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jamminvroomvroom · 2 months

Note

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

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

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keerysfreckles · 1 month

Text

high definition — OP81 (smau)

pairing: oscar piastri x norris!fem!reader

summary: y/n tends to favor oscar over her own brother

warnings: none!

a/n: first smau.. send me requests if you want more 😁

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

yourusername just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 507,440 others

yourusername found a new hiking buddy:) tagged: oscarpiastri

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user1 i need to go hiking with them asap

user2 omg oscar???

landonorris why do you keep stealing my teammate 🤨

yourusername not my fault he's cooler than you 🤷‍♀️

danielricciardo AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE

yourusername OI! OI! OI!

danielricciardo oscarpiastri you've taught her well

oscarpiastri i try 😅

user3 him taking a picture of her taking a picture is so personal to me

user4 she's wearing oscars mclaren beanie in the last one DHMU...

yourusername added to their story !

[podium boy! oscarpiastri]

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landonorris where's my podium post

bffusername GIRL THE WAY HE'S LOOKING AT YOU

logansargeant and you still say your just friends..

oscarpiastri just posted !

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 924,066 others

oscarpiastri great way to end the weekend tagged: yourusername

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user1 DOUBLE MCLAREN PODIUM ‼️‼️

user2 our papayas did it 🥹🥹

user3 finally the mclaren strategy made sense

yourusername can i come to every race now

oscarpiastri duh you're my good luck charm 🧡

landonorris what is y/n's face in that pic 😭

yourusername I DIDN'T THINK YOUR CAR WOULD BE THAT LOUD

user4 his good luck charm???? hello????

mclaren first double podium of many

yourusername just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 590,182 others

yourusername turned 21 in the paddock today 🧡💐🫶🏻🎂🏁🌟🐨

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user1 HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N!!!!!!!!

mclaren orange looks good on you

yourusername ikr! 😆

user2 OSCARS HAT I REPEAT OSCARS HAT

user3 i just know mclaren got a lil cake for her ☹️☹️☹️☹️

oscarpiastri i'm not getting that hat back anytime soon aren't i

yourusername nope! 🤗

user4 I KNEW IT WAS OSCARS

landonorris wow you'll take osc's hat but not mine 😒

yourusername well yes!

bffusername so glad the koala shipped in time 🙏

alexalbon missed opportunity to tag oscar as the koala

oscarpiastri just posted !

liked by landonorris, charlesleclerc and 1,013,583 others

oscarpiastri my birthday girl 🧡

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user1 HIS birthday girl.. oh im ending it all

user2 HARD LAUNCH???????????

landonorris i see who your favorite norris is 😔😔

oscarpiastri it took you this long to notice it's not you?

yourusername HAHA OSC LIKES ME BETTER 🫵🤣

user3 sorry max and kelly, y/n and oscar are my new fav f1 couple

charlesleclerc so this is why you weren't at team dinner tonight

oscarpiastri sorry i have priorities 🤷‍♂️

user4 Y/NOSCAR IM SO UP 🙌🏻🙌🏻

landonorris added to their story !

[i'm such a third wheel 💔 oscarpiastri yourusername]

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yourusername you know you could've stayed home right

oscarpiastri but you're the best third wheel

carlossainz lando i thought we talked about this, you ALWAYS stay home when they ask if you want to go with them

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri x norris!reader #oscarpiastri f1 #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri smau #smau #f1 smau #f1 x reader

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f1version · 10 months

Text

CRUSH ★ OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x norris! reader ( she/her )

summary: One day you tweet about how your “last year crush” was your brother’s new teammate. Chaos, bad pick up lines, and confessions ensue.

notes: here’s what i promised my beloveds, goodnight! (or good evening/day/everything everyday) <33

yourusername’s insta story

oscarpiastri replied to your story

yourusername

Liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 181,204 others

yourusername Amazing quali with the Papaya fam! So proud of the team, ＠landonorris and ＠oscarpiastri 🧡

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landonorris my biggest supporter 🧡🧡

yourusername sometimes i do love you 🫶🏻

landonorris you’re the worst sister ever

oscarpiastri my future WAG 🧡🧡

yourusername you won’t persuade me

landonorris OSCAR

yourusername’s insta story

oscarpiastri’s insta story

oscarpiastri

Liked by yourusername, mclaren and 220,376 others

oscarpiastri Safety car didn’t get the memo. But what a car! 🧡

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yourusername You were insane out there, you may be my new favorite mclaren driver <333

landonorris I’ve never felt more betrayed in my LIFE

yourusername I’M VENGEANCE SAID BATMAN

yourusername’s insta story

oscarpiastri’s insta story

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mikonez · 9 days

Text

going places, doing things, pining on the passenger seat

#listen look at arthur can you blame oscar #hey! 👉🏻👈🏻 whomsoever reads this do you want to mayhaps write some more blindfaith fics?#because I am struggling with the 26 existing ones (ive read them all)#malevolent #malevolent podcast #my art #arthur lester #oscar #blind faith #fanart #art #animation

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panevanbuckley · 10 months

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i hope fic authors who put songs that inspired the fic in the notes know that i am immediately adding those songs to that ship's playlist

#and will then spend far too long explaining to people why i have a random song in a playlist that isn't connected at all #for example: currently have a song from barbie in my f1 playlist and it gives me oscar piastri vibes #purely because i read a landoscar fic and the author said they listened to this repeatedly whilst writing it #my fandom playlists are a mess basically #ao3 #fanfic

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3typical3 · 1 year

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Tip for non Hispanic ppl writing Spanglish

*I initially wrote this at 1 am so like, keep that in mind as you decipher this lol

*context is key when speaking Spanglish, if your character is in a professional setting they probably won’t speak Spanglish unless it’s to a fellow co worker who also speaks Spanglish. It’s more of a casual way a speaking yk?

Also parents, I avoid Spanglish with my parents unless we’re switching from just speaking Spanish to just speaking English. But that’s depends from family to family.

It’s typically like switching sentences and not dropping in random words.

Example “ es Que fui a la tienda, and they were out of milk”

Example “ te ves cansada, did you sleep last night?”

“La neta” is and extremely common Mexican slang term, typically means, honestly. It can also be used to mean ‘really?’

Honestly example:

“La neta, Im tired”

Or “La neta, estoy cansada. Im going to bed”

In the case it means “really?”:

ex.) “Neta?! They said that?!”

I personally say “ de que” which is basically saying “like”, it’s a filled term, before saying a sentence in either English or Spanish

example “ de que idk it won’t work”

I’m Mexican so I use “ósea” a lot in both languages. Another substitute for words like:

“I mean,” “it'd be,” ”like,” “so,” “that is,” “therefore,” and “or.”

Ex. “ ósea, it looks weird idk”

The famous “ pero like” I personally don’t use a lot but an example of how it’s used in Spanglish is “ pero like, how did it happen?”

Sometimes I Just say “ fuck” but like in my Mexican accent or in a sentence.

“ fuck, perdí mi pulsera”

When I get startled I cuss in both English and Spanish but a Spanglish example would be

*insert random startling noise

“ ala verga! That scared me” or “ hijo de tu puta madre!” when something REALLY scared the shit out of me lol

“Chingada madre, where did that come from”

Rlly insert any cuss word in there and it probably works in Spanglish.

Edit bc I thought of this the morning after

In Mexican Spanish for whatever reason the word “madre” can be used like kinda like a cuss word lol.

Example “ Me vale madres”

Which in English would translate to “I don’t value mothers” but in practice means “I don’t give a shit” or “I don’t care”.

Another Mexican deep cut is the word “pedo” which yes, means fart but we’ve really given the word so many alternative meanings like

“ no es mi pedo “ = “not my problem”

“Estoy bien pedo” = “in rlly drunk”

“Vas a la peda?” = “ are you going to the party/kickback”

There’s more but that’s like the basics lol.

Also another Mexican term is “Aguas”… which literally translates to “waters” but it’s used as a warning.

“Aguas, there’s car coming”

The most famous of Mexican slang has to be “wey” or “guey” depends on how you spell it. But it just means dude. Another term that goes in hand is, “no mames” which basically means “are you kidding me”.

*men for whatever reason hate when the girl they’re dating or are into calls them wey. I think it’s because it’s seen as either improper or as like friend zoning.

“Wey, you’re not gonna believe this”

“No mames wey, look at this”

Another term is “equis” which basically means whatever

“How was the party?”

“Estuvo equis”

Another example

“ now was she dressed?”

“Equis, nothing crazy nothing wow”

*I recommend for Mexican characters looking into the words, or you can just ask me I just don’t wanna make this longer than I already have lol, “mamar”/“mamo”/“mamon”, each you would think is the same but no, no they are not and using one in the wrong context could be catastrophic lol. They are vital words to our vocab

If you’re writing to a character from a specific country, take the time to learn some slang. Sometimes slang crosses over, sometimes even we use slang we learn from each others dialects. Personally I love “joder”/“no jodas” because of the shows from Spain.

But take the time because if you write a Colombian character using most of the slang I’ve used above, you’d get a lot of hate from Colombians lol.

Some bad Spanglish examples would be

“ why didnt you eat your comida?”

Like no. Just no. Inserting a random Spanish word doesn’t equate to Spanglish, at least not in most Latin peoples lives

“ you look cansada” also just no.

*Edit I saw someone post abt this and I felt like adding it in

If you do insert a random Spanish word or vice versa it’s because you forgot the word but that involves a lot of blanking and being annoyed you can’t dig the simplest word out of you sub conscience lol

Example: “ you look, FUCK what’s the word! You know when you’re cansada…TIRED. You look tired”

Another commenter addition I’ll be adding is using “eh” as a filler instead of “um”. I use both but even in English I default to using “eh” or “ehmmmm”

The worst is when you don’t remember the word, only to have it appear in your subconscious hours later lol

Another fav filler word is “deste” which equates to another more Central American term “vaina” but a less refined way of saying it. Essentially they mean “thing” but that thing can be anything. It’s kinda a word when you’re to lazy to say the actual word.

“Pásame el deste”

*passes them x ítem

“No I meant the remote”

*trying not to kill the person because they could’ve said remote the whole time but chose not to

Sometimes we use bad Spanglish on purpose just to be funny

“Que sad” “Que cute”

* i personally love inserting the word cute into my vocab in Spanish just cuz so to each their own

Something I do is like say something in English and immediately say the exact same thing in Spanish. Or like I’ll say an exclamation in one language then end in the other.

“ GO GO GO, VÁMONOS APÚRATE”

“Que asco, gross”

“WOW, que bueno”

Also if you’re writing like couples tbh nicknames in Spanish would be reserved for when you’re speaking in Spanish and same for English, but each couple is different so if you rlly want to leave a nickname in Spanish in go for it. If you rlly want the endearment to be “ mi amor” please remember that after like the first or second time the Spanish speaker would probably just refer to their S/O as “ amor” or switch between the two.

Which brings me to the terms “mami/mamita” and “papi/papito”. Now, while they Can and are by some used in a sexual manner, they can also be used as general terms of endearment. My mom will sometimes call me mamita or my brother papito.

Amongst couples though it’s just kinda said, I saw someone describe it was you just give motherly energy so “mami” is said lol which I get oddly enough.

Once a couple is well established or just comfortable the woman can refer to her S/O as “ viejo” which is old man lol, but it’s like cute. On the flip side idk it’s typically seen as offensive when a man calls his S/O “vieja” but that depends on culture to culture.

Again mami and papi don’t have to be sexual but can be.

Another simple thing you can do is look up nicknames for certain names.

Examples:

“Mike” pronounced “Mique” for Miguel. Some people like to use “Mickey”, that gained popularity from an old Mexican singer lol.

“Ponchó” For Alfonso

“Ale” Can be used for Alejandro/Alexandra/Alejandra

Another thing I thought of is amongst siblings when referring to our parents we will say like

“Haz visto a mi mamá”

Which means have you seen “my mom” even though she’s both our mom… idk it’s weird but a nice little touch you could add to your writing lol

I get rlly annoyed reading bad Spanglish, sometimes it’s just painfully cringe and just obvious a non Spanish speaker wrote it, and I realize it’s bc most of y’all didnt grow up with it so like this is just what is typical Spanglish most Hispanic ppl grow up speaking, obviously not everyone speaks like this but figured I’d give tips from someone who actually speaks English and Spanish and switches between.

