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groguspicklejar · 5 months

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I love your mafia!141. Its so interesting and realistic at the same time, its just wonderful. But what if... someone tried to frame the reader and succeed. The reader was just at the right places at the right time and some uses it against them and with the tention between the reader and mafia!141, it was so easy to belive they betrayed them. So they interrogate the reader and hurt them to get answers that dont exist. And by the time they realize what they did, it's too late. They go looking for they were they last left ( unceremoniously dumped) them and find nothing. The reader gone in the wind as if they never existed. The reader however was surprisingly help by someone passing by that just happens to be an agent of some sort and gets put under witness protection. Now its been six /seven years later, the boys think the reader is dead and the reader is living a life somewere new with her twins ( heteropaternal superfecundation), a pale skined,blue eyed and brown haired boy and a chocolate skined, hazel-eyed and curly haired girl. And one day the boys have to do business in a different city and see the reader somewhere with the twins. The guys are shocked to say the least and think they mite have seen a ghost, till they see them again one morning as the reader is taking the twins to school. And thus they realize they have kids with a woman they thought they killed... And so i leave the rest to you if you do deside to use any of this.

your mind is so wrinkly but i kinda hate you for putting this in my head because this trope is my weakness👽 I've only seen one reference of heteropaternal superfecundation in mainstream media, which was from s1 of American Horror story and it's a nice touch to bring the idea here👌🏽 not going into the canon timeline of mafia!141 but i'm leaving this here for all to see because it's just too good to leave rotting in my inbox🫠🫠🫠 warnings: dark themes, stalking, mentions of torture, elements of ptsd, unconventional parenting schedule/custody arrangements, a looot of guilt.

it's unclear whether they're devastated, relieved or just in pure shock upon seeing you after all these years. and with two boys too, aged eight now.

eight years. eight fucking years since they last saw you. that can't be a coincidence.

they kept a close eye on you, so they don't lose you again. kept your movements tracked, learned where you live, where you work, where your kids go to school, who you and your kids hang out with, the whole nine yards and more.

they don't approach you for a good while, at least a few months. too afraid that they might spook you. too afraid that you might take off and leave without a trace. this time with your children— their children.

but eventually, due to your past trauma, you catch on to the fact that you're being followed. that unnerving itch at the back of your head, a quiet whisper telling you that you're being watched. it nags at you, makes you fearful that you're in danger, that your boys are in danger.

so you quietly pack up all the necessities you need to get out in case things turn sideways fast. and your sons have already made aware that they're going on a trip, but they're smart, as kids are. they notice that something's wrong and it's making their mom worried.

but the second you try to run, they're already at your doorstep because, again, they've been watching you closely.

you're not surprised when you opened the door to find Price standing there.

"can i come in?"

if he's here, then no doubt the others are too. watching. waiting for you to make the wrong move. you have no doubt that the house is surrounded. that even if, by some miracle, you get through Price, either Soap or Ghost will be waiting for you and Gaz is somewhere on higher ground, watching through the scope of a rifle.

no way out. just like last time.

you don't look away from Price as you call out, "boys, go to your room."

their footsteps quickly patter down the hall and you hear the door close. you step back to let Price in and close the door behind him. you don't offer him a drink, don't offer him a seat. nothing. he deserves nothing from you.

"beautiful home." he muses, glancing around the cosy interior of your house. he turns to look at you with a wry smile. "beautiful children."

you can't think of anything worse than him getting his hands on your sons. what they put you through was bad enough. in fact, it should've killed you.

you would rather go through all of it again than let them harm a single hair on your children's heads.

"keep them out of this." you spoke too sharply. the words cut through the air.

you think maybe it's not such a good idea to speak like that to someone who holds your life in the palm of his hands.

"please..." it's a whisper this time, a plea. "please keep them out of this."

something crumples in his eyes. a flash of heartbreak, of a devastation that will take an eternity to heal. but it's fleeting. gone as quickly as the wind. what's left is something somber.

"i just want to talk." he finally says.

the boys stick close to you. naturally, they feed off of your energy. they watch you closely, see how you react to things and follow your lead. rightfully so; after all, mother knows best.

you hardly go anywhere far when 141 is around them. always ready to step in if you feel that your sons need you. always beckoning them when you can't see them for more than a few minutes.

Gaz and Soap might be fathers to each boy, but that doesn't change how unsafe you feel around them.

the fact weighs heavily on all four of them.

Price and his boys don't uproot you and your children. not this time. they learned the hard way that doing so will only make you more fearful and by extension, making the boys less trusting of them.

instead, it's better to work around your already established life and schedule. even if it means moving 141 headquarters to an entirely new city, they'll do it. they'll do whatever you want, as long as you keep them involved in your and your sons' lives.

