#oscar piastri oneshot

[scuderiahoney]

Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

[jamminvroomvroom]

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

-

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

-

oh i’m soft

-

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[lightsoutletsgo]

welcome home — op.81 (18+)

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader (occasional allusions to reader being thick and a little chubby but mostly non-descriptive of body!)

word count: 4.5k

warnings: (hold onto your hats folks, it’s a long list 🧍‍♀️) SMUT!! porn with very little plot, don’t be silly, wrap your willy! creampie, breeding kink, allusions to oscar being bi, use of sex toys, light degrading (slut, whore), a hint of overstimulation, spanking (ass and thighs),  mentions of reader making a HECKIN lot of mess, oscar catches reader and watches her without her knowing!!

hi loves! this is the fic I wrote last night after the tequila hit and when I read it this morning to proof read it I was like 'wtf did I write?' 😭 I was debating if I should add the whole making out with the toy right there situation but my lovely beta reader @softieekayy said it was perfectly ✨spicy✨ so it has stayed in! as always, read at your own risk. please DO NOT read if you are not 18+! happy reading! mimi 🤍

God you hated triple headers. Okay that was an exaggeration, you loved the excitement of watching your boyfriend do his thing from the other side of the world but what you hated was the fact you didn’t get any of his… attention for a couple of weeks.

At first the big orange dildo had been a joke. One of your friends had bought it for you when she learned of your relationship with Oscar, “for those weekends you’re alone.” She had said. You had laughed at the bright papaya colour and brushed the whole thing off, denying you would ever need a use for it. But now as the box it sat in stared up at you from the bottom of your wardrobe, you felt a thrill rush down your spine, pussy clenching involuntarily at the thought of being filled up after so long. You leaned against the wardrobe door, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath before slamming it shut and storming back across the room to the bed, throwing yourself into the plush comforter and pillows to let out a yell. You rolled onto your back and sighed. No. You would just wait for Oscar to come home. You could handle a few more days, right? Closing your eyes, you turned your head into Oscar’s pillow and inhaled deeply, moaning at the way his scent invaded your nostrils. God you needed him. You shook your head to clear the thoughts away and focused on sleeping. The faster you slept the sooner tomorrow would come right? Which meant the sooner Oscar would be home. 

You gasped as you felt fingers digging into your thighs and your eyes flew open to see Oscar between your legs, his eyes staring back at yours, hazy with lust as he sucked and nibbled on your clit before dipping his tongue into your cunt to get a taste of your sweetness. Your hands flew to his hair as your back arched. You had no clue where your clothes had gone but you didn’t care, too caught up in the way Oscar wrapped his lips around your clit and shook his head side to side. A shriek left your mouth and your legs closed quickly before he spanked your inner thighs and pushed them open, “Taste so good angel…” Your head dropped back onto the pillow as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to your release. Bucking your hips up you tugged at Oscar’s hair and he let out a growl into your pussy, the vibrations doing nothing but heighten the sensation building in your lower stomach. “O-Oscar…” He smirked up at you, “Yes angel?” “Gonna cum!” You squeaked out at his unrelenting movements, “Then cum for me angel, make a mess all over my face hmm?”

Your eyes snapped open and you jolted upright. It had been a fucking dream? You groaned and led back down, a hand coming up to feel how warm your face was. But it felt so real? You whimpered and squeezed your legs together, already able to feel how much you’d dripped everywhere and soaked your panties. You bit your lip, sliding a hand down between your breasts and stomach, feeling the way your breath caught in your throat the closer you got to your thighs. Sliding your panties off underneath your - well, Oscar’s shirt - you gasped as you realised just how soaked they were and how much of your slick had coated your inner thighs. Sliding your hand down you moaned as you began to rut your pussy against your hand, already turning feral with need. You let out a loud groan and huffed.

Standing up and walking over the wardrobe before grabbing that darn box. Unpacking the dildo and quickly washing it off under the bathroom sink you slid back into bed, not even bothering to get under the covers. You stared at the toy in your hand for a moment, it was just a little over average size, more girth than length, and you couldn’t help but shiver when you realised it was a similar size and shape to your boyfriend. You noted how it had been moulded with a few veins here and there for texture and your mouth watered at the thought it conjured up, of Oscar's cock on your tongue and the way he would groan when your tongue traced the veins on his length.

Lying back down and pulling Oscar’s t-shirt up to halfway up your tummy, you gently dragged the dildo up your inner thighs, enjoying the way you felt your pussy leak onto the sheets. You decided quickly that you’d had enough of teasing yourself and so you moved the toy up to your burning core. 

The toy was cold as it rubbed up and down your lips and you bit your lip, relishing in the tingling sensation everytime it caught your clit. You briefly wondered if you needed lube, but with how much you were dripping you figured you could get some later if you needed it. You dipped the tip of the toy into your entrance and your breath shuddered, “Fuck…” A moan came out involuntarily as you sank the toy into your waiting pussy a little further, relishing in the way it stretched you out so deliciously. “Mmm… Oscar…” You couldn’t help the way your boyfriend’s name slipped from your lips as the toy slid into you more, the textured veins on the toy exciting all those spots inside of you. You let out a satisfied sigh when the toy was pushed into you to the hilt and you gave yourself a moment to enjoy the full feeling it offered, before you were pulling it back out to the tip, mouth dropping open as it dragged against your walls, the silicone quickly warming up to your body temperature. 

You started off slow and gentle, shallow little thrusts that had you whimpering and whining as you fucked yourself the way you knew Oscar would. The hand not using the toy flew up to pull your t-shirt up even more to expose your tits and pinch your nipple. You hummed happily, enjoying the feeling but it was quickly proving to not be enough. You spread your legs wider and began to move the toy with a little more force at a faster speed. Your moans grew a little louder, mixing with the slick wet sounds coming from your pussy. Your hand slid down from where it pinched and pulled your nipples to gently rub your clit. You felt the way you clamped down around the toy and how it made it a little harder to thrust and you smiled, knowing that feeling was something that drove Oscar wild.

At the thought of your boyfriend you let out a rather lewd sound, moving your hips up to meet your hand as you started pounding your cunt with the toy. You were drunk on the feeling, moaning like a pornstar, rubbing your clit faster. You could feel your juices all over your hand and you could hear the way you were creaming all over the toy. 

But what pushed you over the edge was turning your head into Oscar’s pillow once more, inhaling and drowning in him as you came. Clenching down tightly onto the toy as your back arched and your legs shook. Practically crying out Oscar’s name, you almost growled with frustration as your hand didn’t stop, despite how tired you were, still needing more. 

You let out a whimper as your hand cramped and you knew you needed to change positions. Slipping the toy out your eyes widened as you saw exactly how much of a mess you had made all over it. You pushed yourself over onto all fours and buried your face into Oscar’s pillow, moving your hand underneath your stomach and pushing the toy back into you as you fucked yourself face down ass up.

The toy easily slid back into your eager hole and you moaned at the feeling. You didn’t hesitate with teasing yourself this time, instead fucking yourself hard straightaway, a deep moan leaving your mouth as your eyes rolled back. From this new angle, the toy reached even deeper and you needed more of it. You continued railing yourself, moaning and whining Oscar’s name with everything you had in you. 

Oscar sighed with relief, feeling all the tension and stress leave his body as the taxi pulled up in front of the apartment complex. Climbing out with his bags, he thanked the driver and headed up to your shared apartment. He knew it was the early hours of the morning and you would still be asleep but if he could be quiet enough then maybe he could surprise you in the morning with his arms wrapped around you. God he’d missed you. As he reached the doorway of your apartment his stomach flipped with excitement and he didn’t think he’d ever unlocked the door or put his bags down so quickly, desperate to have you in his arms again. But when he got to your bedroom door he stopped. Oscar’s hand hovered over the bedroom door handle as he listened to the noises drifting through from the other side. Were you moaning? He heard the noise again and he didn’t have to strain his ears to pick up the slick wet sounds of you playing with your pussy. He gulped, unsure of what to do. Did he go in and risk you feeling upset and cornered? Or did he deprive you of what you so clearly wanted? Oscar’s head tipped back in a silent groan as another whimpery moan slipped through the door. He opened the door and hsi mouth dropped open at the sight. He’d expected to maybe see you on your back with a hand down your panties but what was in front of him was much more lewd than that. There you were, your ass up in the air jiggling deliciously as you pounded a toy in and out of you, a toy that was the same colour as his car? Oscar growled low in his throat and started to take a step towards you but what stopped him in his tracks was the sight he saw when he got closer to you, noticing how you actually had his t-shirt in your other hand and you had it held up to your face as your eyes rolled back and you drooled everywhere. A louder groan tore from his throat and you shrieked at the intrusion, toy dropping out of your pussy, allowing him to see your pretty hole fluttering and clenching for a moment before you were sat on the bed and staring at him with wide eyes, his t-shirt held up over your body in an attempt to cover yourself. “Oscar!” “Hi angel…” Everything was still and silent before he was on you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him as he kissed you. You moaned into his mouth, dropping his t-shirt to instead grab at his hair. Oscar growled before he pulled away from you, 

“Put that toy back inside you, right fucking now.” “What?-” “You heard me angel and I’m not in the mood to play games right now…” Oscar’s eyes were dark and you felt your thighs squeeze together as your hand searched the bed for where you’d thrown the toy in your surprise. You found it and led back on the bed, slowly spreading your legs to let him see your pussy lips and inner thighs glistening with your juices. He hissed and licked his lips at the sight of the creamy mess that had gathered at your entrance. “Go on then… put it back in angel.” Your eyes shot up to look at his, “A-are you sure?” He spanked your inner thigh sharply, “Did I stutter?” You shook your head and slid the toy back inside you, gasping. Oscar sucked in a breath through his teeth and slid his hands up and down your thighs, teasing you. You whined and bucked your hips up. He laughed and repeated the motion, enjoying the way you were already gasping underneath him. “Feel good baby?” You nodded and gasped as he led down on his stomach so his face was level with your cunt. You did you best to close your thighs but a sharp look from him had you opening them up once again. Oscar licked his lips and you felt his hand cover yours at the base of the toy. You removed your hand and whimpered as he started fucking you himself. God this was so hot. You didn’t think it could get any better and then you felt his tongue on your clit. 

Just like in your dream your hands flew to his hair as you were catapulted straight into the buildup for another orgasm. Oscar let out an appreciative moan as he tasted you for the first time. If he was phased by the fact he was effectively licking a fake cock at the same time he was licking your pussy, he didn’t show it, if anything it seemed to make him more enthusiastic, occasionally pulling the toy out completely to lick up the mess at your entrance and then licking and sucking the tip of the toy to taste your sweet arousal from the deepest parts of your pussy. The sight had you moaning and squirming and he fucking noticed… Perhaps the two of you needed to have a conversation at some point…

You were pulled from your thoughts by Oscar taking your clit between his lips and flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive button. Your hips rocked back and forth against the toy as you rode his face, “Mmph, fuck yes angel,” Oscar murmured against your clit, feeling how your pussy had tightened around the toy as he struggled to pull it out,. His tongue swirled around your clit, his drool spilling down your pussy and onto the toy making it even more slippery as he thrust it in and out of you. Your hands tangled in his hair as you felt yourself get close, “Baby!” You warned him, Oscar just hummed, your clit still in his mouth and you grabbed at his hair and his shoulders, his hands, anything you could as you tumbled over the edge, back arching and toes curling. You moaned and whimpered as you came, Oscar pressing soft kisses to your clit to draw out your orgasm even longer. You let out an even louder whimper when he pulled the toy out, hating how empty your pussy felt as you squeezed and throbbed around nothing. You stared at the toy in Oscar’s hand and then back up at his face, leaning forward you kissed it softly before licking the tip, taking it into your mouth and gently sucking on it. Oscar groaned at the sight and grabbed your waist with his free hand, pulling you up to his eye level. You giggled as a plan formed in your mind and you gently pushed his hand towards his lips instead, he seemed to understand as he licked your arousal off the toy himself, eyes fluttering shut as he tasted you. “C’mere,” you whispered to him quietly, gently holding his face with one hand as your other hand moved down to squeeze and stroke him through his sweatpants. Your lips also wrapped around the toy and you licked into Oscar’s mouth, making out with him with the dildo between you.

You giggled as you felt him throb through his clothes, clearly enjoying this new experience. You moaned as Oscar broke away from you to duck his head into your neck and leave some sloppy kisses there. You continued to suck the toy off, closing your eyes and putting on a show you knew was getting harder to ignore. Oscar looked back up at you and his mouth gaped a little at how hot you looked. Grasping the toy in his own hand once more he gently pushed the toy down your throat and hissed as you stared up at him, big doe eyes looking at him so sweetly, 

“Back on your hands and knees baby.” His voice was low and though you’d been fucking yourself for a while, you still felt another wave of arousal course through you. 

Turning round you yelped as you felt his hand strike your ass, “Such a fucking slut baby… is this what you do when I’m away hmm?” He leaned over you to bite your earlobe and kiss your neck as he pulled his sweats down. He was ridiculously hard, pre-cum already dripping from the tip of his cock and he smeared it across your pussy lips, sticky and messy. You moaned and tried pushing yourself back onto him but he simply tutted and held your plush hips in place with one arm while he other hand spanked you again, relishing in the way your flesh rippled from his hand, “You just couldn’t wait hmm?” You mewled and shook your head, “M sorry Oscar just missed you too mu- Oh!” You stopped mid-sentence as he thrust into you at once, moaning as his head dropped to the middle of your back. Pressing gentle kisses down as he straightened up, slowly pulling out in a way that had your arms collapsing and your head falling into the pillow. 

“You okay angel?” He breathed, leaning over you again to check in and you nodded, “M okay Osc, promise. Just need you to move, please!” He nodded and pulled out slowly, smirking at the way your body shuddered and shook under him, before he started a relentless pace. His hips slapped into your ass and you fucking giggled as he fucked you. Something about that made Oscar throb. Your pussy convulsed around him as you mindlessly babbled at him, too fucked out to make sense anymore, “Yes fuck Oscar, baby it’s so good, so big, so big fuck,” You gasped, “missed your cock so much baby, missed worshipping it, fuckkkk want it in my mouth, gimme your fingers please?” Oscar obliged and the hand not guiding your hips pushed two fingers into your mouth. Oscar’s own eyes rolled back as he felt you drooling and sucking. “Not enough Osc, need more!” You cried out and his eyes caught sight of the orange toy that now lay discarded next to you, still covered in your arousal. Oscar smirked to himself once more, removing his fingers from your mouth and picking the toy up. He moved close to your ear, wanting to see this up close as he whispered, “You need more angel? Then here you go.” he tapped the dildo against your lips and you hummed happily, greedily opening your mouth to stuff it full of the silicone toy. “How is it angel hmm? Tasting yourself on that toy?” You gave an enthusiastic moan, smiling even with your mouth full and Oscar found himself staring at you adoringly, never wavering in how his hips pistoned in and out of you. 

He straightened up, allowing you to fuck your own throat with the toy, focusing on gripping your fleshy hips and tummy and fucking into you. He could feel himself sweating and his hair was in his eyes but still he would not stop. He let out a guttaral groan when he realised that you were now bouncing back to meet his thrusts, fucking yourself and humping his cock. His hips stilled for a moment as he let you grind, working for what you were so desperate to have, “There you go… mhmm good fuckin girl that’s it… atta girl.” He praised you as you grew even needier, throwing yourself back with more and more enthusiasm each time. 

“Oscar!” You squealed as a hand snuck down to softly slide over your clit and you froze, thighs shaking from the stimulation, “Easy, angel, I got you…” You stuffed your mouth full of the toy once more and led there, happy to be on the receiving end of his attention and affections. Oscar continued to rub your clit and he smoothly rolled his hips into yours, loving every squeak and whimper and moan and mewl he elicited from you. 

You fought to keep your eyes open as you felt that pressure building and building between your legs. “Oscar…” You pulled off of the toy to warn him you were close, Oscar’s response was to simply lean down over you, practically mounting you as his hips refused to stop, now pounding into you.He grabbed the toy and threw it to one side, smashing his lips to yours in a messy exchange of spit and breath and moans. You whimpered, the slight change in his position causing him to rub against your g-spot with every push and pull thrust. You could feel your body climbing higher and you scrabbled to grab the hand near your head and link his fingers with yours, “Fuck baby!” You cried and Oscar knew the sound immediately, “Cum for me angel, there you go, atta girl…”

He cooed at you as you came hard. Moaning into his mouth and squeezing his hands as your pussy convulsed and fluttered around his cock. Oscar’s head dropped to the pillow next to you as he did his best to hold it together, wanting to fuck you through your orgasm. You giggled as you came down from your high, gasping when his hips circled, keeping his cock deep inside you as he did. You legs gave out and you slid to lay down, Oscar following you down gently as he started to softly rut into you, grinding and circling his hips this time rather than thrusting, he kissed your neck softly before biting lightly, not enough to mark but just enough to feel it there, “Missed you so so much angel,” You gasped, “Yeah?” “Mmm…” He moaned, “Been fuckin torture being away from you…”

You tipped your head to the side to allow him to leave more kisses between words, “Missed your pretty eyes, your soft lips, these gorgeous thighs, your perfect hips, your sweet cunt.” He emphasised the last word with a soft thrust and you smiled, loving how he took care of you but now it was his turn, “Missed you too baby…” Oscar laughed and kissed your cheek, “you did hmm?” “Yeah… missed your freckles and your arms holdin’ me, missed your pretty hands, your head in my lap, missed your hips and missed… oh…” a soft moan cut you off, “Missed what angel?” Oscar rolled his hips particularly deep and you inhaled sharply, “Missed your cock!” 

Oscar tutted at this, “Sure didn’t seem like it baby… you had that toy stuffed in your sweet hole pretty good when I got home…” You whined, “Didn’t feel the same, didn’t feel as good!” You reasoned, Oscar’s hips began to move a little more, beginning that familiar motion of sliding in and out of you. He could feel how you’d not only made a mess on your own thighs but his thighs too, and his hips. “Didn’t feel as good hmm? You certainly seemed to be enjoying it?” “Just missed you too much!” A hand snaked up to gently take hold of your throat, not to choke you but enough to remind you of who was in charge. You panted as his thrusts increased again, “Please Oscar, wanna feel you full me up!”

His eyes closed and his head rested against your shoulder as he heard you begging for his cum, “Need to feel you fill me up, please? Be so fuckin good for you Osc, I promise!” You heard him growl next to your ear, a low sound that had you determined to make this man lose his damn mind. “Yes, just like that baby, please don’t stop please please please!” You kept begging him over and over, knowing you wouldn’t be satisfied until he was spilling out of you, “Please baby, show me just how much you missed me, yes yes yes! Fuck. Make me fuckin take it come on baby… ‘S so fucking good Oscar… only one that can make me feel this good. Mmm fucking love your cock oh my GOD!-” Oscar’s hand tightened round your throat a little as his hips slapped into yours with more need once again, too turned on by your begging to do anything else, “Gonna fill you up angel, “Yes!” You cried out, Oscar felt his balls tighten and his cock throb, “Gonna breed my pretty girl, cum nice and deep inside you hmm? Mark you from the inside shit, FUCK! I love you!” With a loud growl, Oscar’s cock throbbed as he shot ropes of his thick hot cum deep inside you, just rocking back and forth as he made sure to spill every last drop into your greedy cunt. 