If I missed anything feel free to add on or if you disagree add examples

#writing tips #writing #fan fic #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #namor x reader #pedro pascal #oscar issac #tenoch huerta #marvel #spiderman #hispanic #fan fic writing

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months

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perfect little toy

a/n: I cannot tell you how quickly this came out of me after I watched the movie... like bro, I felt like barry allen with the way my fingers flew over those keys. I'm just crazy about the fantasy of being his personal stress toy grrrrr

I wrote a part two for this because I just couldn't get the fantasy out of my head.

warnings: Miguel O'Hara x reader, smut, kissing, foreplay, oral, dirty talk, size kink, manhandling, impact play, his fangs and claws, biting, lowkey marking, being paralysed from his bite (but kinda mild I guess on the scale of how it could be)

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Feeling yourself succumb to the dizzying sensation of lips attacking the rabid pulse on the curve of your neck, your eyes fluttered to the back of your skull as your weak protest came out more as a needy whine, ”I thought you said last time was the last time,” feeling like the wall might break behind you from how fiercely the burly man clutching you pressed your spine against it. Thighs trembling, locked around his hips, his grip on them suddenly shifted as he, completely ignoring your squeak, unceremoniously hoisted you further up, tossing you far enough up to be caught in his arms, “Miguel!”

With your legs flopping over his broad shoulders, your hands quickly shot down for support, not because you feared he would drop you, but purely out of reflex. Cradling you in his arms, he nipped up your inner thigh, inhaling deeply as he neared your throbbing centre. Feeling his muscles flex beneath you, his fingers dug into your goosebump-ridden skin, his sharp talons just shyly poking out and tearing holes in your dress.

Growling against your soft flesh, he suddenly nipped you in a way contrary to any of his other love bites.

Letting out a sharp yelp, you exclaimed, “did you just bite me?” the stinging pain suddenly became less significant of a problem as you felt your body begin to lock up, paralysis spreading from the bite and like waves slowly seeping out into your muscles.

“Relax, princesa,” his deep voice rumbled as your body slackened in his grasp, your lower half seemingly more affected by the toxin than your upper, “it’ll wear off,” he crept a claw under your dress and tore off your drenched panties, “just let me have this,” his head disappeared under the billowing fabric, one of his limps easily taking over all of your weight so that the other could arc down upon your bottom, landing electric smacks upon the curve, “let me have you,” rumbling against your drooling petals, you choked out broken moans as he feverishly lapped up your juices before latching on to your buzzing pearl, “let me use you like the perfect little toy I know you are.”

#lea’s writing #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #oscar issac smut #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman smut #spider man smut #marvel smut #spiderman x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #spider man 2099 smut

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oscartwofoxtrot · 10 months

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[kicks down the door like the kool-aid man]: hi oscar talk to me about your favorite scene that you’ve written?

Sorry this took so long to answer, I was, apparently, writing an entire thesis. You Have Been Warned.

Oh my god uhhh. My favourite scene…okay, if I had to go with one, it’d probably be the scene from The Valiant Never Taste of Death I unofficially refer to as ‘Everybody’s dying bitch, let’s get you some peanut butter’. This comes about a quarter of the way through the second (proper) chapter, Requiem (NB: if we’re going by AO3 numbers then it’s Chapter 3, since there’s a Prologue chapter as well, but I don’t tend to count that numerically), and it’s the bit where Nate gently bullies Brad into sitting down and having a snack. And then uno reverse-cards him into talking about his childhood trauma. [Slaps scene] This bad boy can fit so many emotions in it!

For those unfamiliar with Halo 4 (which in all likelihood is most if not all of you), you should know that for the most part, I tend to hew fairly closely to the story and plot structure of the game when writing Valiant. But linear first person shooters don’t offer the characters a lot of opportunities to sit down and talk about their feelings, so this scene is an oscartwofoxtrot original! Sure, the action scenes can be fun, but there’s nothing I love more than getting to write Brad and Nate in their quiet moments, and I crowbarred this one in here to really dig into that Deep Halo Lore and hopefully use it to get at some of the complexities of their dynamic in this AU.

Speaking of complexities, you ask me anything at all about Valiant and I am not so much going to unpack the suitcase as start pulling hat stands and potted plants out of it Mary Poppins-style, so…this shit’s gonna need an itemised list.

1. Nate: [Basically refuses to acknowledge his own mortality, but you better believe he makes sure Brad remembers to eat and take a break every once in a while]. Also, Brad displaying just how whipped he really is. They may not have the same relationship dynamic as canon, but Brad pretty much lets Nate tell him what to do most of the time. tbh I think he likes it.

2. We get another hint at the circumstances surrounding Nate’s capture by the Gravemind. I alluded to this event in the prologue but have thus far avoided going into too much detail about it, so you’d better believe it’s a Surprise Tool That Will Help Us Later. One of the biggest challenges of writing an AU based on the fourth game in a series is finding the Goldilocks Zone of exposition – too much and you lose the current plot thread as well as the attention of literally everyone reading; not enough and the whole thing is virtually incomprehensible to normal people who don’t spend all their time on Halopedia. Trying to get that balance right is, shall we say, an ongoing struggle.

That said, I have been having way too much fun throwing out passing references to stuff like this – and this particular occurrence is a Big Deal in the world of Brad and Nate, because I think it may be the only time they’d been apart for more than like 24 hours since they started working together. (The backstory of their first meeting is a whole other essay in its own right, so I’ll just slap a sticker on this that says ‘Ask Me About My Canon Timeline In The Very Unlikely Event That You Are Interested’). Nate had become such a permanent fixture in Brad’s life, I doubt Brad understood what it would even feel like to miss him until he was gone.

And now that Nate’s life is in danger again, Brad has a very clear understanding of the stakes involved. Almost losing him the first time…it wasn’t The Moment of Realisation (more on that later), but it certainly did crystallise some deeper level of awareness on just how important Nate is to him. Of course, last time, the problem was one of distance – Brad was light-years away and couldn’t immediately get back to Nate, but there was a fortress to storm and a dragon to slay so he could save him. This time, Brad is right there, and he can see Nate suffering, and there is absolutely nothing he can do about it.

3. Couldn’t resist throwing in a version of the Peanut Butter MRE Temper Tantrum lol. I am at heart a giant sap and I do love writing them joking around and just being incredibly fond of each other. Because there’s no officer-enlisted divide here, it gives them more room to develop the casual familiarity and vaguely flirtatious banter we see hints of in the show. The spectre of Nate’s Rampancy does cast a pall over the whole thing, but it wouldn’t be Generation Kill without some serious mood whiplash. Speaking of which…

4. Hello and welcome to my impromptu TED Talk on the Insane Fucking Lore behind the SPARTAN-II program! (On all levels except physical I am this Brian David Gilbert Unraveled video). That’s right: the Spartan-IIs were kidnapped from their families at the age of six and, to avoid suspicion, replaced by clones implanted with their memories who would die within months due to congenital health issues caused by the cloning process. And as Nate points out, the UNSC didn’t even have the justification of the Covenant War, because that hadn’t started yet! They did this shit because various colony worlds wanted independence from the United Earth Government – but that would negatively affect the economy, so apparently the only two options available were ‘bloody civil war costing billions of human lives’ or ‘covert military operations to quash nascent insurrectionist uprisings, carried out by fucking child soldiers who we put through brutal training and experimental bio-augmentations that killed or permanently maimed like half of them’.

So, uh. That’s fucked! And what’s wild is that even though this has been a feature of the expanded universe since the beginning, it’s something that’s barely ever touched on in the games. Nate only knows about it because he went snooping for Brad’s unredacted file not long after they met for the first time (based on Cortana doing the same in the Halo prequel novel The Fall of Reach). For what it’s worth, Brad’s stated mindset is pretty typical of how the Spartans themselves feel about the whole thing: it’s been normalised for them because it’s the only life they know.

Nate, meanwhile, is understandably horrified, and it’s clear they both recognise the parallels between their experiences – the UNSC took away Nate’s autonomy too, by the very act of his creation. In between the Gravemind and the Rampancy, it’s something he’s been increasingly struggling with: that he was brought into being as a fully-formed person to serve a specific purpose, with the knowledge that he’d only have an operational lifespan of seven years before his systems started to decay irreparably. I can’t put it better than the Gravemind did (courtesy of the Halo short story Human Weakness by Karen Traviss): “Your creators made you separate. They placed a barrier between you and the beings that you would be encouraged to protect, a wall you could never breach. They even gave you a human to centre your existence upon, a human to care about, yet never considered how you might feel at never being able to simply touch him. Or how he might feel about outliving you.”

Damn are you guys seeing this shit? This is fucking crazy! Anyway I’m Rod Serling

5. Rule number one of Valiant: Brad does not know that he’s in love with Nate. Ya boi is pining without even realising that he’s pining. This isn’t a reflection of how I most commonly interpret canon – I look at show!Brad and I’m like ‘yeah, there’s a guy who’s 100% self-aware that he’s simping for his platoon commander’ – but in this AU, the Spartans’ lack of normal human socialisation has left him without any practical life experience of things like romance, so he’s just not quite able to put a name to those feelings. Yet, anyway.

As for Nate? I’ve been writing under the assumption that he is aware of his own feelings, but isn’t totally sure of Brad’s. I reckon he probably has a good enough read on Brad to at least suspect that Brad might reciprocate if made aware of the situation, but without any way to be certain, Nate’s unlikely to bring it up. Even I’m not fully decided on when Nate’s Moment of Realisation was. I do have a few ideas, but it’s not a detail that’s ever specifically relevant to the fic, so feel free to speculate.

In conclusion: …idk man, it’s been a year since I wrote this and I don’t completely hate it yet so. that’s probably a good sign, right? sorry for rambling it will happen again

#me 🤝 jen -> answering these like four days late #on the other hand it’s taken so long that ao3 is back up now. meaning interested parties can actually refer back to the fic #and (maybe. hopefully) figure out wtf oscar’s rambling about this time #thanks for enabling me though! i appreciate any opportunity to be completely incoherent #asks #oscar writes fic #valiant tag

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pierregazly · 1 month

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every lifetime with you ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x leclerc!f!reader

part 2 to but mama, i love him

warnings: charles is kind of ignorant (in a jerk big brother way), oscar is so disgustingly in love (aka tooth-rotting) [wc: 2.1k]

the one where oscar finally faces family dinner with the leclerc's... and it goes exactly how everyone expected. (oscar just really loves his girlfriend, and really doesn't care what her brother's say about it).

Sunday night dinners, when everyone was able to attend, were a staple in the Leclerc family home. Even as a young girl, one thing you always remembered was Pascale ensuring everyone promised to be home in time for dinner on Sunday. And of course, no one wanted to disappoint Maman.

Things had, of course, changed as Charles’ and Arthur’s involvement in motorsports grew, as Lorenzo became more involved in his own line of work. But you always put the effort in to make your way back to your childhood home, even if it was just Maman and yourself.

When Oscar slowly started integrating himself into your life, Pascale was the first person to find out; interrogating you over Sunday night dinner, learning everything she could about the young Australian who had taken over her only daughter’s heart. She always encouraged you to invite him to Sunday dinner, insisting that the boys would be on their best behaviour, and there would be no blood or tears shed - from anyone.

Which was exactly how you found yourself here, Oscar staring out at your childhood home, his hands steady with a tight grip on the steering wheel in front of him.

“Maman would not be too happy if you brought the steering wheel in with you. She doesn’t enjoy car talk on Sunday’s, mon amour,” you said, tapping one of his tense hands with a finger.

Unlacing his fingers from around the wheel, Oscar turned towards you with a timid smile.

“You see Charles weekly; you practically grew up alongside Artie. It’ll be fine, Osc.”

Shaking his head immediately, “I’m not concerned about your brothers. They don’t scare me.”

Quirking an eyebrow at him, your only response was a shrug of your shoulders as you pulled yourself up and out of the car. Following your lead, the two of you walked up the driveway, passing your brother’s cars in the process. Pushing open the front door, you were instantly greeted by the variety of smells that could usually be contributed to Sunday dinner, the aroma invading your nostrils and prompting a smile to pull across your lips.

Pascale Leclerc’s face greeted you the moment you turned the corner into the foyer, a happy grin across her lit up cheeks.

“Oh, mon bébé! Regarde comme tu es belle,” she said, wrapping her arms around you tightly. (Oh, my baby! Look at how beautiful you are.)

Eagerly wrapping your own arms around her, you inhaled her comforting scent, happy to be home and in the arms of the most important person in your life since birth.

Turning towards Oscar, the large smile on Pascale’s face did not waver. “Oscar, hello! It is so lovely to finally meet you.”

The moment of hesitation on Oscar’s part meant Pascale had already wrapped her arms around him before he could even blink, pressing a kiss to each cheek and then pulling back with a smile.

“Lovely to meet you as well, Mrs. Leclerc. Thank you for inviting me to dinner,” Oscar said.

