#Oscar Piastri x oc

[iimplicitt]

SWAN LAKE | OP81

part one — part two

pairings: oscar piastri x ballerina!female character

summary: on a night out at the ballet in paris, oscar finds himself becoming entranced by a prima ballerina. and once he has his mind set on something, there’s really no other option. if he wanted her, he’d have her.

warnings/an: one night stand (sorta), angst (mostly in part two), slut shaming, ballet, longing, 18+, smut, semi-public smut, he thinks she’s pretty when she cries, a bit of inspo from the movie black swan. collab with @theonottsbxtch who will be writing part two

word count: 3.3k

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He gazed down at the empty stage, waiting for the performance to begin. Others filtered into the seats below, staring at the empty chairs of the orchestra that will soon be filling the space with strings of century old notes. Oscar appreciated the arts, he knew how important it was to preserve things like this. For the culture, etc.

However, if he were being honest he would rather be anywhere else.

When his PR told him he had to make an appearance in Paris that weekend, the ballet was the last thing on his mind. It didn’t make sense to him, not seeing how his profession had anything to do with the ballet scene. “Expanding your reach” is what he’d been told in response. It didn’t matter though, he had nothing else to do and no interviews were involved. He did get photographed on the way in, but that was the most of it.

Sighing, his eyes danced across the stage again. From where he was at, he could see past the curtains. Only slightly, since the intricate hall was still swathed in warm lights from the glittering chandelier above. He spotted some dancers talking or stretching, their forms abstract from the distance and shadows. Only illuminated from their shimmering skirts that caught in the light as they moved.

He wondered why he came alone. Though he supposed they knew better than to tell his teammate to attend. He would’ve been bored out of his mind and asked Oscar to retreat to the bar twenty minutes into the show.

Eventually the lights began to dim and the chattering voices fell into silence once darkness fell.

Oscar didn’t know what to expect, but when she entered the stage he immediately fell into a trance as he watched her move. There was something macabre about the beauty of it. The way he watched her muscles move and contort as she danced. Managing to make the pain look elegant. Soft. Her expression and body emulating the emotions of her character, not needing words as the music guided the plot of Swan Lake along.

It was a demanding role. Watching her expertly morph into Odile. Displaying the torment with elegance he would never be able to cultivate himself.

He felt his heart speeding up and slowing down depending on what strings were being played. His breath being yanked from his very lungs and unconsciously leaning forward. Closer and closer, his mind wanting to topple over the side of the railing just to get near to her.

She was like a siren, beckoning his soul forward. Calling out to all his weaknesses and desires. It was strange and frightening. Unknown. He thought he had run out of things to experience. Believed he had had all his firsts.

There was just something about her.

Something new and exciting. Something to be explored and handled with care.

He watched as she spun, her movements carried out with an air of obsession. Commanding her body in ways most of the human population wouldn’t be able to fathom.

Oscar’s head was spinning as the story unfolded. The longing was palpable throughout the theater, thrumming off the stage in waves that followed the beat of dancer’s shoes hitting the stage. Caught in the breath between notes of music and the strain of practiced elegance.

He knew it must be exhausting, but she looked of the heavens. Swathed in feathers and rhinestones that caught in the spotlight. Her eyelids low and sultry, embodying power and temptation. Yet she was able to convey the jealousy, hope, and despair just as well. A second language spoken through muscle. It didn’t matter if she was wearing black or white while she danced, when it came down to it Odile and Odette were two sides of the same coin. The human experience of love and obsession.

Oscar’s hands gripped the railing as the final act approached, feeling as if the three sisters were winding up his thread and taunting him with a blade. He watched in bated breath, following Odette and reading her. He knew what was about to happen, even though he had no foresight on the performance he could see it in the way she moved.

His knuckles were white on the metal that was now warm beneath his palms. His own muscles tight and strained as he watched Odette drown herself, her lover following suit. Von Rothbart collapsing not long after and the curtains fell.

Thunderous applause followed.

Oscar felt like he could breathe again. As if the enchanter's spell had lifted from him as well. He blinked, coming back down to earth and settling in his bones again. Sobering up from what felt like an opium induced haze.

The curtains lifted again and the dancers bowed. Waving to their audience of admirers. His eyes stayed on her though, she was magnetic that way. Alluring. Addictive. He began to wonder other things about her, like what her laugh might sound like and what perfume she was wearing. Small things that made up the mystery of who she was. A mystery he was now hell bent on solving.

Oscar made his way downstairs, greeting people who recognised him as he went but made sure to make haste. Where to go? Where to wait? He didn’t know how this worked nor did he know what he was doing. He didn’t know what to expect either.

But he had one thing on his mind; he wanted her.

So he’d have her.

Simple as that. The longing settled deep in his bones, foreign yet natural. As if it was meant to be there and was only just awakening. Yawning and stretching, the wings twitching and impatient to finally take flight.