He pressed a long kiss to your neck, then your cheek and then the side of your head. 

With Oscar on top of you and having already cum multiple times, you felt all warm and cosy and you couldn’t help the way you immediately felt sleepy, “Welcome home baby…” Oscar chuckled and rolled off of you, pulling you with him to cuddle into his side, “Angel, have you even slept yet?” You yawned as you nodded, “For a couple of hours at least…” You trailed off feeling the exhaustion hit you all at once, “Oh no no no angel, bathroom first, then water, then sleep!” You groaned but Oscar was firm and you knew he was right. He helped you to the bathroom and then went to grab water while you finished up. After falling into bed together you immediately cuddled up to him, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you threw you leg over his waist, his hand automatically rubbing your thigh. Things with Oscar always felt so right, so natural, so normal. You gave a contented sigh and Oscar snorted as he spotted the bright orange toy in the corner of the room from where it had gracefully landed after being flung off the bed earlier. You followed his gaze and giggled as he broke into full laughter, “Papaya Y/N? I mean, really?” You shook your head, “It wasn’t me! One of my friends bought it as a joke gift and today was the fist time I…” You trailed off and he squeezed you tightly, understanding what you meant, “We should definitely talk about what was going on between you  and that toy though…” Oscar blushed and you kissed his cheek, “Don’t worry baby, it was hot!” Oscar smiled at you, settling down to fall asleep with you in his arms, “What a welcome home ey?” 

࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃

[pablitosgf]

shocker ! — op81

pairings ! — oscar piastri x fem!reader

warnings ! — cursing and thats it

info ! — in which oscar shocks the internet yet again...

authors note ! — im on a grind like wtf is happening rn?? anyways, go make some requests bc im bored asf and make sure to check out my request rules in my guidelines which you can check on my navigations post. (pinned post when you click on my profile <3)

format ! — smau

pt 1 pt 3

oscarpiastri

likes by yourusername, mclaren, and 654,629 others

oscarpiastri yes, everyone y/n is my wife, woohoo!!! yourusername i love u so much

view all 832 comments

yourusername yes, everyone oscar is my husband 🥰 an amazing husband too! (he leaves the toilet seat up)

↳ you're such an amazing wife! (you always make me do the dishes 🖕🏻)

yourusername shut ur trap

mclaren y/n>>>oscar

yourusername i love you 🩷🧎🏻‍♀️

↳ EXCUSE ME???

landonorris this is so disgusting

yourusername ur weird for hating

landonorris yourusername ur weird for marrying this man

[norrisleclercf1]

would you possible write some oscar fluff? like the reader is a pre-med student going to a really good uni but she's under a lot of pressure and oscar is there to calm her down like she feels overwhelmed and does a lot of all-nighters and he gets worried? is that okay?

A/N: Ughhhh this hit home so much

The amount of times Oscar has come home from a race and found you in a circle filled with pages and books would be more times than he'd like. Most of the time Oscar would make sure his mother or sisters would check up on you when they could. If you stayed in Woking he'd ask Lily a good friend of yours to check up on you.

Everyone knew that being pre-med was hard, and Oscar couldn't be prouder of you and even fans who knew about your strive for a degree would send you messages cheering you on. Oscar was home in England for the month and since moving here with him, and going to University Oscar was able to keep you calm and be there when you needed a break.

He was out for the day, in Woking for meetings and he'd be home soon. Looking at the time you curse seeing 8 hours went by without you moving, eating, or getting anything to drink. Sighing you feel the nerves creep up. You didn't have anything to be nervous about. Your next exam was a month out, and you were acing it.

But that didn't mean you didn't feel the pressure to do well on this exam. You close your eyes and sit up straight, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. It doesn't work. If anything you feel the anxiety bubble up even more, shaking your hands you can feel the burn in your eyes and open them, everything blurry from the tears.

"Y/n! I'm home and I've got your-" Oscar stops when he sees you look up, face blotchy, eyes red and covered in tears, and breathing hard. "I don't know," You whisper, Oscar sighs and places down your favorite takeout food and slides off his backpack. You couldn't even admire his Mclaren letterman jacket with white shirt.

Sitting down careful, not bending any books or tearing any papers. Pulling you into his lap you bury your face into the cold leather, it shocking you out of your mind. "You can cry baby, I'm here." Oscar never made you feel bad for feeling this way, instead he let you work through your emotions and then talk about them.

Oscar traces patterns on your back and just rocks back and forth slowly as you let your mind fall back into place not letting it be so scattered. When he notices you've calmed down enough, he takes deep breaths, which you start to do and sigh and hug him tighter.

"I'm okay, just....got stuck in my head." Oscar hums and stands awkwardly, as he moves you to the couch. "We need to eat," He whispers after a while and wipes your face, not even caring for the snot. "I'm not hungry," Your stomach rolls and you two share a look making you two giggle as Oscar tosses you and you squeal, feeling better as he grabs the bag and you notice what it is.

"Should someone like you being eating this?" Oscar tuns and glares slightly. "Don't rat me out," You giggle and move closer kissing him and rubbing his cheek. "Thank you," Oscar smiles and kisses you again. "Now, let's stuff our faces and watch trashy TV." "Deal," You knew you'd be okay, especially with Oscar by your side.

[loveluvrs]

third time's the charm l oscar piastri x reader

request/summary – Hellooo!! Would you be able to write an oscar piastri blurb with little examples of the reader showing him off and him getting all flustered? For example, drunk in a club with her friends / to make him feel more confident / ect..? 🫶

author's notes – idk if this was what anon was thinking of but this is what i imagined 😭

I walked into the paddock, hand in hand with Oscar. I was talking about the newest episode of the series I had been binge watching. Oscar, as usual, had settled into listening to me attentively, as I yapped on relentlessly without an end in sight. 

I stopped when I bump into Max’s mum and sister. His family was like a second family to me, and I hadn’t gotten a chance to see them yet since Oscar and I started dating. 

“Oh, hi! I’ve missed you guys so much. This is Oscar, you guys already know he’s my boyfriend,” I say excitedly as he reaches his hand out to greet them. “He loves the curry I make just like you guys do. Sometimes I think he may like it even more. I mean, he always begs me to make it whenever he’s visiting home,” I ramble on excitedly. 

“Ooookay, we should get going now. Nice to meet you,” Oscar says before dragging me along with him to Mclaren garage. “What happened? I was talking,” I ask with a pout. 

He laughs as he rolls his eyes playfully. “Yeah, I know, babe. You never stop talking, do you?” he says playfully, “you should remember to breathe every once in a while.”

“Ha ha. Very funny. I wasn’t even talking that much! I was just introducing them to you and telling them how much I love you!” I say defensively with a confused look in my eyes. 

“Love, you were telling them I beg for your cooking, that’s embarrassing!” Oscar says with a slight laugh. It’s only now I stop and notice that he’s turned slightly red, making me giggle. Oscar gives me an unamused look before saying, “don’t laugh at me like that, you do this every time!” 

“I’m sorry,” I say with a giggle, “you know I only do it because I love you. I just want people to know how great you are, promise!” Oscar opens his mouth to speak but is interrupted when some of his team members approach him to talk to him about the upcoming race weekend. “We’re going to talk about this later,” Oscar says softly as he points a finger at me playfully. 

——

I screamed as Oscar won the sprint race in Qatar, and I immediately rushed over to him after the race, peppering him with kisses all over his face. “I’m so so proud of you, oh my god!” I say excitedly. Oscar’s face was already red from the heat, and it somehow turned even redder when he saw the cameras approach us. He whined slightly as he burrowed his face into my neck. “Baby, don’t embarrass me,” he mumbles quietly in a shy voice. 

“My boyfriend just won a sprint race in his rookie season in F1, of course I’m gonna show you off and embarrass you. Don’t expect anything less from me,” I tease as I give him one last kiss before sending him off. 

When Oscar returns to our hotel room that night, I’m already half asleep. He spends a bit of time on his phone while in my arms, trying to keep up with everyone’s messages. He stops when he sees an Instagram post from me, his embarrassed and red face that was caught on the cameras now plastered all over this post. “Did you really have to post that?” He asks me playfully.

“I absolutely did. You’re amazing, and you’re mine. Two things every person should know,” I say playfully, earning a playful eye roll from him. “But I look awful, babe!” He protests, zooming in on himself in the photo. I stifle a laugh. “Thousands of people would disagree, actually. Plus, you don’t look awful, you look happy!” I say softly. 

He gives me an unamused look. “What if I don’t want to look happy?”

I giggle. “Then you are one sick weirdo, Oscar Piastri,” I tease with a soft kiss to his lips. 

——

It’s Oscar’s birthday today, and I have been meticulously planning out every single detail for the past few weeks, including a party with some of his closest friends after qualifying session that day. Despite my protests, Zak also insisted inviting some sponsors to the event and key investors of Mclaren, to act as an opportunity for networking. I reluctantly agreed, although I knew Oscar wouldn’t like it. 

As I thought, Oscar seemed a bit overwhelmed by the amount of people there. He was whisked away to a new person every two minutes, and it was all too much for him to handle. He eventually sat down next to me outside with a loud sigh, leaning his head on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to invite this many people, but Zak said this and that. And you know how he is, he wouldn’t have stopped until I said yes,” I say with a frown as I clearly notice how he isn’t having the best of times at this party. Instead, he just smiles, leaning in to give me a soft kiss. He stands up again, holding his hand out towards me. “I don’t care. Just be by my side while I’m being interrogated?” He asks playfully. I giggle, and with a nod I take his hand, our fingers intertwining. 

We soon see one of my old friends that I knew from RedBull, and I introduce Oscar formally to her. As always, I begin to praise Oscar as a driver and as a person. And as always, he gets incredibly red. This time, however, I catch myself before it gets too bad, cutting myself off. When my friend walks away, Oscar has a frown on his face. 

“Why’d you stop? You usually go on for longer,” he asks softly. I shrug. “You always get embarrassed by it, so I just realized and quit while I was ahead,” I say quietly in a kind of embarrassed tone that he even noticed I cut myself off. 

Oscar shakes his head. “Oh come on, babe. Yes, I do get extremely embarrassed by it. But rambling on about me is so you, and I never want you to stop, you hear me? If I can’t praise myself then I need someone who will,” he says with a playful smile. 

“Promise? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything,” I say softly.

“No no no, absolutely not. You could never make me uncomfortable, ever. And you rambling on and showing me off is embarrassing, yes, but I love you for it. I promise,” he says softly. 

“Well, if you insist… then I guess I could squeeze in a few rambles here and there..” I say playfully with a giggle. 

[f1daydreamers]

𝐌𝐲 𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐞 [𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏]

gif credits: @u-u-piastri81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

Summary: Oscar is a visitor at your first art exhibition – not exactly his scene – but it's one that he contributed to financially to help you out, an upcoming artist he's taken a bit of a liking to.

Warnings: criticism but not always constructive, fluff, Reader and Oscar being cute, this man in a suit (audience may faint from the gifs), angst, maybe Oscar is a little out of character but I just upped his rizz by a solid 20% because I love him but he's way too shy to do any of this methinks :)

A/N: I know nothing about this profession icl but I got major black tie and exclusive event vibes from the gifs so this is what came out of it. I did a ton of research to make sure it wasn't too unrealistic but experience beats knowledge so if you guys read any things that need some correction, lmk!

Yeah, I never expected this to be so long but once I got to writing, I couldn't stop so hey, enjoy!

Word Count: 4.6k words (17 mins reading time avg)

…

Safe to say, this wasn’t Oscar’s scene.

Standing among collectors, art enthusiasts, curators, and industry professionals meant feeling a little out of place was a tad understated.

But he wanted to be here tonight. Of course, being invited is one thing but accepting the invitation comes with a whole new world of formalities he hadn’t prepared for.

You hadn’t noticed him yet, busy greeting and socialising with what looked like a few critics and journalists.

The notebooks in their hands were a dead giveaway but your hand drumming on your leg was another. You were anxious.

Oscar took a sip of his drink, the one he was offered when he received an entry pass coming through the venues' doors. He knew how much this evening meant to you, both in the months of planning and the dreams that preceded it.

Initially, the idea seemed farfetched, but as you dove straight into creating the collection, photographing it, staying up late to create statements that wholly captured the essence of your creative process, the once exciting prospect of submitting it to a gallery felt somewhat dissatisfying.

In a few conversations with Oscar, you’d shared your aspirations of seeing your portfolio bask in the limelight. However, the reality of organising a self-funded exhibition in a rented space would blow your budget out of the water.

You don’t know at what point but he’d made the decision to donate a significant sum of money to your artist fund, covering a major portion of the exhibition's expenses.

It helped you realise all those curious questions about possible venues, dates, and basic costs weren’t just to fuel his enthusiasm, but to sincerely offer his support.

You were grateful beyond what words could describe, and the least you could do was ask him to be here today.

You were nervous partially because you had critics and community leaders alike wandering around the space, conversing about your work you’d spent years dedicating blood, sweat and tears to.

But you were also nervous because he was here tonight.

Even if you’d drawn a squiggly line on a blank canvas, Oscar would marvel at it like it was the most beautiful thing on this planet, but tonight was when he was finally seeing your work in all its completion.

He brought your vision to life and the last thing you wanted to do was make him think his investment was a waste.

Last you’d checked, you hadn’t seen his brown wavy hair anywhere around the venue, his innocent smile playing on your mind even when you were entranced in conversation with fellow artists.

You stepped in front of a painting no one else currently seemed to be trained on, focusing on inhaling and exhaling your breaths, fidgeting with your fingers by your sides.

Tonight, was the most important day of your career by a mile.

“Excuse me.” Someone spoke up behind you and you inhaled a deep breath before whisking around to greet them. But your eyes grew soft, and your smile grew amicably at the man glancing downwards back at you.

“Do you know where I could find the host of the evening?” He asked, his smile mirroring yours, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass.

"Oscar," you breathed out, and the F1 driver had to force himself to disregard the palpable sense of relief that accompanied the utterance of his name.

The way it effortlessly rolled off your tongue, it left him wanting to hear you say it repeatedly.

“You made it.” He nodded his head, “I did.” Initially, he had doubts about attending, but considering the venue was conveniently located close to his hotel near Silverstone and his flight to Budapest wasn't until Monday evening, he managed to find the time to come.

You drew in a breath, "you look good." Your compliment was genuine, whenever you'd met up with Oscar or came across photos on Instagram, he was either in racing gear or in casual outfits. To see him in a suit was different. A good different.

"Thanks. Pretty sure I should be counting my breaths though." You chuckle as he looks down at himself, the shirt was a little smaller than he would've liked.

A testament to how life in Formula 1 was like and that his neck size had grown exponentially.

"Each one could be your last," you joked, adding on and he nodded.

"Exactly." His laugh culminated into a final chuckle, melting into a warm smile.

When you looked away, seeing the waiters you'd hired tonight refilling cups as people wandered around, Oscar took the opportunity to let his eyes drag over your figure.

"You look beautiful," his compliment drew a smile from you.

You briefly cast your gaze downward before lifting it to his chest then finally up to his eyes. "Thank you, Oscar."

He responded only with a curt nod; his eyes trained on your face before he tore them away to have a look around him.

"How's it going?"

You hummed, thinking about your answer. "It's okay. There's a few paintings that are getting lots of attention, others a little less."

"Did you expect that?" He asked and you reasoned, you knew when you began this collection that people would naturally gravitate more towards some pieces anyway, that's the advice you were given everywhere you went.

"Yeah, I'd be lying if I said I didn't." Oscar took a sip of some liquid courage before pointing at the painting you'd just been standing in front of with the rim of his glass.

"I like this one." You turned as he took steps towards it, his shoulder grazing yours. "This is the last one." You mentioned as he skimmed over the statements planted on the wall next to the artwork.

"I think it's an elderly couple, and the mirrors all around them are portals into a specific memory of their relationship." He said undisputedly. You look up at him, your mouth parting slightly in surprise.

"Yeah, how did you figure that out so quickly?"

"It's almost like you were brainstorming ideas to me on call a few months ago." You scoff, rolling your eyes but ultimately impressed by his memory.

He hadn't spoken much during that phone call, so you'd assumed he wasn't paying much attention to your endless rambles.

"I never realised you were actually listening." You softly said and Oscar turned his head to look at you.

"Every word." He reassured, and a warm feeling encompassed your chest at his affirmation.

His gaze traced over the painting once more. While he had never hesitated to express his belief in your talent, seeing your artwork displayed in such a way stirred a whirlwind of emotions inside of him.

He was proud of you and excited for you, knowing that you had undertaken this journey for your own sake, garnering an array of artistic admirers. It's no mean feat to organise an event like this, take a risk so early on in your career.

"I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you." You snap him out of his thoughts, turning your body towards him, standing a few feet away.

Oscar mimicked your movements, turning so he was facing you, and placed his now empty glass on a bar tray that a waiter had extended to him, refusing a refill.

"Why do you think you need to repay me? Remember, it was a donation." He said matter-of-factly. You let out a sigh.

Despite his repeated assurances that he expected nothing in return, you couldn't shake off the feeling of indebtedness that lingered in your thoughts.

You found yourself dwelling on the late-night conversations, wondering if your eagerness to discuss your plans had inadvertently conveyed desperation.

Your gaze drops and without hesitation, he reaches his hand out and gently slots it into yours, his thumb caressing over your skin in a soothing gesture. Your heart skips a beat or two, the warmth of his hand was relieving.

"This is the best way you can repay me. Living the dream." He smiles and you nod, finally lifting your eyes to meet his. His voice was a calming anchor amid your thoughts.

"I'll never forget how you made it possible though," a small smile graced your lips, and he let out a chuckle.

"Yeah, you never miss a chance to mention it," he quipped, his eyes dancing with amusement. You playfully rolled your eyes, a good-natured sigh escaping you as you did.

Oscar's hand retreated to his side, and a subtle longing for his touch flickered within you. Nevertheless, you mask it with a smile that grew as you exchanged a couple more jokes.

...

He courteously held the door ajar, giving a nod to a man entering the bathroom who appeared to appreciate the gesture. Letting the door close behind him, Oscar took out his phone to check the time.

Absentmindedly, he began scrolling through his notifications: a mix of sports updates, a message from his mum, one from Mark. Yet, none seemed particularly urgent.

Just as he was about to tap on one of the notifications, his attention was drawn upward to the sound of your voice.