Pascale waved him off, loud voices filtering into the foyer as the three Leclerc boys made their presence known.

“Regarde ce que le chat traînait,” Arthur said, his eyes pinning onto Oscar’s frame. (Look what the cat dragged in).

“Non, we will not be speaking French tonight. You know the rules. Do not be rude, Arthur,” Pascale admonished, sending a glare to her youngest son.

“What do the English say? Execution by fire? Best way for Oscar to learn, non?” Charles said, looking towards his brothers for confirmation.

Snorting at his words, “No, you idiot. It’s baptism by fire. Don’t be a jerk, Cha.”

His eyes swiveled over to meet yours, a mock glare present on his face. “Oh, I’m so sorry. My apologies, perhaps if I’d be able to speak French, I’d be able to use the actual sayings.”

Pascale’s glare whipped towards her middle son, her hand gently tapping on Oscar’s shoulder as she directed him towards the dining room.

“Charles Marc Hervé, I’d encourage you to watch your tone. Your ignorance is not appreciated, I’m sure your sister has already begun teaching Oscar French, you of all people should know it is not easy to learn a new language as a young man. Do not be rude.”

Almost immediately, the scolding evidently struck a chord in Charles, his cheeks brightening as he mumbled out an apology.

“Certaines choses ne changent jamais, hm, Charles?” you whispered in his direction, sticking your tongue out at him. (Some things never change, hm, Charles?)

“Ma petite fleur, don’t antagonize your brother.” Sticking his tongue back out at you in response, Charles skirted away as you moved your hand to smack his shoulder.

The table had been set like all previous Sundays before that, the only difference being the extra setup beside you, cutlery and plates laid out for the Australian’s benefit.

“Is there anything I can help with, Mrs. Leclerc?” Oscar said, ignoring Arthur as he silently imitated him, a grin falling onto your brother’s cheeks as he plopped down in his unofficial seat.

“Just Pascale, s’il vous plaît. And non, Alexandra and Charlotte kindly helped with everything already. You are too kind to offer, Oscar,” she responded, a large smile overtaking her lips.

“You are too kind to offer, Oscar.”

“Don’t be rude, Artie. Maman can still take you out of this world, right, Maman?”

Nodding her head in agreement, Pascale whacked the man in question over the head with a tea towel. Placing the final dish of food on the table, the matriarch of the Leclerc family gestured for everyone to sit, all remaining members of the room taking their seats.

The usual pre-dinner rituals were conducted, Oscar politely engaging in all of them to the best of his ability.

As the chatter began to pick up around the table, you could feel your anxiety spike every time your eyes wandered over to one of your brothers. For the fact two of them had driven alongside your brother more than once, all three eyed him up every opportunity they could.

“So, shall we discuss the elephant in the room?”

“Is it the toxic smell of your cologne, Cha? I’ve been wanting to talk about it for years,” you quipped.

Lorenzo stifled a snort at your words, shoving a spoonful of food into his mouth as he eyed the both of you.

“Shut up, you know what I mean. Oscar, what are your intentions? Is this some secret McLaren sabotage thing?”

You couldn’t tell if Charles was serious, your eyes widening as you scrambled for what to say in response.

“Not everything’s about racing, mate. I could care less about McLaren or Ferrari or whatever, when I’m with your sister. There’s more to life, evidently,” shrugging at his own words, Oscar continued to shovel food into his mouth.

You could barely contain the internal swooning at his words, your hand gently squeezing Oscar’s thigh as you smiled at him in response. Lightly squeezing your hand back, both of you looked up at the sound of a groan from across the table.

“This is going to make me throw up, truly. Maman, please let me speak French to articulate how disgusted I am at this,” Arthur mockingly gagged, his eyes pleading for his mother to accept his request.

Pascale ignored her youngest son’s dramatics, turning her head in Oscar’s direction instead.

“Oscar, dear… I’ve heard the story of how you and my daughter began dating from her view, I must hear it from yours as well. It’s such a lovely story,” Pascale practically cooed, prompting instant eye rolls from all her children sitting around the table.

“Yes, Oscar. Tell us all how you corrupted our sister. Please.”

The urge to hit both Arthur and Charles grew with every little quip and comment they felt necessary to make. Before you even had the opportunity to retaliate, you saw Charles wince, his head swiveling towards his girlfriend in dismay.

“Enough, mon amour. Tonight is not about you,” she said, a smile being directed towards you after the fact.

The Australian beside you cleared his throat before he began, gently squeezing your knee in the process.

“I’m sure she tells it far better than I do, but I can give it a whirl. Racing with Arthur for so long, I think we knew of each other but didn’t really… know each other? Obviously, we had run into each other at different racing events throughout the years and exchanged polite small talk, but it wasn’t really until the Monaco Grand Prix last year where we really had the opportunity to get to know each other.”

Oscar was quick to shovel more food into his mouth before continuing his story.

“I was trying to avoid all the interviewers and Sky Sports presenters on the Grid and ended up running right into her. All I knew is one second, I was running, next second I had barreled someone over and was holding their head from smacking against the concrete,” you could hear Alex and Charlotte cooing out soft ‘aw’s’ from their side of the table at his words.

“Thank those quick driver reflexes, hm?” Arthur joked. Multiple heads around the table nodded in response.

“I guess it sort of went from there. She, of course, had to give me a hard time for trying to ‘kill her’ as she so kindly says all the time. I offered to make it up to her... we ended up going for dinner after the race, and I suppose the rest is history. Thank God for Monaco, of course.”

“Oh, so you’re the reason my sister didn’t attend family dinner after I got knocked down for supposedly impeding your teammate?” Charles quipped.

Huffing towards your brother, before you even got the chance to snap at him, you were cut off.

“Charles, shut up. We didn’t have family dinner after Monaco, you were miserable and I’m pretty sure you said some very nasty things to our family group chat which almost had Maman in tears. We didn’t have family dinner for weeks after that, so shut up, and let Oscar finish his story. Merde,” Lorenzo said, shooting a glare towards his youngest brother.

Oscar looked towards you, silently questioning whether he should continue or not. Squeezing his knee in confirmation again, the Australian continued.

“She ended up coming to visit me during summer break, and things became official from there. It’s been the best seven months of my life, I couldn’t imagine my life without that day in Monaco, now,” he looked towards you as he finished his story, a soft smile on his lips as you looked back at him adoringly.

“I’d let you run me over in every lifetime, mon amour.”

The two of you were caught in your own little world, your eyes locked on one another’s, small smiles gracing both of your lips. Missing the small look between your mother and brothers, Charles begrudgingly accepting defeat, Arthur eager to find some way to make a joke at the expense of both of you, Lorenzo simply content to see his baby sister happy.

Maman, though... the sheer delight was evident in her eyes, a small sheen covering them and her lash line as she watched the two of you silently interact.

The night continued, the honeymoon phase between you and Oscar so obvious, so prominent. He took advantage of any chance he could get to press a kiss to your head, to your head, to your cheeks, and especially to your lips. All respectfully, of course, but he couldn’t take his eyes or hands off you.

Charles took his chance to corner the younger driver, threatening a world of hurt and sabotage if anything were to ever happen to you, physically or emotionally. Oscar’s nonchalant response of “Yes, alright mate. Whatever you say, of course,” further antagonized your brother.

It was Maman’s acceptance that Oscar was most concerned about though, eagerly asking you once the two of you were back in his car, whether you thought she liked him. You were positive the answer was a resounding yes, especially after watching Pascale squeeze him tightly in a hug, pressing a kiss to each cheek again – and then proceeding to whisper in your ear how happy she was that you had found a man who loved you so incredibly much.

Later that night, when both of you were curled up in bed, your legs intertwined, and your head pressed against his chest, his heart beating below your ear... you knew. There was no place you would rather be. No person you would rather be in love with or loved by.

“In every lifetime, Osc, I want to be the person you’re in love with. Promise me that I will be?”

“I already promised you every lifetime, mon amour. I will choose you, always.”

sorry but oscar is absolutely the one guy on the grid who loves his girlfriend so much and would probably actually die for her... so he's a total simp and would take on all three of the leclerc brother's for lerclerc!reader.

anyways i hope you guys loved this, as much as i loved writing it 🫶🏻

as always, my requests are currently closed but if you have any recommendations for things you'd like for me to write... i'm happy to take them on. please feel free to interact with me whenever you want also!!

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #mclaren #f1 #formula 1 #my writing #fic #imagine #f1 fanfic

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pitinthelanepages · 11 months

Text

Scouts Honour

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: having to deal with drunk boyfriend oscar as the not so girly girlfriend who was in the middle of trying on a dress

genre: fluff

The sun began its descent, casting a warm golden glow that illuminated the room in a gentle radiance. You stood in front of the full-length mirror in your modest yet cosy apartment, a hint of uncertainty tugging at you as you held a delicate dress in your hands.

Your wardrobe predominantly consisted of hoodies, loose-fitting trousers, and comfortable sneakers. But today was different. Today, you had dared to venture into uncharted territory; an elegant dress you had impulsively bought. Its fabric, a silky cascade of midnight blue, shimmered with a touch of moonlit enchantment. You couldn't resist imagining yourself stepping into a world of elegance and grace.

With a mixture of anticipation and trepidation, you gingerly slipped into the dress, its smooth texture gliding against your skin like a whisper. You studied your reflection, the dress clinging to your figure, hugging curves you often concealed. The woman in the mirror looked foreign, yet undeniably radiant, your tousled hair adding a touch of untamed beauty to the overall ensemble.

Just as you were beginning to embrace this unfamiliar sight, your phone rang, jolting you from your reverie. You glanced at the screen, recognizing the caller ID: a group of friends who frequented the same club as your boyfriend, Oscar Piastri. Curiosity mingled with concern as you answered the call, their voices pouring through the receiver.

"Hey. It's us," one of the friends chimed, their words accompanied by a mix of laughter and urgency. "Oscar's had a bit too much to drink, and we need you to come pick him up. Can you make it?"

Your heart skipped a beat as a whirlwind of emotions surged within you; worry for Oscar's well-being, a sense of responsibility, and the need to be there for him. Without hesitation, you replied, your voice steady despite the slight tremor beneath the surface.

"Of course, I'll be there. Give me a few minutes, and I'll head over."

As you hung up the phone, your mind raced. You had no time to change out of the dress, to revert to your usual attire that would blend seamlessly with your usual identity. But there was no turning back now. You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to embrace this unexpected turn of events.

With newfound determination, you slipped on a pair of simple yet elegant heels, their presence a stark contrast to your typical footwear choices. You grabbed your keys, pausing for a brief moment to study your reflection once more. Your pulse quickened as you admired the reflection of the woman standing before you; someone both familiar and unknown, bridging the gap between your usual spirit and the allure of femininity.

As you arrived at the club, the rhythmic pulse of music reverberated through the air, sending tremors of anticipation cascading down your spine. You made your way through the crowd, navigating the sea of bodies, each step echoing the beat of your heart. And then, there he was.

Your eyes met, and an undeniable spark danced between you. Your heart skipped a beat as you saw Oscar's surprise and shyness in his gaze. He looked at you with a newfound appreciation, as if seeing you in a whole new light. You couldn't help but feel a blush creep onto your cheeks.

Approaching Oscar and his friends, your voice rang out, laced with a playful yet confident tone. "Hey there, troublemaker. Ready to go home?"

Oscar's friends exchanged amused glances, nudging him gently as they handed him over to you. His shyness grew apparent as he tried to hide behind them, a hint of bashfulness colouring his features. You couldn't help, but find him utterly endearing.

Gently, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his arm, a gentle reassurance amidst the crowd. "It's me, Oscar. Your girlfriend. I'm here to take care of you."

In that moment, Oscar's eyes lit up, and a warmth enveloped him. He pulled you into a tight embrace, refusing to let go. His grip conveyed a mixture of vulnerability and adoration, a silent gratitude for your presence.

As you wrapped your arm around Oscar's waist, you could feel the weight of his head resting against your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your neck.

Oscar's voice slurred as he mumbled, "You're so pretty. I've never seen you in a dress before."

You chuckled softly, your voice tinged with affection. "Well, surprises are good, aren't they? Thought I'd switch things up tonight."

Oscar's fingers traced gentle circles on your back, his touch igniting a cascade of sensations within you. "You look amazing, babe. Can't take my eyes off you."

Your cheeks flushed as you replied, "You're just saying that because you've had a few drinks."

"Nah, it's true," Oscar insisted, his voice filled with earnestness. "You're like a beautiful dream come true."

With each giggle that escaped your lips, a delicate melody of joy filled the air. The sound was contagious, eliciting smiles from bystanders and lightening the heavy atmosphere. You couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the sight of Oscar, his shy yet adoring gaze fixed upon you.