His eyes danced around as the clock hands made their own slow dance past the hour. Tick-ticking and the crowd dwindled into nothingness.

Leaning against the counter of the bar with a long ago melted glass of whiskey next to him, the doors opened again. The final whispers of the performance let out in a soft hum followed by footsteps and sighs from the dancers.

He caught sight of her the moment she stepped out into the low lamp light. Her hair now loose and face scrubbed of makeup yet streaks of charcoal still clung around her eyes, red lipstick leaving a stain on her mouth. Remnants of her other lives that didn’t want to leave just yet.

Her eyes gleamed when she too caught him. That’s what it felt like. Being caught. Suddenly entrapped in a snare.

She slowly turned away, eyes only leaving his at the very last moment as a man appeared in the shadows behind her. Coated in darkness by the doorway, his silhouette leaning down to mutter something to her. Oscar watched with apt attention as a large hand snaked out, gently resting on her waist as they held secret conversation. He looked for any indication that they were lovers, but she held the essence of someone still on stage. Still being watched. Muscles coiled in tension.

Oscar saw the other dancers walking look back over their shoulders, staring into the darkness with faces painted in judgement. Ridicule. As if they were watching a scandal unfold. It was heated, angry even.

He couldn’t stop gazing at them even as the phantom stepped back, his hand dropping away and falling into darkness. He couldn’t stop even as she walked up to him and the other faces only soured more.

“Hello.”

Oscar’s eyes flicked down. He breathed in, out, and smiled.

“Hi.”

She looked him over, picking apart any loose threads with her eyes as she tried to get a read on him. It wasn’t often he met someone who commanded the space they were in so fully, as if they were breathing life into the atmosphere themselves.

He took his own chance to observe her, now that they were so close. She stood tall and leaned slightly on one hip, a light sweater hanging off one delicate shoulder, her skirt loose around her thighs to let the summer night breeze of Paris make its own dance around her.

Oscar bit the inside of his cheek, resisting the urge to grin at her. “Magical performance.”

She wasn’t fazed or skeptical, she just kept staring at him. Intense and curious, cautious. He was a man waiting for a ballerina after a show, a tale as old as the intricate halls. Except back then, those women rarely had a choice. Being thrown into sex work to appease their more well paying audience by the leashes of their directors.

Her eyes narrowed a bit as she considered him. Her accent was like liquid velvet as she spoke next. “Are you a scout?”

“Not quite, darling.” Oscar stood there, amused as he watched her try to figure him out. Their words were few, but each party tried to be fluent in the other’s body language. Their own pas de deux.

“Then what are you? A fan?”

“Admirer,” he corrected, feeling as though that defined whatever was running rampant inside of him better. “Like I said, you bring magic to the stage. I hope you know that you’re wonderful.”

There it is. A blush. Just a bit, dusting across her cheeks as she continued to have the reins tightened on her expression.

Always on stage.

Oscar stepped closer, careful not to invade her space. Watching in fascination as her neck craned back slightly to look up at him, his eyes dancing briefly over the contours of her throat and he wanted to sink his teeth into her.

His own voice was low, a bit gravely. “What do the dancers of Palais Garnier do after a performance?”

Her hand adjusted on her bag, taking her own step forward, their chests nearly touching. Her eyes gleamed with something more.

“Go home. Stretch. Sleep.”

“And what about company?”

“We tend to avoid it.”

“You won’t entertain a lonely man on a business trip?”

Her lips tilted up slightly. “They’re usually the worst kind.”

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He felt like a teenager all over again as they stumbled through the doorway of her apartment. Her legs wrapped around his waist and he blindly kicked the door shut behind him before pressing her into the wall.

Her ribs expanded and contracted against his palms as he held her, his mouth searching hers for an answer. To say he wanted her was not enough. It never would be, he wasn’t the best with his words. Right now he didn’t need to be. They spoke in their common tongue of bodies moving against one another.

He wanted to have her. It was possessive of him. He knew that. Who was he want such a thing?

Touching her was bliss and at the moment he realised he’d never known it before. He wanted to get drunk off of it. Bottle it up and keep it forever. Keep her forever, if she’d let him.

Their tongues danced and he explored her, every crevice and curve. Hard muscle and soft skin. The build of someone possessed with the addiction of perfection.

His hands snaked up to cup her face, his hips pressing into hers to keep her in place against the wall. The space cramped with no room for mishaps but he knew they’d cause carnage that night.

The heat from her body made it feel as if he’d been thrown into the belly of a dragon, its insides churning and it got ready to unleash its flames. He was in love with every second that she exhaled a breath, singing his name so gently.

Pulling away from the wall, her fingers twined in his hair. Tugging, painful, wonderful. Her body gliding as she lightly placed her feet on the floor, even now conducting her body with precision.