You were engaged in conversation with a man, his journal held in his hands, and sunglasses perched atop his head. Oscar's gaze briefly went back to his phone screen; he made no overt effort to eavesdrop.

Despite this, fragments of your conversation found their way to his ears anyway.

"I must say, your work is quite disappointing. The lack of technical skill is evident in every piece." Oscar's eyebrows furrow as he observes openly, a marked departure from his earlier disinterested demeanour.

You clear your throat as you try to collect yourself, bringing your fingers up to your mouth to hide your quivering lip.

You had previously cautioned yourself that not everyone will like your work, but experiencing such candid criticism directly was far more destructive than you could have expected.

"Um, okay. What sort of things did you not like about it?" You asked, trying to find some sort of valuable insight from such a respected critic in your community.

"The colours are garish and clash horribly. It's clear that you have no understanding of colour theory or composition." You nod, gathering some form of strength to just take his words on the chin but you were failing rather miserably. Your stomach was sinking, and your eyes were watering slowly.

"It's a shame that your efforts have resulted in such subpar creations." Your jaw tightens and as you scramble for the right words to respond with in your mind, a hand presses into your lower back from behind.

"Excuse me. I want to purchase a piece, but I can't seem to find your sales assistant." The accent is unmistakable, and you muster a smile as you turn to face him.

"I'll help you." Your voice is unsteady, your emotions deflated.

"Thank you," Oscar responds, though his gaze carries a hint of concern. He moves to follow you but before he can do so, the critic extends his hand to grasp his arm, waiting until he's certain you're out of earshot.

"Coming from a collector, don't bother." He smirks, his conviction clear. Yet, the F1 driver's face remains impassive.

"Sorry, I don't remember asking you. Now, if you don't mind." He looks down at the grip on his arm, his fist clenching by his side. The critic seems taken aback at the blank expression looking back at him, devoid of any gratefulness.

He swallows before loosening his grip.

Oscar rounds the pillar just as you press down on the handle to the fire door exit at the distant end.

He contemplates whether he should grant you some space, but he wonders if doing so will only make matters worse.

Pausing briefly, he contemplates his choices before deciding to make his way toward the fire exit anyway. His hand firmly grasps the handle, and he proceeds to push open the door.

With your back turned towards him, you're unaware of his presence. Your palms are pressed against your face as a means of stifling your sniffles hence the closing of the door registers faintly, the sound hardly penetrating your thoughts.

It's only when the crunching of gravel beneath someone's shoes reaches your ears that you realise you're no longer alone. But oddly, you know there's only one person who it could be.

The combination of embarrassment, distress, and sheer exhaustion was what left you feeling so overwhelmingly emotional.

Aware that you don't want Oscar to witness you in this state, you quickly swipe at your cheeks, hastily erasing any traces of tears from your face.

You whisk around, smiling up at him and nodding your head. "I'm good Os. It's not always going to be a perfect score, right?" His heart swells at the nickname you called him, very few people did so, but hearing it from you felt special in a way.

"He's a dick," the F1 driver bluntly responds, his tone carrying a hint of anger.

You chuckle softly, but the sigh that follows is slightly shaky. A wave of heaviness crashes over you again as the critic's hurtful words echo in your mind, your stomach sinking in response.

Oscar picks up on the shift of emotion and his eyes soften at your teary and lowering expression.

Without a word, he opens his arms and pulls you into an embrace. You don't resist; instead, you bury your face in his shoulder, your shoulders trembling as silent tears escape your eyes.

His arms encircle you tightly, offering a comforting refuge as your emotions spill over again.

His chest rises and falls with each steady breath, the rhythm providing you with some comfort despite how irritated you're getting at yourself for letting one conversation bother you this much.

As he holds you, his chest aches both for your vulnerability and the anger he feels towards the critic who provoked it. You reluctantly pull away after a minute or so, a mixture of gratitude and sadness in your eyes.

But in the moment, you can't help but feel that the money he donated for the exhibition might have gone to waste, that your efforts fell short.

Disappointing your clients is business but disappointing him felt personal, he was the reason you even had a chance to do this, and it'd turned out horribly.

"I let you down," you say quietly, and Oscar's eyebrows knit together as he studies your expression.

"How? Every piece I love, Y/N." He responds, placing his hand on your forearm, his touch warm. It sends a flurry of goosebumps over your skin which you're sure he would've picked up on considering his attention to detail.

He positions his index finger under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes which you do. Your legs suddenly feel like they're incapable of keeping you upright, your face warming under his gaze.

"You didn't let me down." He whispers.

Oscar's concern remains palpable as his hand doesn't fall back to his side. His eyes hold a depth of emotion, the colours in his eyes becoming more distinct.

The connection that you can sense increases, and it's as if the unspoken understanding between you becomes more profound in that moment.

His cologne surrounds you but it's his gaze that flickers to your lips, a fleeting but unmistakable gesture. You realise that he's leaning in closer and there's a fraction of a second when it feels like the world around you fades.

The possibility of his lips meeting yours feels tantalisingly close.

But just as the moment deepens, you're both interrupted by one of the assistants, their voice breaking through the charged atmosphere.

"Sorry," the assistant interjects, sounding somewhat hurried. "There're a few clients waiting to speak with you Y/N."

Oscar slowly pulls back; he tucks in his bottom lip between his teeth and his expression shifts from one of intimacy to one of polite neutrality.

He offers you a subtle smile, the connection lingering between you even as the assistant's words redirect your attention.

"Of course," you reply, your voice steady despite quite the hurricane of emotions storming inside of you. You look to the assistant, ready to face the responsibilities of the exhibition once again. As you move away, you steal a glance at him, his gaze locked onto you for a moment longer before he nods.

That damned connection between you and Oscar remains, but now only punctuated by unspoken possibilities.

...

"Thank you, ma'am." you say with a warm smile as the elderly woman clasps your hand, offering kind words about your artwork while draping her shawl over her shoulders.

Once she'd left, you looked around to see if there was anyone else remaining in the space. Oscar had left a while ago considering he was on a flight tomorrow to Budapest.

Though a tinge of disappointment lingered within you, you understood and bid him goodnight.

You wrapped up a little later than you would've liked, a couple of your pieces had sold so you had to coordinate transport for them.

For the remaining few, you'd wrapped them up, gathered the papers for each one before loading them into the van to have them delivered back to your studio.

Oscar eventually made it back to the space he'd rented on Airbnb, staying in a hotel for a week definitely wasn't something he was fond of doing, a neatly packaged box of takeout planted on the small table.

He threw the crumpled paper bag into the bin and settled onto the couch, his phone in hand. He opened Instagram, scrolling through his feed to pass the time it'd take for him to get sleepy.

As he tapped through the stories, your profile picture caught his eye. He felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched it whole. The familiar scenes of the exhibition unfolded before him – videos capturing the venue, the artwork.

His gaze lingered on the art as if he hadn't been there tonight, his mind wandering into the world you had created. It wasn't just the work itself that interested him; it was the glimpse they offered into your mind, your perspective, and the emotions you poured into your work.

The admiration he felt for your creativity was intertwined with the growing fondness he was developing for you as a person.

Once you'd reached home, you dropped on to the couch with a sigh of relief that the day was done.

So, when your phone started vibrating besides you, you groaned and brought it up to your ear, not bothering to take a look at the caller ID.

"Y/N," you closed your eyes and waited for the other person to respond. They stuttered first before speaking up, "should I - should I reply with my name, or do we just get into the conversation?"

You lightly gasped, chuckling and straightening up on the couch. "Oscar, sorry. I'm still in work mode I think." You rubbed your forehead and the F1 driver poked through his food with a fork on the other end.

"No harm done. You back from the venue?" He asked and you stretched your legs out in front of you, fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"Yeah, only just. Perfect timing, Piastri." He smiled at your response, "I pride myself in that."

"I'm sure you do." You joked teasingly and fell back on the couch again. The similar onset of warmth and goosebumps from earlier bubbled up again inside of you.

"I thought you would've knocked out by now." Oscar hums, swallowing his food as he traps his phone between his ear and shoulder, throwing the now empty box on to the coffee table in front of him.

"Yeah well, I needed to eat. Luckily for me, there was a long queue at every takeaway place tonight." He retorted sarcastically and you scoffed, "typical London."

He agreed wordlessly before shifting his body horizontally, propping his head up on the armrest, his legs splaying over the leather sofa.

"What did you end up getting?" He made a humming sound as he reached for the receipt he'd tossed carelessly aside, bringing it up to eye level.

"Caribbean chicken curry." He said slowly, squinting to read the half-printed letters. Your stomach rumbling beneath you helped you remember that you too hadn't eaten for majority of the day. Your last meal was breakfast with a few snacks you always have on hand.

"Sounds good. I'd kill for some chicken curry right now." You mumble and Oscar's head turns to look up at the clock hung on the wall above the television.

"How 'bout I bring some?" He asks nonchalantly and your heart skips, you stutter in your response, glancing at the digital clock blinking at you from the corner table.

"You'd do that?" You say, a little more high-pitched than you would've preferred.

He smiles, refraining to say something corny. "Yeah, well I mean it's not my bedtime for another hour so..." He trails off thus leaving you to make the decision.

You don't even care about the food anymore, your stomach is doing somersaults from the mere thought of seeing him twice in one day.

"Only if it's alright with you. If you need to sleep, please sleep." You insist and there's a pause, you could swear you hear keys jangling on the other end of the phone before Oscar confirms.

"I'll be there in a bit."

...

You're changed into some slightly more flattering pyjamas than your regular animated giraffe ones when you hear a knock on your door. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you walk the length of the hallway and reach for the doorknob.

Giving it a couple of moments, you open the door to find Oscar standing there, a warm smile on his face that mirrors your own feelings.

He's holding a paper bag up and you smile, "my saviour. Come in."

He slides past you, toeing his trainers off and pushing them up to the wall so they weren't in the direct pathway, allowing you to lead him into the living room.

He places the bag on to your wooden dining table and you sigh in delight, the smell of the food faintly wafting out of it.

"How much do I owe you?" He shakes his head, letting you take the box out of the bag.

"Only your eternal gratitude," he replies, his lips curving into a smile as he takes in the sight of your light expression, your eyes lit with appreciation.

"You already have that." You chuckle.

Eventually, you begin eating, all the while holding a conversation. With each passing minute, a subtle worry creeps in - that he might decide to leave soon. Not that you're against him getting his rest, but your own enjoyment of his company is growing stronger by the second.

The idea of the evening ending prematurely becomes less and less appealing. The warmth of his presence, the humour in his words, the hesitance you initially felt about him leaving transformed into a silent plea for him to stay, at least a little longer.

"I'm going to go up and use the bathroom, head over to the couch, make yourself comfortable." You insist and Oscar nods. His feelings he was aware of when he reached back to his place had tripled since he'd got here.

His leg had been bouncing the entire duration he'd been talking, he was nervous but albeit not understandably. He'd visited your place a few times now, he'd known you for nearly a year.

Nothing about the fluttery sensation in his belly, the excitement prior to seeing you, the attraction, the thoughtfulness, made any sense to him.

But at the same time, they made perfect sense. He likes you. A whole lot.

Realising he was getting a bit warm, he pulled the hoodie over his neck to reveal just a plain white tee underneath.

Tossing it on to the dining room chair he was previously sat on, he plops on to the couch, bringing the calf of his right leg up to rest on the knee of his left, his arm outstretching on the back of the couch.

You eventually return, having brushed your teeth since the aftertaste of the curry wasn’t a very pleasant one in your mouth.

“Do you piss for that long?" Oscar asks curiously, locking his phone and sliding it on to the table.

You scoff and feign offence as you sit next to him just a few inches away. "I don't actually, even if I did, what's it to you?" You tease and he shrugs, his lower arm draping off the couch casually, his fingertips brushing close to your shoulder.

"I was bored," he admits, his explanation falling a bit flat.

You raise an eyebrow, a mockingly sympathetic expression on your face. "Poor Oscar, suffering from boredom in my humble abode. My heart aches for you." He smirks, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek as he shakes his head at your antics.

His eyes sparkle with amusement, "Well, I must say your empathy is truly heartwarming."

"That's just me, a paragon of compassion," you quip, a mischievous glint in your eyes. His proximity has your heart racing, and you're acutely aware of the playful tension that's building between you.

He tilts his head, his gaze holding yours as he leans in slightly. "You know, I was half expecting you to beg for my forgiveness."

You roll your eyes, your gaze locked on to his, you didn't mean for them to glance down to his lips, but it didn't skip past his notice either.

Your heart was hammering in your chest and the silence that followed afterwards definitely gave Oscar enough time to be able to pick up on it.

"Please forgive me Oscar, please?" You reduce your words to a whisper and he smiles, refusing to waste another second and he instantly ducks his head to catch your lips in a fervent kiss.

His actions catch you off guard, the sensation electrifying and sending a jolt of surprise through your system.

Your thoughts scatter as the world seems to narrow down to the point of contact between your lips. The kiss is eager and filled with a mixture of longing and curiosity, as if both of you have been dancing around this moment for far too long.

Your heart continues racing, and time feels suspended as his touch sends shivers up and down your spine.

The sudden intimacy of it all is exhilarating, and you find yourself responding without hesitation, your fingers instinctively finding their way to his arm, your body moving a fraction closer to his.

A soft moan escapes you, and Oscar slides his hand beneath your top, pressing his palm against your waist. A squeeze of your skin hints at you to move back slightly, creating the room needed for him to push you down on to your back.

Your lips detach for a moment as he positions himself over you, lowering his head seconds later to press them together again.

His face was level with yours when he eventually pulled away to catch his breath, and let you catch yours, his arm propping him up besides your head.

"Isn't it your bedtime?" He chuckles softly, his fingers toying with a few strands of your hair.

"I'll just have to use the plane's naptime feature." You laugh, bringing your hand up to push his hair out of his eyes.

His gaze flickers across your face, capturing the traces of your faint smile lines and the tiny beauty mark adorning your skin.

He leans in, planting a tender kiss on the mole. Meanwhile, your fingertips journey to the nape of his neck, exploring the contours of his hair.

He grins boyishly when he picks his head up again. "I think I could stay here forever," he admits, his voice a soft confession.

You playfully raise an eyebrow. "Oh really? What if the plane's naptime feature gets jealous?"

He chuckles, a low, melodious sound. "Well, I guess it'll just have to deal with a bit of competition," he remarks before his lips find yours once again.

...

Masterlist

[silvervioletvalentine]

-Heaven help a fool in love-

Pairing : oscar Piastri x fem OC Bee

Summary : in which Oscar is a certified , terrified , glorified simp for Bee . His teammate who scares the hell out of him.

Warnings - none? Bee is a little mean , mean girl vibes but mainly fluff . Just simp Oscar and bad ass Bee. - first time writing again in months so I’m just trying to get back into it, don’t really think this is any good but gotta start somewhere right? :))))))))

Oscar felt like he was going to be sick. His stomach tossing and turning , hands shaking and feeling like he was the epitome of that Eminem song . Knees weak , moms spaghetti and everything .

I mean, it couldn’t be very healthy for him to feel this way.

He panicked , eyes darting around the room , too scared to even look at the woman that was causing him all of these sickening emotions .

Was it possible to be going paler and redder at the same time? He touched the back of his fingers to his burning cheeks and fought back a wince , maybe he was dying .

Death by intimidation of the most beautiful (scary) woman he had ever seen in his life .

The anxious pit in his stomach had only been growing since he had been informed of just who would be his new teammate would be this year . Her name ringing like a siren in his head as he wondered if this was a dream come true or a nightmare coming to reality .

A dream in the fact of this was everything a guy like him could wish for , a successful , amazingly talented driver who already was on the road to becoming one of the best , joining him as his teammate .

And a nightmare in the way that this could not end well for him. He was so sure of it . Based on the very limited , few times he had already spoken to her in the past , he was going to humiliate himself and make her think that there was something wrong with him.

Not being able to mutter more than a mouthful of strained and stammered words to her like he was a fresh teenager talking to a girl for the first time ever.

Was it hot in this room? Oscar pulled at his tightening collar anxiously , sweating profusely. Or was he perhaps having a heart attack?

He accidentally glanced across the table and caught eyes with Bee , the woman causing his feelings of imminent death and swallowed hard.

Bee was so beautiful but just so intimidating to him. With dirty blonde hair and sharp green eyes, cheek bones that could cut his skin and lips that had no right looking the way they did ..as the kids these days say, her face card never ever declined .

And then there was her tattoos , a body of art everywhere . Covering her arms , her legs , her stomach and chest . Every part of her skin that he caught a glimpse of was like a work of literal art for him to gaze at . And then there was the glittering piercings too, on her nose , her eyebrow , ears covered in diamonds and hoops .

She was a dream.

A beautiful dream but then she opened her mouth and Oscar was like a teenage boy all over again.

Because Bee was loud and rude and quite frankly mean. Judgemental and not afraid to express her opinion , she had gathered quite the reputation for herself . The complete opposite of Oscar’s quite and mellow personality , she was wild and free .

And it scared him because how was he supposed to mount up to anything in her eyes? He knew that she must of thought of him as some meek weirdo who couldn’t even look her in the eye for more than a second at a time without stammering like a little kid. But he just couldn’t help it.

He was mesmerised by all that she was . But he was also terrified of her too because he had seen how mean and how quick to anger she could be and he did not want to be on the wrong side of her , ever . No thank you.

They couldn’t have been more different and it upset him because he wanted her to like him , so badly .

But then he thought about how that one time she had asked him what he did on their break and he had quietly told her that he had just stayed at home , enjoying the peace and quite .

To which she had paused , nodded and casually told him that she had jumped out of a plane for fun. And that was the end of that conversation because what else could he have even said that a meek “cool.”

He must have seemed so lame to Bee and it made all of these nauseating feelings even worse.

I mean for gods sake , why couldn’t he have gotten a crush on someone a little less likely to kill him if he even so much as stepped out of line?

A loud clearing of a throat snapped him out of his panicking and in a daze he noticed that the room was already clearing out , eyes widening in shock at how long he had dissociated in panic for.

Then his heart dropped even further in his stomach as he turned his head to see who was wanting his attention , only to see Bee’s expectant eyes sharpening at him.

“Oh.” He breathed out in shock “hi.” He barely hid the grimace at how Pathetic he sounded then. Swallowing and shoving his trembling hands into his hoodie pocket .

Bee nodded at him a little skeptically , still eyeing him like there was something wrong with him.

“Hey. Are you okay? You looked a little spaced out there . Everything good?” She wondered , eyeing his red cheeks with a slight frown.

She wondered why he acted this way around her . From what she had seen, Oscar was always calm and friendly with the other drivers but to her he was always a little …stiff . Withdrawn, almost scared?

She tried to think back to remember if she had ever done or said anything to the Australian that could have him shaking in his trainers like he was. But nothing came to mind .

Her frown deepened , unaware that her curious frown looked more like a glare to poor Oscar .

He exhaled sharply , nodding his head too quickly .