You whispered playfully, "What's gotten into you, Oscar? I've never seen you so shy."

He chuckled softly, the sound tinged with embarrassment. "Guess you just caught me off guard, seeing you all dolled up like this. Didn't know my tomboyish girlfriend could look so stunning."

You emerged from the club's entrance into the cool night air. The touch of Oscar's fingers against your back, as if seeking solace in your presence, resonated deeply within you.

Oscar's voice carried a hint of vulnerability. "Thank you for being here for me. I feel safe with you."

Your grip tightened, your voice filled with warmth. "Always, Oscar. That's what partners do. We take care of each other."

As you finally reached the car, you gently guided Oscar into the passenger seat, his clinginess not relenting. You settled in behind the wheel, your fingers brushing against his cheek in a tender gesture before starting the engine. The touch of your fingers interlaced on the gear shift filled the car with warmth.

Oscar's voice was soft, almost childlike. "Don't let go of me. I don't want this night to end."

You smiled, your voice filled with reassurance. "I won't, Oscar. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

And as you drove towards Oscar's apartment, the quiet hum of the engine providing a soothing backdrop, you couldn't help but steal glances at him. His head leaned against the window, his eyes drifting in and out of focus. It was evident that the alcohol had taken its toll on him, and your heart swelled with a mix of tenderness and concern.

Once you arrived at his apartment building, you helped Oscar out of the car, his unsteady steps mirroring the vulnerability he exhibited. You both slowly made your way to his apartment, you supporting him every step of the way, your touch a gentle reassurance amidst the haze of intoxication.

Finally inside, you guided Oscar towards his bedroom, your movements unhurried and filled with a sense of care. You eased him down onto the edge of the bed, his legs dangling off the side. His gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes reflecting a deep admiration that made your heart flutter.

Bashfully, you averted your eyes, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Oscar, you should really get some rest. I'll help you get ready for bed."

Oscar's grip tightened around your wrist, his gaze still intense. "Don't leave. Stay with me."

Your cheeks flushed, and you could feel your pulse quicken at his words. You swallowed nervously, voice barely above a whisper. "I... I can't stay the whole night. But I'll make sure you're comfortable before I go."

Oscar reluctantly released his hold on your wrist as you crouched down to untie his shoes. You carefully slipped them off, placing them neatly beside the bed. Then, you stood up, your eyes meeting Oscar's once more.

"You should take off your shirt too, Oscar," you suggested softly. "You'll sleep more comfortably without it."

Oscar's gaze never wavered as he nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Okay, but only if you stay with me."

You rolled your eyes playfully, a mixture of shyness and affection colouring your expression. "Fine, but no staring this time."

With a mischievous grin, Oscar lied down on the bed, watching intently as you pulled the duvet over him, ensuring he was snug and warm. You lingered for a moment, your hand brushing gently against his cheek, your touch tender and reassuring.

Just as you were about to turn off the bedside lamp, Oscar's hand shot out, clasping around your wrist. His gaze held a silent plea, an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. Your voice caught in your throat, your eyes widening slightly.

"Oscar, I really have to go now," you stammered, your shyness evident in your tone. "I can't sleep in this dress."

A mischievous twinkle flickered in Oscar's eyes as he chuckled softly. "Well, you can borrow one of my shirts. It'll be oversized for you anyway, and you'll be more comfortable."

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating his offer. The thought of wearing one of Oscar's shirts felt strangely intimate, like borrowing a piece of his world. But as your gaze met his, the genuine affection in his eyes, you made up your mind.

"Alright," you finally replied, your voice filled with a mix of shyness and trust. "But you have to close your eyes. No peeking."

Oscar grinned mischievously, closing his eyes obediently. You turned towards his wardrobe, searching for a shirt that would fit your frame. You found a white shirt, soft and well-worn, with the faint scent of Oscar's cologne lingering on the fabric.

As you slipped off your dress and replaced it with his shirt, you couldn't help but feel a surge of vulnerability. The shirt engulfed you, the sleeves extending past your fingertips, the hem falling to your mid-thigh. It was an intimate gesture, an exchange of comfort and trust between them.

With a quick glance at Oscar, your cheeks reddened as you mumbled, "I'm changing here, but you better keep your eyes closed."

Oscar's lips curled into a playful grin as he responded, "Scouts honour. Not peeking."

Once you were dressed, you turned off the bedside lamp, casting the room into a soft, dim glow. With a playful roll of your eyes, you returned to the bed, slipping beneath the covers. You settled beside Oscar, your bodies inches apart.

As you closed your eyes, ready to drift into sleep, a gentle whisper escaped your lips. "Goodnight, Oscar."

His hand found yours, intertwining your fingers as he replied softly, "Goodnight, babe. Thank you for taking care of me."

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 writing #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri scenario #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fanfic

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keerysfreckles · 1 month

Text

she's american — OP81 (smau)

pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!fem!reader

summary: oscar falls in love with his best friends sister

warnings: none!

a/n: landoscar podium this weekend i can feel it 🤞 (sos im too delulu rn)

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 199,046 others

y/n_sargeant does my brother race in mclaren? no! was i in the mclaren garage all weekend? yes! oscarpiastri, landonorris

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user1 y/n feeding us with landoscar content once again 🙏🙏

mclaren come back anytime 🧡

y/n_sargeant idk how logan will feel about that 💔💔

user2 the mclaren it girl

user3 the caption im 😭😭

logansargent so this is where you were all weekend?!

y/n_sargeant well yes! 🤭

oscarpiastri lovely seeing you again y/n!

user4 lando's pose is so cute he's never beating the babygirl allegations

williamsracing come home we miss you 💔

y/n_sargeant i'll be back next weekend (per logans request)

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by alex_albon, williamsracing and 203,189 others

y/n_sargeant hung out with the better williams driver this week 🐬🌺🐛☀️ alex_albon

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alex_albon I HAD A BLAST Y/N!!!!!

y/n_sargeant AHH ME TOO A!!!!!!!!!

user1 aw the matching snorkel pics 😭😭

user2 THE BETTER WILLIAMS DRIVER PLS SHE DID NOT HOLD BACK

logansargeant YOU HUNG OUT WITHOUT ME?????

y/n_sargeant not the first time baby bro 🤷🏼‍♀️

logansargeant y/n we're twins...

y/n_sargeant yeah but i'm older 😁

logansargeant BY TWO MINUTES

landonorris did you keep the sand dollar i gave you 🥺🥺🥺

y/n_sargeant of course 🤗

loganaargeant LANDO WENT TOO??????

user3 uh oh logans in his temper tantrum era

oscarpiastri petiton to go on more trips without logan

logansargeant i'm done.

user4 PLS OSCAR BEING ON Y/NS SIDE

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 329,177 others

y/n_sargeant i missed the mclaren garage 🧡 oscarpiastri

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user1 OSCAR CONTENT!!!!!!!!!

user2 notice how they're all just of oscar......

mclaren oh how we've missed you 🧡🧡

y/n_sargeant i've missed you more 🥹

user3 y/n can you boop oscars nose for me thanks 🤞🏻

oacarpiastri how many random photos do you even have of me

y/n_sargeant too many to count......

landonorris chat y/n couldn't stop following osc around all weekend it was adorable

y/n_sargeant LANDO SHUT YOUR MOUTH

user4 oscar looking at y/n in the first pic :((

oscarpiastri just posted !

liked by landonorris, y/n_sargeant and 570,324 others

oscarpiastri skipped the grid dinner to be with her ❤️

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user1 OSCAR SOFT LAUNCH ERA???????

user2 HE CARRIED HER HEELS FOR HER I REPEAT HE CARRIED HER HEELS FOR HER

landonorris do i know the lucky gal 🤨🤨

oscarpiastri maybe

user3 is that y/n??????? i thought she was blonde?????

user4 im being delulu and saying she dyed it 🤞

logansargeant oscar answer your phone.

alex_albon double date when 😁😁

mclaren the only acceptable reason to skip a grid dinner

oscarpiastri can i miss next weeks dinner as well..?

user5 y/n being in the likes but not the comments.. hmmmm

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon and 319,622 others

y/n_sargeant brunettes have more fun! 🤎🧸

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user1 oh girly is brave for posting this after oscars post last night

alex_albon we basically just switched hair colors 😁😁

mclaren orange looks better with brown hair anyway 😉

user2 oscar being in the likes and not the comments this time...........

user3 they're being too sneaky i fear

landonorris I'VE CONVERTED YOU 🙌🏽

y/n_sargeant i cannot confirm or deny

user4 OKAY POP OFF Y/N!!!!!

logansargeant i could've helped dye it ☹️

y/n_sagreant we both know you would've messed it up

imessage !

oacarpiastri just posted !

liked by y/n_sargeant, landonorris and 881,320 others

oscarpiastri girlfriend gave me permission to hard launch ❤️❤️ y/n_sargeant

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user1 THE FIRST PIC HELLO???????????

user2 im still not over the dinner post 😭😭😭😭😭😭

y/n_sargeant oh i look good in the second slide 🤩🤩

oscarpiastri ikr! 😘

mclaren best f1 couple out there 😍🧡

landonorris i can hear logan screaming from his hotel room.......

oscarpiastri oh god

y/n_sargeant even after we told him earlier.. 🤦🏻‍♀️

user3 one thing about oscar, he loves taking pics of y/n getting ready

user4 ABSOLUTE CUTIES UGH

y/n_sargeant just posted !

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 500,439 others

y/n_sargeant i love my boyfriend ❤️ (logan pls ignore this thanks xx) oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri i love my girlfriend ❤️

user1 oh the hard launch is hard launching 😖

user2 Y/NOSCAR GIRLIES HAVENT BEEN DELUSIONAL !!!!!!!!!

logansargeant i'm happy for you y/n :) and i guess oscar 🙄

y/n_sargeant awwww logie bear 🥹🥹

logansargeant i thought we'd never bring that name up again

oscarpiastri hey logie bear 😁

user3 all the oscar content we're gonna get now omg..

user4 so is y/n gonna be in mclarens garage again this weekend???

user5 camermans gonna love zooming in on y/n right after showing oscar driving i just know it

landonorris so you take my best friend and my boyfriend????

y/n_sargeant yeah basically 🤗

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f1version · 7 months

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HERE WITH ME ★ OP81

pairing: oscar piastri x childhood friend!gf!reader ( she/her )

summary: You, Oscar’s girlfriend (and former best friend), has supported him no matter what. Here are some of your best (twitter) moments!

or this request

notes: for some reason this is what i thought of while listening to that song. it’s all a vibe, it’s osc celebration time.

2k celebration ★ navigation

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struggling-with-drivers · 6 months

Text

No Red Flags - Oscar Piastri

⋗ Pairing - Oscar Piastri x Mechanical Engineering Student!reader

⋗ Summary - Oscar comes crashes back into your life, quite literally when he barrels you down on the paddock, bringing with him all types of unwanted feelings and a whole slew of problems.

⋗ Word count - 11.2k words, fluff, Oscar being emotionally unavailable

⋗ Masterlist - requests are open, I hope y'all don't mind this long fic, this was a reminder to myself that I hate type-setting texting, feedback and reblogs are appreciated

Oscar has never been the type to keep a girl for long, a mix of not having the time, and focusing all his efforts on karting, which has finally turned fruitful and given him a contract in F1.

A series of events has led him to exchange the girl on his arm just twice this year, one for another. His feelings just seemed to change, he tells you.

And you? You aren't much better, never able to hold onto a relationship, never falling fast, but always falling hard. The havoc the last guy left you in is still fresh in your mind, even if the guy isn't.

You're doing your internship at McLaren for their mechanical engineering department, and Oscar is in and out of the factory constantly to get ready for his debut next year. There aren't a lot of people around your age in the department, most are a lot more than a few years older. You would be as well if you managed to get a job when you're done with your master's. But that is years into the future, and you’re still writing your bachelor's.

It leaves Oscar to gravitate towards you, still not used to all the people constantly trying to get him to do this, do that, stand here, stand there. You're asking none of those things of him, mostly because you're stressed out of your mind with the looming deadline, and that you know you're behind on your bachelor.

But you get talking, a few words at first, which turns to exchanging weekend stories, turns to deep conversations when you're the only ones left in the department that one Tuesday afternoon. And you show him what you've been working on for your bachelor.

Oscar is intrigued, seemingly asking the right questions, admitting he would probably have been an engineer if he hadn't become a driver.

You mention offhand that you don't want to go home because you have to eat leftovers again, and Oscar pipes up with "I like food."

"What?"

"I like food, I can eat the last of your leftovers."