Ghost and Price are good to your kids. Price adores listening to them talk about school and Ghost sort of treats them like mini-adults because he feels sort of out of his element when it comes to children.

but they can't help but think that you're only allowing Soap and Gaz supervised visitations to keep some semblance of peace. because deep down, they know you feel as though you don't have a choice, that things will be worse if you don't give them something to work with.

deep down, they know that if you had the power, your sons would be kept as far away from their fathers as possible. and not out of spite, it's out of fear. you're terribly afraid that they'll hurt your children.

yet, that's not even the worst part.

slowly, with time, the boys become a little more open towards their dads and their uncles. they smile more, they're more playful, more talkative. but you remain steadfast in your cold demeanour.

if the boys need new clothes, you remain afar while Soap and Gaz take their pick from the clothing aisles and do their shopping. you hardly say a word during the process. you treat it more as a tedious task, rather than a bonding ritual. and you don't accept any gifts from Soap and Gaz either.

any stray dresses or accessories that don't look like they're for kids that wind up in the shopping basket are promptly taken out and put back where they were found when your sons aren't looking. you either claimed that you didn't like them or don't have anywhere you'd like to wear them to.

which, technically, isn't a lie. you hardly have any friends. you just don't trust people nowadays.

you keep yourself seperate from them, aside from the supervised visits. you don't allow for them to get close too you because you don't want to have to go through the same heartbreak before if someone betrays them and thinks you did it again.

and they hate themselves for it. it's not your fault you're so aloof with them. not allowing them to touch you, to hold you, even for just a few seconds. refusing dates, refusing gifts, not using their cards for your own stuff like treating yourself with a spa day or a shopping spree.

the only notifications that come onto their phones are food and stuff you bought for the boys. that's it. nothing else. and it hurts because they adore spoiling you rotten and you won't let them like before.

it's their own personal hell. being so close, yet so far from you. held at arm's length as if they were mere strangers.

banners by @cafekitsune mafia!141 masterlist offer a note in the picklejar

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neil-gaiman · 11 months

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Hey Neil :)

This is a rather stupid question I‘m afraid but why was the release time for GO2 set at such an impossible time for all the brits and other European people? I mean it’s a British show and yet so much is happening in advantage for American people. This is no hate, I mean it’s your/amazons decision, I‘m just curious!! :D

Amazon is based in Seattle, which is on Pacific Time, so they tend to release things based on Pacific Time.

This means the show will show up in the UK and Europe at about 8 or 9 in the morning. It means the episodes will show up in Australia at 5 in the afternoon, and New Zealand at 7pm, perfect for an evening binge.

Having said that, it will be released, in all probability, at Midnight Pacific time. Which is 1 am Mountain time, 2 am Central time and 3 am for those on the East Coast. I'm not sure how this is an "advantage for American People".

It's definitely an advantage for the New Zealanders, though.

#yay kiwis #Aotearoa

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httpsserene · 6 months

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hey can I request something that’s angsty to fluff and then smut for Oscar where reader gets a ton of hate for dating Oscar so she kind of ghosts him for a bit and they figure things out

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐰/𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: oscar really just wants to hear you laugh again. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. angst. fluff. happy ending. reader is exhausted physically and mentally. reader's internal monologue is not not nice. bad eating habits. bad sleeping habit. self-deprecation. don't worry she's back on her bs at the end. reader neglects herself (?) and her relationship. implied self-sabotage. people are mean. don't worry oscar is meaner. oscar piastri is a good boyfriend. emotional hurt/comfort. tenderness. intimacy. baths and pampering. crying (non-sexy). implied sex. implied bath sex. logan and lando as plot devices. no beta we die like my will to live during finals. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 5.1k words. 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: oscar piastri x fem!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot w/ blurbs. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: best i ever had • drake

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: sorry it took me so long, i've changed this fic like multiple times :/ hope it fulfills you request properly :))) this is not my favorite thing in the world, i feel like if i went on a smaller scale i would've enjoyed this more but what can you do. this is also not very black reader coded? idk but feel like it's lacking there. i also apologize for my inability to write an oscar fic without including lando, he's such a willing plot device though even if he's a little ooc. i also couldn't find the mental space to write smut but there's smth for you at the end. dedicated to us women in stem! i hope you have fun reading this because i didn't have fun writing it :)

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oscar is worried. you haven’t responded to his texts for a week, he hasn’t seen your face for two weeks, and he hasn’t heard your voice for three weeks. four weeks ago, you told him you wouldn’t be able to fly out to see him at the austin grand prix, like you promised. you sounded exhausted and incredibly guilty when you explained that your course load this semester is extreme, and finals are rapidly approaching. oscar understood; he won’t ask you to sacrifice your education for one of his races, there will be plenty you can come to in the future. what he doesn’t understand is how you’re still functioning. it’s your senior year of university at an american ivy league school, you're pursuing an engineering degree, and you’re also working nearly five days a week as a barista. oscar thinks the last time he’s seen you relaxed is before your fall semester started, you spent your entire summer break with him, making appearances at the only three races you’ve been to this season (silverstone, hungary, and spa). the last time he recalls seeing your smile and hearing your laugh is in august—it’s the end of october now.