“Yeah! Yeah. So good, just a little tired.” He said. Just wishing he could be cool around her for once.

But she looked so god damn pretty and her Spanish accent was thick from being home over the holidays as she spoke back to him casually like they were friends , making his heart jump in his chest.

“You need to get good sleep. I don’t want a tired teammate , too restless to help me out on the track.” She tried to tease him, to lighten him up a bit.

But Oscar took her words seriously , nodding his head with a heartfelt look on his face .

“I will always help you out.” He promised sincerely .

Bee paused , caught of guard. Then let out a slightly awkward laugh , nodding her head .

A little weird, she hummed in amusement , but also very cute. She grinned as she looked back at him .

“That’s very sweet.” She replied then asked him “speaking of helping me out , do you have a car?”

Oscar rose a brow at her “yes? Why?” He wondered at the sudden question . So random and abrupt .

She gave him a little smile , Tilting her head to be more appealing to get what she wanted. Oblivious to the fact that she only had to blink and Oscar would give her his kidney if she wanted it.

He was down bad. So , so freaking bad. It was disgusting really .

“My car doesn’t arrive till tomorrow night and I need to get to track . You have two cars right? One from team too?” She said.

It made him feel giddy that she had clearly kept some type of tabs on him to know that, so giddy in fact that he failed to mention that one car was back in Australia.

He only had one right now. The mclaren the team had given him. The same one she would be getting tomorrow night as well.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t even think about his next words , blurting them out loudly “you can have my car.”

She blinked at him in shock “yeah? You don’t mind? I know it’s a lot to ask-“

Oscar quickly shakes his head , smiling at her. “No! No. It’s fine. It’s only for tomorrow, you can have it.” Internally panicking as he realised just what he had said. But he couldn’t take it back now, not when she was smiling at him like he was her saviour.

She then reached out and grabbed him into a quick hug , laughing happily while he stood stock still in shock. Glowing red and heart palpating , feeling like he was in a dream.

“Thanks Oscar! I owe you one . You can ride mine anytime you want.” She tells him with a wink as she pulls away.

“See you tomorrow!” She leaves him standing there with wide eyes and red cheeks.

Hand pressed to his chest, eyes closed tight in disbelief .

“Shit.” He breathed out grimacing to himself as he realised that he had no ride to the track either now since he had just given his only car away.

Bee felt herself frown in disbelief as she drove down the road and spotted a familiar man in walking on the sidewalk alone , blowing the horn at him loudly and watching Oscar jump out of his skin.

His head snapping over to her in shock, giving her a sheepish grin when she glared back at him in absolute disbelief .

“What are you doing? Why are you walking? Where is your other car?” She throws the questions at him quickly as she pulls over to a stop in front of him.

Oscar paused , then mumbled quietly, embarrassed “Australia.” Peeking up after a minute of silence to see Bee gaping at him like he had lost his damn mind.

She spluttered loudly “what the fuck? Then why did you give me your car?!” She almost shouts , wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Who did that?!

He shrugged weakly “you needed it?” It comes out more of a question as he meekly gives her a smile as if to calm her down. Wondering why she looked so angry at him now.

She didn’t know what to feel other than frustration and confusion , wondering if he was so scared of her that he felt intimidated to give her his damn car! What the hell?

“So do you obviously!” She shot back while getting out of the drivers seat and rounding the car , opening the door for him to get into the passengers seat.

She stood like a disapproving parent , hand on top of the door as she scolded at him “get in Oscar!” She demanded while pointing her finger to the seat sternly.

And like the good guy he was, he quickly scurried to get in. Bee slamming the door behind him and getting back behind the wheel.

It was quite for a moment as she continued to drive , side eyeing him with a scowl on her pretty face while Oscar sat, blushing , beside her quietly.

She was concerned “are you being bullied?” She wondered out loud . Because what else could make someone think they had to give her their car just because she wanted it?

Oscar looked at her in shock “no! What?” He looked equally as confused as her now.

She frowned at him “then why so easy to give? Are you scared of me?” She then asked him wanting to figure this out .

Oscar wanted to die “no. God. No.” Yes. Very scared actually but not of her but scared of the way she made him feel.

It was stupid , he felt stupid and it was all her fault.

He looked back at her with a offended frown “you’re not scary.” He lied.

She scoffed , then jerked the wheel sharply making him let out a girly scream.

She snickered meanly “sure. Don’t lie next time otherwise I break your fingers.” She let him know calmly .

Oscar swallowed dryly at her threat having a feeling she wasn’t joking either .

“I didn’t - I didn’t exactly lie.” He tried to justify himself nervously “just emitted a little fact is all.” He muttered

Bee just rolled her eyes “you’re too cute to be this stupid.” She told him casually like she wasn’t flipping his whole world upside down with a single comment .

Oscar just looked at her in shock . Cute? She thought he was cute? He inhaled deeply , biting back a giddy grin.

“Thanks.” He stupidly replied instead . In a daze from being called cute.

He misses the way she rolls her eyes again, fondly shaking her head at him.

Definitely something wrong with him. She thought.

After that it became a habit of his to do everything for Bee, even when she didn’t need it or even asked him to do so.

He made sure no one bothered her before each race so she could get into the zone , making sure that she always had a sugary candy to eat as soon as she got out the car.

He made sure that she always had water on hand , he had elastic ties around his wrist to tie back her hair for her when she was sweaty.

Casually sitting behind her while she talked to lando about something , gathering her hair into his hands, Bee not even blinking or pausing in conversation as Oscar tried to braid if for her. Having watched some YouTube videos on doing hair for her.

Ignoring the flabbgasted look lando was giving him, he preened at the affectionate tap to the thigh she gave him when he was done . Feeling more of a rush from her simple touch than he did after a race, it was electrifying .

He stood in front of the beaming sunlight as soon as he noticed the way Bee began to squint as it stung her eyes , positioning himself so that she was shaded instead . He smiled to himself as she handed him her bag to hold while she got out her phone from her pocket , chatting casually to him.

He hooked her glittery bag onto his shoulder , unbothered by the looks he was getting from everyone else .

“I mean can you believe that bitch? Calling me trash when she looked like she had murdered Elmo and worn him for lunch? I mean- she had that much filler in her face that she could barely even blink!” She ranted to him bitchily like she usually did whenever someone annoyed her after learning that Oscar loved hearing her gossip and bitching.

Oscar nodded his head along in agreement , grinning in amusement at how mean she was . “She sure could cry though , Botox couldn’t stop the wailing.” He commented .

Bee just shrugged , unfazed . “She had it coming talking to me like that.” She replied.

“You could make even the coldest person cry.” He said impressed. Then he held out her little mirror in front of her for her while she reapplied her lipstick , quietly admiring her some more as she did so

Lando couldn’t take it anymore. After watching him put food in a designer lunchbox for Bee , hand washing her car for her and then asking him if he thought she would like a rag doll cat for her birthday. He couldn’t keep it in any longer .

“Did you drop the soap around her or something mate? Is that how you became her little bitch?” He joked. Laughing hysterically as he watched Oscar’s cheek immediately blaze with heat.

Oscar glared at him despite the embarrassment clearly on his face .

“I am not her bitch!” He denied weakly. He definitely was a little bit . “I’m just being nice. Like a good teammate.” He added as an after thought , another weak excuse .

Lando just snorted at him “you never brought me lunch or hand washed my car.” He said amused.

Oscar doesn’t miss a beat “that’s cause I don’t like you.” He snapped back at him defensively .

Lando smirked triumphantly “so you like her then?”

Oscar paused at his mistake , blinking wide eyes as he quickly tried to back peddle . “I don’t like her!”

“So you hate her?” He teased him. Trying to get him to admit what they all already knew.

“No!”

“So you do like her?”

“No!”

Lando tilted his head mockingly “so what do you think of her then? I think you’ve got a little crush Oscar. I think that you think she’s really pretty and you want to bang her-“

Oscar gasped loudly at him , face bright red “Lando! Shut up! I don’t have a crush on her! Jesus! What are you? Ten?” He hissed back at him , mortified .

Lando just giggled loudly at his reaction “you are so red!” He grinned at him amused “you like her soooo much-“

Oscar nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice piped up behind him, making his stomach sink as he watched lando smirk mischievously at him. Ever the shit stirrer .

“Who do you like? Do you have a crush Oscar?” Bee was frowning at him, not liking what she was hearing at all . The cute little guy that followed her around and did everything she asked was looking elsewhere? she didn’t like that thought at all.

Oscar looked back at her, saw her frown and frowned too. Because why was she frowning? He almost felt offended , assuming the worst.

Did she think that he was so Pathetic that a girl couldn’t possibly like him? That he couldn’t have a crush because he was so weird?

He frowned back at her even harder then , still defensive from Landos teasing.

“No I don’t! But so what if I did? Am I not allowed to have a crush?!” He exclaimed annoyed at the both of them now.

Lando just laughed while Bee just looked at him like he had lost his mind.

“Who?” She wanted to know, blunt and not giving a shit how demanding she seemed. “Who is the stupid girl that has you like this?” She felt her blood pressure rise.

Because In her mind Oscar was already hers. They hung out together , he did everything for her. She was pretty and hot and why wouldn’t Oscar want her? Surely there couldn’t be anyone better than her?

She scoffed bitterly .

Oscars eyes were wide and he looked terrified , face pale and cheeks a dark red. He gaped at her angry face , looking at him like he had somehow betrayed her.

“I don’t like anyone! Lando was just kidding weren’t you lando?” He hissed at the stupid Brit that had started all this in the first place , who was looking for too entertained for his liking.

Lando looked at his panicked face then at Bee’s angry one and laughed loudly . “Sure I was. And anyway , Oscar likes scary women. Don’t you buddy?” He patted him on the shoulder before leaving him to deal with the aftermath on his own, even giving him a wink as he went.

Bee frowned then tilted her head, brain ticking as she took in landos sly comment.

Huh. She relaxed a little then, maybe she was the stupid girl.

“Oscar?” She voiced.

He swallowed thickly “yeah?”

“I’m hungry.” She simply said looking pointedly at the lunch box in his hand.

“What are we having today?” She asked him taking him by the hand and leading him over to the table to eat.

He inhaled sharply , squeezing the palm of her hand three times. “Quiche and yoghurt . It’s strawberry and vanilla and -“ he suddenly frowned at her worriedly “you’re not like , allergic to yogurt are you? Or cheese? Cause I’m not trying to kill you or anything! I’ve never even asked you if you’re allergic to anything . Are you? That’s so stupid and careless of me-“

Before he could continue on his panicked tangent , Bee quickly cut him off.

Letting of a fond little giggle , she nudged his shoulder with hers in amusement . “The only thing I’m allergic to is bullshit Oscar.” She gave him a pointed look.

He just nodded quietly .

Then “Bee?” He spoke up timidly handing her the yoghurt to eat after watching her devour the food.

She just hummed , handing him her orange juice to take a sip of in return.

“Are you- do you have a boyfriend?” He manages to spit out meekly.

Bee hid her giddy smirk in her spoon, simply shaking her head no. “Very single. Could be persuaded not to be though.” She let him know , side eyeing him teasingly .

Oscar went red. Looked down at the table and nodded his again. “Ah okay. Cool.” Was all he muttered.

Another minute went by then Bee side eyed him again , watching him play shyly with his fingers while he waited for her to finish eating.

“Are you? Single?” She asked him . He better be, she thought darkly . This cute boy was hers.

Oscar startled , looking at her like a deer in headlights. Then he rapidly nodded his head. “Very.”

“Good.” Was all she replied.

He nodded too.

Good .

Cool.

They said nothing else on the matter. But Oscar’s hopes soared.

It kept going on like that for a while , Bee calling him cute and pretty and adorable and Oscar running after her like ‘a certified pathetic simp’ as lando likes to say. And it was going well in Oscar’s opinion , he got a little less shy and a lot more comfortable around her . A lot less scared.

And maybe that’s why he felt so comfortable agreeing to drink with her after a particularly good race . Allowing her to convince him to eat cake and drink champagne ,

Oscar found himself absolutely shitfaced on her couch. Very quickly reminded of why he didn’t drink , he was such a lightweight.

Which was how he found himself gazing at a equally as drunk Bee next to him on the coach, gazing at her like she had hung the moon in his sky.

His filter was gone and heart was on his drunken sleeve and he played with her soft hair in adoration.

“You’re so pretty. Like- like a plane.” He slurred to her.

Bee giggled quietly , nudging her head against his shoulder as she peered up at him with glassy eyes full of amusement . “Like a plane?”

Oscar nodded seriously “yeah but like the kind of plane people think are planes but then they blink and it’s the prettiest star in the sky. Not a plane.” He rambled to her passionately “you have such nice skin too.” He added as an after thought .

Bee was a giggling mess. “I think you’re really pretty too. I like your nose.” She whispered with a grin before planting a kiss on said nose affectionately.

He blushed , dazed. “Thank. I want to marry you.” He then blurted out without any grace , grinning drunkenly down at her like a sappy fool .

Bee laughed loudly in shock , looking up at him with a tipsy grin on her face. “Oh yeah? But you can barely even speak to me sober! How at you gonna marry me?” She teased him .

Oscar sniffled , serious when it came to how he felt about her , drunk or not .

“I’ve been working on it. I like doing things for you and seeing you smile. I like that you call me just to bitch about a bitch.” He replied honestly .

Bee felt her face soften as she saw the pure dedication on his face , all for her. She gently grabbed his face in her hand, stroking his red cheek with her thumb softly.

“You got a crush on me?” She whispered teasingly. Nudging her nose with his.

Oscar Just smiled and gently shook his head . “No. Much more than that.” He whispered back.

Bee smiled softly “yeah? You like me then?”

He laughed quietly and kissed the corner of her mouth gently , lingering there before pulling back just a little to see her eyes flutter closed.

“I love you.” He simply told her , drunk on champagne and his buzzy Bee. “So much it makes me silly. And I gave you my car even though I didn’t have another one and I want to hold your bag for you forever , and I want to make you lunch and kiss your face..” he whispered to her , blinking dazedly as the alcohol finally caught up to him.

He pulled the blanket further around their bodies , feeling her trembling breath on his lips as she looked at him with tears in her eyes. Knowing that he meant it too.

“I want you to be my girl.” He yawned.

She gently ran her fingers through his hair and laid down on the couch , letting him place his head on her chest tiredly as he snuggled up to her , intertwining their legs together .

“If you still feel this way in the morning , I will be.”

Too tired to speak anymore , he just linked his pinky finger with hers, a silent promise , and tucked his face further onto her neck . Letting her pull him close as he drifted off to sleep .

Oscar woke with a pounding head and a churning stomach , but he froze up as soon as he felt soft fingers in his hair. Sheepishly peering up at Bee’s amused face as she looked down at her with a tired smile on her face too.

“Morning sleepyhead. Sleep good?” She yawned. Tugging him closer to her , making his heart skip a beat.

Oscar nodded sheepishly then hesitantly cleared his throat as he remembered last night . Fidgeting with the strap of her top , he bit down on his bottom lip nervously as he wondered how to go about this.

“Bee?” He murmured shyly against her chest as he peered up at her through his lashes , letting out a content sigh at the feeling of her nails scratching lightly at his scalp , lulling him into calmness .

She smiled down at him knowingly “yeah?”

He hesitated for a moment , then muttered quietly “I’m not a forgetful morning after drunk.”

Bee just giggled “really? So you want to marry me then? Kiss my face forever?” She teased him softly.

Oscar just nodded, laughing sheepishly . “Yeah. I want to- I want you to be mine. My girlfriend. If you want that too.” He rambled anxiously “if you don’t want them that’s fine obviously -“

Bee giggled and quickly stopped him there “you want to date me?”

He nodded rapidly “so bad.”

She just smiled happily and casually muttered “okay.”

“Okay?” He repeated in disbelief .

She laughed in amusement “yup.”

He gaped at her , eyes wide and dazed “that easy? No fight? No negotiations?” He spluttered in disbelief .

She laughed loudly at him then “I love you Oscar okay? I want to be with you too , so yes it’s that easy.” She told him firmly . Easily . Simply.

Oscar felt like he was slipping into shock. “Cool.” Was all he could get out “I mean- I love you too. Yeah - this is awesome.” He grinned down at her happily . Overwhelmed with his love for her.

“Kiss?” He shyly asked while gently cupping her cheek in his hand , wide eyes gazing into hers , feeling like he was in a dream.

Bee just giggled before closing the gap and finally kissing him . Feeling the relieved breath he let out against her mouth as he finally relaxed against her , humming against her lips contently .

“Love you.” He mumbled into the kiss while smiling like a fool in love . “Love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She giggled as they continued to make out like teenagers on her couch.

Becoming teammates was the best thing they had ever done .

Lando was going to be the smuggest bastard ever when he found out that he was right .

[purinfelix]

f1 drivers as meet-cutes ₊˚⊹⋆ pt. 2

summary: a continuation of pt. 1, some small blurbs about meeting drivers in equally awkward and romantic situations! featuring: OP81, LN44 and GR63 warnings: none!

a/n: didn't really plan on making a pt2 this soon but the Oscar one came to me in a vision and i just had to (also yes George's one is basically the scene from notting hill and Lando's isn't technically a meet cute but shh) ... but hope u enjoy!!

ᝰ.ᐟ Oscar Piastri - forced proximity

Planning to catch a train home during peak hour on a Wednesday evening had not been one of your best ideas. And this thought only echoed as you rushed down the station steps, shoving past many blazer and winter coat clad bodies to make it to your train on time. Luckily, and partially thanks to the boost your adrenaline had given you, you managed to squeeze through the doors just as they were closing. The relieved sigh you were on the verge of letting out was interrupted though, replaced by a much more imminent feeling of claustrophobia as you notice how packed the train really is.

As if this isn’t enough, the train makes a sudden stop, flinging your unsteady figure onto the body of the person beside you. Embarrassed by the sudden closeness, but also too busy trying to recompose yourself and your bag, you gaze upwards to be met with the composed, but not emotionless, eyes of a beautiful stranger. They’re so brown and inviting, even set within his seemingly cool expression that you can’t help but feel entranced by them. You’re brought out of this trance though, as you notice him mouthing to you - “Are you okay?” - to which you can only nod in a jerky, flustered way. A string of hushed apologies spills out of your mouth until you notice his hand hovering closely around your waist, which you tell yourself he’s just doing to keep you upright, but this does little to calm your nerves.

You feel yourself sweating bullets as an endless amount of lumps form in your throat, making it hard to speak and alleviate what is already one of the most awkward situations you’ve been in in a while. But, you’re still so deeply lost in this stranger’s eyes and the way he keeps glancing over at you to make sure you’re alright and even silently leaning himself so as to offer his own body as support that you can’t stop yourself from blurting out a “What’s your name?”. To this, he responds with “Oscar”, his tone so warming in the midst of the cold train carriage that you find yourself stuttering out more words as excuses to keep the conversation, and his attention, going. Peak-hour train rides were never a good idea, but maybe this one wasn’t so bad.