The already long Tuesday turns longer as you find yourself heating pasta and tomato sauce for this guy. Both are things that are definitely not on his dietary plan, but you're not complaining. Just happy to finally be rid of the last of your leftovers from the week before.

Oscar starts to talk about himself and tells you he used to go to boarding school, and you slowly realise you have quite a few things in common as the evening progresses. You tell him about your own short stint at a boarding school while your parents lived abroad. When the topic comes to past partners, Oscar tells you of how he kind of met his current girlfriend while being with his past one, how that was a dick move that he broke up with her 2 weeks after telling his ex that he was up for the long distance.

You tell him of the guy that fucked you up, how he had promised the world, only to go ahead and break your heart, and like a fool, you had taken him back when he apologised, only for him to go ahead and cheat on you, not just 1, not 2, but 3 times within the summer months. How he had wrecked your self-esteem, as he hadn't left quietly but wanted to tear you down as he left your world.

Then you sober up a bit and ask Oscar "Does your girlfriend know that you're here?"

Oscar shrugs, and goes "She doesn't have to if you don't tell her." The air shifts and it all feels wrong. He is sitting too close. You’re feeling nervous. A look of worry flashes on his face. You tell him he should get going.

“It's getting late, and I have work early in the morning.”

Oscar doesn't understand why you're kicking him out, and why you've suddenly closed yourself back up.

Once you've practically shoved him out of the door, you realise that you've fucked up. That was not what was meant to happen. That was not how you needed the last few weeks of your internship to be used.

But here you are, with Oscar in your vicinity at work, and he’s not understanding why you're so curt with him, why you aren't having the same kind of conversations with him anymore. And then one day you're gone, and he's told that your internship is over.

You become a passing thought in his head, and he becomes a distant memory in yours, something that happened during your internship.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

2 years later, you’re in the beginning stages of your master's degree. Oscar has had an amazing first year driving for McLaren and is still living his best life, although his relationships only seem to become even more short-lived than the last one. His current girl won't stick around for long, he knows this, it doesn't take an intellect to see that she's here for the travels and followers she gets on Instagram, and Oscar doesn't really care.

But then he sees you in Silverstone, at least he thinks he does. He tries to unsubtly turn around and walk past the Mercedes garage again. Instead, he ends up turning around and just staring straight into the group of students who are talking to the engineers. And sure enough, right by the group of guys you stick out.

"Oscar, what are you doing?" The PR manager asks, "We have places to be."

"Uh, yes, coming." Oscar turns away and catches back up.

"If you're going to steal secrets, don't do it so obviously,” his PR manager jokes, before rambling on about all the interviews he has to do after free practice today.

Oscar doesn't get why he can't get the image of you out of his head. He had honestly forgotten about you, but here you are, wearing Mercedes clothes, and for some reason, it unnerves him. You had always worn your own clothes or something with McLaren branding back 2 years ago. But now you're sporting an ever-usual ponytail and Mercedes clothes.

You stroll past the McLaren garage, hopeful to spot familiar faces from your internship. Instead, you find yourself halting, taking a moment to point out details on the car that you saw being worked on to your classmate – a reminiscent gesture from your internship at the McLaren factory. Unintentionally, your eyes briefly catch Oscar's. Witnessing a moment of hesitation, he pauses his conversation with Lando Norris, the first seater at McLaren. Choosing to move forward, you leave the scene as Patrick wants to see the Red Bull team before the qualifier kicks off.

Instead, Oscar comes barrelling out of the garage, yelling your name after you, causing you to flinch and stop. You turn around slowly, fully aware of the hundreds of eyes that have turned onto you.

"Hey." Oscar breathes out, his lips gracing a small smile.

"Hi?" You question back before your classmate sticks his hand out.

"Hello! I'm Patrick," your classmate says, waiting for Oscar to take his hand, and a few seconds too long passes before Oscar does.

"I'm Oscar, the driver for McLaren."

Patrick smiles wide, "I know! Can I take a picture with you? I'm sorry, I've just been a massive fan the last few years, tried to get in to write my master's degree but there weren't any slots open for our year and-"

"Yeah, sure." Oscar cuts him off, with a nod and a pr practised smile. Patrick fishes out his phone and quickly makes you snap a picture of the two.

"Thank you so much!" Your last lifeline, says as he's hurrying down the paddock ready to brag that he got a picture with Oscar Piastri.

"I thought you were a McLaren fan at heart." He tries to joke, as you shrug your shoulders.

"You heard him, there weren't any spots for our year, and I was lucky to get a foot in the door at Mercedes. I wasn't going to turn that down,” you tell him, looking around awkwardly, fully aware of how it looks to have what looks like a Mercedes engineer talking to the McLaren driver.

"You could have asked me?" The two of you aren't sure who's the most surprised by those words. Oscar for saying them, or you for hearing them.

"What?"

"I mean, you could have, eh, asked me?" Oscar realises how it sounds as he tries to defend his previous question. How could you even do that? You two never exchanged info, you were only friendly at work, and then you just stopped talking to each other.

"I will... I will keep that in mind?" You say although it comes out as another question, the surrounding air is turning awkward, and you know you should probably leave. "I will see you around. I just have things to do, and you know, Mercedes... Yes." You make a weird hand gesture before hurrying off down the paddock.

Oscar waves after you awkwardly, before stopping himself, realising that you aren't turning around to look at him.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The next time you see Oscar, it’s a lot less you see him, and much more you barely hear him calling out your name before he rams straight into you, sending both of you tumbling to the asphalt of the paddock.

“I’m so sorry!” Oscar is quick to apologise, as you’re trying to untangle yourself from the surprise attack. “Hello to you too.” You run a hand over your left elbow, you’ve scraped it. Oscar finally gets up on his feet, staring at you as you sit on the ground. “If I get blood on my shirt, I’m definitely sending you the invoice.”

You crack a small smile at his dumbfounded look, nodding to his hand before he reaches forward and you grab it. You let him help you up.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to catch you before you were gone,” Oscar repeats himself. “I wasn’t sure if I was going to get the chance to give you my number.” He hands over a piece of paper. Chicken scratches in a surprisingly neat row, spelling out what you can barely decipher as a phone number.

“Thank you… Oscar?”

He smiles for a moment before the silence falls and his face seems to as well. He’s openly searching for a response, and you aren’t sure what it is. Apparently, thanking him wasn’t what he was hoping for.

You bite your tongue, before sighing. “You shouldn’t hand out your number to other girls when you’re in a relationship.”

Oscar blinks at you, “I’m not?”

“Then what about her?” You nod at the girl standing by the garage, wearing a hoodie with Oscar’s number on it. She’s looking more and more uncomfortable by the second as Oscar turns around and looks at her.

“Oh that… Yeah.” Oscar shrugs. It sends a shiver down your spine, his dismissal tone mixed with his indifferent facial expression. All of it screaming to you, he’s a walking red flag. Don’t do this to yourself.

You take a step back, your scraped elbow forgotten in the sudden surge of discomfort.

"Yeah," you manage to mumble, not wanting to linger any longer in this awkward exchange. You glance at the girl by the garage, whose eyes briefly meet yours before she looks away. It's clear she's caught in the middle of something she probably didn't sign up for.

"I... I thought..." Oscar stammers, seemingly at a loss for words.

You shake your head, deciding it is best not to delve into the intricacies of his personal life. "It doesn't matter. I have to go," you say, tucking the paper with his number into your pocket, the weight of it feeling surprisingly heavy.

As you walk away, you can't help but replay the brief encounter in your mind. It's a strange mix of nostalgia, irritation, and a newfound realisation that some things never really change. Oscar seems to be stuck in the same patterns, and you don't want to be a part of that cycle.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

Days pass, and you find yourself torn between dialling the number and simply discarding it. The rational part of your mind screams at you to let it go, but there's a small, persistent voice that wonders if people can truly change. Another one telling you that you won’t be part of whatever cycle he’s going through if you just keep him at arm's length.

Eventually, curiosity gets the better of you, and you type in his number. Chuckling to yourself at his contact name, before you decide to send a brief text.

You: Hey finally deciphered your chicken scratches how have you been?

The response is almost immediate.

Os🚗: Hey! I've been good. Any invoices I need to pay? You: Invoices? Os🚗: Yeah, for your team shirt, I know the first few ones are special. You: Ah no got it out with cold water and soap You: Thanks for that btw

You wait a minute before sending another text.

You: My elbow is all healed up as well Os🚗: Good to hear 👍 You: You text like my dad Os🚗: 👎 You: Skill issue

You laugh to yourself, before realising half your lecture is now looking at you. It pulls you right back to reality. You only texted him because it seemed slightly more fun than listening to a guest lecture on spring physics.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The days pass, and your interactions with Oscar continue sporadically through text. The initial awkwardness fades, replaced by a casual banter that surprises you. It's almost as if the past is being overwritten by a new script, one in which you're just two acquaintances catching up.

Yet, in the back of your mind, the warning signs still linger. The memory of that awkward encounter with the girl by the garage and Oscar's dismissive attitude towards her. Then add on all those years ago in your apartment where he told you to keep quiet, it all sits as a constant reminder. You find yourself treading carefully, keeping the conversations light and steering clear of anything that could lead to future problems.

As you're scrolling through your phone during a break, TikTok seems to think you’ve found a sudden interest in the edits of Oscar. A notification pops up. It's a message from the man of the hour.

Os🚗: Hey, I have a weekend off, and Lando has me coming to the UK. Do you have time to meet for some time?

You hesitate, considering the invitation. A part of you is curious about how a casual meeting would unfold, but another part is wary. Oscar has been very clear in every single one of your interactions that he wants to get closer to you, in a way that’s intruding on all your thoughts, will only bring you trouble, unwanted complications, and unneeded problems. You know he will try to mask any advantages with the simple gesture of just wanting to be friends.

But friends don’t look at each other the way Oscar looks at you, and it’s weird, you don’t want to find out why he does look at you like that.

You: Thanks for the offer but I've got plans this weekend. Maybe some other time

Oscar's response is swift.

Os🚗: No problem. Just let me know when you're free.

When you’re free? You really shouldn’t, you absolutely shouldn’t be considering it.

As the days pass, you find yourself contemplating the situation. The cautious voice in your head warns against getting too involved, while the curious side wonders if people truly can change. It's a delicate balance, and you're not sure which way to lean.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The allure of a face-to-face meeting lingers, but so does the memory of that uncomfortable encounter at the paddock. Oscar keeps pestering you through texts as the months pass, you’re making up excuses as you go, yet your reasoning keeps running thinner until you’re left with nothing to justify your rejections.

You're sipping coffee and reviewing some notes, as your phone buzzes with a call from Oscar. Why would he be calling you, he never calls, he only ever texts in that dad-type of way. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you answer.

"Hey, it's Oscar."

A small laugh slips past your lips, "Yeah, I know, caller ID was invented half a century ago."

"McLaren has me in London, well, south of it, and I was thinking we could grab a coffee or something. Face-to-face, you know?"

“Oscar… Why are you so insistent?” The question blurts out of you before you seem to realise you actually said it out loud.

“Because we’re friends?” It’s meant to sound like an answer, but to you, it sounds like he’s inquiring about the most obvious thing in the world. And for a moment you feel like an asshole.

A small moment of weakness shows in the way you say, “I don’t have the time to come to London, but if you find yourself in Brackley on Thursday.”

You never mention a time or a place, yet he agrees so easily, and you wonder if you’re going to regret this.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

Thursday arrives, and you’re nervously glancing at the clock as the appointed time approaches. Your work at Mercedes keeps you occupied, but there's a subtle anticipation building in the background. The decision to meet Oscar has left you in a state of conflicting emotions, and you're not entirely sure what to expect.

As the clock strikes the start of your lunch break, you're surprised to see Oscar approaching the entrance of the Mercedes facility. His casual demeanour contrasts with the high-security surroundings, but he seems unfazed. You meet him at the entrance, exchanging a brief nod.

"Hey," he greets you with a warm smile.

"Hey," you reply, feeling a mix of uncertainty and curiosity.

Oscar suggests grabbing a coffee from a nearby café, and you agree yet again. The conversation flows more smoothly than you anticipated. It's easy and casual, and you're reminded of the times when you first met at McLaren. The awkwardness seems to have dissipated, replaced by a shared understanding of each other's worlds.

As you discuss work, life, and everything in between, you notice a genuine interest in Oscar's eyes. It's a stark contrast to the distant look he had during your internship. Maybe people can change, you think, or at least, they can show different sides of themselves.

As the coffee date comes to an end, you both stand outside the café. There's a moment of silence, and you can sense a question lingering in the air.