you’ve been ghosting him. oscar wants to believe that it’s unintentional, that it’s just a side effect of the amount of work and pressure on your shoulders—but he can’t accept that. if you were unintentionally missing his calls, facetimes, and texts, you’d spam respond to all of them with a voice message or paragraphs of texts before you went to bed or class. you would send him daily or weekly recap videos of how life is treating you, like you used to do. you would send him stupid videos of you messing around on your shifts during a pause of customers. you would send him thirty reels a day on instagram of brain dead shenanigans with little captions of how you reacted, or if you thought it would make him smile. you would send him fit checks every morning before you went to class, even though your outfit consists of a hoodie and sweatpants. you would send him tiktok edits of himself and tell him that he needs to stop being ‘so hot’ because you almost barked in the middle of class. you would ask him how he’s doing, you would respond to his texts the minute you could even if it's hours late, you would leave him voicemails if he doesn’t pick up, you would make an attempt to communicate.

except, you haven’t. so, he knows that you ignoring him is intentional, and that your lifestyle right now makes it easier for you to disguise your avoidance of him as accidental.

you didn’t say ‘i love you’ back.

“mate, what are you frowning for?” oscar jumps, eyes flying up from the phone screen and meeting lando’s. the brit is staring at him in confusion, the two of them are still in their race suits, tied around their waists. the sprint race ended an hour ago, and they’ve just finished celebrating oscar’s win.

“you’ve won a race, oscar—what could possibly make you sad after that?” lando says teasingly. but, the smile on his face is quick to fade as he must see oscar’s dejected mood.

the australian debates his next move for a moment, before deciding that telling lando isn’t a bad idea; they’ve been getting closer—they’re friends, oscar would say. he sighs, and hands his phone to lando, maybe he’ll tell oscar he’s worrying over nothing.

“oh,” lando says, eyes widening, “i’m sorry, mate.”

oscar brushes off lando’s words, and buries his face in his hands, “she’s pulling away from me. that was five days ago, and she hasn’t answered any of my calls. she’s only responded to my texts since then with one word answers or very dryly. she’s ghosting me.”

oscar feels lando fumbling for words, not needing to look at him to know that the older man has no idea how to go about reassuring oscar.

“look, mate, if it were me i’d go see her anyways.”

oscar huffs, “she literally said she doesn’t have time.”

“oscar,” lando stares at him in disbelief, “she hasn’t seen you in two months. i guarantee she’s probably dying to see you again, fuck whatever time she doesn’t have. she also can’t ghost you, if you see her face to face. you should go and try to fix whatever’s wrong, before you let her slip away.”

“maybe…maybe she’s just burnt out,” oscar suggests shakily, “i’ll go see her after the triple header–i’m probably just overreacting about this. she’ll be back to her usual self in time.”

oscar is enraged. he’s pissed off at his fans for attacking you in a sick twist of ‘defending him,’ ‘protecting him’ and the supposed ‘ownership’ they think they have over him. he’s pissed off at you deciding to ghost him instead of confiding in him about the hate you receive. he’s pissed off that his flight to you has been delayed for four hours. he’s pissed off at his race in brazil, if you can even call what happened a race. he’s pissed off at the fact that you can’t make time to see him before vegas. he’s pissed off that you lied to him about picking up extra shifts at the cafe.

he stalked through your instagram the minute after he was allowed to escape debrief, hunting down your roomates accounts from where you’ve tagged them in an older post. he innocently made a group message to the two girls, figuring it would be kind and proper to inform them of his impending arrival to surprise you. and the two girls you shared an apartment with responded eagerly to his message telling him that you’ve been extremely stressed and almost depressed this semester, and that hopefully his appearance will break through to you in a way they are unable to. oscar asked them if they knew your work schedule for the week, since you never told him when you're working–and learned that you lied. you didn’t accept any extra shifts, matter of fact, you got all of your shifts covered for the next two weeks. apparently, all you have been doing is going to class, working, studying furiously, and crying. when he asks if there’s any reason besides the stress from work and school that has you crying, the girls decline to speak for you, and strongly suggest that he asks you himself when he arrives.

oscar’s no longer pissed at you for lying to him or for ghosting him–he’s hurt, but, he already understands your motive. you don’t want to worry him, so you bottle it up and distance yourself to not make him aware of how you're struggling. he won’t let you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders alone anymore, he’s going to see you and he’s going to take care of you, and then he’ll sort out the ignorant people on the internet.

when he’s at your apartment, you’ll be coming home from your last shift before your time off. and then, once he has you in his arms, he can make everything right again.

your hands are shaking; a result from the mix of stress and exhaustion that has been plaguing you for a few weeks. it takes you four and a half attempts to unlock the front door to your apartment—this is an improvement, yesterday it took you six times. a trembling sigh of relief exits your lungs as you shut the front door, triple checking that you lock the door properly. you remove all of your outerwear and slip out of your shoes, half-heartedly making an attempt to neatly place them in the organizer you have by the door. (you fail to register how there’s only two pairs of shoes stored away; yours and a pair of shoes that look too big to be one of the girls you live with—the usual sneakers the girls wear are nowhere to be seen.) you grunt as you tenderly put on your backpack and slowly make your way into the kitchen, off-handedly murmuring a “hi,” in the direction of the living room since you can hear the tv playing, but you don’t even spare a glance to see which roommate it is—you can’t stomach anymore human interaction today.