ᝰ.ᐟ Lando Norris - roommates

All you wished for in your first year of university was to have a normal roommate and to get on with your studies. But when you arrived to your ‘move-in’ day to be greeted with empty boxes as far as your eye could physically see and no room mate waiting to greet you, you knew your wishes would not be fulfilled.

And this only grew more apparent over the beginning months you spent in your dorm. The boxes cleared up over the first couple of days, but only to be replaced with their contents - clothes, shoes, beaten-up golf balls - strewn across floors. Your roommate’s name became less of an identifier and more of an accomplice to your never-ending complaints about him, to the point where your friends were well acquainted with the man despite never having met him.

“Lando left ten half-full glasses of milk on the countertop for me when I woke up for morning class this morning.”

“I’m so sick of Lando making so much noise when he comes home after parties, he wakes me up every time.”

"Would it kill Lando to take his dirty clothes to the laundry and actually wash them instead of waiting until they amass at the foot of his bed?"

But all you could do was handle it in silence as best you could - picking up his mess, cleaning his milk glasses and making sure he was in bed after a late night out. Yet through it all, you found yourself strangely endeared by the roommate you so often complained about, after a while of living around each other and becoming attuned to one another’s routines and habits. Because for every stray sock left hanging over a couch, there was a warm bagel from the cafe he visited after his morning runs waiting for you on the counter. For every night he woke you up with his drunken stumbling there would be another when you kept him up with trivial discussions like which Spice Girl each of your professors would be. For every “It’s only been a month but I swear to god Lando is driving me nuts,” there was a "It’s only been a month, but I’m really starting to like Lando.”

ᝰ.ᐟ George Russell - a coffee accident

You’re late. Terribly, awfully, insanely late to a meeting you had had written in your schedule for over two weeks now. But somehow, through a series of poorly-timed coincidences including a family of ducks crossing the road your bus was going through and a hold up at the coffee shop because of a misplaced latte, you find yourself walking as fast as you can towards your office. You’re so caught up in getting to where you need to go in the least amount of time that you’re almost not thinking about any of the people you’re careening past, or the fact that you left the coffee shop in such a rush that you forgot to get a lid for your cup.

That is, until you smash headfirst into the chest of someone as you turn the final corner to your office and you feel your precious caffeine surge up into the air before splashing down onto the white, ironed and seemingly very expensive shirt of some poor stranger. A complimentary “Shit!” comes spilling out of your mouth alongside it, your empty cup falling defeated to the ground beside you. Looking up you lock onto the stranger’s deep blue eyes, which look less mad and more confused at the situation at hand. Still, even with a splatter of dark brown on his shirt, you’re taken aback by how oddly handsome he is, although this seems to add another layer to your insanely bad luck this morning. You’re about to start listing off as many sincere ways to say ‘sorry’ as you can muster until a glance at your watch reminds you of the meeting you’re supposed to be almost halfway through by now.

So instead, you pull out one of the coffee shop napkins you had shoved into your pocket as well as a pen. Hastily, you scratch your phone number alongside an ‘IOU’, pocketing both and slamming the napkin onto the now damp and stained shirt of the stranger who only looks at you with a, now partially amused, expression. “Just give me a call-” you say, trying to think of a respectful way to address him before he comes to the rescue. “George,” he replies, still oddly calm. “George,” you say, as if to yourself, before patting him on the shoulder and restarting your sprint towards your office. Soon, you finally found yourself at the front doors of your office, but strangely enough just before opening them you thought about how exactly you would repay the handsome stranger - since offering to buy him a coffee now seemed ironic and a bit inconsiderate, maybe he would prefer tea.

[silversainz]

Causing chaos ★ CP81

Pairing (s) Oscar piastri x fem!reader

# summary — it’s hot in Miami so what better way than to kill time than to have a water fight and also hunt down your friends.

# Warnings — all fluff, features from other drivers, like a few swear words, more-so a platonic fic rather than a romantic one, proofread but there might be some small errors. I’ve also fallen down the cscar rabbit hole and i can’t get up.

Miami probably one of the hottest places on earth, or at least that’s you said considering you could practically feel sweat falling from every part of your body.

You sighted for felt like the thousand time, the waving of your hand in front of your face doing absolutely nothing to bring coldness to your face. Oscar turned around to look at you, a little giggle escaping his lips as he saw you standing there like a mother at her son’s baseball game, one hand on your hip and the other hand fanning your face.

“Would you stop being a baby, its not that bad” you glanced over to where ocsar stood under the shade and a little fan in his face.

“You have a fan in your face….and you’re under the shade, what?’’ He chuckled at you as you went back to using your hand as a fan, groaning as it did nothing to help you. “Jesus hell, is satan coming or something, why’s it so hot” he walked over to you practically shoving the little fan in your hands.

“It’s literally Miami, what did you expect, especially when you’re wearing that” he pointed to your outfit, which for some reason you decided to wear jeans and a sweatshirt, that was definitely not Oscar’s old one that you stole from him.

“Listen i wanted to be a fashionable today….I’m now regretting that tho” you said. Oscar shook his head at your complaining and grabbed onto your hand, quite literally yanking you into the shade with him.

A few people gave you looks as he did, which in return you gave them an awkward smile and wave. “There feel better” he asked going to sit down on one of the chairs.

You nodded sighing in relief as the shade cooled you down, “yeah much better’’ you went to sit beside him, him giving you a soft smile as you did so.

Silence fell upon you two, which you liked. Enjoying the view, which wasn’t much considering you were literally in the middle of an stadium. But it felt nice, watching people walk around, different drivers doing some sort of game with footballers…and oh somebody putting down a bucket of water guns.

You looked at the person who sat them down, eyeing his every move as he throw some sort of towel over them so nobody could see them, but, oh, you did. You looked over at cscar who was busy doing something on his phone to notice you get up and make a run for the bucket, throwing the colored towel off, you picked up a water gun and ran over to where Oscar was still typing away on his phone.

“Hey piastri” his ears pricked up at the sound of your voice, he lowered his phone down and immediately jumped up from his seat when he saw what you were holding.

“Y/n, no. Put the water gun down” you giggled, finger on the trigger ready to shoot water at him, “and why not” he backed up from you hands covering his face.

A light scream erupted from his mouth as you shot the water at him. “Y/n what the hell” he laughed looking down at his orange mclaren shirt now covered in water.

You gripped your chest laugher falling from your lips, seeing the offended look on his face. But that laugher soon died down when his eyes locked on the bucket of water guns.

He gave you a wink before running full force towards the bucket picking up a random gun and running back towards you. Which in your vision was a scary sight to see, Oscar, a wide smile on his smile, as he ran towards you a gun in hand, finger on the trigger ready to now shoot you with water.

“Shit NO!” You scream feeling the water hit your chest, you both now ran around screaming and laughing as you both shot water on one another. The sight caused attention to other people around you who smiled to themselves seeing the two youngsters messing around.

“I call truce please” you gasped out of breath, and clothes now covered in all water from head to toe.

“You sure, love. Because I don’t think you mean that” you put your hand up, the other one still gripping the gun tightly in hand.

You nodded, “am sure” he was really falling for it you thought. He walked up towards you hand out and ready to call truce, but you took that has your opportunity and shot water straight at his face. He froze, hand wiping away the water from his face.

“Oh, love.. you made a big mistake’’ your breath picked up, feet ready to run. “Should have just called truce fairly” he said, re-picking up his gun. At that sight, you ran screams escaping your mouth as you felt water hit your back.

You turned around ready to aim and shot water back, but he was nowhere to be found. You saw a few drivers looking at you holding in their laugher while they pointed at an object behind one of the tents.

“Where” you mouthed towards Alex who had George and Charles beside him. As they pointed out where you bolted towards that area founding Oscar there reloading his gun with water.

“Wait shit’’ he looked up at you, a smirk on his face as he you saw standing there ready to aim the gun at him, but no water coming out. You were out of water

“I’m gonna give you a chance to run” you didn’t think twice your feet already hitting the fake grass beneath you as you ran away from him.

Your adrenaline ran high as you ran towards the bucket where the water guns where at. As you made it there, you didn’t know how he made there so quickly but you saw Alex standing there a gun already in hand for you to take.

You snatched it from his hand, turning around to shoot Oscar who was so close that you shot him in the face again. “Holy shit’’ Alex laughed from beside you not even caring that he got water on himself.

“The FACE again y/n” Oscar yelled at you as he cleaned his face yet again.

You hitched over hands on your knees as you took in deep breaths. “Didn’t know-‘’ you stopped yourself losing your breath from just speaking, “you where so close” you finally said straighten up your back now standing face to face with him, Alex shook his head at you two before walking away.

“Truce now” he held it his hand, which you took locking your hands together.

“Yeah, yeah, truce whatever”

You were about to drop your gun to the floor, when Oscar titled his head in the direction of a certain mclaren driver and former driver, lando and Daniel talking in the corner completely unaware of the situation that you and Oscar where in.

You giggled reloading your gun with water before you both bolted towards the two drivers. Now this, caught the eyes of many people watching in amusement as they saw the two youngsters running the mclaren driver and redbull driver.

‘’Oh lando” you sweetly called out, watching his head turn towards you. Daniel jumped already hiding behind him as he saw you two in front of them holding water guns.

“Oh fuck no-‘’ lando tried running away but between Daniel holding him in place and literally having nowhere to run, he was immediately covered in water.

Daniel laughed hard clutching onto his chest as he looked at lando, ‘’oh mate they got you good’’ he was laughing still that is until he saw you aim your gun at him, is when he started running. ‘’No fuck, no” he said while running around the field.

You laughed chasing him down, “oh Danny boy” fortunately he wasn’t fast enough as George caught him in his arms and turned him around so you could spray him with water

“Oh mate’’ George and Alex laughed as they saw Daniel’s RedBull shirt covered in water. “You’re both dead” that’s all he said as he ran away, low-key scaring you both.

“Alright kids i think it’s time to put the water guns down” Alex said, holding out his hands to take the water guns away from you both, which you both gave him, also accepting the towels that Charles handed you both.

“Now I think you both better hide from him, he turns into a mad-man with water guns’’ Charles said and that’s all it took for you both to start running away from that area, returning to your previous spot underneath the shade.

“Oh god should i be worried” cscar asked, sitting down on of the chairs, patting beside him so you could sit there bedside him.

you chuckled, “mmm, maybe a bit, he’s scary sometimes’’ you said drying your hair and taking off your sweatshirt revealing the shirt underneath.

“You had a shirt underneath the whole time!?’’ He pointed at your shirt, You laughed at him

“Yes, was gonna take my sweatshirt off, but then you oh-so cutely gave me your fan’’ he sighed throwing his towel to the side once he was completely dried off.

“Whatever’’

[costkappen]

Boyfriend texts with Oscar 🫶🏻2

Warnings: suggestive, 18+

Sorry for the late post but work kicked my ass today

Tag list: @firelily-mimi @scopeiguess

[scuderiahoney]

Tangerine

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist // Part 1 // Part 1.5 // Part 2

Summary: You’re definitely not an insomniac. But Oscar keeps finding you awake at all hours, and he’s starting to get worried. Or: I wrote this while actually being unable to sleep, passed out for 3 hours, woke up and finished it. So… here you go, I guess?

Word Count: 6.8k

Warnings: insomnia, anxiety/mild paranoia?, alcohol, limited knowledge of the actual structure of the MTC and the corporate structure of McLaren in general, a poorly researched night in Tokyo

The MTC lobby is empty, besides you. The lights are half turned off, motion sensors that have gone hours without detecting anything. You’ve stuck to your table in the corner. It’s quiet, just how you like it.

You look up from your notebook after who knows how long, blinking your weary eyes. Outside, the floodlights reflect off the inky black lake. There’s a car, pulling up in the drop off area outside the front doors. It’s Oscar, you think, his car one of a few that are easily recognizable. Sure enough, it’s confirmed when he climbs out of the driver’s side door. He leaves it running as he makes his way up to the door.

Oscar scans his pass and the doors swing open, followed by all of the lights in the lobby flickering on. You squint, fighting the urge to shield your eyes from the harsh lighting. Oscar is rushing through the lobby, a man on a mission, but he skids to a stop about halfway across the shiny tiled floor.

He turns, slowly, and makes eye contact with you. “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

You hold back a laugh, thinking that might be a little mean, all things considered. “What are you doing here?”

He sighs, hands hanging at his sides. “I forgot my phone charger, and my laptop, and…” he pauses, frowning at you. “What are you doing here?”

You raise your brows right back. “Working?”

You watch his eyes flicker across your setup. You’re still in the same McLaren sweatshirt you’d been wearing when you saw him that morning. Your hair is piled atop your head. Your laptop sits open in front of you, the only source of light before Oscar burst through the doors. There are papers and notebooks scattered on the tabletop. Your pen is missing- you selfishly hope that as he scours your table, he’ll spot it.

“You got here at 8am,” he says, bewildered. “It’s almost midnight. That’s almost 16 hours.”

He says nothing about the pen. Why would he? He doesn’t know it’s missing. Logically, it must be here somewhere, probably under a paper or clipped to a notebook, but you’ve given up.

“Yes,” you answer, smirking. “You’re great at math, Oscar.”

He rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, home? Sleeping?”

You shrug. “I took breaks. It’s not like I’ve been working all day straight.”

You’re not lying. You’d taken a good, long lunch break, and an afternoon walk around the grounds. You’ve gotten up to stretch a couple times, made runs to the break room for coffee. You hope he doesn’t see straight through it, though. Hope he can’t see the dark circles under your eyes, the paleness of your skin, the exhaustion weighing your shoulders.

It’s not that you weren’t tired. You just knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep. One of those days. So instead, you had decided to be productive. Which had led to this- you in the lobby of your office building, hunched over a laptop. Oscar, the driver whose data you’re scouring, staring at you with wide eyes.

“Go grab your stuff,” you tell him, nodding towards the doors he’d been headed to. “You have an early flight tomorrow.”

He blinks wildly. “We’re on the same flight.”

You nod, because you both know this quite well. There’d been a meeting this morning about who had to be where and at what times. You’re on the first flight out with the main team, headed to Singapore.

“I’m not the one who has to drive the car at very high speeds this weekend,” you remind him, pointing the eraser of your pencil at him. “Or the one who has to be in front of the cameras. You need your beauty sleep.”

Oscar laughs at that, a happy sound that makes you smile, too. “Okay, okay. I’ll be right back.”

You think about disappearing to the bathroom or the break room while he’s gone, just to avoid any further questions. You know Oscar relatively well, though, and knowing him, he’d just wait around until you came back. Or worse, come and try to find you. You can picture it- you pouring your third cup of coffee in the last hour, Oscar watching from the doorway with disdain. You stay put, sipping from your mug and scribbling notes.

He’s back within a few minutes, a backpack in hand. His keys dangle from his fingertips. You don’t look up from your laptop as he walks towards you, that is until he’s standing right in front of you. You blink up at him through your lashes. There’s a frown on his face- this close, you know your lack of sleep must be obvious.

He nudges the top panel of your laptop with a single fingertip. “C’mon. Time to go home.”

“I’m fine,” you tell him, shaking your head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, bright and early.”

“What, you just gonna stay here until we all meet up in the morning to go to the airport?” He scoffs.

“That would be ridiculous,” you laugh.

“It would,” he agrees. He seems to see straight through you, though. “Come on. Close the laptop, close the notebooks. You can work on this on the flight, like a normal person.”

“I’m trying to improve your car, you know.”

“I’m not leaving until you do,” he finally says, and you scoff with wide eyes. “And remember, I’m the one who has to actually drive the car. And go in front of the cameras. I need my beauty sleep.”

You rear your head back, unsure how to even counter that. He takes the opportunity to close the laptop for you, and you bat at his hands. Then he’s sweeping your papers into piles, stacking your notebooks and gathering them up into his arms.

“That’s my intellectual property, you know,” you scold him, reaching for the papers. He holds them up above your head easily, and you groan. “Okay, okay, I’ll go, just- I lost my pen, earlier. It’s my favorite one. I just have find it and then I promise I’ll go- you can go home, really, I’ll see you-“

He’s reaching for your head, suddenly, and you freeze. When his hand returns to your view, he’d holding the pen between his fingertips. You blink once, twice, then reach for it, but he’s holding it above your head within seconds, too.

“We’re leaving,” he tells you, firmly. “Come on. Up we go.”

You get to your feet reluctantly and pack your things into your bag. Oscar helps, handing you your papers in neat little piles. He keeps you in front of him as you both exit the lobby, like he’s afraid you might take off running further into the office building. His car is still parked out front, still running, and you see him wince.

“Didn’t expect to be inside for so long,” he says sheepishly.

You laugh lightly, starting your walk towards the employee lot. It’s down a well lit path, but every step feels heavy this late at night.

“Wait,” he says, and you pause. “Do you want a ride? You seem tired. You know, sometimes that’s as bad as driving drunk.”

“I’m not gonna fall asleep behind the wheel,” you tell him. You say it with confidence, because it’s pretty likely you’re not going to fall asleep at all tonight.

He cocks his head at you, cast in the bright glow of the floodlights. “At least let me drive you to your car. Otherwise, how do I know you’re not going to just go back inside?”

You roll your eyes. “And how do I know you’re not trying to kidnap me?”

You end up getting in the car, because he makes it pretty clear he’s not leaving until you do. You contemplate just walking to your own car, but honestly your feet feel so heavy it’s just not worth the fight. Oscar, to his credit, doesn’t kidnap you. He also doesn’t comment on your very modest car, the only one left in the parking lot. He does try to offer you a ride home one more time, but he lets it go after your repeat refusal.

You say goodbye, climb into your own car, and start the engine. The heat kicks on quickly, thank god, and you start up a playlist. It’s only when you look up, ready to leave, that you notice his car is still sitting there. You can just barely see Oscar behind the windshield, and he waves at you. He’s waiting for you to leave.

You flip him off as you roll out of the parking lot, and you watch him laugh in response.

…..

You’re one of the first ones at the office the next morning, and therefore one of the first ones on a shuttle to the airport. Oscar’s chronically late, or as he would call it, chronically precisely on time, so you don’t see him until he’s climbing on the plane. McLaren’s rented out a charter plane for this trip, with the double header making it the easiest solution.

You’re already settled into a seat, laptop open on the table in front of you, headphones on. You barely even look up when you feel him looking over you, but then he’s tugging one side of your headphones off your ear.

“Did you even sleep?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“Yes,” you lie, raising your brows at him defensively.

Oscar raises his brows in return. He obviously doesn’t believe you.

Before he can say anything else, Lando’s behind him, leaning up over his shoulder. “Oscar, mate, get a move on.”