He gazed down at her, heavy lidded and took in her blushed face and swollen lips. His rough hands still held her throat softly, taking in the rapid beat of her heart.

“Angel, you’re going to ruin me.” He kissed her again, his next words being passed in the breath between them. “I know it.”

She smiled at him coyly, catching his mouth again as she grabbed onto his shirt and spun them around. He felt her hands push and suddenly he was falling. Down down down. Odette and Seigfried all over again but this time a mattress met his back instead of unforgiving waters.

When she straddled him it felt as if gravity suddenly lost its power on earth, making him float up and up and when she ground her hips he went hurtling back down again. The sensation unlike anything he’d experienced. A man renewed.

Rising, heating, blowing. The sound of her moan as he flipped them around again, enveloping her beneath him. He was surrounded by the smell of her perfume.

He loved every second of it.

Oscar snaked down, his mouth trailing and leaving hot open mouthed kisses. Tongue dancing over her throat, the temptation to mark her nearly insatiable.

“Oscar.” His name felt like an omen as it left her, winding around his own lungs and making him breathless.

Arching and tightening, sweating and her lips were a grin of cherry red, bitten at lips.

His hands tore at her. He couldn’t help it. Didn’t care that the fabric was ripping and feeling delirious at the sound of her laughter at his urgency. When it was down to just her tights and underwear he sat back on his heels, taking in how she was bathed in moonlight.

“An angel,” he muttered again as his fingertips traced every outline, chasing the goosebumps that began to ripple across her skin.

“I don’t think angel’s take part in such sin.” Her voice was smooth with a French accent, a slight rasp in the back of her throat as she looked up at him. He could tell something else was on her mind. Something she wanted to say.

“What is it?”

She shook her head, hesitant. Still performing.

His fingers hooked under her chin, guiding her face up. “Tell me.” Oscar took in her features, the way even then she tried to keep everything perfect. But he could see her, she was like a book just waiting to burst open so someone would finally sit down and take the time to read. To put effort into figuring her out. And he was starting to, page but page.

Casual intimacy scared her.

Nothing about this was casual. She was his world right now, everyone and everything else could go to hell.

Oscar could get intense, he knew that. Often he tried to tread lightly so he didn’t scare anyone off. But if he wanted this to work, being honest with one another was the only option. If they couldn’t use their words, that was fine. They didn’t need to.

He yanked her up, the sudden movement making a gasp leave her lips followed by a string of light laughs that made his heart skip a beat. Oscar guided her back as his mouth found purchase on hers again, feeling the moment she melted into him. His greedy hands grabbing at her, soaking in the feeling of her holy skin.

They bumped into the door and his hand blindly found the door handle as if he had been there before. As if he was her ghost who finally materialised.

When the cool night air hit her bare back she tensed for only a moment—debating—before falling back into the deep end with him even harder than before.

She became greedy as well, morphing into his own swan queen hungry off the taste of temptation and need. Not caring she was practically naked on her balcony and not caring as his own clothes began to puddle onto the floor.

She found this exciting and it had Oscar grinning into her like a shark who had just caught a whiff of blood in the water.

He bent her over, making sure she found a firm grip on the railing before his fingers tore into her tights and ripped. The sharp sound startling as it carried over the skyline of Paris, the city of love glittering at them knowingly.

One hand took hold of her hip as the other pulled her underwear aside. Not a moment of hesitation as he thrusted his hips sharply into hers, getting drunk off the sound of his name pouring out from her lips.

When she looked back at him it felt like he was aware of the earth spinning. Her eyes startling as they leaked what must have been ichor. Mascara running down her face in messy black streaks with euphoria dazzling her smile.

“You are so beautiful.”

How was he to handle such tenderness? He’d never been in such a position and it seemed the only thing he was capable of was being rough. Edges sharp. Accidentally cutting and leaving a bloody mess.

Lust had been a companion to him before, but this? This was something else entirely and he never wanted to let go of her.

He whispered her name into her neck as he leaned forward, driving himself deeper and taking in the gentle scent of her shampoo.

Her nails found purchase in his hair, clawing and pulling and preening— Oscar was unraveling.

The three sisters pulling and pulling and pulling on the thread.

Grinding and retreating, the silk of her hair spilling against searing flesh. An intimate dance between two starstruck idiots desperate for one another.

He loved it.

Yanking her back against him they stumbled back inside, a chair toppling over and he picked her up with ease as he laid her on the table.

Oscar’s thumb tugged against her lips, her mouth easily dropping open and she was so warm and fuck—

He was done for.

Hands clasped around her rib cage, pulling her to the edge and her legs dangled off his shoulders. Oscar was holding onto her so tight he was sure he was hurting her but she didn’t seem to care. Her own nails were leaving bloody trails as they dragged down his stomach to his hips.

Oscar started to fuck her again. The word sounded harsh but he didn’t know how else to word it. Making love didn’t seem right, that phrasing carried the air of something far more tender.