your walk is more of a waddle; your legs and feet are sore from working nine-hour shifts five days in a row, and also from going to class four out of those five days. you place your backpack on the small island, and continue to gently meander towards the fridge. your stomach aches at the thought of food—which is unfortunate, considering you’ve only had one meal today. regardless, you will shove a sandwich down your throat, you need the energy if you’re going to study for three hours before you go to bed.

you pause before you open the fridge, a note is stuck on the door with a magnet. your roommates are gone; the two girls have spontaneously decided to go spend the weekend with their boyfriends—you’re not going to complain, you have the apartment to yourself. a brief wave of loneliness washes over you, you were kind of looking forward to venting about the week you had to the girls in the morning, and also, couldn’t they have texted you this earlier today? who leaves old-fashioned notes on the fridge anymore? you pull out your phone to send a text in your group chat wishing them a nice weekend, and see that they did, in fact, text you that they would be gone—three days ago. and, you never responded, because you never saw it. you shrug, and send the text anyways, you’ve been incredibly busy and you’re bound to miss a few texts (especially the eighteen texts from oscar that remain unopened).

you're just going through a little bit of a slump, and you’ve had a bad day. you accidentally messed up three orders today (out of the hundred you fulfilled, so three isn’t really terrible), your running off of four hours of sleep (you’re more energized when you sleep less, anyways), and a customer accidentally bumped into you as you were walking to bring coffee to a table, causing the hot liquid to spill and burn a little spot on the back of your hand by your thumb. well, you know it wasn’t purely accidental, as the girl giggled to the group of friends she was with after she “bumped” into you. based on the way she was wearing a mclaren hoodie, you can make several guesses as to why she did it—you’re kind of shocked that she noticed you even though you wear a mask at work (you have for about a month, too many fans have noticed who you are), her hate for a relationship that’s not hers should be studied for science.

incidents like these have made your coworkers start to…dislike you. the decrease in tips when you’re assigned to the register causes you to be forced to be hidden behind coffee machines the entire shift, only making drinks the entire nine hours you’re there. it’s better for you though, at least you can have a physical barrier blocking the prying eyes you feel are judging you the entire time. if anything, the recent atmosphere at work made you want to put in your two weeks—but, you have bills to pay. you’re just glad you managed to find a way to get two weeks off so you can focus on school and prepare for your exams—you can’t afford to fail, it’ll cost your scholarship and then you’ll need more than the job you have right now to finish school.

the buzzing of your phone pulls you back to the present—oscar’s calling. you squeeze your eyes shut for a few seconds, before you blink and silence the ringer. if you speak to him, you won’t be able to hide your troubles from him any longer; he reads you as easily as a kid’s picture book. he definitely doesn’t need to deal with your problems after whatever the hell happened in brazil. the noise of your phone startled you into a new thought, however. if the girls aren’t in the apartment, why the fuck is the tv on? who did you greet when you walked past the main room without a glance?

“i was calling to tell you that i’ve got takeout from the asian restaurant you like, if you’re looking for something to eat,” oscar says gently.

it’s a testament to how extremely exhausted you are: you don’t scream, you don’t fight, you don’t run—you just flinch slightly, and turn around slowly to face your boyfriend…the man you’ve been avoiding for nearly a month. at the sight of him (his fluffy hair, his soft sweater, the confused and concerned glint in his eyes) your lip starts quivering, and your eyes start watering. oscar’s gaze softens into something sweet yet empathic, and he says, “i know it’s been a while since we’ve last talked, but i didn’t think you’d cry at the sight of me.”

you burst into tears with a sob, and in a second oscar’s got you wrapped up in his arms, one hand soothingly massaging your back, while the other cradles your head on his shoulder. your borderline hyperventilating, your tears have started to soak his sweater, and you’re sniffling every two seconds to avoid getting snot on him too. oscar doesn’t try to quiet your tears, he doesn’t ask about what’s making you cry, he doesn’t even try to tell you that everything will be fine—he just holds you as you cry it out and presses kisses into your hair. eventually, the flow of tears dries and you focus on pulling in shaky breaths of air to calm down. oscar switches to holding you to his chest with one arm while he uses the free one to reach across the counter and grab a tissue. wordlessly, he wipes the wetness off your cheeks and under-eyes, he even uses another tissue to wipe your nose, clearing away the snot that managed to escape. you almost start crying again at the tender treatment and the matching look in his eyes, but you muster enough strength to keep the happy tears from falling over the waterline.

oscar nods once, deeming his cleanup complete, and clears his throat, “i’m going to heat up the food. then, we’ll eat and you’ll tell me what’s wrong and if that has anything to do with why you’re ignoring me.”

there’s no attempt from you to keep the façade up any longer, all you do is nod and step to the side so he can grab the food from the fridge.

oscar has already cleared his plate and you’re still picking through half of yours. the two of you are sitting on opposite ends of the couch, teen wolf is playing on a low volume, and your eyes are tunneled on the screen even though oscar can see that you’re not paying attention at all. one of the characters is screaming about having to get his arm cut off (stiles, probably) and suddenly you start talking to oscar.