Oscar rolls his eyes but does as Lando’s urging. There’s not assigned seats, per say, but the two drivers are headed towards the middle of the plane where their trainers and other senior staff are sitting. That’s how these things normally go- it just makes sense. They’ll have meetings on the plane, talk about meal plans and strategies and get ready for the weekend. You’ll spend your flight going through the data just one more time, trying to unlock all of the secrets to give Oscar the best possible chance on Sunday.

…..

Singapore is good. Not great, not perfect, but good. For Lando’s team, it’s a huge weekend. And honestly, 4th place for Oscar in his rookie year is huge too. He’s thrilled, tells you as much after the race, after the briefing.

“I know you worked hard this weekend, put in a lot of hours,” he says. “Thank you.”

“Just doing my job,” you say with a shrug.

“Right.” He says. “Thanks, though.”

You smile up at him, knowing it’s wobbly and insincere. You don’t take compliments well. “No problem.”

When you get to the hotel that night, you lay down in the bed and try to fall asleep. It’s no use, really, because it’s not your bed, and because your mind is racing. There’s nothing even bothering you, that’s the stupid thing. Just… a billion thoughts flying by all at once. So you wander the hotel, up and down the stairs, down the halls. You make a pit stop in the exercise room, walk on the treadmill, try out the rowing machine. You’ve never been one for working out, but the internet says exercise can help with sleep issues. It’s worth a try, but it doesn’t work.

You contemplate sneaking into the closed hotel pool, but ultimately decide against it. You’d probably get caught, and then you’d get in trouble, and it would somehow make it back to your boss. Then you’d get fired in Singapore, left to find your own way home. So instead, you head for the vending machines on your floor. There’s got to be something in there that’ll cure the racing in your head. Or at least bring you some comfort in the dead of night.

What doesn’t bring you comfort in the dead of night is a face in the reflection on the glass of the vending machine. You nearly scream when you meet someone else’s eyes. You whirl around, arms in a defensive position, and come face to face with Oscar.

“Would’ve pegged you for flight, not fight,” he says drowsily.

“You can’t sneak up on people like that,” you hiss, dropping your hands to your sides.

“Payback,” he mutters, dragging a hand down his face clumsily. “B‘sides, I wasn’t trying to sneak up on you. I was trying to get a snack.”

You blink at him. “Oscar, it’s 3am.”

He nods, blinks slowly. You almost expect his eyes to stay closed, almost expect him to fall asleep standing up.

“I woke up starving,” he says, shuffling towards one of the vending machines. “Promise you won’t tell Kim? I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

He’s cute when he’s sleepy. You want to tuck him into bed and tell him bedtime stories. You want to kiss his forehead. You blink hard, trying to reset your brain. The sleep deprivation is really getting to you. This is your coworker, your teammate.

You shrug and nod in agreement. “Would’ve kept the secret without the bribe, but if you’re offering…”

Oscar laughs, a quiet sound in the empty night air. “What’ll it be, then?”

He’s leaning against the glass heavily. He must still be half asleep. You can’t blame him. You point at the bag of chips you’d been eyeing, and then at the gummy worms in the corner. He nods in approval of both, selects them, feeds the machine his money. Then he’s picking his own snack- a poptart and a bag of Cheetos. He backs away, but you make a noise and point at the drinks machine.

“And a Red Bull?” You ask, pointing at your favorite flavor where it sits, lit up by fluorescent light.

He turns back, almost puts the money in, and then he pauses and looks at you. “It’s 3am.”

“Right, we established that.”

“Why would you drink Red Bull at 3am?” He asks, bewildered.

You shrug. “Because I like Red Bull.”

“Go work for them, then,” he suggests. You laugh. “Actually, I have a feeling that would be severely detrimental to your health. Too many free energy drinks. Do you ever sleep?”

“Those are big words for 3am,” you tease, nudging his shoulder. “Come on. The tangerine one, please.”

“I’m not buying you a Red Bull.” He shakes his head. “I am walking you back to your room and you’re going to bed.”

“I’ll tell Kim about your snacks.”

“No, you won’t.”

You let him walk you back to your room. He stands there as you swipe the key card, as you open the door and shuffle inside. He says goodnight from the doorway. You close the door after you echo the sentiment, lock all the locks, and lay down in your bed. You close your eyes and try to go to sleep. You really, truly try. But when the clock turns over to 4am, and you realize it’s useless, you roll out of bed and head down to the vending machine. You buy the Redbull with your own money, carry it back to your room, turn on the tv, and settle in until the sun comes up.

…..

Tokyo may just be your favorite city in the entire world. Everything is open all the time. You’ve never felt more seen by a city. The days that you and the rest of the team spend there between the two races are heaven. You have meetings during the day, but they’re short and easy. At night, there are plenty of places for you to roam, plenty of things to do and see.

You spend your nights in ramen bars, in arcades, in toy stores that seem to stretch on for miles. You collect so many souvenirs you’re worried you’ll have to buy a second suitcase. Frankly, you’re going on week two of sleeping only in one to two hour stints, and it’s likely you’re beginning to get a little manic. In Tokyo, though, nobody bats an eye.

You join the team for breakfast in the hotel lobby on Thursday. You’ve somehow ended up at a table with Oscar and Lando- you’d gotten here before anyone else, and Oscar had chosen the seat across from you. Lando asks what you’ve been up to. They’ve been busy with promo stuff, you’ve hardly seen the two of them all week.

You regale them with your stories and hand off your phone to Lando so he can scroll through your pictures. Oscar listens with rapt attention, leaning to look at the photos too.

“How do you do all this and find time to sleep?” Lando asks, an amused tone in his voice.

“She doesn’t, mate,” Oscar replies, pointing at your phone. “Look at the time stamps.”

You roll your eyes and snatch the phone away from them. Lando’s looking at you with wide eyes, Oscar is smiling amusedly.

“Sleep is for the weak,” you tell them, and you swear Lando’s eyes are going to bug out of his head. “We’re in Tokyo, I’m making the most of it.”

To Oscar’s credit, he doesn’t bring up the encounter at the MTC, or the run in at the vending machines. Still, this revelation seems to bewilder Lando.

“Sleep is like, the most important thing,” he says, shaking his head. “For your health.”

“Not all of us have to be in tip top shape,” you say, stabbing your fork into a waffle on your plate. “Some of us get to have fun. Exhibit B. Our breakfasts.”

Lando looks at your plate, filled with waffles and bacon and your cup of coffee, next to it. He casts his glance to his sad looking bowl of oatmeal, then, and sighs heavily. Oscar’s laughing at the two of you, though his plate looks just as sad.

“When you pass out halfway through the day,” Lando says, a retaliatory furrow in his brow, “I’m telling Andrea why.”

“That won’t happen,” you reassure him. “And besides, it’s media day. I have it easy.”

…..

Oscar makes it on the podium on Sunday. You scream your lungs out with the rest of the team, run to the pit wall, watch the podium celebrations. He’s wrapping everyone in enthusiastic hugs, slapping everyone’s backs and grinning so, so widely. All the lost sleep feels worth it, just to see him smile like that.

When he makes it to you, he hauls you into his chest, arms around your shoulders, holding you tight. You could stay like that forever, if he’d let you. He tucks his chin atop your head and you think you’d like to make a home right there, in his arms.

The celebrations go late, and so does the debrief. By the time it’s all said and done, everyone looks exhausted, including the drivers. They start shuttling you all back to the hotel for the night, back in Tokyo so you can get on the plane easily tomorrow morning. You’re just glad to be back in the city. On a night like tonight, buzzing with adrenaline and caffeine, there’s no way you’re falling asleep.

You somehow end up in a shuttle with Oscar. He smells like champagne and sweat, and you tease him about it when he sits down in the back row next to you.

He smiled sheepishly. “So I smell like a podium finisher, then.”

You watch as the city goes by out the window and listen to him chat idly with the others in the van. When you get back, you’re the last one out of the car. He’s waiting outside the hotel, leaning on the wall.

“So, what’s your plan for the night?” He asks, cocking a brow.

“No judgement?” You ask.

“No judgement,” he promises.

You shrug. “Not exactly sure. There’s a lot to do. I’ll probably get some ramen, maybe go shopping. Might just take a walk.”

He nods. “Sleep?”

“Not high on the priority list,” you admit.

He nods again. “Can I come with?”

You blank, staring at him. “What?”

“On your adventure,” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can I come along?”

Suddenly your heart is pounding in your chest. He wants to come with? Why? There’s a part of you that doesn’t like the idea, that thinks your sleepless adventures are for you and you alone. The other part of you, the one that wins out, thinks it might not be so bad to have some companionship.

“… sure,” you agree, eyeing him carefully. “But you have to play along. No forcing me to go to sleep.”

“Promise,” he says, holding out his pinky.

You hook yours with his and seal the deal.

…..

You both head up to your hotel rooms to change clothes, and in Oscar’s case, to take a shower. He sends you a text when he’s ready and you meet him in the lobby. He’s in a casual outfit, jeans and a hoodie. You’re dressed similarly, in a pair of black jeans and a crewneck.

“Where to?” He asks, wide grin on his face.

It turns out that Oscar is the ideal late night adventure companion. You start your night out at a sushi conveyor restaurant, both of you joking about how Lando would never dare to eat there. You eat to your heart’s content and make comments about fueling up for the night ahead. He even joins you in having an energy drink, some Japanese brand that you’ve never heard of. Oscar reads part of the label to you, balks at the amount of caffeine in it, and drinks it anyways.

After the restaurant, the two of you climb into a cab and head to the Shibuya district. It’s crawling with people, buzzing with energy, and you feel right at home. Oscar sticks close to your side, hanging onto the back of your sweatshirt as you cross the busy crosswalks in a sea of people. When you turn, though, he’s smiling like he’s having the time of his life. The two of you climb the stairs to an observatory where you can watch the dance of pedestrians and traffic from above. There’s a glow to the city that feels akin to how your brain feels when you can’t sleep- like it never goes out, never turns off.

You tell this to Oscar, who gives you a contemplative look.

“Is it the energy drinks?” He asks. His hand is on your wrist, likely just to keep track of you in the crowds.

You shake your head. “The energy drinks came after the… not sleeping-“

“Insomnia,” he suggests.

“… not sleeping,” you repeat, narrowing your eyes at him. “Anyways. I was like a zombie. The energy drinks make it so I’m functional. I figure if I’m gonna be awake, may as well enjoy it.”

You head back out onto the streets and begin to wander again. Oscar follows along, always holding onto you in some way, always smiling when you look at him. The two of you wander through art galleries and museums lit up with neon lights. Somewhere in the middle of one of them, he slips his fingers between yours. You’re not complaining. There’s something grounding, leveling about his presence.

You stop for drinks at a bar- some sort of local beer that Oscar orders for both of you in Japanese. It’s followed by a vodka Red Bull, at your insistence. Oscar wrinkles his nose but drinks the whole thing, seemingly determined to match you.

Next door, there’s a highly American themed bowling alley. Oscar laughs about how Logan would love it and pulls you inside. It’s the first stop of the night that he’s suggested, so you go along eagerly. He’s snapping pictures, ones to send to Logan, ones for himself, ones of you smiling, renting out bowling shoes. He pays for the game, and you both do terribly. The worker puts the bumper guards up out of pity, because the two of you obviously have no idea what you’re doing. He’s a world renowned athlete, you’re a highly skilled engineer, and yet, you both suck at bowling.

“When did the in-“ you fix him with a glare, and he stops mid sentence. “When did the not sleeping start?”

You look up at the ceiling of the bowling alley and purse your lips, watching the disco ball spin. “Next question.”

He huffs and shrugs, rolling the ball down the lane. “I don’t have a next question.”

“What’s your family like?”’you ask him, and he smiles, softer than you’ve ever seen him smile before.

“Well, I have three sisters,” he starts, eyes lighting up.

Somewhere between the bowling alley, the next bar, and the shopping mall you end up in, you start to really get to know Oscar. It’s funny how the night opens people up. Everything feels safer in the dark, surrounded by other people. It’s creeping up on 1am- in theory, both of you should be sound asleep. The fact that you’re not makes anything okay. You learn about his family, his childhood, his friends back home and in the UK. You tell him about yourself, too. He listens with an eager look on his face, laughing at all the right moments, squeezing your hand at the right ones, too.

You end up in a store that’s packed to the brim with stuffed animals. He lets you drag him around the whole thing, pointing out cute ones and the ones you think are a bit odd. Then you gasp, pointing excitedly, pulling on his hand.

“It’s you,” you squeak, the delirium beginning to set in. It’s a stuffed Kangaroo, and he groans softly. “Look, you’re even making the same face.”

Oscar seems unable to argue with that. Both he and the stuffed kangaroo do seem to be scowling. He smiles instead, picks it up, and takes it to the register. He buys it before you can really even say anything, and the cashier packages it in a bag. The kangaroo’s head sticks out over the paper, your second faithful companion for the night.

By 3am, Oscar is starting to drag. He perks up every time you look at him and smiles brightly, but you can tell. His grip on your hand is looser lately, and his blinks are growing longer and longer. You turn to him, a sympathetic smile on your face.

“We can go back to the hotel, if you want,” you say, poking his cheek lightly.

He smiles. “Are you tired?”

You sigh. “No, but you are.”

“I’m okay,” he insists, shaking his head. “What about the batting cages you mentioned? That sounded fun.”

You pout at him. “Oscar, you’re half asleep. You’d definitely get hit by a ball.”

He nods in agreement. “Maybe I just need another energy drink?”

You cock your head at him, take in his heavy eyelids, his parted lips. “That would be your third one of the night. And that would be very unhealthy.”

He nods again. “Yeah. Okay. Just… I said I’d be along for the ride.”

“We can hang out at the hotel,” you suggest. “The pool area is open all night.”

“I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”

“Me neither.”

You somehow end up with a pizza on your way back, and the two of you plant yourselves in the pool area on one of the chaise lounge chairs, the pizza box in front of you. You eat the greasy, cheesy food, and even Oscar indulges in it. He has his hand planted on the chair behind your back. Every so often you lean backs against his arm just to feel his presence. His knee bumps against yours, and you smile.

The pool is clear and blue. Neither of you will be swimming, but this felt like a neutral enough place. You’d thought about inviting him back to your room but had felt weird about it. There’s something calming about the still water and the smell of the chlorine, anyways.

He leans his head on your shoulder. The heavy weight of him is nice. He’s solid, sturdy, grounding. You’re chatting idly about something that happened at the race, something he’d missed while he was driving the car. You break off in the middle of a sentence to yawn, and then you close your eyes for just a moment. Oscar’s breath hitches.

The two of you are silent for a moment. You stare into the clear water, aching to drift and float and fall asleep. You sigh and pull your knees up to your chest.

“It started when I was a kid,” you tell him. “I just… stopped sleeping. It comes and goes in cycles. Sometimes I’m fine, sometimes I just…”

“Can’t sleep,” Oscar finishes for you, his words contradicting the sleepy tone of his voice.

“Yeah,” you say, blinking slowly again.

Your head droops, resting against his. He’s so warm, so comforting. He must feel you drifting, must feel your grip faltering, because then he’s sitting up, tucking you into his chest.

“Is there anything I can do?” He asks, drowsily.

“M’so tired,” you admit, curling into him. “Justwannasleep.”

Tears are stinging at your eyes. You hadn’t expected this, hadn’t been prepared for this part. The moment when your lack of sleep catches up to you, and you become an emotional, distraught mess. You’re seconds away from full on sobbing.

Oscar seems to sense this. “Okay. Okay, how about- I have a pull out couch in my suite. Why don’t you- if you’re comfortable, you could come sleep there. Maybe it would help to know somebody’s there if you need it? Maybe-“

“Okay,” you answer, nodding against his chest. “Okay, yeah.”

He takes care of the empty pizza box and guides you up to his room. You know there’ll be questions to answer if anyone sees you, but you’re comforted by the fact that it’s 4am and nearly every sane person is sound asleep. He scans into the room, and you let out a sigh when he lets go of your hand. He moves quickly, unfolding the pull out couch, grabbing extra blankets from the cabinets. Before you know it, you’re sitting down on the bed, rubbing your eyes.

It’s strange, now that you’re here. You’re in Oscar’s hotel room. You’ve just spent the night wandering Tokyo with him. You’re exhausted, sleep deprived, still on the verge of tears. Everything feels hazy and blurry.

“I can… go, if you want,” he says, and you blink up at him through your blurry vision. “Or I can sit with you till you fall asleep.”

“That might take a while,” you tell him. “Like, you’re more likely to fall asleep. Even… when I finally get to this point, it takes a while.”

He shrugs. “We could put on a movie.”

That’s exactly what you do. He turns on the tv, spots Finding Nemo on the guide, and turns it on. He sinks down on the bed, leaning against the couch back. You crawl up next to him as he turns the volume low. At first, you just sit shoulder to shoulder. Then he reaches out, wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulls you into his side. You sigh against him. Cradled close, you let the exhausted tears flow. He can’t see you, probably, and even if he can, you can’t bring yourself to care. He leans down, brushes his lips against your forehead.

“M’right here,” he says, softly. “I’ve got you.”

You wake up at 8am with your head in his lap. His alarm is blaring from the side table, and you’re both springing apart. He fumbles for his phone, shutting the alarm off with the shaky hands of someone who’s just been woken up from not nearly enough sleep.

You, on the other hand, have gotten the most consecutive sleep of your last two weeks. You stretch, rubbing the blur from your eyes and blinking at him.

“Sorry,” you mumble.

“For what?” He asks, voice steady.

“For… I don’t know. Keeping you up so late? Falling asleep on you?” You shrug. “I… that was a lot, for me to put that all on you.”

Oscar shrugs, so nonchalant about it. “It’s what friends are for.”

You nod, though you’re not convinced. You pull away, and Oscar’s soft smile drops to a flat frown. He reaches for you, but you dodge his touch.

“I should go,” you tell him. “We have to leave soon, people are going to be getting up and- if they see me come out of your room-“

“We can be friends,” he says, again, brows furrowing. “We didn’t do anything wrong, everything is okay-“

He doesn’t understand. It’s fine for him, but this is too much for you. He wants to be friends, but you’re looking at him and thinking about how if you could curl up on his chest every night, you might never have trouble sleeping again. He wants friends, you want more. You can’t have more, though, because there’s no way you’ll keep your job. And he doesn’t want that, anyways. Why would he? You’re just his pity project, the poor girl who can’t sleep, who fails at counting sheep.

“I should go,” you repeat, standing up. You can’t look at him, can’t watch him watching you. “Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry.”

He stands up too, and he grabs your hand. You pause, stuck between ripping your hand from his and running, or whirling around and snapping at him. Fight or flight. Instead, you take a deep breath. You’re still sleep deprived, still exhausted. 4 hours doesn’t fix two weeks of little to no sleep.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, shoulders sagging. “I have a hard time letting people take care of me.”

“It’s okay,” Oscar says. “Just- come sit down? Let’s talk, okay?”

You sink down on the bed, rest your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. “Why do you care?”