"Look," Oscar starts, "I know things got weird back then, and I probably should've been more upfront. I just want you to know that I genuinely enjoyed our conversations, and I'd like to keep talking, don’t… run away again, please."

You appreciate his honesty, and for a moment, you contemplate sharing your reservations. But you decide against it, choosing instead to take things one step at a time.

"I appreciate that, Oscar," you reply, offering a small smile. "But let's just see where things go."

The two of you part ways, and you can't deny the subtle warmth that lingers. Maybe, just maybe, this time around will be different. As you return to your work at Mercedes, you can't help but wonder how the next chapter of your story with Oscar will unfold.

That voice in the back of your head is screaming that Oscar is going to cause you problems, yet you can’t help but feel a bit giddy. And as much as you know you should agree, you find yourself ignoring it.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

You're not quite sure how Oscar ended up in your apartment once again, however, you can not find it in yourself to complain. Nor do you want him to leave. The smile that rests on his lips has your heart fluttering, despite your mind knowing Oscar is nothing but trouble.

The soft hum of a familiar tune plays in the background as you move around your kitchen, gathering ingredients for a simple pasta dish. Oscar sits at the small dining table, watching with genuine interest as you go about your culinary routine.

"Do you cook often?" he asks, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

You chuckle, glancing over your shoulder. "Well, I try. It's therapeutic, you know? I want to say it's cheaper, but we both know in this economy nothing is cheap."

Oscar smiles, appreciating the casual atmosphere that envelops your apartment. The aroma of garlic and tomatoes begins to fill the air as you start chopping vegetables.

"Need any help?" he offers, standing up and joining you at the counter.

You hand him a knife and a bell pepper. "How about you tackle this? Just chop it into small pieces."

Oscar nods, mimicking your chopping technique. The rhythmic sound of knives against cutting boards fills the kitchen, creating a comforting melody. As you work side by side, a gentle ease settles between you.

"So," Oscar begins, breaking the silence, "what's the secret ingredient in this pasta?"

You wink playfully. "That's a trade secret. But I'll give you a hint – it starts with 'herbs.'"

He laughs, and the genuine warmth in the sound makes your heart flutter. As the vegetables sizzle in the pan, you find yourself caught in the simplicity of the moment. The soft glow of the kitchen lights, the shared laughter, and the anticipation of a homemade meal create a cocoon of tranquillity.

Once the pasta is perfectly al dente, you drain it and add it to the simmering sauce. Oscar takes a step closer, his eyes fixed on the creation taking shape before him.

"Looks delicious," he remarks.

You grin, handing him a fork. "The real test is in the taste."

Together, you sit at the table, savouring each bite of the pasta. The flavours dance on your taste buds, and you can't help but appreciate the quiet joy of sharing a meal you have prepared together.

The dinner table is adorned with the remnants of the delicious pasta, and the two of you sit comfortably, basking in the warmth of shared food and easy conversation. The soft glow of the kitchen lights casts a cosy ambience.

Oscar looks at you, a gentle smile on his face. "This is really good, you know. You've got some serious cooking skills. It's even better than last time when I got to eat your leftovers."

You return the smile, appreciating the compliment. "Thanks, Oscar. I'm glad you like it."

There's a brief pause, and Oscar's expression becomes more contemplative. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you reply, taking a sip of your drink.

Oscar hesitates for a moment before speaking. "I've noticed that things have been a bit... different between us. You seem to be, I don't know, running away or avoiding me. Did I do something wrong?"

You take a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "It's not that you did something wrong, Oscar. It's just that... it feels like you're set on making things complicated for me."

His brow furrows in confusion. "Complicated? What do you mean?"

You chuckle, a hint of irony in your tone. "Oscar, you're a walking enigma. You come into my life, seemingly wanting to be friends, and then there's this underlying tension, this feeling that you're here to stir up trouble."

He looks genuinely perplexed. "Trouble? I don't want to cause trouble for you. I just want to get to know you better."

You meet his gaze, sincerity in your eyes. "I appreciate that, but there are moments when it feels like you're intentionally making things challenging. Like you enjoy the chaos."

Oscar leans back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I genuinely don't want to complicate things for you. If there's something I'm doing that makes you uncomfortable, please let me know."

You sigh, realising the complexity of the situation. "Let's not dwell on it too much. It's just a feeling I get sometimes."

He seems about to press further, but you change the topic with a light laugh. "Anyway, did I tell you about the time I accidentally set off the fire alarm at University? We were trying to test out this new engine, but it caught on fire. Disaster in the garage, trust me."

Oscar chuckles along, as you make a point to ignore the way he's staring at you. You can feel his eyes searching for your face for something you won't give to him. Instead, deep inside of you, you realise that little voice in your head has been quiet the entire time Oscar has been in your apartment.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

You’re neglecting your book about fluid physics as you and Oscar are talking over Facetime. The idea of going clubbing has just been tossed into the conversation, and Oscar, ever the persuader, leans closer to the camera with a playful glint in his eyes.

"Come on," he says, a charming smile playing on his lips. "Even university students need a break, you know? It's all about finding the right balance between work and play."

You raise an eyebrow, sceptical but intrigued. "Balance, huh? I do have assignments due next week."

Oscar chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "And that's precisely why you should take a break. Trust me, a night of dancing and fun is the perfect way to recharge those academic batteries. Besides, Lando and I have been planning this for ages, and it wouldn't be the same without you."

He glances towards something out of the camera's lens, you aren't sure what, yet you can sense the anticipation in his demeanour.

"I'm not sure," you admit, considering the proposition.

Oscar leans in again, adopting a more serious tone. "Look, I get it. University life can be hectic, but you deserve to have some fun too. It's not just about the grades and deadlines; it's about creating memories and enjoying the journey. Tonight, let's forget about responsibilities and just live in the moment."

His words resonate with a certain truth, and you find yourself swaying toward the idea. Still, a hint of hesitation lingers.

"I promise it won't be an all-night affair," Oscar reassures, sensing your wavering resolve. "Just a couple of hours of music, laughter, and good company. You won't regret it."

You weigh the options, glancing between Oscar's earnest expression and your open book about fluid physics. A sigh escapes you, accompanied by a smile. "Alright, fine. But just for a couple of hours."

Oscar's face lights up with triumph, and he gives you a playful wink. "That's the spirit! Trust me; you won't regret this."

The pulsating beat of the music reverberates through the club as you, Oscar, and Lando immerse yourselves in the vibrant atmosphere. The dance floor is a sea of moving bodies, and the colourful lights create a kaleidoscope of patterns.

Lando, with his infectious energy, is already lost in the rhythm, leaving you and Oscar to navigate the crowded space. The bass thumps in your chest, and you sway to the music, caught up in the electrifying ambience.

Oscar, with his hand on the small of your back, guides you through the sea of dancers. The touch is subtle, but the warmth of his palm sends a shiver down your spine. You can't help but notice how close he is, the proximity making your senses come alive.

As the music intensifies, Oscar pulls you into a spontaneous twirl. The movement is fluid, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away. The chemistry between you two on the dance floor is undeniable, a magnetic pull that defies logic.

You catch a glimpse of Lando, who's thoroughly enjoying the night, his carefree spirit infectious. But your attention keeps drifting back to Oscar – the way his body moves in sync with yours, the fleeting touches that send sparks, and the undeniable connection that lingers in the air.

Amid the chaos, you try to remind yourself of the reality. Oscar has a girlfriend, and this moment on the dance floor should be nothing more than a carefree escapade. Still, the pull between you two is undeniable, and your mind can't help but wander to places it shouldn't.

The bass drops, the lights flash, and the intensity of the music amplifies. Oscar's hands find their way to your hips, the touch sending a surge of electricity through your veins. It's intoxicating, and for a fleeting second, you forget the boundaries that should exist.

As the night unfolds, the three of you lose track of time on the dance floor. The chemistry between you and Oscar continues to spark, creating a tension that hangs in the air. Each touch, each movement, is a delicate dance on the fine line between desire and restraint.

Finally, as the music winds down, you catch your breath, the thumping beat still echoing in your ears. Lando grins, thoroughly pleased with the night's festivities, while Oscar's gaze lingers, a silent acknowledgement of the shared energy on the dance floor.

You step away, the cool air outside the club hitting you, offering a momentary respite from the heated atmosphere within. As you take a deep breath, you can't shake off the lingering sensations – Oscar's touch, the rhythmic dance, and the unspoken tension that hangs in the air.

You remind yourself once more, that you're just friends. You're just friends. You're just friends. You repeat this as your mantra.

You are not a homewrecker.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

You're engrossed in your studies at the university library, and your defence of your master's degree is around the corner. You need every moment you can get to study your thesis when a voice interrupts your concentration.

"Hey there."

You glance up, and to your utter surprise, there's Oscar standing right beside your table, a grin on his face.

"What are you doing here?" you ask, a mixture of shock and concern in your voice.

"Thought I'd surprise you," he replies casually.

You cast a wary glance around, acutely aware of the studious atmosphere in the library. "Oscar, you can't just show up here. People will talk."

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Let them talk. What's the big deal?"

You lower your voice, trying to convey the gravity of the situation. "The big deal is that you're dating someone else, and it's not a great look for either of us if you're seen here."

He glances around, noticing a few curious stares. "Come on, it's not a big deal. Let's grab some coffee or something."

Despite your protests, Oscar leads you out of the library, and you can't shake off the feeling of eyes following the two of you. As you walk through the campus, people start recognising Oscar, and the camera shutters start clicking.

"Oscar, seriously. This is a bad idea," you insist, glancing nervously at the onlookers.

He brushes off your concerns. "Relax, it's just a few pictures. No one will care."

But you know better. You can already feel the whispers and stares, and you're caught in the uncomfortable spotlight of a situation you never signed up for. As you enter a nearby café, the buzzing of conversations seems to rise.

"This is not how I imagined spending my afternoon," you mutter, frustration evident in your voice.

Oscar, however, seems unfazed, ordering coffee as if everything is perfectly normal. "It's just people taking photos. It'll blow over."

You glance at the coffee cup he hands you, the whole situation feeling surreal. "Oscar, you're dating someone else. This is not fair to anyone involved."

He chuckles, dismissing your concern. "Let them speculate. It's not like we're doing anything wrong."

Despite his nonchalance, you can't shake off the unease settling in your stomach. As the two of you sit in the café, surrounded by curious glances, you realise that Oscar's surprise visit has turned into a spectacle – one that you would have preferred to avoid.

"Oscar, be honest. Why are you here?" you ask, watching his facade of nonchalance crumble.

"I missed your cooking?" he tries, but the way he winces completely gives away any chance that the lie might have worked.

"You're supposed to be, like, in the US," you say, your gaze making him squirm in his seat.

"Brazil, actually," he corrects, avoiding eye contact and glancing around at the spectacle he has unwittingly created. Phones around the two of you are noticeably pointing in your direction. "Maybe we should leave?"

"Oscar–"

He grabs your hand, tugging you along with him. Your coffee, still hot and now abandoned, sits on the table inside the store. As he leads you away from the prying eyes, you can feel a mixture of frustration and confusion bubbling inside you.

"Where are we going?" you ask, trying to keep pace with his hurried steps.

"Anywhere away from here. Let's find someplace quiet," he suggests the urgency in his voice betraying the fact that he recognises the magnitude of his misstep.

The two of you navigate through the campus, Oscar leading the way with a determination that seems at odds with the careless attitude he had displayed earlier. As you distance yourselves from the buzzing crowd, he finally slows down.

"I didn't think it would be this... chaotic," he admits a touch of regret in his voice.

"You didn't think? Oscar, you're dating someone else. This isn't just about me. What were you expecting?" you say, frustration lacing your words.

He looks genuinely remorseful. "I just wanted to surprise you. I didn't realise it would turn into this."

"Well, surprises come with consequences, especially when you're in the public eye," you reply, your tone firm.

Oscar sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I messed up, and I'm sorry."

You stop walking, forcing him to face you. "This isn't just about today. It's about everything, Oscar. You're dating someone, yet you keep showing up, making it complicated."

He looks down, seemingly at a loss for words. After a moment, he meets your gaze. "I don't know what to say."

You take a step back, disentangling your hand from his. "Maybe it's time to figure that out. For both of our sakes."

The weight of the situation hangs in the air, and you realise that this unexpected encounter has unravelled more than just a quiet afternoon. As Oscar searches for words, you can't help but wonder how he thought this could have ever been a good idea.

“Why can't you let me be your friend?” He asks. Oscar has the audacity to ask that? As though he didn't fly across the world to surprise you on a race week.

“Because friends don't act like this, and I don't want to be a home wrecker.” You tell him, frustration bubbling in your blood as he seems to keep missing the point.