“it’s been a shit semester. if i wasn’t graduating in spring, i honestly think i would’ve dropped out or taken a gap-year. and, i knew what i signed up for as an engineering major, and i knew that working was only going to add more on my plate—but, it’s not like i can quit my job, i have bills to pay. so, juggling school and work is difficult, and i was managing fine. but, i guess i made the mistake of scrolling through twitter—which is truly my fault i think—and everyone on the internet was calling me a ‘terrible girlfriend’,” oscar watches you scoff out a choked laugh, “and, i obviously didn’t believe i was. in the beginning, at least. i mean, it’s like they expected me to be at every race by your side, like i’m not working my way through a hellscape of a degree. i watched every practice session, qualifying, and race—they’re literally the only hours i don’t spend studying or working. i brag about you to everybody who would listen, i missed hours of sleep just to speak to you on the phone for five minutes, i work as hard as i can so i can finish this degree early so i can be with you as early as possible, and they say that you deserve a better girlfriend.”

you pause and rub at your eyes furiously, mouth opening and closing as you take time to find the words to continue. oscar quiets the flare of anger at your distress, and stays silent, not wanting to interrupt your speech, this is the most you’ve said to him in a month.

“the thing is: i-i i let their words get to me. i think it’s because i was being kicked while i was down—or whatever the phrase is. i was already mentally exhausted, and i already believe that i’m not doing my best this year, i’m disappointing everybody who knows me, i’m a shit student—and just seeing everybody agree, even though they’re just randoms on the internet, tore me down. i even deleted all of the apps off my phone,” your voice has shifted into something desperate, “so i couldn’t see what they were saying about me anymore, but it’s like once i saw it, it never left my mind. i feel like everybody is staring at me with condescending eyes, like they all think i’m terrible. and, logically, i know that’s probably not true. but, this semester has pushed me past the point of being able to rationalize properly. so as a result, i have become a ‘terrible girlfriend’ to you; like a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy.

“i avoid your calls, i leave you on delivered for days, i respond with one word, i lie to my friends and say i was up all night talking to you on the phone when i was really crying and studying at the same time, i hold back from bursting into tears in the middle of my shifts when one of your ‘fangirls’ spills their drink over me for the third time. and while doing all of this, i was hoping you’d do the hard part and just break up with me,” your voice rings out sharply and you refuse to look at your boyfriend, afraid to see the look on his face.

“because…” you whimper slightly, tongue flicking out to lick at your lips anxiously, “you do deserve a better girlfriend.”

oscar is lost for words at your conclusion; seeing you, one of the strongest women he knows break down, is a sight he never imagined. a sense of guilt builds within him, knowing that he’s added to the deprecating thoughts in your brain by postponing this intervention for weeks. you may think that he deserves someone better, but he hasn’t been the best to you either recently. if oscar was half the man you think he is, he would’ve never allowed you to avoid him in the first place. oscar stands up, collects your plate and his, and places them on the coffee table. he turns and drops to his knees in front of you, resting his hands on your thighs, and squeezes them gently to grab your attention. it takes a minute, but eventually you allow your eyes to fall to meet his, and oscar breaks further at the lack of light in your eyes.

“i think,” oscar starts quietly, “that you expect me to break up with you and leave—am i guessing correctly?”

you blink down at him and shrug, biting your lip to prevent it from quivering.

“i also think, that if i flew all this way to see you, and that if i listened to your heartbreaking recollection of how this semester and how the world has been incredibly unkind to you, and that if i sat here and still broke up you—it’s not me that deserves a better girlfriend; it’s you that deserves a better boyfriend.”

stunned, you stumble over your disagreement, but oscar steadfastly continues.

“you did the right thing by deleting your socials—and that would explain why all three hundred of the reels i’ve sent you have gone unseen,” he laughs lightly, “and even if their words took root, you prevented yourself from being able to see more of it every time you used your phone; so even if my pride is not needed, i am proud of you for doing that. i’m even more proud that you sat here and told me that you aren’t doing well, that you didn’t make an attempt to lie, and that i didn’t have to force you to tell me,” oscar says seriously, holding steady eye contact with you to make sure you're hearing him.

“i wish that you would have mentioned the hate you’re receiving as soon as it started, and that you would have told me your mental health was suffering too. you know i do everything in my power to avoid reading anything with my name in it unless it’s a credible article—so imagine my surprise, when i learned about what people were saying about you through a twitter thread logan, of all people texted me about,” you snort out a laugh at the feigned disdain in oscar’s voice when he mentions the american driver.