Oscar sits down next to you. He reaches out, knits your fingers together. You’re reminded of the art galleries, of the crowds, of the bowling alley. You split yourself open last night, in the safety of the time when you should’ve been sleeping. He saw you and he’s still here, somehow, hanging on. Your bones are tired. Your head is pounding. You need caffeine.

“I care,” he says, gently, “because I care about you. Because I think you’re a good person, and I want to get to know you better. And because this whole thing is not healthy.”

You sigh. His thumb brushes over the back of your hand methodically, back and forth. The funny thing is, you could fall asleep again, just like this. You could lean into his shoulder, let the warmth of him seep into your skin, and fall asleep. You wonder if he knows it.

“I’m fine,” you tell him, rubbing at your face sleepily. “Osc, I’ve been like this for years. It’s not just going to change now.”

“Not overnight,” he says, softly. There’s a callous on his thumb, you can feel the scrape of it over your skin. It’s oddly soothing. “But I can try. I can be here.”

“Why would you want to?”

“Because despite all the craziness, last night was the most fun I’ve had in weeks,” he says, and you could cry. “I want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you. Take you on dates. The whole nine yards.”

You should’ve expected this. Oscar can be shy, and quiet, but he can be straightforward, too. He’s pretty easy to read. He’s blunt with Lando, almost to the point of contention sometimes. But you’d been so focused on trying to prove to him that you were just fine that you hadn’t considered he was feeling the sparks, too. That maybe he wasn’t holding onto you in the crowd just so he didn’t lose you. That maybe he liked the feeling of your skin on his, too.

“If you want that,” he says, voice low.

You blink blearily, pull away to look up at him. “I do.”

He nods, leans forward, kisses your forehead. The rest of it will come later, you think. You can work all the details out when you’re both more awake. Right now, he pulls you into his chest and flops back onto the bed.

“We have an hour before anyone comes looking for us,” he says, rubbing your back lightly. “Close your eyes? You don’t have to sleep, just-“

You blink once, twice, and then you’re fast asleep before he can get another word out.

…..

Oscar wins the sprint race in Qatar, and then takes second on Sunday. He’s nothing but endless wide grins all weekend, despite the heat and the dehydration and his obvious exhaustion. You laugh when you watch him lay down on the floor in the cool down room and smile when he gets sprayed with champagne on the podium. He chases you through the garage afterwards to give you a hug, despite your screeching about how sticky he is.

He tucks you into his chest. “Couldn’t have done it without you, baby.”

Later, you help corral a very tired Oscar and Lando to the shuttles and back to the hotel. They’re each stumbling over their own feet, giggling and laughing about the race, shoving at each other’s shoulders. For a minute, you’re walking through an empty parking lot, far from any other McLaren staff, and Oscar links his fingers with yours. They fit together like puzzle pieces. His fingers are sticky with champagne, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Lando sees and doesn’t say anything, just smiles.

You’re keeping it quiet for now. Time to figure it out between the two of you before you get your bosses involved. You have a feeling it’ll be mostly okay. You’ll figure it out, one way or another.

You follow Oscar up to his hotel room, saying goodnight to Lando as he heads further down the hall. He knits his fingers with yours again, leads you into his room, and collapses onto the bed.

“I’m exhausted,” he says, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you?”

You smile down at him, laid out on the bed. He should probably shower, at the very least change his clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to tell him that.

You sigh. “I mean, yeah, but if you’re asking if I’ll be able to sleep… probably not.”

He nods in understanding and purses his lips. “D’you think… would you just… stay, until I fall asleep?” He asks, blinking up at you. “After that you can take my card and get a Red Bull and go do whatever, just-“

“Yeah, I’ll stay,” you tell him.

It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done. He gets ready for bed, and you do the same. You lean against the headboard and he crawls up the bed. He puts his head on a pillow in your lap, curls up into a little c shape. He’s very cat like, you’ve noticed, especially when he’s sleepy. You run your fingers through his hair, the tv playing quietly in the background, and he sighs and closes his eyes.

“Goodnight,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

He’s out within minutes. Oscar is a sound sleeper. You could move him, could shift his head and get up. You could wander the halls, take his card and buy all the energy drinks you desire. But you look down at him, his brow unfurrowed, lips parted, and you can’t bring yourself to do it. You could sit here and watch him breathe all night. It’s a terrifying and comforting thought, all at once.

You don’t sleep. It’s likely you’ll crash on the flight home, or maybe shortly after that. With your luck, you’ll pass out in a meeting when you get back to the MTC. Oscar doesn’t scold you when he wakes up and it’s obvious you’ve been awake all night.

He gets you coffee from the breakfast bar, exactly how you like it. And when he finds you in the backseat of the airport shuttle, he hands you a tangerine Red Bull. It’s early, the sun just peeking up over the horizon, washing the whole city with orange. He’s smiling at you, and you’re smiling right back.

When you fall asleep on his shoulder on the way to the airport, nobody dares to say a word.

…..

“Did you hear we’re gonna be sponsored by Monster next year?” Lando asks, throwing a tennis ball at a wall in the courtyard.

You sit up in the grass nearby, eyes lighting up. “You’re kidding. Free Monster?”

Oscar, whose stomach you’d been laying on, sits up behind you and wraps his arm around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Your consumption will be restricted,” he says, and you laugh.

You suppose that’s fair. Besides, Monster is fine, but nothing will ever top tangerine Red Bull.

check out the companion blurb, Glad You’re Here

thanks for reading, hope you sleep better than me! you can find my other fics here! sweet dreams y’all

[jamminvroomvroom]

no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

-

whoops? lol

-

taglist

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(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)

[lightsoutletsgo]

pretty girl — op.81 (18+)

pairing: oscar piastri x plus-size!reader

word count: 5.1k

warnings: 18+ !! body insecurity, SMUT SMUT SMUT, ABSOLUTE UTTER FILTH; spanking, use of 'sir', creampie x 2 (don’t be silly, wrap ur willy !!), oscar eating you out after cumming inside you, squirting, light choking, Oscar has an obsession with calling you angel, wayyyyy too many pet names @jamminvroomvroom I'm not sorry in the slightest jas 🤭 enjoy! mwah ₊˚❀.ೃ࿔*:･

You weren’t sure how it had started. Maybe it was the pressure online. Maybe it was the ‘fans’. Maybe it was just your own damn mind, but something was eating away at you. It wasn’t Oscar though. Never Oscar. He loved you to no end, treated you like royalty, looked at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky and created the moon with your own hands. 

But sometimes even Oscar’s adoration and affection couldn’t stop the voices in your head from creeping in and planting the seeds of lies in your head; ‘he could do so much better’, ‘you’re not enough’, ‘you need to be better’, ‘you’re not worth his time’, ‘he’s with you out of sympathy’. 

You pulled up your t-shirt and stared at your underwear-clad body. You frowned and glared at your reflection in the mirror, before poking your stomach once again. You turned to the side and noticed how much bigger your thighs were than they had been a few months ago. Your eyes were drawn to the stretch marks that decorated your hips and upper legs, courtesy of your body growing too quickly to keep up with itself. You spotted every single speck of cellulite or mark that made your body look imperfect. 

You looked disgusting. 

At least that’s how you felt. 

You hadn’t always felt like this either. Once, there had been a time when you loved your body, your curves and all of your flaws. But dating a professional athlete, especially one as visually perfect as Oscar, meant you were prone to hate. It had started with a few small comments, that eventually grew into a whole flood of messages and abuse that just got too much. You had let it get to you.

You weren’t yourself anymore. Even you could see that. You didn’t smile as much anymore, and when you did, the smiles weren’t real. They were fake. You felt like you were living from one day to the next, not sure when you woke up the next morning whether you were thankful for that or not. You hardly left the house anymore. Your friends all seemed like the flawless poster girls and you were the odd one out. You’d even begun to push Oscar away from you, instead choosing to lock yourself away. 

Skipping meals had become a regular habit and it was no longer uncommon for you to spend up to twelve hours a week in the gym. It wasn’t just your weight and figure though. When you were out with Oscar you didn’t feel like you looked good enough to be able to stand next to him, let alone hold his hand and walk with him through the paddock in front of all those cameras. Today was day three of you being completely incommunicado with the outside world, and Oscar was worried about you. He had called you and texted you but there was no answer. He called your friends who all said that they too were worried and hadn’t had any answer from you. 

So there you stood in your underwear wearing one of the few of Oscar’s oversized t-shirts that fitted you, pulled up to your chin whilst you inspected and scrutinised your body. You hadn’t noticed the front door unlock, or heard the footsteps coming down the hallway. You heard your bedroom door open and you turned to see Oscar. He visibly exhaled as he saw that you were okay. But then he noticed. How red and puffy your eyes were from crying and how big the dark bags that lined your eyes were from lack of sleep. He slowly made his way across the room to stand in front of you.

You looked down at the floor unable to make eye contact. You felt embarrassed that he was seeing you in this state. You attempted to pull his t-shirt down to cover your thighs as you felt his gaze travel up and down your body. He grabbed your wrist, and brought it up to his lip as he kissed the inside of your wrist. He gently kissed up your arm and over your shoulder before kissing along your collarbones and up your neck. He stopped once he got to your lips and pulled back to look you in the eyes. His heart broke as he watched one single tear trickle down your face and then another and another until eventually your whole body was wracking with convulsive sobs. He pulled you into his chest tightly and held you close. 

Neither of you were sure how long you stood there for, but that didn’t matter. In that moment, all you needed was him, and he was more than happy to provide the comfort you needed. Once your crying had subsided he led you to the bed. You both led down, his arms wrapped around you as you led on his chest. “Y/N?” He said gently, rubbing his hand up and down your arm to help soothe you. “Yeah?” You said sniffling and snuggling into him more. “You know that I love you more than anything right?” He said, staring down at you and kissing the top of your head. You gave a weak scoff, “Yeah right…” Oscar squeezed you tight “I do!” You pulled away from him and sat up “Why?” “Because-“ He started, “Because I’ll tell you why you shouldn’t. I’m disgusting Oscar. I’m fat, I have stretch marks and my thighs are covered in cellulite. I don’t deserve you Osc can’t you see that? Your fans hate me and it’s making me hate myself!” You finished, slightly out of breath and you felt a new wave of tears fall from your eyes. Oscar sat up so you were sitting opposite each other. “Stop.” He commanded, “I don’t wanna hear anymore of that.” He spoke almost angrily; you looked up at him to meet his gaze. He looked like he was about to cry too, “You’re beautiful, angel, can’t you see that?” He said his voice cracking as he reached for your hands, “So what if you’re squishy? I love that about you.” You frowned; slightly confused that this was your boyfriend’s attempt to comfort you. 

“Angel, I will call you squishy and you will be mine, and you will be my squishy!” He said, quoting Finding Nemo as he squeezed your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout. You giggled at your boyfriend and he smiled, “I don’t care what my ‘fans’ say, they’re not in this relationship, it’s me and you. Your weight doesn’t matter to me. So what if you have larger hips? It just means there’s more of you to love. Plus…” he trailed off for a moment, hands moving down to squeeze your hips, “you aren’t gonna break if things get a little... rough.” He said winking at you. “Stretch marks and cellulite? Angel, you aren’t the only one who has them. Honestly you’re stunning baby.” His compliments made you look down but you smiled slightly, touched by his words.

“See, your smile is beautiful!” He said, gently lifting your chin back up to look at him. “Babe, I also know that you’ve been skipping meals, so how about we order some pizza and watch Finding Nemo?” he suggested, you nodded before leaning up to connect your lips in a sweet kiss.

“Oscar?” You said, as you broke apart, leaning your foreheads together. “Hmmm?” “Thank you.” You said sincerely before he pulled you onto his lap and began to kiss you again, his hands gently creeping underneath the hem of his t-shirt.

Oh well… The pizza could wait.

You sighed into his mouth as he gently bit your bottom lip, pulling away and tugging as his eyes darkened. “Need to see you angel… fuck please?” You nodded shyly, hands slowly dropping to the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing as Oscar’s hand comfortingly rubbed your thighs, tracing gentle circles with his thumbs. You hadn’t had sex in a while. Too terrified to let him see your body and too worried about your insecurities. The last time you’d slept together you’d asked to leave the lights off and keep your t-shirt on. Oscar had been confused and he had obliged then - but no more. He was determined to show you just how damn sexy he found you. 

Oscar noticed your hesitation. “Hold on angel” He pulled away from you slightly to pull his t-shirt over his head. “Look at my back.” He turned and sat facing away from you as your hands delicately traced over the slightly raised zigzag marks that stretched over his back and shoulders… They looked similar to the marks on your stomach and hips that haunted you. “Y-you have them too?” Your voice was quiet and timid as Oscar gave a soft smile, nodding his head, “I went through a pretty quick growth spurt when I was in school and then another one when I got into F2… I always hated looking at them too… until I realised that they were a part of my body and a part of my story of how I’d grown, become stronger, learned what my body could do and what I was capable of.” Your eyes filled with tears as he turned back to face you, “Do you love me any less now you’ve seen them?” 

You shook your head furiously, “Of course not!” “Then why do you hate them so much when you see them on yourself? Do you think I love you any less just because you have them?” Your eyes filled with tears once more as he slowly pushed you to lie down on the bed, crawling on top of you.“Because let me tell you angel… whenever I see them…” His hands dropped to the hem of your t-shirt, sliding it up to expose your hips and panties “They make me feel…” He leaned down to press kisses to the lines across your hips between each word,“ So” kiss “fucking’” kiss, “feral…” 

“Your cute tummy?” He paused to blow raspberries on your soft stomach making you squeal with laughter “adorable!” “Your thighs…” He moved back down slightly to bite at them, making your back arch and a soft moan tumble from your lips. “I think about having them wrapped around my head about 7 times a day… and fuck angel…” He slid his hands underneath your ass and squeezed, “This ass? Might just take the title of world’s best ass…” You giggled as you reach down to cup his face,

“Actually baby I’m pretty sure that title belongs to Bottas” He moved up your body and paused as he thought for a moment before nodding, “True…” He nodded jokingly before leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. He left hot open mouth kisses against your neck and collarbones, making you squirm and let out breathy moans. Distracted by how good he was making you feel, you didn’t realise his hands were moving your t-shirt up until he sat you up slightly to pull it over your head.

You fell back against the sheets wearing just your panties as Oscar knelt over you, you heard him inhale through his teeth as he drank in the sight of your soft, plush body in his bed, “Wanna take you so badly angel…” His hands were everywhere as he grabbed your hips, your thighs, your ass, your breasts. Like he couldn’t get enough of you. “Touch me please Osc” He stared down at you, smirking slightly, “Where do you want me to touch you angel?” Your face grew hot and your heart rate sped up. You knew what he wanted you to say. Even after this long it still flustered you. “Want you t-to touch m-my pussy… p-please.” He cooed at you as his hand stroked your cheek, “Good girl…” One hand dropped to your pussy as he pushed your panties to one side, a single finger trailing up your slit, collecting the arousal already dripping out of you, finger moving to his mouth in an effort to tease you - it worked.You whined and shook your hips impatiently as he chuckled lowly, “I’ve got you sweet girl…” His fingers moved back to your entrance, slowly pushing one in as more needy whines tumbled from your mouth, “Please Oscar, want it, need it!” He smiled down at you, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your mound, “Fuck you’re such a good girl, you know that right? My. good. girl.” He emphasised each word with a curl of his fingers to graze against your g-spot. “Oscar- Sir!” He growled at your use of that specific title and pushed another finger in, head falling back in a silent moan at how tight you feel around his fingers. “You’re so needy for me angel, hmmm?” He pouted in mock sympathy, “s’okay baby I’ll take care of you.” 

He leant over your torso, softly kissing your breasts and leaving pretty red and purple marks to decorate your chest along with your stretch marks, “So fucking pretty… should be in a museum or a gallery…” he mumbled as he admired his artwork, your arms moving to wrap around his neck, pulling him down until his forehead rested against yours. Your hips bucked up into his hand as he continued to thrust his fingers into your pussy, the palm of his hand grinding against your clit. He paused for a moment, growling at the way your panties got in the way “Oscar!” you exclaimed as he ripped them off of you, “I‘ll buy you some new ones angel, it’s fine…” He quickly pushed his fingers back into your tight hole as you felt a warm sensation growing in your lower stomach. 

“That feeling good pretty girl?” He crooned down at you almost condescendingly as his fingers sped up. Breathy moans and whiney pants were all that left your mouth as you could feel yourself climbing higher towards that peak, the coil in your stomach threatening to burst. “Such a good girl for me, so sweet angel” Oscar growled above you, “Fuck! Oscar-” you wailed out as he leant down to bite your neck, teeth nipping, sure to leave a mark. “You’re mine angel… my pretty girl…” Those words were the last push you needed as you felt your orgasm explode. Your eyes shut tightly as your legs tensed up, thighs closing and locking Oscar’s hand between them. He chuckled at your out-of-breath form and pressed soft kisses to your hairline as he calmed you down, gently praising you. “Such a good girl, you’re so beautiful angel, love you so much…” You smiled up at him, hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him down to meet your lips, hot and passionate. “Want you inside me Oscar please!” You mumbled against his lips, he pulled back, stripping his lower half of his sweats and underwear, “Course angel... “ Your head tilted to one side in confusion when you saw him lie down next to you on the bed. He patted his thighs, “Want you to ride me pretty girl, wanna see my gorgeous girl on top of me.” You faltered as you heard his words, “I don’t know Osc I-” “Y/N,” he sat up suddenly, the use of your name showing you he was serious, “I want you to do this… Not just for me but for you too. You’re perfect my love… I love you because of who you are as a person. Your insanely hot body is just a bonus…” He grabbed your hands, gently helping you straddle his thighs. “So… come and take what’s yours angel…”

You climbed on top of him, sliding your wet cunt up and down his shaft which was throbbing against his abdomen. Hot and hard, you could feel yourself salivating at the thought of him sliding into you and stretching your pussy. “Fuck, you’re so wet baby, you want my cock in your pretty little pussy?” You whined needily, hands falling to Oscar’s chest, nails digging in slightly as you grinded even faster, “H-help please…” you begged. Oscar gently shushed you, one hand reaching down to grasp his cock and push it into you, “There you go baby, take your time- that’s it.” His hands gently caressed up and down your plush sides, gripping the flesh and relishing in the way his fingers sank into your soft hips and thighs. “Look at you… you’re fuckin delicious…” His head fell back as you sank all the way down to the hilt, a desperate moan leaving your lips at the slight sting you felt. No matter how many times you took Oscar’s cock, the stretch was always delectable. “Fuck! Your pussy is so tight… you gonna milk my cock angel?” You nodded desperately, starting up a slow rhythm, your tits bouncing slightly as your ass slapped against his thighs.