Oscar looks at you, a mix of confusion and perhaps realisation in his eyes. "Home wrecker? We're just friends hanging out."

You can't help but scoff at his apparent obliviousness. "Friends don't cause scenes, Oscar. Friends don't make grand gestures across continents when they're in a committed relationship."

He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration. "I just wanted to see you. What's the harm in that?"

"The harm, Oscar, is that you're not being fair to anyone involved. Not to me, not to your girlfriend," you reply, your voice carrying the weight of your exasperation.

He looks at you, a hint of defiance in his eyes. "She doesn't have to know every little thing. We can just enjoy our time together."

You shake your head, feeling the need to make him understand. "It's not about keeping secrets. It's about respecting boundaries, about being honest with yourself and the people around you. I can't be a part of something that feels like it's headed for disaster."

He seems to be grappling with your words, his expression shifting between frustration and a realisation that maybe this situation isn't as casual as he thought.

“I didn't mean to complicate things,” he finally admits, a rare vulnerability in his voice.

You take a deep breath, the frustration in your blood now replaced with a sombre resolve. "Oscar, sort things out on your end. I need to focus on my studies and my life. I can't keep navigating this uncertainty."

He nods, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I didn't mean to make things complicated… For you."

“You keep saying that, and then… You– you do things like this.” You take a deep breath, “I'm going home, I have things to study, and you have somewhere to be across the– god, Oscar… You're supposed to be halfway across the world.”

You tighten the grab on your bag as you watch his eyes flicker over your face, before turning and walking away. Leaving him standing there.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The world is cruel, horrifically cruel in fact. Your nerves are all over as you wait outside the set of doors that's going to decide the fate of your master's degree. You're about to go defend your thesis when your phone flashes with the words.

Os🚗 is calling…

You're quick to swipe it, the last thing you need is to talk to Oscar after 2 months of silence. Especially not right now, not before you're going to defend your thesis.

Os🚗 is calling…

Flashes once more, you glance up at the clock. 15 minutes before it's your turn.

You deny the call.

Os🚗 is calling…

Fuck.

“What?” You hiss into the phone.

“I broke up with my girlfriend.” His voice is slightly chipper, as though the news is supposed to make you rejoice with glee.

“Good for you? Oscar, I don't know what to say, what do you want me to say? I don't have time for this!” You're stressed, the clock reads 14 minutes till your defence. You're pacing the floor, unable to stand still, your nerves are eating you from the inside out. You wish this could all just be over with, you need it to pass you by in an instant.

Oscar's voice on the other end remains unnervingly nonchalant, a stark contrast to the chaos of emotions stirring within you. "I thought you should know. You know, in case you cared."

"Oscar, this is not the time," you snap, the urgency of the ticking clock amplifying your frustration. "I have my master's thesis defence in a few minutes, and I can't deal with this right now."

There's a brief pause on the line before Oscar continues, seemingly undeterred. "I just thought you should know since, you know, we're friends and all."

The word "friends" echoes in your ears, a reminder of the blurred lines that have caused so much turmoil in the past. You take a deep breath, attempting to centre yourself amidst the storm of conflicting emotions.

"Oscar, please. I appreciate you letting me know, but I can't handle this distraction right now. I need to focus on my defence," you plead, trying to convey the urgency of the situation.

"Right, right," Oscar says, the realisation in his tone belated. "Good luck with your defence. I'll, uh, talk to you later?"

You nod, even though he can't see it. "Later, Oscar."

As you end the call, you glance at the clock – 12 minutes left. The weight of impending judgment looms over you, but you shake off the distraction, determined to face the panel and defend your thesis with the focus it deserves. The world may be cruel, but you're not about to let it derail the culmination of your hard work and dedication.

The defence room is a blur of questions, explanations, and nods of approval. Somehow, you manage to navigate the academic minefield, answering each query with a precision that surprises even yourself. As the last question concludes, the panel members exchange satisfied glances, and you feel a wave of relief wash over you. The defence is over, and you've held your ground.

Exiting the room, you're greeted by the smiles of your family, the relief in their eyes mirroring your own. You share a moment of celebration, the culmination of years of hard work and determination. The weight on your shoulders begins to lift, replaced by the joy of accomplishment.

Just as you're about to immerse yourself in the warmth of your family's congratulations, a familiar voice cuts through the air. "Congratulations!"

You turn, and there he is – Oscar, standing in the corridor, an awkward smile on his face. The shock of seeing him here, especially after the phone call just an hour ago, momentarily freezes your elation.

"Oscar, what are you doing here?" you ask, a mix of surprise and confusion in your voice.

He rubs the back of his neck, a nervous gesture. "I wanted to congratulate you. I mean, you just defended your thesis, right? That's a big deal."

Your family exchanges curious glances, and you can feel their unspoken questions. You take a deep breath, deciding to focus on the achievement at hand. "Thank you, Oscar. I appreciate that. But I'm with my family right now, and we're celebrating. Maybe we can catch up later."

His smile falters for a moment, but he quickly recovers. "Of course. I just wanted to say congrats. I'll see you around, then."

As Oscar walks away, you turn back to your family, their expressions a mix of understanding and concern. The elation from your successful defence is now tempered by the unexpected encounter with Oscar. You push the lingering questions to the back of your mind, choosing to savour the joy of the moment with those who have been with you through thick and thin.

Your dinner out with your family is nice, but your mind is solely on Oscar. You didn't know he was in town, not that you wanted to know when he was. A headache works its way through your head, as you put on a smile and cheer with your parents and siblings. Brushing off questions about the cute guy who came to congratulate you, forcing you to call him a friend. That stupid word still doesn't sit right in your mouth, it never does when it comes to Oscar.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

You find yourself unable to think about anything but yesterday, your phone is in your hand as Oscar’s contact is pulled up. Why did he call you about breaking up with his girlfriend? Why did he then show up? What did he expect you to do? To say? To… You’re frustrated, pacing the floor once again, as you can’t figure out whether or not you should call him. Instead, the universe seems to decide for you, as his contact flashes on your phone, mirroring yesterday.

Os🚗 is calling…

You stare at the screen, contemplating whether to answer or not. The events of the past 24 hours have left you emotionally drained, and you're not sure if you have the energy to navigate through another conversation with Oscar. However, a part of you, perhaps against your better judgement, decides to answer.

"What now, Oscar?" you answer, your tone a mix of exhaustion and frustration.

"Hey," his voice sounds through the phone, and you can almost picture the casual smile he might be wearing.

"What do you want?" you ask bluntly, not in the mood for small talk.

"I just wanted to check in. You know, after your defence and all," he replies, feigning innocence.

"Save it, Oscar. I don't need your checking in," you snap, the irritation is evident in your voice. "What happened yesterday was unnecessary. I was celebrating with my family, and you just had to insert yourself into the moment."

There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line before he speaks, his voice carrying a sincerity that catches you off guard. "I genuinely wanted to congratulate you. I didn't mean to cause any trouble."

"Well, you did," you retort, feeling a mix of anger and disappointment. "And I don't need your congratulations. I need you to respect my boundaries."

Another pause follows, and when Oscar finally speaks, his tone is more subdued. "I get it. I messed up. I'm sorry."

Sorry. It's a word you've heard from him before, and each time it feels less convincing. You take a deep breath, attempting to collect your thoughts. "Oscar, I don't know what you expect from me, but we can't keep doing this."

"I know, I know," he says, and you can almost picture him running a hand through his hair, a gesture you've come to associate with his moments of frustration. "I just... I thought we were friends, and I wanted to be there for you."

You let out a bitter laugh. "Friends? Oscar, friends don't complicate each other's lives like this. We've been through this before. I can't keep playing this game with you."

There's a heavy silence, and you wonder if he's even listening or if he's already moved on to the next distraction. Finally, he speaks, his voice softer. "Then let me be more…"

"Oscar, let me be clear," you assert, the frustration evident in your voice. "I need you to get your shit together. This constant back-and-forth, the unexpected appearances, it's not fair to anyone involved, especially not to me. Figure out what you want, sort out your own life, and maybe then we can talk about what 'more' means."

His silence hangs on the line, and you take a moment to collect your thoughts. This is a conversation long overdue, and the weight of the words you're about to say carries a gravity you can't ignore.

“But once you do…” You are already regretting the next words you are to speak. "I will not wait around for you, but... But I wouldn't be completely opposed to finding out whatever ‘more' means."

“Okay, okay I can do that.” Oscar sounds, not happy, but rather optimistic and hopeful. “Do you think you would want to… Maybe let me cook for once?”

“Yeah…” You breathe out, “I think I would like that.”

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The hum of machinery fills the air as you make your way through the bustling Mercedes factory, a stark contrast to the chaotic world you left behind. The engineering department is your sanctuary, a place where the precision of machines and the logic of design bring a sense of order to your life.

You sit at your desk, surrounded by schematics and blueprints, immersing yourself in the intricate details of your work. The rhythm of your routine is comforting, and you've come to appreciate the stability your job offers. As a mechanical engineer, your skills find their purpose in the assembly and improvement of high-performance engines, a far cry from the unpredictable whirlwind that was Oscar Piastri.

Today, a new intern, Gabbie, has joined the team, bringing with her a fresh enthusiasm that seems almost infectious. She approaches your desk, curiosity written all over her face.

"Hey there! I heard you're one of the seasoned engineers around here. Mind if I pick your brain a bit?" Gabbie asks, her eyes wide with excitement.

You offer a friendly smile, welcoming the chance for a break from the monotony. "Sure, what's on your mind?"

Gabbie hesitates for a moment before blurting out, "Oscar Piastri! Do you know him? The McLaren driver?"

Your eyes narrow slightly, caught off guard by the unexpected mention of Oscar in this professional setting. "Yeah, I know him. What about him?"

Gabbie grins, oblivious to any subtleties. "I heard he's a pretty cool guy. You know, being a Formula 1 driver and all. Any interesting stories or insights about him?"

You take a deep breath, contemplating how to navigate this conversation without delving into the complexities of your history with Oscar. "Well, he's certainly talented on the track. As for stories, you might want to focus on the engineering marvels we're creating here. That's where the real excitement is."

Gabbie seems undeterred, pushing for more details. "Come on, there must be something. What's he like in person? Is he as cool as he seems on TV?"

You lean back in your chair, trying to redirect the conversation. "Look, we're here to work on groundbreaking technology and push the limits of performance. If you want insights into the world of Formula 1, maybe you should visit a race or something. But around here, let's focus on the engineering challenges ahead of us."

Gabbie, slightly disappointed but still eager, nods and scurries off, likely in search of a more willing source of gossip. You return to your work, the hum of the factory providing a comforting backdrop.

As you refocus on your work, another colleague, Tom, strolls over, his friendly demeanour evident. He glances at Gabbie retreating in the distance and raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

"What was that all about?" Tom asks, nodding towards Gabbie's disappearing figure.

You can't help but smile, the memory of Oscar and the whirlwind of emotions he brings resurfacing. "Oh, she just wanted to know something about a friend of mine."

Tom chuckles, sensing there's more beneath the surface. "Friend, huh? Spill the details. You've got that mysterious smile on your face."

You shake your head, a playful glint in your eyes. "Nothing scandalous, just Oscar she's curious about. You know how people get star-struck."

“Ah, Piastri, right? I forgot you know him.” Tom laughs, "Well, since you mentioned that you're friends with an F1 driver, you've got to share some perks with the rest of us, right?"

“Shut up Tom,” you roll your eyes at him, as he wiggles his eyebrows. “What did you drop by for anyways?”

He waves his iPad in the air. “I got the analytical data back from the stress test, and I need you to go over it before this afternoon.”

Your thoughts of Oscars are washed away in an array of statistics and equations.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

Despite not being on the best speaking terms with Oscar for the moment, you truly can’t seem to escape him. Twitter has become obsessed with a recent interview with Oscar. You try not to follow his life through the media, an attempt to respect him enough to let him tell you what he wants you to know about him. That said, sometimes the internet makes that an impossible feat.

In the interview clip circulating on Twitter, Oscar sits comfortably in the studio, a backdrop of sponsor logos and racing memorabilia behind him. The interviewer, armed with a charismatic smile, delves into various aspects of Oscar's life, from his recent races to his off-track interests.

As you scroll through the snippets, you can't deny the pang of curiosity that tugs at you. The dichotomy between the Oscar you know personally and the one presented to the world through interviews is stark. It's a reminder of the deliberate distance he maintains, carefully navigating the narrative of his public persona.

The interviewer grins, steering the conversation towards personal anecdotes. "And what about love, Oscar? Any new special someone in your life?"