“you know i have no issues embarrassing people on the internet for their incorrect claims—and i’d especially tear them to shreds for trying to drag you down. we’ve been together too long for you not to come to me about things like this, even if it’s something that mildly upsets you—i want to know, because then i can make it better, or i can at least try to. you haven’t complained to me about the grueling lifestyle once, as i worked my way up to f1; if anybody could be perfect, it would be you. so, let me try to be as perfect as you, and support you properly and thoroughly as you finish up this degree, baby.

“we’re soulmates, aren’t we?” it’s a question, but oscar states it like a fact, “and i know i can’t magically make the self-loathing disappear with one conversation, but i'll tell you that you’re the best girlfriend i’ve ever had countless times, until you believe me unquestionably.”

oscar watches your nose scrunch cutely as you sniffle, unable to stop the tears that leak from the corners of your eyes. sweetly, he catches them with his thumb before they fall. he stands up and tugs you to your feet, pulling you into a tight, warm hug.

“i love you, kanga,” oscar coos as he kisses your forehead.

“i love you the most, roo,” you answer back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

“i’ve bought some lavender epsom salt and an embarrassing amount of bath bombs. will you let me take care of you tonight?” oscar asks quietly.

he sees the mix of awed-disbelief and confusion as you stare up at him, like you can’t imagine why he’d want to love you tenderly tonight, and that hurts him more—the words of his ‘fans’ online have done enough damage to cause you to doubt him. maybe he can convince you to come to vegas with him so he can keep you close, but first, he needs to focus on caring for you here and now.

oscar grabs his duffle bag and smiles as you hold his hand to lead him to your room and the attached bathroom (rent is ridiculously expensive, but at least you don’t have to share a bathroom with your roommates.) oscar sends you to grab pajamas while he starts filling the tub, epsom salt already poured in. he fiddles with the temperature for a while before it’s set to the boiling-your-skin-off hot you enjoy. by the time you join him in the bathroom, he’s added the salts and soap in the water and has placed the bath bombs out for you to choose one. oscar can’t help the small smile that rises to his face at the sight of the serious furrow of your brow as you pick out your favorite from the bunch.

oscar hums as you hand him the jade-infused bath bomb, and asks, “can i wash your hair too? or will it mess up your schedule?”

“i actually really need to wash it,” you murmur with a humorless chuckle, “i’ve been so busy that i haven’t been taking care of my hair properly.”

oscar blinks and continues non-judgmentally, “i’ll give you an extra scalp massage to make up for that—you can start getting undressed now, the water’s nearly ready.”

he turns around awkwardly, he’s seen you naked before but he feels like it would be slightly perverse to watch you while you’re clearly in a more sensitive state tonight. he fumbles with the faucet for a few seconds before turning it off, and drops the bath bomb into the water so it can start dispersing. oscar faces you again carefully making sure he avoids staring at your body and locks eyes with you, he beckons you forward with an outstretched hand and holds your hand as you submerge yourself in the water. once you’re settled comfortably, oscar grabs your hair products (he holds up any bottle he thinks you may not want to use tonight, and you give him a thumbs up or down to decide), and then kneels at your side.

he starts to roll up the sleeves of the hoodie but your hand halts his motions, the water splashing loudly at the quickness of your movement, “you’re not getting in with me?”

“uh,” oscar stutters, “i-i wasn’t planning on it. i just wanted to give you a nice bath.”

oscar pinkens as you stare at him wordlessly and when your unimpressed gaze shifts to a slight glare, he finds himself shedding his clothes and sinking in behind you at an impressive speed.

his heart began to race as the two of you shifted into as comfortable of a position you could achieve in a too-small tub, but calmed at your pleased hum as you settled between his legs with your back resting on his chest. this may be the most romantic experience oscar has ever indulged in. sure, it’s not a candlelit dinner at an obnoxiously expensive restaurant but, it’s him detangling your hair, it’s him massaging shampoo into your crown, it’s him scratching softly along your scalp as the deep conditioner sits, it’s you playing with the water innocently, it’s you whispering every detail of your life that he’s missed out on, it’s you gently directing him through braiding your hair, and it’s him pressing kisses to your shoulder when he finishes. there isn’t a single moment where the two of you become unsettled during lapses of silence; the intimacy of his actions is loud enough to fill the gaps. oscar can’t imagine ever being this comfortable with anybody besides you, he hates that he almost allowed you to pull completely away from him. moments like these, where you allow yourself to be thoughtlessly vulnerable with him, are exactly why he’s completely enamored with you.

your body has loosened against him, muscles syrupy and lax from the effects of a toe-curling scalp massage, and oscar gently guides you to sit upright while steadying most of your weight with a single hand splayed against your abdomen. the sound of the cap of your body wash clicking open startles you into the present, and you shift around to straddle his lap. it’s amusing; he inaudibly chuckles at the sight of you struggling to complete your change of position without sending water over the edge. you make a triumphant noise when you’ve managed to turn around to face him, and oscar’s hands cradle your hips when you rest on his lap.