Her mouth gaped open, his name being shouted over the sound of the table scraping against the floor with every thrust. She was melting in his arms, their pants and moans being carried out by the open balcony doors. The world was falling apart like golden flecks of a fire.

Desire and longing ensnared them, guiding their movements like a crazed puppeteer.

“Angel, what have you done to me?” His words barely made it out as she clenched around him and heaven was roaring in Oscar’s ears.

Faster—quicker— “Fuck” — her hair was twined between his fingers, tugging, biting, aching— “Oscar!”—rougher—his hand was wrapped around her throat.

Her nails traveled to the taught muscles of his back and he leaned further into her, his hand anchored around her neck and face buried in her hair.

Pulling, dragging, sinking.

Her name, another whisper he muttered against her ear followed by a “I’m yours.”

She cried out.

The apartment was in sweet distress, they didn’t keep to one spot for long.

Oscar let the floodgates open and at that moment only he and the moon heard her screaming as she came with him. The streets below were still too hectic, never sleeping. Too loud.

She gently took hold of his face, sighing as her thumbs gently ran over his cheek bones. Their breath struggled to steady in their rib cages as his weight settled against her. Biting her lip she observed him and the mess they had made. “Mon ange, que vais je faire de toi?”

And they started again.

tag list: @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy (let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list <3)

[theonottsbxtch]

SWAN LAKE PT 2 | OP81

part one

an: hello this is a part of a collab i did with my beloved @iimplicitt i hope you enjoy!

wc: 4.1k

THE SHEETS WERE SOFT AGAINST HER SKIN, tangled around her legs as she stretched lazily beneath them. Morning light filtered through the open balcony doors, casting golden streaks across the floor, over the bed, over him.

Oscar stood near the window, half-dressed, buttoning his shirt with slow, methodical movements. His hair was still a little tousled, his skin still marked from the night before. He hadn’t noticed she was awake yet. He was watching her.

She kept her eyes closed for a moment longer, letting him look.

Then, deliberately, she shifted, stretching her arms above her head, arching her back just slightly. When she opened her eyes, his gaze had dropped to her bare shoulder, the exposed curve of her spine where the sheets had slipped low.

She smirked. “See something you like?”

His lips quirked at the edges, but he didn’t bite. Instead, he finished buttoning his shirt and exhaled, amused. “You might be a little sore today.”

She huffed a quiet laugh, rolling onto her side. “You can’t get the role of Odile without a few sacrifices.”

Oscar blinked, brow furrowing slightly. “That supposed to mean something?”

She turned her head into the pillow, smiling against the linen. “Or so they say.”

His confusion didn’t fade. She could feel it thickening in the air between them, could see it in the way he tilted his head slightly, watching her like a puzzle he hadn’t quite figured out yet.

Then—hesitation. A beat of silence. And finally: “What do they say?”

She sighed, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling. “That I slept with my stage director to get the role.”

Something in his expression sharpened.

She turned her head to look at him, searching his face, waiting for the usual flicker of doubt, of suspicion.

But it didn’t come.

He just stood there, watching her. Silent.

She inhaled slowly, gaze flickering past him to the city beyond the balcony. “Now I’ve slept with a Formula One driver,” she murmured, voice quiet, wry. “Won’t be long until they hear.”

Oscar’s jaw flexed, just slightly.

She smiled, but there was no humour in it. “That’s Paris for you.”

The words hung between them.

And for the first time since she met him last night, Oscar didn’t have a clever reply.

She pushed the sheets off her body, the cool air kissing her bare skin as she moved. The stretch of muscle, the lingering ache in her limbs—it was a familiar soreness, one she was used to, though for entirely different reasons.

Slipping on a pair of black lace underwear, she straightened and ran a hand through her hair before glancing at him. “Last night was good.”

Oscar didn’t respond immediately. He was watching her, hands hanging loosely at his sides. His gaze dragged over her, slow and measured, like he was committing something to memory.

She held it for a moment, let him look, then turned away, reaching for the clothes scattered across the floor. His jumper was there too, discarded carelessly from when she’d pulled it off him, but she ignored it. Instead, she grabbed a pair of sheer tights and the loose jumper she’d worn to the bar last night.

“I need to get back to Garnier,” she said as she tugged the jumper over her head.

Oscar exhaled through his nose, like he already knew she was going to say that. “I’ll drive you.”

She almost declined. Almost told him she could take the Métro, that she didn’t need him chauffeuring her around like some kind of thing that belonged to him.

But then she thought of the eyes that would be on her the moment she stepped outside. 

She pulled her hair into a loose bun and looked at him. “Fine.”

He gave a small, satisfied nod and leaned against the wall, watching as she moved into the tiny kitchenette.

She made the coffee in silence, the way she always did—black, strong, nothing sweet to soften the bitterness.

