peachyysainz

[peachyysainz]

happy 500!

NINE IN THE MORNING | op81

SYNOPSIS: This bed shares us, and in this bed, we share one another.

PAIRING: oscar x fem!reader

GENRE: smut (18+), fluff

CW: unprotected sex, fingering, hand job. it’s pretty tame and soft but oscar luvs u and u luv him so! i’d say it’s pretty sweet <3

WORD COUNT: 1,497

a/n: this is my first post on my new blog! (this is pretty tame, enjoy it whilst it lasts)

Through the crack in the curtains, early morning sunlight floods gently into the room. A golden line lands itself along the crisp, white bedsheets, only slightly exposed sections of skin being caught under the light.

Oscar is sleeping, undisturbed. His face has no expression, and you find it easing in moments like this, where his face does nothing to contort in its usual ways when he’s in thought — angry, sad; instead, just his mouth slightly agape as he hums in peace.

Bringing a hand to his jaw, your thumb stroking gently upon the surface of his skin, he stirs slightly. He’s warm.

He’s on his side, facing towards you. The slight kinks in his hair fall over his forehead. Your fingers brush them gently and suddenly — he twitches, and slowly awakens from the movement.

“Sorry,” You hum. Quiet. Soft.

“C’mere.” Oscar mumbles back, still half-asleep, arms reaching out to grab you and pull you into his embrace. He knows your intentions.

His eyes are closed, breath fanning the outer shell of your ear as you pepper delicate kisses along the junction of his neck and shoulder — a spot that is Oscar’s favourite, that you’ve kissed many a time, yet never fails to melt him into your grasp.

Hands trailing down to your hips, Oscar takes the time to feel every inch of your skin. The warmth radiating from the surface; the minuscule rise and fall of your breaths, all as he awakes slowly.

It’s early morning, you can both tell that much. Finally an off day for the pair of you, there’s no requirement to rush right now.

Your hips grind softly against his, both of you entirely bare, the movement unhurried. Oscar’s hands on your hips don’t interfere, until he turns you so that you’re on your back, his figure above you.

“You’re needy this morning,” he grins at you. His hands rest on either side of your head, “Can I take care of you?”

You nod, a breathy ‘Yeah’ leaving your mouth before his lips gently mix with yours. Oscar is always gentle in the morning. He’s tender, careful, and he’s your favourite when he’s like this.

His tongue moves timidly against yours. You reach a hand between the pair of you in order to stroke Oscar’s length. With the action, he sighs into your mouth.

You’re slow, tantalisingly slow, and it makes him grow more needy. You’re taking the time to feel every part of him, each small vein, artery, ridge of his Oscar’s shaft. The way his body stiffens under your touch yet moulds to you.

Oscar rests his forehead against yours, and it’s the first time he breaks the kiss. You’re breathless.

“Need you inside now.” You continue stroking his length, until he takes it from your grasp to position himself properly between your legs.

Oscar enters you, hands guiding himself to where he’s needed the most. He sighs at the contact, at the feeling of you stretching around him; at the way your fingers etch further into his bicep with each inch he slips inside. He mumbles, verging on a moan — yeah, oh, God.

The tightness, but the stretch, a juxtaposition he loves with you. The way your body invites him in, and always makes sure he feels everything. Oscar can’t get lost in the sensation, instead, he must constantly be presented it. Over, and over, and over, he feels the way you almost drag him back inside you.

His thrusts aren’t too hard. He’s gentle, but passionate. He wants to push sounds out of you that are loud enough for him only. Breathless and serene, comforting and tranquil in one another’s vicinity.

Oscar moves his forehead from your own, looking down to where he can watch himself slip in and out of you. A hand comes to hike one of your legs up higher, calloused palm pushing against the back of your thigh. It doesn’t seem possible, but it feels deeper.

“That’s it, there?,” he talks you through it gently, awaiting your response.

Throwing your head back into the pillow, your fingers come to roll circles on your clit, “Mmm, Osc, like that.”

Now, you can feel his eyes on you. Watching your face contort in pleasure, he’s not sure what he enjoys focusing on more — the lewd image of your pussy inviting him in, skin colliding and slapping, or the way your breasts bounce slightly from the impact of his hips rutting into yours, or even the way you struggle to keep your eyes open, and even when you do, your eyelids are hooded and your mouth is agape.

Oscar moves your other thigh, pushing against both now so that they rest atop your stomach. If he was fucking you with more vigour, he’d be damn near bending you in half.

“C-can,” fucking hell, “Can you see better now?,” You’re whining. You’re unsure what you grab now that you can’t continue at your clit anymore, instead aimlessly grasping the sheets.

The man above you has to look at the ceiling for a hot second, convinced he could cum alone from your voice and another moment looking at the way you’re unravelling beneath him.

He curses, “So pretty,” when he finally looks back at you. And you take that as an attempt at answering your question.