“can i–”

“shouldn’t you–”

oscar bursts into laughter and you into giggles, at the interruption of each other's sentences. it’s definitely not that funny, but oscar’s heart skips a beat at the sound of your laugh–he hasn’t heard that sweet noise in what feels like forever. he motions for you to speak, ever the gentleman, and eagerly awaits for our question with a smile still stretched across his lips.

“shouldn’t you fuck me before we wash up? so we don’t have to clean up twice?”

oscar chokes on his breath, his grip on you tightening in surprise, and he babbles, “what? no-i mean, yes, i mean—wait. i didn’t do all of this just to have sex with you, you know that right? i genuinely just wanted to pamper you–”

“oscar,” you cut him off, intentionally this time around, “after the semester i’ve had, and the less than kind words i’ve heard and thoughts i’ve had describing myself–i really do appreciate the bath, i feel reminded that you love me. however, i really think that having sex would help…solidify your devotion for me.”

oscar blinks up at you, he wasn’t quite expecting you to return to your normal sassy behavior as quickly as you did. but, he is thankful that you’ve opened up to him with no further hesitation–it’s actually incredibly attractive of you, how you’ve resumed complete comfortability in expressing exactly what you want to him. at least, that’s the excuse he’s telling himself to cope with being half-hard already.

“...at least let me take you to bed, then?”

“no,” you whine down at him, your hips sneakily twitching forward, oscar moans lightly at the light grind, “too far! saves time later if we don’t have to come back to shower.”

“you’re right,” oscar hums distractedly, moving his right hand off your waist to slip between your thighs and brush along your cunt, “i’ll fuck you here as long as you let me do all of the work.”

oscar’s blood heats at the sound of your whimpering moan and he takes his other hand off your waist to grab at your chin and he pulls you down for a kiss.

oscar groans when you pause before your lips touch his, and he feels the breath of your giggle ghost over his mouth, “mmm, i’ll never say no to that—and, didn’t i agree to let you take care of me tonight?”

taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

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astonmartinii · 8 months

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An Oscar piastri request because I have severe brain rot. Oscar Piastri x black American!reader. Like they met through Logan and Oscar is just downright obsessed with his girlfriend and everything she does. No pressure I just really enjoy the way you write.

southern charm | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem american!reader

once upon a time, in the magical land of the 305, one man would take the mantle of the ultimate wingman

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, arthurleclerc and 21,983 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: pov you're my phone when i'm watching oscar piastri tiktok edits

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user1: babe those edits are doing over time

yourusername: i don't like your tone. oscar is the sexiest man ever, end of.

user2: if your gf isn't arguing with randoms online over you, is she really your gf?

user3: she doesn't hold back when it comes to oscar, that's my GOAT

oscarpiastri: can you stop sending them to me i don't like being perceived.

yourusername: too bad because i want to perceive you

logansargeant: i'd argue she wants to perceive you too much

yourusername: only because you have no one to perceive you

logansargeant: you can't call me lonely when i got you your boyfriend

yourusername: 👋 👀 hey look it's the main contributor to the male loneliness statistics 👀 👋

oscarpiastri: y/n that's mean...

yourusername: but not wrong 😑

user4: i know they're joking but y/n does not hold back

yourusername: had to prepare him for the mean f1 bitches

landonorris: so this is the mysterious gf...

yourusername: watch your step at COTA, oscar may obey team orders but i DONT

landonorris: oscar???

oscarpiastri: i'm sorry y/n can FACTUALLY do no wrong so you're on your own here mate

yourusername: thank you baby. oscar supports women's rights and wrongs he is a hashtag ally

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 621,983 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: getting daily outfit updates from the love of your life >>>

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user5: oh this has to be one of the healthiest celebrity relationships ever

yourusername: omg mom i'm a celebrity

user6: hi can we please get the skincare routine?

yourusername: thank you for picking the ones where i look good baby x

oscarpiastri: you look good, GREAT IN FACT, in every photo ever - every waking moment

yourusername: you're too cute osc x

logansargeant: so you get this and i just get venmo requests?

yourusername: don't hate the player, hate the game

logansargeant: what game are we playing it's just venmo requests for coffee because "i'm a girl i deserve it"

oscarpiastri: idk that sounds logical to me

logansargeant: wait does she not do this to you?

oscarpiastri: no? also just know we split the money so thank you for all of my morning coffees for the last two years logan x

logansargeant: i regret ever introducing you two

user6: obsessed with this nightmare trio

alexalbon: can confirm they are a nightmare

oscarpiastri: don't call us a nightmare on my gf appreciation post

lilymunhe: yeah alex, where's mine?

alexalbon: any trio that breaks my motorhome from getting to competitive during just dance can be categorised as a nightmare - hope this helps x

yourusername: is it because we didn't invite you?

alexalbon: it was literally MY motorhome?

oscarpiastri: we beat our best score on rasputin so sorry not sorry

user7: idk how people can say oscar has no personality when he literally would throw hands for y/n?