Between the two of you, the room was filled with the most pornographic noises, moans, whines, skin-on-skin and the sounds of your wet cunt. Your eyes shut as your head fell back, speeding your pace up. “Look at you… you’re a goddess, baby…” Oscar couldn’t take his eyes away from your form, a light sheen of sweat covered your body as your breasts and thighs jiggled with each firm slam of your hips. Your eyes slowly fluttered shut as your lips parted, releasing the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. How could you ever think you were not beautiful? One of his hands snaked down from your hips and began to rub your clit with his thumb, making your walls spasm around him. He growled out a low moan. “Oscar… Sir!” You cried out, “gonna cum!” You nails raked down his chest as you felt his thick cock reach deep into you, tip touching your cervix. “Shit!” Oscar hissed as he felt your nails digging in, desperately grabbing onto him in an effort to keep yourself from floating away. He grabbed your hips, lifting you up and down slightly to help you keep moving on his cock. “You close? Hmmm?” You nodded, flopping down onto his chest as the burning in your thighs forced you to give out, “I’ll help you angel don’t worry,” Oscar soothed you as his hands wrapped around your back, planting his feet on the bed to begin thrusting up into you. “You feel so so good angel, such a sweet little cunt…”

You mewled in response as his hips pistoned into you. “Please, please, please, please please- oh fuck!” Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, so sudden it overtook your whole body, feeling it in every limb from your fingertips to your toes. “There you go, atta girl…” Oscar crooned as his thrusts became uneven, he spilled into you, cock throbbing as his cum filled your pussy. “Milk my cock that’s it…” he moaned as your quivering cunt continued to spasm around him. 

He planted kisses all over your face, making you giggle as his arms tightened around you. You led against his chest for a moment, head fuzzy from the intensity of your orgasm, before you realised you could quite possibly be squashing your boyfriend. You gasped and shot up to roll off of him but his arms stayed firmly locked around you, leaving you unable to move, “Oscar…” You struggled a little making him laugh, “Oh absolutely not sweetheart, you are staying right here, until I say so.” You continued wriggling much to his disdain and you whimpered as a sharp spank landed against your ass cheek “Oscar!” He raised an eyebrow as he looked up at you, “Then will you behave?” You looked away, face burying into his neck once more, “Just don’t wanna squash you…” Oscar sighed contentedly, “I love how it feels when you squash me though?” You scoffed and another spank hit your ass, slightly harder than the last. Your hips wiggled and squirmed and Oscar grunted at how sensitive he was, gripping your hips to still you once again.

“Easy there sweet girl…” His voice was right there in your ear and the closeness sent shivers down your spine, pussy clenching around him subconsciously. “Oh that’s it.” Oscar growled, sitting up with you still in his lap, “Wha– Oscar?!” “I’m not fucking joking around baby.” You looked at him, his eyes flashing with lust and you felt that fire ignite in your tummy again. Oh you were so fucked. He gripped your chin softly, lips hovering right above your own, “I’m gonna lie back down,” your eyes rolled back as you practically felt his words against your lips, “and you’re gonna sit on my face.” Your eyes shot open, “R-really?” His answer was placing his lips over yours, biting and sucking your bottom lip, his hands guiding your hips to grind in his lap as your hands gripped his shoulders, “Really.” He led back down and you whined as he slid himself out of you, his cum dripping down your thighs already, “Wait, but… you came insi–” “It’s my mess isn’t it? So I should clean it up.” You practically melted on the spot as he beckoned you towards him, “Now come here angel and take a seat… Every goddess needs a throne right?”

You giggled despite how serious he was being and crawled up his body until his face was right underneath your pussy. You knelt up, hands grabbing the headboard as Oscar traced gentle kisses over your thighs, hands grabbing your ass. You could feel his breath against your pussy lips and you clenched around nothing, another drop of his cum and your wetness dripping down to where his mouth was ready and waiting. He moaned at the taste of the two of you mixed together and decided enough was enough. Gripping your ass tighter he licked a long stripe from your entrance up to your clit, landing a quick little kiss against your sensitive bud for good measure.

You giggled out a moan at the feeling, but Oscar was frustrated, “Angel, I told you to sit on my face.” “I am!” Oscar rolled his eyes, “No you’re hovering… I told you to fucking sit–” His arms wrapped round your hips and pulled you down onto his face, moaning loudly as he was suddenly smothered by your cunt, causing a whimper to leave your mouth at the vibrations Oscar ate you out like a man starved, tongue fucking your pussy and nose rubbing against your clit as one of your hands flew to his hair, pulling and tugging as you couldn’t help the way your hips started grinding against his tongue, “Fuck. Yes angel…”, “that’s it”, “just like that”, Oscar gasped out between breaths as he drowned in your pussy. You looked down and gasped. He looked feral. His eyes rolling back as he licked and sucked every inch of your pussy he could get too. 

He pulled you up for a moment and you panicked slightly, were you hurting him? He must have seen your expression because he was quick to run his hands up and down your hips in a soothing manner, “I need you to use my face angel, grind on my tongue, fuck my face okay baby?” “What if I suffocate you?” Oscar groaned, “What a perfect fucking way to go…” He trailed off as you dropped your pussy back onto his waiting tongue, following his instructions and grinding your soaking cunt back and forth.

The noises Oscar was making were driving you crazy and each growl, moan and praise had you moving even more enthusiastically. A loud whine escaped you as his nose caught your sensitive clit at just the right angle.You could feel it building in your stomach, rising up from your toes all the way to the top of your head. “Fuck Osc, feels so fuckin good…” You mumbled out, barely able to form a sentence. A grunt from Oscar told you he was happy to hear that, “Yeah? Don’t stop angel.” “W-want more…” Your voice was breathy as he continued to push you towards the edge, “What d’you need?” “Your hands on my ass… Please?” You begged, “Already touchin’” “N-no please… harder… wanna see your handprint on my ass…” You squealed as a heavy swat fell against your ass, “Oh my god Oscar, fuck yes!” You cried out, “More! Harder! Make me fucking take it, I’ll be so good for you Osc I promise!” You babbled out as you felt the way he made your ass sting over and over and you couldn’t help the way you grabbed his hair tighter as you felt him fucking smile against your pussy, “I’m gonna cum… Oscar…” You warned him but that only seemed to invigorate him, the most obscene noises coming from your boyfriend between your legs, “Fucking soak me baby come on… please fuck…” Oscar was practically begging into your pussy as your hips stuttered, head falling back as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Oscar groaned as your pussy leaked your orgasm into his mouth, leaving gentle licks and soft kisses over your clit to help you ride out your high.

You slumped to the side, not wanting to actually suffocate your boyfriend and your eyes widened when you saw how hard he was, his cock pink and pretty and throbbing. Oscar was unashamed as he brought one hand down to stroke himself, neck straining. “Can’t help it angel, it’s just what you do to me…” You watched, transfixed, as your boyfriend slowly and leisurely fucked his hand. You felt yourself salivate and you leaned forward, gently blowing cool air across the tip. You watched as it throbbed and leaked more precum. Oscar watched you through half-lidded eyes as you made yourself comfortable between his legs. “Having fun there angel?” You nodded, looking up at him and looking into his eyes, “Just wanna return the favour…” You pressed a kiss to the tip and giggled at the way he shivered and goosebumps ran along his thighs, “Behave angel…” You nodded, tongue peeking out from your mouth to kitten lick the tip. Oscar groaned one hand gently smoothed your head, “so fuckin’ good to me… but this is about you…” He sat up and gently cupped your face with his hand, “I love you, so much.” He said the words with so much conviction you felt your eyes get glassy, “I love you too…” His lips met yours more softly, more intimately than they had before. You felt his thumb gently trace over your cheek as you tasted yourself and him on his tongue. That thought drove you crazy and you found yourself pulling him closer to you as your other hand grabbed the back of his head and gently pulled the hair there. He moaned, a beautiful sound and his open mouth allowed you to slip your tongue inside, sucking and licking gently on his.

You pulled apart and noticed how your lips were still connected by the spit dripping from both of your mouths. God sex with him was always so hot. It seemed he still wasn’t done with you though as he indicated for you to turn around. You did so and caught sight of your body in the mirror. You gasped at how fucked out you looked. Oscar smirked as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. One hand sliding round your plush tummy and the other sliding up to gently hold your neck. He kissed your neck, “Look at you angel… my pretty girl, all fucking mine.” You leaned back against him and he smiled, “So now you’re gonna watch me remind you that you’re mine. You’re gonna watch how well you take me, how your body was made for mine, how pretty you look when I make you cum." He gently pushed you forward until you were on all fours.

You felt him line himself up with your pussy behind you and you felt like the air was knocked out of you as he thrust in in one smooth motion. He felt so much bigger, thicker, deeper at this angle. The look on his face told you he was feeling how much tighter this angle was too. His hands used your hips as leverage as he languidly thrust in and out of you. You hummed happily as you felt a sharp sting across your asscheek in the shape of his handprint. That reaction spurred Oscar on and your moans got louder as his thrusts got harder, pounding into you, his hips slamming into your ass with a satisfying slap. 

Your head dropped to the comforter at the way his cock dragged against your walls, setting your nerves alight. He leaned forward over the top of you and grabbed your throat once more, “Oh nuh uh angel… look,” His eyes met yours through the mirror, “you don’t get to look away… just watch how pretty you look while I fuck you…” You couldn’t help the way your eyes closed, the feeling too good to deny, Oscar tutted loudly and stopped moving his hips in and out, instead circling them while he was deep inside you. You couldn’t make any noise, just let your mouth hang open. You shuddered and whined, desperately humping back onto his cock. “Oh fuck me angel…” Oscar’s hand quickly found your clit and you whimpered loudly, “I’m not gonna last much longer!” “Me either angel, it’s okay…” Your eyes shot open as you suddenly felt a familiar sensation between your legs, “Oscar…” you warned him, his head dropped to your shoulder as his hips began rolling into yours again, “I know angel, I feel it, it’s okay… make a pretty mess for me.” His head looked back up to make eye contact with you once more, “Cum for me angel.” He whispered and it was like a trigger had been pulled.

With a loud cry, your whole body shook. White-hot pleasure spilling over, toes curling and walls clenching tightly as you soaked your boyfriend’s cock and his hand, squirting all over the sheets below,  “Fuckkkk angel yes yes yes just like that!” You felt his thrusts speed up as he pushed himself to another orgasm. His cock throbbed so hard inside you that you felt it and you hummed contentedly, filled up with Oscar’s cum once more. “Holy shit baby…” Oscar planted kisses down your back as he moved to pull out of you. You shuddered at the feeling of his cock pulling out.Oscar flopped onto his back and opened his arms, a silent invitation to cuddle, “I love you.” A soft kiss landed against your forehead, “I love you.” A kiss to his chest, “You’re so beautiful Y/N, I mean it. My pretty girl.” He squeezed you tighter in his arms and you giggled.  “So,” he sighed contentedly, “how about that pizza?” 

[pablitosgf]

what?! — op81

pairings ! — oscar piastri x fem!reader

warnings ! — misspelling, photo containing alcohol, and cursing.

info ! — in which the internet breaks into storm finding out oscar has a lover…

authors note ! — yes, i made y/n filipinaaaa!!! as i am filipina too. ive noticed most of my fc's r white girls so imma change it up a bit! this will probs have 2 other parts bc i have this all planned out 🤫🤫

format ! — smau

pt 2 pt 3

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, and

35,842 others

oscarpiastri its good to be back! 😁

view all 578 comments

user1 OSCAR PLS WHO IS Y/N??????

user2 crying, screaming, throwing up knowing that oscar has a gf 💔

user3 its been 1 day, 5 hours, and 43 seconds since i found out oscar is dating someone 😪😪

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, yourbsf, charlesleclerc, and 964,377 others

oscarpiastri my love, my woman, my everything, happy birthday ❤️

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yourusername i love you too much

↳ no, i love you too much

landonorris stop this you stupid bitches

yourusername landonorris shut up u fat pig

lilymhe alexalbon wheres my post?

alexalbon babe, it's not even your birthday 🙄

lilymhe alex, you should know this by now. everyday is my bday 🖕🏼

yourusername dont worry lily, i'll make a bday post for u 🫶🏼

lilymhe ilysm ty

alexalbon yourusername stop stealing my girlfriend 😡🤬

yourusername alexalbon never <3

alexalbon oscarpiastri you seeing this?

↳ yep… 😢

user1 she's so prettyness omg wtf 😭

user2 wtf she's so ugly LMAO 🤢🤢

[delulujuls]

thick thighs save lives (but ruin racing suits) | ln4, op81

hi! i got this idea from one tiktok i saw today. this one goes for my plus size girlies (including myself lmao) so please enjoy as much as papaya boys would enjoy some pair of thick thighs!

summary: lando and oscar never seen their friend with something tight on, so when it comes to try on new racing suits she have a big surprise for them

warnings: slightly disturbed perception of body image

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!mclarendriver x lando norris

Y/N sometimes forgot that she was a girl.

At the beginning of her career she tried to make an effort to look good, showing that a male-dominated sport wouldn't take away her feminine grace. Years ago she used to wake up early, style her hair, do makeup and spend a lot of money on fixing cosmetics but unfortunately everything was lost due to sweat, a balaclava and a tight helmet. So the girl decided that this fight made absolutely no sense - she decided to stuck only to lip balm and mascara.

Despite keeping her makeup to a minimum, even her mascara remained treacherous, smearing under her eyes after each race or training session, making her look like a panda. In terms of clothes, the girl didn't have much opportunity to show off either. Her clothes were largely either team tracksuits, a racing suit, or just a baggy orange T-shirt and jeans.

And just as Oscar and Lando looked great after the race despite sweat and messy hair, her post-race glow didn't really existed. On the contrary, she looked as if she had a hard, sleepless night.

It is known that when media days fell on the calendar, the girl tried to look her best. She had light make-up and nicely styled hair, but her body was still covered by loose layers of clothes. It would seem that apart from her physiotherapist and the team doctor, no one around her had any idea what kind of figure the girl really had.

However, everything changed when the break between seasons came. When places had numerous galas and events and you could throw away uncomfortable helmets and team clothes. However, as we know, everything comes to an end at some point and we have to return to the gray reality. This was the case, when the day came and it was time to try on new racing suits for the upcoming season.

Y/N hugged Lando and Oscar upon seeing them outside the entrance to McLaren's headquarters. The trio hadn't had the opportunity to see each other for several weeks, so there was a lot of joy. In a good mood, surrounded by conversation, they went inside and immediately went to the designated place. After a short presentation of costumes, everyone received theirs and went to change, only to come back after a while and report any reservations regarding comfort and range of movement. Y/N took her suit without thinking and went to change. She was surprised when the suit got stuck on her butt and refused to go up any higher.

"What the hell"

The girl muttered under her breath, gripping her fit tighter and jumping in it several times. When it finally slid over her ass, Y/N slipped her hands into the sleeves and zipped up the zipper, sealing the Velcro around her neck. Something was definitely wrong. The girl looked in the mirror at her reflection. The outfit was great and looked amazing, the only problem was that it was a bit tight. Which shouldn't be the case, because the outfits were based on last season's, so the dimensions shouldn't differ drastically. It was impossible to gain so much weight in three months, right?

The girl turned around, looking at the back of her body. The outfit was definitely tight. Just as it was still relatively tight on her chest, it was very tight on her thighs and butt.

Y/N covered her mouth with her hand, looking at her reflection. Have she really always had such big thighs? Did she actually gain weight during the past break?

She was brought out of her thoughts by a knock on the bathroom and the voices of Lando and Oscar outside the door.

"Are you ready?"

The girl felt her cheeks burning with shame.

"I think I have a problem"

Hearing this, the friends fell silent and looked at each other.

"Can we come in?"

Y/N agreed quietly, still staring at herself in the mirror. With each passing second, she became more and more confused about her reflection.

Oscar and Lando entered the bathroom, also wearing their suits. When they noticed their friend standing with her back to them, the first thing they noticed was her butt. Lando quickly looked up at the ceiling and Oscar walked over to the girl, trying his hardest to focus on the reflection of her face in the mirror.

"What happened?"

Y/N bit her lip in shame and silently turned towards them. Her friends involuntarily looked at her, pretending they didn't know what she meant. But as soon as they saw the material tight around her ass from the entrance to the bathroom, they knew exactly what the matter was about.

"My suit is too tight" The girl said quietly, looking at herself "It doesn't fit at all"

Lando wrapped his arms around himself and covered his mouth with his hand. He tried his hardest not to speak, because all he could think about were comments about her thighs and whether she could crush him with them. It didn't get much easier for Oscar. He put his hands on his hips and looked at his friend silently. He was afraid that he would be unable to comfort her in any way, because his mind was completely blank.

Piastri cleared his throat after a while, trying to return from the land of fantasy and behave as if the whole situation was really dramatic.

"Is it very tight?"

"Oh, just look!"

The girl spread her arms and spun around. Lando bit his lip and tilted his head back. Oscar held his breath, having no idea what to say. He was totally mesmerized by her curves.

"I- Uhm, I think it's just a mistake and they'll make you a different one without any problem."

"Different one?" Y/N asked, feeling tears in her eyes. “What if it's not a mistake and I've gained weight these past few months?”

"After all, the tests showed that everything was fine with your measurements."

Oscar said calmly.

Y/N turned to the mirror again and looked at her reflection.

"What a total shit"

"Hey, don't say that" Lando was immediately outraged "You look great"

"Great?" The girl snorted, "Come on, I look ridiculous."

"To be honest, I agree with Lando one hundred percent."

Oscar replied, looking once more at the back of the girl's body.

"My thighs are a disaster! What kind of racing driver has such big thighs?"

The girl burst out, turning again towards them.

"Max has nice thighs," Lando pointed out, thinking for a moment, "I'm sure his thighs are the national pride of the Netherlands."

Y/N wasn't in the mood to joke. Devastated, she looked down her body.

Oscar walked up to her and hugged her without saying a word.

"You look beautiful. And you have a really amazing figure"

Lando walked over to his friends and hugged them as well.

The girl felt a little better with the support of her friends. However, for a moment she forgot that men would be men and nothing would ever dissuade them from having dirty thoughts.

"I agree with Oscar, because you really look great," Lando started. Oscar looked at him, knowing full well what was coming and knowing that he wouldn't be able to stop it. "But with all the respect I have for you as a friend and as a woman in general, holy shit, I would pay extra for you to strangle me with your thighs. And man, that mad bunda, too."

Y/N didn't know what to say for a moment. She only felt a blush creeping onto her cheeks. Did she just receive the strangest compliment of her life?

She freed herself a little from her friends' embrace and looked at Lando's face.

"Seriously?"

He seeing that his comment was not received negatively, quickly nodded.

"You have such a body that-" "Lando meant that you shouldn't worry about what you look like because you look really great."

Oscar interjected, knowing full well that Lando's comments should be kept to himself.

The girl smiled weakly and sniffled. Her friends' words lifted her spirits a bit.

"My only concern now is how I will get this contraption off of me."

Lando and Oscar smirked, involuntarily exchanging glances.

"I think we can help you with that."