Oscar had moved to stand behind her by the time she took the first sip. Close, but not too close. Close enough for her to feel the weight of his presence, but not close enough to touch.

She set one of the cups on the counter beside him and reached for the cigarette pack lying next to it. She slid one between her lips, then flicked the lighter, the flame briefly illuminating her face before she inhaled.

Smoke curled between them, dissolving into the morning light.

Oscar watched her as she exhaled, then shook his head slightly, smirking. “Didn’t have you down as a morning smoker.”

She raised a brow. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

His smirk didn’t fade.

She took another drag, then, on impulse, turned and held it out to him.

Oscar wasn’t much of a smoker. She could tell by the way he hesitated, by the brief flicker of uncertainty.

But then he took it anyway. Brought it to his lips. Inhaled, slow.

She watched as his throat bobbed when he swallowed the smoke, watched the way his mouth parted slightly when he exhaled.

Something dark and amused curled in her stomach. “You look good like that.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, handing the cigarette back. “Careful,” he murmured, low and lazy. “Might start thinking you actually like me.”

She blew the smoke out between her teeth and smiled. “Wouldn’t go that far.”

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head, and then drained the rest of his coffee. “Come on,” he said, pushing off the counter. “Let’s get you back before Paris starts talking.”

She smirked. “Hate to break it to you, but Paris never stopped.”

His gaze flickered to hers. And for the first time that morning, he didn’t have a joke.

He just grabbed his keys and held the door open.

And without another word, she walked through it.

The streets of Paris were still slow with morning, the air crisp and cool against her skin as they stepped outside. She tugged her jumper further down her arms, rolling her shoulders as she walked beside him.

Oscar didn’t say much. Neither did she. The silence between them wasn’t uncomfortable—just easy, like the aftermath of something inevitable.

They turned a corner, and she recognised the street immediately. Luxury hotels lined the boulevard, polished and pristine, their facades untouched by time.

And then she saw it.

A sleek, low-slung McLaren parked just outside the entrance to one of the grandest hotels. The kind of car that didn’t belong on these streets, that looked too modern against the history of the city.

She huffed a quiet laugh. “Who the hell brings a car like that to Paris?”

Oscar didn’t respond. Just pulled his keys from his pocket and pressed a button.

The McLaren chirped. Its headlights flashed.

She stopped walking.

He glanced at her, amused. “Problem?”

She looked from the car to him, narrowing her eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

He grinned. “You’re just jealous.”

She scoffed, shaking her head as she crossed her arms. “Paris wasn’t built for cars like that.”

Oscar leaned in slightly, dropping his voice. “And yet, here I am.”

She didn’t dignify that with a response.

Instead, she stepped forward, running her fingers lightly over the smooth, dark paint. The car was beautiful, sleek and untouchable—just like its owner.

Oscar watched her with something unreadable in his expression.

Then he stepped around to the passenger side and opened the door.

“Get in,” he said, smirking.

She exhaled through her nose. Shook her head.

And then—because the city was already talking, because the damage was already done, because, for some reason, she didn’t hate the way he looked at her—

She slid inside.

The McLaren purred to a stop outside the Palais Garnier, sleek and predatory against the backdrop of old Paris. Even through the tinted windows, she could see people turning their heads—passersby, stagehands loitering near the side entrance, a few dancers filtering in for morning rehearsals.

She sighed. “Subtle as ever.”

Oscar smirked, drumming his fingers against the wheel. “You love it.”

She huffed but didn’t argue. Instead, she reached for the door handle, pausing only when she felt his gaze on her.

“You alright?” His voice was easy, but there was something behind it. Something quieter.

She forced a grin. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Oscar held her stare for a second longer. Then, with a shake of his head, he looked away. “Go on then,” he muttered. “Go make Paris talk some more.”

She hummed, pushed open the door, and stepped out.

The air outside was sharp with a chill of early morning, but the weight of eyes on her was sharper.

She didn’t look at them. Didn’t react to the whispered conversations or the not-so-subtle glances. She simply smoothed down her jumper, rolled her shoulders back, and walked towards the stage door.

By the time she stepped inside, the murmurs had already started.

She ignored them.

The corridors of the Palais Garnier smelled like old wood, resin, and sweat, the scent woven into the very foundation of the theatre. She moved through them on instinct, nodding briefly at a few dancers she passed, stepping over a pair of discarded pointe shoes near the costume department.

It wasn’t until she reached her dressing room that she stopped.

The air inside was still. The scent of perfume and powder and theatre dust lingered.

And then she saw it.

The mirror.

And the word smeared across the glass in bold, red lipstick.

Slut.

For a moment, she just stood there.

A day ago, it would have knocked the breath from her chest, sent something cold and ugly curling in her stomach. But now—

Now it was almost funny.

She tilted her head slightly, exhaling through her nose. The irony wasn’t lost on her.