A part of you would feel guilty for the fact he’s giving everything to you without a need for you to move, but you needed him, and he’s providing for you.

Oscar is close now, you can tell from the way he now brings his chest flush to yours, allowing your legs to rest. His breath is hot on your neck, and you can hear his soft moans. He’s telling you he’s close now, that you’re so pretty and good for him.

You cling to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, nails digging in slightly. It’s a plea without words — cum now, let me feel you.

With a few more grunts, each increasing in volume, Oscar pulls out suddenly, in near perfect timing. His cum lands in ropes along your stomach. It’s warm.

He rests back on his heels, a hand wiping at his forehead. Sweat. He laughs, “God, I’m out of breath.”

He makes you giggle, and you’re led now, stiff so that his seed doesn’t spill onto the bed sheets. He plants a kiss onto your lower stomach, before he disappears into the bathroom.

It’s not long before he’s back, sitting close to the edge of the bed, wiping you gently. Your fingers trace over his thigh, and you thank him in a quiet voice. Oscar discards the tissues he wiped you down with, coming back onto the bed to lie next to you and pull the duvet back over you both.

One hand props himself up against the pillow, the other sneaks carefully between your thighs. You plant kisses along Oscar’s jaw as he rubs calming circles into your clit, his fingers dipping inside you, curling with a ‘come hither’ motion that makes you grip onto him and call out his name.

The arm keeping his head up comes to snake underneath your neck against the pillow, turning you slightly so that your back is flush with his chest. His fingers continue, as if at a speed tuned perfectly and just for you, and you open your legs wider to invite him to continue.

“Keep your legs open for me,” Oscar kisses atop your head, “‘M gonna get you there.” He promises, and you know he will deliver.

Your moans, mirroring Oscar’s before he reached his climax, increase in volume and desperation. You clutch at his forearm that is wrapped at your collar bone.

Oscar talks you through it again, his lips at your ear, kissing the shell and praising you as he feels your body tense, “Cum for me, please.”

As if by his command, you jolt suddenly, feeling the waves rip through your stomach, a warmth coating your body, and hearing Osc, Osc, Osc! fill the room as he fulfills his duty and lets you ride it out.

You can feel where you’re stuck to him from sweat, the room becoming stuffy and almost unbearable suddenly.

You turn to face Oscar. He’s smiling at you, crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes as you look at him with a slightly dazed expression.

He peppers you with soft pecks to your lips, smiling between each one.

If one of you would break this bubble you found yourself in, and you’d check the time, you’d realise it’s only around 9am. There was plenty more of the morning for you to spend engrossed in one another.

But alas, you stay looking into one another’s eyes, giggling and humming silly little love drunk comments at each other.

Oscar is your favourite when he’s like this. When he’s gentle and kind and caring.

When he holds you again and waits for you to fall back asleep in his arms.

Before he then does the same.

© peachyysainz 2024

[peachyysainz]

i cannot believe that daniele ricciardo’s career is essentially done like that. for all his achievements and the time in the sport is crazy to announce it in the way they did.

[peachyysainz]

i have never seen oscar happier than in these photos and i genuinely can’t take it 😭😭

especially the one with daniel 🥺 it just makes me so emotional

[peachyysainz]

Can't explain this but it is correct.

[peachyysainz]

Lando just went patpat oscar and it's not even on the head it's on the cheeks i'm so in shambles my life has changed forever

it's these cute little interactions that gets me 😭😭😭

[peachyysainz]

#WHATEVER_IT_TAKES (or whatever mclaren said at the beggigning of the season)

[peachyysainz]

I'm tremendously happy for oscar, and the drama of the race was next level BUT we need to take a second and appreciate the gift that just kept on giving.

[peachyysainz]

i'm rockin' my peers, puttin' suckers in fear

[peachyysainz]

the first one: the smile, the pink cheeks, the swoosh of hair? 100% baby boy

one clip later: reclined head, NECK?!!!? half lidded eyes - why are you looking at me like that??? the little uneven smirk and again the NECK?!??! EXPOSED ELONGATED NECK WITH FRECKLES??! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME??

(sorry i don’t know how to download or screen record a video from instagram without all the icons and shit, my abilities are limited to screenshotting and freaking out about oscar)

[peachyysainz]

Hungarian GP, a brief summary:

[peachyysainz]

got a juicy idea for a max fic!! (i have more free time coming up so i can pump this out)

[peachyysainz]

i’m so so so happy for oscar’s first win, but i can’t help but feel it’s deflated slightly by the whole “who gets what position” debate.

[peachyysainz]

[peachyysainz]

"Clip that!"

[peachyysainz]

Logan Sargeant x So Long, London

[peachyysainz]

brainstorming some ideas to write when i have more free time!

[peachyysainz]

LEWIS WINS THE 2024 BRITISH GRAND PRIX