Oscar saying”touch grass and find someone that will fuck you cause it sure as hell won’t be me” and also “in Vegas everyone of you that was rude WILL be going up to my sweet lovely beautiful smart girlfriend and you WILL be apologizing.”
Can you imagine if he ever finds out about the one that burned her with coffee? Oooff she’s done for
𝐮𝐩𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐨𝐩.𝟖𝟏
𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 1.2k words
𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!black!reader
𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: blurb. part two to a prev. fic.
✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆゜omggg i wish i got to this lil addition sooner !!! i was sitting here like lowkey like, how out of pocket would oscar be after he learned that a delusional fan intentionally burned his girl??? but here’s how i think it would exactly go down! this starts pretty much directly after best i ever had ends, like post-bath sex and everything. ✧*̣̩⋆̩☽⋆゜
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your skin is warm, your muscles relaxed, and your legs feel unstable. the phantom weight of oscar resides between your legs from minutes past when he helped you ride him to an orgasm in the bath. to think that if you managed to convince him to break up with you, you’d never have the best sex of your life again.
you’re sitting on the countertop next to the sink, towel slipping down around your waist as oscar massages lotion into your brown skin, when you tell him that exact thought. he’s standing between your legs (his towel securely tucked around his tiny ass waist), wet hair curled on his forehead and he hums in dissent,
“there wasn’t a single time this past month where i even thought about breaking up with you.”
your breath catches at his words and there’s not an ounce of a lie in his tone. after the pampering events of tonight, you didn’t think you needed anymore reassurance that he’s not going anywhere but it’s incredibly nice to hear it. you pause trying to think of the word to express just how sweet oscar is, but he speaks before you.
“woah, wait a minute,” oscar’s brow is furrowed, gaze focused on the back of your left hand, where there’s a slightly inflamed patch of skin, “babe, did you burn yourself? when did this happen?”
he gently brushes his thumb over the spot to gauge how sore the spot is and frowns when you wince and slip your hand out of his grasp. you cradle your hand to your chest and shrug dismissively, “happened earlier t’day at the shop; some girl dumped her coffee on me.”
“what?” oscar stares at you, puzzled, “she purposefully dropped hot coffee on your hand?”
“mmm, well i can’t say that she did it ‘on purpose,’” you sigh, “but, she was wearing an oscar piastri mclaren hoodie and she did laugh about it with her friends afterwards.”
“you’re being serious? a fan dumped a literally burning hot cup of coffee on you,” oscar attempted to clarify, like he can’t believe it.
you miss how his expression is growing stormier and keep rambling on about your experience, “oh, i’m dead serious ‘roo. most of your fangirls have decided that i’m the spawn of satan because i can’t physically be by your side at all of your races. i mean–do they really think i would rather be learning about thermodynamics when i could be on the pitwall?”
“you know, at the end of the day i’m surprised at the fact that she had the balls to do it,” you continue (the aussie looks less impressed the more you keep talking), “highkey, i was getting sick and tired of all the girls who would come up and tell me i made their order wrong–when i most definitely did not!--and i had to remake their drink. so, props to her for changing it up on me, i was not expecting that.”
oscar rubs at his forehead for a few seconds before he purses his lips and cocks his head at the side to look at you, and then it dawns on you…maybe he doesn’t find this as amusing as you did.
“kanga, baby–she burned you. she intentionally harmed you, you could sue her, i think. you should sue her! i, personally, want to ruin her life,” oscar states, dead serious.
you shrug, “it’s not that serious to me. i’ll just put some ointment on it and it’ll be gone in a few weeks. and, she can be as jealous as she wants—you’re still here in between my legs, rubbing lotion into my skin after you just fucked me until my legs were jello. i really could not give a fuck about her, trust that.”
oscar grumbles unhappily, “well, i give a fuck. nobody should think that they can get away with hurting you, regardless of how serious the injury is. where’s the ointment?”
you lean forward, pressing kisses to oscar’s pout, “‘s in the medicine cabinet, ‘roo. if you want to address it, i won’t stop you, you can handle it how you like. as long as it doesn’t get you in trouble with the pr team, i’m fine with it.”
and that’s when you find out just how fine mclaren is with having oscar publicly call his fans crazy.
it’s race weekend in las vegas, and fp2 has been delayed. you were falling asleep on your feet in the garage, so oscar had tucked you into bed in his motorhome, letting you take a nap while he went to do some interviews.
he’s caught by ted kravitz from sky sports and the best opportunity that oscar has ever had falls directly into his lap.
“oscar! how are you feeling, mate?” ted starts, “you certainly had an interesting break leading up to this race, and, you’ve managed to take the world of formula one on another spin with your tweet defending your girlfriend—would you care to expand on that?”
oscar smiles, “i would love to talk about it actually.”
“oh,” ted looks baffled, looking at the camera in shock, before he gestures for oscar to speak.
“well. i stand by what i said,” oscar states, “if anybody thought i was being rude, i really don’t care. what i do find rude, however, is the fact that my girlfriend was being harassed at her job by people who call themselves my fans.”
“oh, mate, i thought you were being rather nice about the situation,” ted offers, “but, you’re saying fans have gone to lengths to ‘harass’ your lovely girlfriend in person?”
“unfortunately, i’m telling the truth. it got to a point where a fan was bold enough to burn her with boiling hot coffee.”
“no!” ted gasps, aghast.
“yes! as soon as she told me, i told her that she should press charges, but she didn’t want to. i guess she’s a lot nicer than me,” oscar scratches at his jaw.
“well, i’m pretty sure that’s at least an assault or injury claim right? i think that fan should be taught a lesson. it’s wild to think that someone who calls themselves a ‘fan’ would hurt one of the best WAG’s,” ted looks disgusted.
“yeah, well–i hope that woman knows the whole interaction was caught on camera and that my girlfriend is well within her rights to press charges. it would suck that an act you committed out of jealousy and envy has the chance to give you a lifelong criminal record, huh?” oscar’s eyes shine with a threatening twinkle, “i can’t imagine being so obsessed with a man you never had and never will have, and you proceed to take it out on his beautiful, intelligent, ambitious, loving, and extremely supportive girlfriend. it kind of seems…” he pauses for effect, searching for just the right word, “...desperate—doesn’t it, ted?”
“it seems absolutely demented, oscar.”
the clip hits three million views in four hours and trends for weeks.
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