They had called her worse. They had whispered about her, speculated about her, assumed they knew her, as if their own lives weren’t fuelled by quiet scandals and well-dressed betrayals.

The only difference now was that the words weren’t hushed in dressing room corners or slipped between conversation.

Now, they were written in red.

She stepped forward, fingers brushing over the lipstick, smudging the last letter slightly.

Then, without another thought, she grabbed a cloth from the vanity, wiped the word away, and turned away.

She stood in the centre of the stage, breathless. The vast emptiness of the Palais Garnier stretched around her, but she didn’t see the ornate balconies or the golden angels watching from above. She saw only the mirror in her dressing room. The word smeared across it in a cruel shade of red.

Her ribs expanded, contracted—too fast. She forced the breath to slow, forced her muscles to obey as she lifted her arms into position. Her body was a machine, drilled to perfection. It did not care about whispered rumours or the ghosts of last night still lingering on her skin.

The music started, and she moved.

She didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter. Every step, every pirouette, was a violent declaration: I am still here. Her pointe shoes struck the stage like a battle cry. The ache in her limbs was a welcome distraction, the burn of exertion preferable to the one left by Oscar’s hands on her waist.

She hated that she could still feel him.

He was meant to be a moment—a fleeting thing, like the flicker of city lights against a speeding car window. But now he was here, tangled in her thoughts, pressing against her like the weight of expectation. Like the judgement lurking in every corner of this theatre.

Her vision blurred. Sweat dripped down her spine. The music crescendoed, and she leapt, pushing herself higher, harder, until she landed with a sharp, jarring force.

A mistake.

She never made mistakes.

She exhaled, steadying herself. She would dance until there was nothing left but movement. Until her body was raw and her mind was silent. Until there was no room for guilt, no room for regret, no room for the boy with fast hands and a reckless mouth.

The music started again.

And so did she.

She danced until the edges of her vision darkened, until her breath came in ragged gasps and her muscles trembled beneath the strain. She pushed harder, let the pain become her anchor. If she danced enough, if she bled herself dry on this stage, perhaps it would be enough to silence the storm in her head.

But it wasn’t.

The mirror in her dressing room still existed. The word still sat there, seared into her memory, as if it had been scrawled across her own skin instead.

Her foot slipped. Just slightly—just enough for her to feel the flaw.

She hissed through her teeth and forced herself back into the rhythm, but the mistake clung to her. Another crack in her precision. Another fracture she couldn’t ignore.

A door creaked open in the distance, footsteps echoing through the empty theatre. She didn’t stop. Didn’t acknowledge whoever had come to watch her self-destruction. If it was her stage director, he would only remind her that rehearsals hadn’t started yet. If it was another dancer, they would only watch in silence, waiting to see if the rumours were true.

But when the footsteps stopped, they were closer than she expected. Too close.

She spun, body poised to snap at whoever dared to interrupt—

And there he was.

Oscar.

Standing in the shadows of the theatre, hands in the pockets of his jacket, head tilted just slightly as he watched her.

Something inside her twisted. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t see her like this, raw and shaking, a woman undone by the weight of a single word.

She lifted her chin, a silent warning. “What are you doing here?”

His lips twitched at the edges, but it wasn’t quite a smirk. “You left your scarf in my car.”

She didn’t move. Didn’t let herself react. She hadn’t even realised it was missing.

Oscar took a step forward, then another. The stage lights cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp angles, the dark intent in his gaze. “I thought you might want it back.”

She should tell him to leave. Should turn her back and start dancing again, let him know exactly where he belonged in her life—nowhere.

But she didn’t.

Because beneath the exhaustion, beneath the anger curling in her ribs, there was something else.

A spark. A pull. A memory of last night, of heat and recklessness, of hands gripping the balcony rail as he ruined her in the open air.

She hated that he was here.

She hated that she wanted him to stay.

And Oscar, perceptive as ever, saw it.

He stepped onto the stage.

She didn’t stop him.

And that was her second mistake of the morning.

Oscar moved with the kind of confidence that made her breath catch in her throat. He belonged in fast cars, on city streets, in places where speed blurred consequence. He did not belong here, beneath the gilded chandeliers of the Palais Garnier, on the stage where she had bled for perfection.

And yet, he walked towards her like he was meant to.

She should stop him. Should tell him to turn around, to take her scarf and whatever was left of last night and disappear.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she stayed perfectly still, forcing her muscles into cold, quiet control as he stepped closer.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the scarf—soft, pale fabric, the colour of fresh cream, delicate against his rougher hands. He held it between them, a silent offering.

“You didn’t have to bring it,” she said, voice carefully even.

He tilted his head slightly. “I know.”

The way he looked at her made something shift beneath her ribs, something she refused to name. He was watching her too closely, gaze sweeping over the sweat-dampened skin of her throat, the unsteady rise and fall of her chest. He saw too much.