yourusername

liked by alexalbon, oscarpiastri and 24,871 others

yourusername: practising my smize for the COTA paddock can't allow oscar to be the only one to slay in austin

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user10: any spare paddock passes miss?

logansargeant: so i'm not allowed to slay?

yourusername: i think you need to save up all of your slaying for the track to get that point on the board

logansargeant: Y/N ????? i'm trying :(

yourusername: sorry logie bear that was a low blow from me, i'm proud of you

oscarpiastri: talented. brilliant. incredible. amazing. showstopping. spectacular. never the same. totally unique. completely not ever been done before.

yourusername: did you just quote lady gaga?

oscarpiastri: yeah, got a problem with that?

yourusername: nope. you're my favourite little monster

landonorris: i thought this was a healthy relationship - don't call my teammate a monster 😤

yourusername: that's what lady gaga fans are called lando, i've called him much worse, bring ear plugs to cota ;)

oscarpiastri: WAIT NO MY PR TEAM SAID NO MORE SEXY TIMES ON PUBLIC PLATFORMS

yourusername: boring ...

user11: so excited for the best f1 wag to be back in the paddock

yourusername: appreciate it but i can't take the crown from real icon lily

lilymunhe: omg thanks y/n i can't wait to meet you !!

alexalbon: are you always as insane as logan says

yourusername: he's probably not wrong but i prefer the term charming

oscarpiastri: we're just very passionate about things

alexalbon: like just dance?

yourusername: no comment.

mclaren

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 1,092,347 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri

mclaren: get someone who looks at you the way oscar and y/n look at each other

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user14: i came here to watch formula 1 not to feel LONELY

user15: okay who was going to tell me oscar had such a hot girlfriend?

logansargeant: trust me literally spend more than 30 seconds with him and you'll know

oscarpiastri: okay but y/n is the prettiest person in the world AND the smartest, funniest and kindest person ever so you WILL listen and appreciate her

yourusername: god i love you so much

user16: is she an aussie too?

yourusername: nope i pulled oscar with pure american southern charm

oscarpiastri: it's true she lassoed me like a cowboy and it was love at first sight

yourusername: let me clarify we were at a wild wild west party but it was defo love at first lasso

landonorris: get someone who looks at you the way i look at the MCL60 😍

user17: lando is one of us

landonorris: i feel lonelier now, around oscar and y/n, than i did right when i was broken up with

yourusername: easy to look like that when your boyfriend is a dashing, charming and humble gentleman + generational talent

oscarpiastri: hehehehe stop you're making me blush

logansargeant: you guys are so gross

yourusername: says the man that's literally an accredited wing man because YOU got us together

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 37,988 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: that moment when you see the love of your life achieve his dreams !!!!!!!!!! NO FR oscar i am so so unbelievably proud of you, you deserve this so much. i love you, thank you for letting me be a part of your life x

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user21: they're my parents now they have no say in it

user22: consider me charmed

oscarpiastri: thank you so much my love, your support is everything to me and i can't wait to grow old with you

yourusername: my heart is yours now and forever ❤️

oscarpiastri: also i'm finding some way to frame you celebrating in my garage

yourusername: i couldn't contain my excitement, sorry to the mechanic who literally got tinnitus from me screaming lol

user23: her in the garage is real f1 fan representation

logansargeant: as much shit as i give you guys, you're so cute and i'm so glad you guys have each other

yourusername: thank you logan!! i forever owe you one for introducing us

oscarpiastri: i promise when you get into a relationship i won't once complain about it

landonorris: i was a cynic, but yeah you guys are very cute - i am endeared

yourusername: oscar tends to have that effect

oscarpiastri: ummmmm i think it's more you

landonorris: okay i said you guys are cute you don't need to prove it again

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, yourusername and 1,239,084 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: the best weekend ever and wishing i could just take you everywhere with me, until las vegas my love x

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yourusername: take me with you

yourusername: who cares about life responsibilities when i'm with you

yourusername: i'd say i'm a good luck charm but you're too talented to need one

oscarpiastri: i love you so much i miss you already

landonorris: you said goodbye five minutes ago... we've not even got to departures yet

oscarpiastri: is it illegal to miss the love of your life?

landonorris: when i'm not in a relationship? YES.

user24: the way oscar was horrified at arthur's 18 hour screentime, i bet his is just as bad now

oscarpiastri: no comment

yourusername: it's 16 hours lol

arthurleclerc: where is my justice? my apology?

oscarpiastri: we fall asleep on face time. i'm not chronically online i'm just terminally in love with my girlfriend

arthurleclerc: trust me we know

logansargeant: the way i know he's about to fly because @yourusername texts me - always the second choice :(

yourusername: oof i guess i'll nap instead

logansargeant: no i can still beat ur ass on 8 ball pool

oscarpiastri: you can't out do the doer soz bud

yourusername: i miss you come back, bullying logan was so much better together in person

note: i hope this was what you were hoping for! i love oscar so i'm always happy to write for him and i love a good comment squabble! thanks for requesting x

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine

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