Oscar squirms in his seat, as a blush spreads across his face. “Well…” His eyes flicker around the room. “No, not recently.”

“Oh really? That’s a surprise, you’re otherwise known for changing it up quite a bit.” The interviewer winks, as though that statement wasn’t wildly inappropriate.

Oscar chuckles nervously, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation has taken. "Yeah, well, I've had my fair share of changes. But, you see, there's someone… someone I've known for a long time. And, uh, I guess I messed up. Big time."

The interviewer leans forward, sensing a potential scoop. "Care to share more about this mystery person?"

Oscar hesitates, glancing at his hands for a moment before meeting the interviewer's gaze. "We've been through a lot together. I've known her for years, and I can honestly say she's the one who knows me best. But, you know, life happens, and I've hurt her more than I care to admit."

The revelation hangs in the air, leaving an unspoken weight. Your heart skips a beat as the pieces click into place. The cryptic words, the veiled references – it's about you. The interview, unbeknownst to the public, has become a confessional, a subtle admission of guilt and remorse.

The interviewer, sensing the delicacy of the situation, shifts gears. "It sounds like a complicated story. Do you think there's a chance for reconciliation?"

Oscar's gaze falters, a mixture of regret and uncertainty in his eyes. "I don't know. I hope so. But I've got a lot to figure out, and it might be too late."

The vulnerability in his admission is palpable, and the internet, now buzzing with speculation, picks up on the emotional depth of Oscar's words. As you close the app, a whirlwind of emotions engulfs you, surprise, sadness, and an unexpected twinge of hope as your phone pings with a text message.

Os🚗: Don’t open Twitter. You: Good morning to you too Os🚗: I’m serious. Os🚗: Remember that old picture from a few years ago? You: What picture? Os🚗: When I ran into you, and we both ended up on the ground, that one.

You snort, you absolutely remember both the picture and that day.

Os🚗: I gave an interview, and I might have mentioned you by accident? You: You don’t sound sure Os🚗 is calling…

You’re quick to accept the call, as you twirl your coffee. A long day of work ahead of you, and now a mess that Oscar has apparently dragged you into it seems. “Okay, so I just wanted the interviewer to change the questions, and I mentioned you, and I’m sorry, and then someone started digging online, and that you’ve been around me for years, and that stupid picture from back then got dug up, and someone else then found out that you’re still working for Mercedes, and please let me pick you up Friday?” All the words come rushing out of Oscar's mouth at once.

“I’m sorry what?” Your head is already spinning.

“Go out with me,” Oscar repeats. “Friday, I’ll pick you up.”

“Yeah, okay, okay, okay, I got that part. Now back up. What about the rest?” You suck in a deep breath, as you prepare yourself for what the hell Oscar just said. Oscar takes a moment to gather his thoughts, realising he might have split too much in a rush of anxiety. "Look, I messed up during the interview. I didn't mean to bring you into it, but then people started connecting the dots, and now it's all over social media. I didn't want you to be dragged into this mess, especially considering everything."

"Considering everything? Oscar, what did you say?" Your tone edges towards frustration. “I saw a few clips on Twitter.”

“I thought I said not to – never mind.” He sighs, "I might have hinted that you're someone important to me and that I've messed things up with you. It wasn't supposed to be like this, and I'm genuinely sorry for bringing you into it without your consent."

Your mind races, both with irritation at the situation and a surprising warmth at Oscar's unexpected admission. "Okay, I appreciate the apology, but fuck, I don’t need my job jeopardised because of something online. What if someone reaches out, I mean my supervisor is already not ecstatic about the fact that I’m good friends with you. The last thing I need is for him to think I’m dating you.”

“But –” Oscar starts before you cut him off.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” You tell him.

“So you’ll let me take you out on Friday?” He asks, anticipation hanging in the air, a soft smile on your lips. One he can’t see, and one you would not admit to if he were to ask.

“Yeah, yeah…” You breathe out, “I want you to bring the ugliest bouquet of flowers though, that’s the only thing I ask of you.”

“The ugliest?”

You hum in approval. “We’ll figure out the rest later, I have to get back to work before I get too far behind on my assignments for today.”

“I’ll text you the details,” Oscar says before hanging up, you keep the phone against your chin as you take a long slurp of your coffee. You can’t believe you actually agreed to go out with him, especially in the middle of the mess he has just created.

Oscar drives you insane, and it seems to be in the best way possible. You smile as you finally put away your phone and start up on your first assignment of the day.

◦━⇜━❈━⇝━◦

The anticipation builds as you wait outside, glancing at your watch and then at the passing cars. It's Friday evening, and Oscar is supposed to pick you up. Your attire is casual, as per his instructions, but you can't shake off the lingering nervousness and excitement.

Finally, you spot his distinctive car approaching, the engine's low growl hinting at its power. Oscar pulls up with a confident smile, and you can't help but notice how his presence seems to fill the space around him.

He steps out of the car, wearing a simple yet stylish outfit. "Hey," he greets you, his eyes reflecting a mix of eagerness and uncertainty.

"Hey," you reply, a small smile playing on your lips. "Nice car."

Oscar grins, clearly proud of his choice. "Thanks. Ready for an adventure?"

You raise an eyebrow. "Is this going to be an adventure?"

He chuckles. "Well, let's just say, it's a night of surprises."

As you get into the car, you can't help but wonder what exactly Oscar has planned. The tension in the air is palpable, a mix of unresolved emotions and the promise of something new. The drive is filled with light banter, both of you carefully avoiding the elephant in the room – the mess created by Oscar's interview.

The car pulls to a night school, you look over at Oscar, a smile on his lips. Secrecy in his eyes, as he’s quickly out of his door. Walking around the car to help you out of it, a hand in yours.

“I promised I would cook for you,” he reminds you, as he leads you through the hallways of the school, before reaching the kitchen, “except I would like for it to be edible, so I got us into a cooking class.”

He opens the door, and two other couples are already inside the kitchen, including what you’re guessing is going to be your teacher.

“Oscar Piastri,” He tells the teacher, who notes it down before remarking on there still being a couple missing. She points you and Oscar to stand at the front right kitchen island.

“You’re so stupid.” You whisper to him, as he eagerly drags you over to the island. Helping you get your apron on.

He leans in, his breath hot on your neck as he’s tying your apron. “You haven’t seen the half of it yet.”

As the class begins, you find yourselves surrounded by the aromas of various ingredients and the lively chatter of the other couples. Oscar seems surprisingly excited about the cooking class, and you can't help but be swept up in his enthusiasm.

The teacher, a seasoned chef with a no-nonsense attitude, introduces the menu for the evening – a complex dish that involves a delicate balance of flavours and precise techniques. As the instructions are given, you exchange glances with Oscar, both of you silently agreeing to tackle this challenge together.

Oscar takes charge of the first step, expertly handling the knife as he chops vegetables with precision. You observe his focused expression, the playful glint in his eyes occasionally surfacing. The air between you carries a comfortable warmth, a stark contrast to the earlier tensions.

As you work side by side, the occasional laughter and banter with the other couples create a communal atmosphere in the kitchen. You can't help but be grateful for the distraction – the opportunity to focus on something other than the complexities of your relationship with Oscar.

The cooking process unfolds smoothly, and soon, the kitchen is filled with the enticing aroma of the dish coming together. Oscar steals a moment to glance at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. "How are we doing so far?"

You return the smile, genuinely enjoying the experience. "Surprisingly well, considering your questionable reputation in the kitchen."

He mockingly gasps, placing a hand over his heart. "Ouch, right in the culinary skills."

The teacher makes her rounds, offering guidance and checking on each couple's progress. As she approaches you and Oscar, you brace yourself for scrutiny. To your surprise, she nods approvingly. "You two seem to have a good handle on things. Impressive."

You share a triumphant look with Oscar, the sense of accomplishment strengthening the connection between you. The dish is finally plated, and the class gathers to taste each other's creations. The blend of flavours is exquisite, a testament to the collective effort of the participants.

With the cooking portion complete, the teacher commends the class and invites everyone to enjoy the fruits of their labour. You and Oscar find a quiet corner, plates in hand, and sit together.

As you take the first bite, the rich flavours dance on your palate. Oscar watches you, anticipation in his eyes. You meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgement passing between you. Despite the chaos and unexpected twists, this evening has become a shared memory, a moment of unity amidst the complexities of life.

"So," Oscar begins, breaking the comfortable silence, "how would you rate my cooking skills?"

You savour another bite before responding with a playful grin. "I'll give you a solid eight out of ten. Surprisingly, you didn't burn anything."

He feigns offence, but the smile on his lips betrays him.

You lift your fork to let him taste a part of the elderly couple’s dish. You expect Oscar to take your fork. Instead, he leans in, keeping eye contact with you, as he eats from your fork. Your breath hitches, and his eyes are staring into yours intensely. Warmth spreads from your neck and up. Then he pulls back, finally chewing on the food.

He uses the back of his hand to dry off his mouth, still keeping his eyes locked with yours, as he flashes you a cheeky grin. “That was delicious.”

A sudden shyness overtakes you, as you look away. Why did he…?

Then the teacher claps her hands, telling everyone it’s time to start doing the dishes, and your small intimate moment is broken and forgotten as Oscar springs to his feet. Already holding his hand out to help you up, no need for you to tell him this time.

The scene replaying in your mind as you’re going through the motions of washing up, it’s still fresh on your mind as Oscar is thanking the teacher for the great lesson. Even when he slides his hand into yours, and you walk out to his car.

He once again opens the door for you, helping you get into the car.

“Oh, before I forget.” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts completely as a bouquet of the ugliest flowers you’ve ever seen is presented in front of you. Oscar smiles proudly at you, happy that he has taken you by surprise.

“I didn’t…” You trail off. The flowers are horrendous to look at, an absolute horror show in floral form. “They’re hideous.”

“Just like you asked.” He finally slips into the driver's seat, smiling at you, waiting patiently for a bit of praise, as you can’t seem to find the right words to describe the warm feelings inside of your heart.

“Thank you.” You settle on, “Thank you, Oscar. You did good… You are good.”

You look over at him, and the flowers in your hands are quickly abandoned and forgotten, when his face is right there. You place your hands gently on each of his cheeks. He leans in close to you, placing his own hand on your cheek. You close your eyes, as his lips finally meet yours.

The car falls away, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, the taste of rich food lingering on your lips. His lips move against yours with a tender rhythm, a silent language conveying emotions that words have struggled to express.

His hand, warm against your cheek, sends a shiver down your spine, and you tighten your grip on his cheeks, deepening the kiss. The connection is familiar yet different, a blend of shared history and the uncharted territory of something new.

Time seems to stretch, the world narrowing down to the sensation of his lips, the warmth of his touch. It's a kiss that holds the weight of unspoken apologies and the promise of something more. At that moment, the complications and uncertainties fade into the background, leaving only the raw, honest emotion exchanged between two people on the precipice of change.

As the kiss finally breaks, you find yourself breathless, a silent understanding passing between you. You open your eyes to meet his gaze, the vulnerability mirrored in both your expressions. There's a question in his eyes, one that lingers in the air, waiting for acknowledgement.

The taste of the kiss lingers, the sweet aftertaste of a decision made, of boundaries crossed. It's a moment suspended in time, a threshold crossed, and you can't help but wonder where this unexpected journey with Oscar might lead.

"Wow," he breathes, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. "That was..."

You finish his sentence with a soft smile. "Unexpected?"

He chuckles a sound that resonates with shared joy. "Yeah, unexpected. But good. Very, very good."

The shared laughter dispels any remaining tension, replaced by a newfound ease. As you sit there, still holding each other's gaze, you realise that the evening has become a turning point. The kitchen adventure, the banter, and now this shared kiss – it's a series of moments that have rewritten the script between you and Oscar.

The reality of the situation lingers in the air, but instead of feeling weighed down, you find a sense of lightness, a subtle shift in the atmosphere between you two. The kiss becomes a symbol, a bridge between the past and a future that holds the promise of understanding and growth.

With a contented smile, you break the silence. "Well, I guess we've officially moved past the 'friends' territory."

Oscar grins, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and anticipation. "Yeah, we have. And I'm looking forward to wherever this takes us."

Your worries about your supervisor and what it might mean for your job at Mercedes fade away as Oscar leans in again, capturing your lips once more. You can get used to this.

Oscar might be someone who only brings chaos and problems into your life, but you’re all too prepared to deal with that now. Willing to deal with it all, and happy to have him by your side as you do.

⋗ a/n - thank you for reading this, shout out to @pucksandpower for making me not kill Oscar, and for them to actually end up together. Also my beta readers Fari and @thisismeracing for editing this.

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