She snatched the scarf from his hand and turned away, retreating to the edge of the stage, to the safety of distance. “You should go.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, the sound of his footsteps moving towards her.

She spun to face him. “I’m serious.”

He didn’t stop. “So am I.”

Frustration flared, sharp and unwelcome. “This isn’t your world, Oscar.”

His mouth curved slightly. “No? You seemed happy to bring me into it last night and letting me drive you here a minute ago.”

Heat flashed up her spine, tangled in something darker. “That was different.”

He reached for her. Not to grab, not to restrain—just to touch. Just the barest brush of his fingers against her wrist, but it was enough to set her off balance.

She yanked her arm back, breathing too hard, standing too close to the edge of something she didn’t want to name.

Oscar watched her for a moment, then exhaled, shaking his head. “I saw your mirror.”

Her stomach dropped.

He shoved his hands back into his pockets, gaze steady. “Someone really doesn’t like you.”

She forced herself to hold his stare. Forced herself to keep her voice detached, as if it didn’t matter. “It’s nothing.”

His jaw tightened. “It’s not nothing.”

She wanted to laugh. Wanted to ask him what he thought he could do about it. He was a man who lived in a world of speed and adrenaline, of roaring engines and champagne-soaked podiums. He didn’t know what it was like to exist under the weight of constant scrutiny, to have every moment of her life measured against an impossible standard.

But she didn’t say any of that. She just shook her head and turned away.

Oscar let out a low breath, something unreadable flickering in his expression. For a second, she thought he might leave.

But then he spoke.

“What if I stayed?”

The question was quiet. Uncertain. A dangerous thing.

She went still. “Why would you do that?”

A beat of silence. Then—

“Because I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”

Her throat tightened.

She shouldn’t let him in. Shouldn’t let him see the cracks in the walls she had spent years building.

But she was tired. And the word on her mirror was still there, still bleeding into her thoughts no matter how hard she tried to scrub it away.

So she didn’t tell him to leave.

She didn’t say anything at all.

And Oscar, reckless as ever, took that as permission.

Oscar didn’t say another word. Instead, he turned, disappearing into the wings. For a brief second, she thought he had actually left—had come to his senses, had realised that whatever this was between them had no place here.

But then she heard it.

The scrape of wood against the stage.

He emerged from the shadows, dragging a chair from backstage. He set it down just off-centre, angled slightly towards her, and then, with the same ease he had behind the wheel of a car, he sank into it.

And watched.

She exhaled sharply through her nose, turning her back on him. If he wanted to sit there, fine. Let him watch. Let him see exactly how little he mattered.

The music started again, and she threw herself into the routine.

But her body betrayed her.

Her turns weren’t as sharp as they should have been, her leaps lacked the effortless grace she had spent years perfecting. And then—

A misstep.

Not a large one, nothing anyone else might notice, but she felt it. The failure.

Her breath caught.

She reset, started again.

Another mistake.

Another crack in her precision.

Again.

And again.

And with each failure, she felt it. Him. Sitting there, watching in silence. The weight of his gaze pressing against her skin, seeing every flaw, every falter.

She hated it.

She hated him.

She hated that, last night, she had been perfect beneath him, and now, here, on the stage where it actually mattered, she was falling apart.

A slow clap echoed through the theatre.

Not Oscar.

Her entire body stiffened. She didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

Charles.

“Magnificent,” he drawled, the sarcasm dripping from his monegasque accent like honey laced with poison. “Truly, a masterclass in mediocrity.”

Her jaw clenched as she turned. He stood in the centre aisle, impeccably dressed as always, his sharp features pulled into a smirk.

Oscar shifted in his seat, but she ignored him.

“Are you here to gloat, Charles?” she said coolly.

Charles pressed a hand to his chest, mock-wounded. “Me? Gloat? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She said nothing. She just stared at him, waiting.

And, as always, he filled the silence.

“You know,” he mused, stepping closer, “it’s fascinating, really. The way people talk about you.”

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.

“They think you’re untouchable,” he continued, eyes gleaming. “They think you’ve earned your place here.” He tilted his head, watching her too closely. “And yet, it seems they’re not so sure anymore.”

Her pulse pounded in her ears.

She knew what he was doing. He wanted to shake her, wanted to remind her that no matter how hard she worked, how ruthlessly she pushed herself, there would always be whispers. That there would always be people who thought she hadn’t bled enough for this.

Because of him.

Because he had spent too long watching her like she was something he could claim. Because he had hovered too close, spoken too softly, let his admiration curdle into obsession.

She had never touched him.

But no one believed that.

And Charles, the sick bastard, enjoyed it.

Her nails dug into her palms. “Say what you came to say, Charles.”

His smirk widened. “Careful,” he murmured, stepping close enough for his breath to ghost over her cheek. “You’re starting to sound like me.”

Her stomach turned. She clenched her jaw, refusing to step back, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her flinch.

A slow, deliberate cough cut through the tension.

Charles’s attention flicked past her, to where Oscar still sat. Not tense, not glaring—just watching.

Something cold flickered in Charles’s expression. “Ah,” he said, his voice quieter now. “So that’s what this is about?”

Oscar leaned back in his chair, legs sprawled, arms draped lazily over the sides. A study in nonchalance. “Don’t stop on my account,” he said, voice smooth. “I’m enjoying the show.”

Charles’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Something inside her twisted—something sharp, something vindictive. She didn’t want Oscar here. But if Charles hated it, then maybe she didn’t mind so much.

She smiled, slow and deliberate. “You should go, Charles.”

His jaw ticked.

And then, with an exhale, he stepped back. Smoothed down his suit. Offered her one last, amused glance.

“I do hope you get your footing back,” he murmured, voice silk-smooth. “I’d hate to think you were slipping.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the theatre until he disappeared.

Silence settled between her and Oscar.

She turned back to the stage, fixing her posture, steadying her breath.

Behind her, the chair creaked as Oscar leaned forward. “Charles, huh?”

Her movements stilled for half a second. Then she glanced at him over her shoulder. “You know him?”

Oscar let out a quiet huff, more amused than anything. “Well, he definitely knows me.”

She turned fully now, brow furrowing.

Oscar stretched out his legs, his arms draped lazily over the back of the chair, like this whole thing was funny to him. “You really don’t know who he is?”

She shrugged, unimpressed. “He’s my stage director. He’s annoying. That’s all I need to know.”

Oscar raised a brow. “Yeah, and he also owns my rival Formula One team.”

That caught her off guard.

She stared at him, processing. “What?”

Oscar tilted his head slightly, watching her reaction. “Charles Leclerc. Former F1 driver. Retired six years ago—one of the youngest to do it. Took over his family’s team, turned them into one of the biggest powerhouses in the sport.” He leaned forward, smirking. “You really had no idea?”

She frowned, arms crossing over her chest. “No. Why would I?”

Oscar shook his head, laughing under his breath. “That’s a first.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever met someone in any country who doesn’t know who Charles Leclerc is.” His smirk widened. “Kind of refreshing, actually.”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Well, forgive me for not following your stupid little sport.”

Oscar smirked but didn’t take the bait. Instead, he glanced towards the spot where Charles had stood moments ago, his expression turning more contemplative. “Makes sense, though.”

She frowned. “What does?”

“The way he looked at me.” Oscar exhaled, shaking his head. “Like he’d already lost.”

Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten.

She swallowed, forcing herself to look away. To turn back to the stage, to the music, to anything other than the thought of Charles losing something that was never his to begin with.

Oscar didn’t say anything else.

He just sat back.

And this time, when she danced, she didn’t miss a single step.

the end.

taglist: @alexisquinnlee-bc @carlossainzapologist @oikarma @obxstiles @verstappenf1lecccc @hzstry8 @dying-inside-but-its-classy @anamiad00msday @linnygirl09 @mastermindbaby @iamred-iamyellow @driverlando

[gguk-n]

Hii!! Could you make a Oscar!smau that they are childhood best friends and start dating (smau thoughout the years pleease!!)

I’m sorry!! I’m obsessed with this song since the snippet came out…so the face claim is Tate McRae😅 I hope you like it!!

Sports Car

2015

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by oscarpiastri and 9,203 others Tagged oscarpiastri

y/n.y/l/n #tb to when Oscar was actually cute

oscarpiastri 🤦🤦 user1 they are the cutest!! user2 I want a best friend like them user3 ❤️❤️😭

2017

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by oscarpiastri and 4,390 others Tagged oscarpiastri

y/n.y/l/n You're looking at 2017's P2 at F4!! So proud of you Oscie!!😭😭

oscarpiastri thanks❤️ user4 Congratulations!!❤️❤️ y/friend/user cutie!!😍 y/friend Congrats Oscar!!❤️

2020

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by oscarpiastri and 134,789 others Tagged oscarpiastri

y/n.y/l/n F3 Champion!!! Can't believe it!!😭😭

oscarpiastri Thanks for being there for my win!! user5 I forget you have a career and you aren't just a Oscar fanpage😳😳 user6 user5 What does she do? user5 user6 She's a singer and song writer!! user7 who is this?? user8 user7 her bestfriend but we’re hoping they’ll date

2021

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by oscarpiastri and 256,927 others Tagged oscarpiastri

y/n.y/l/n F3 than F2 back to back and reserve driver for Alpine!! I'm here for it!!

oscarpiastri All because of my lucky charm Liked by Author user9 girl!! Date him already!!🙏🙏 user10 These two couldn't be more obvious!!🤌 user11 I don't even watch races but I did because of you and god that boy's in love with you, end his misery!!🥺🥺

2024

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 450,380 others

y/n.y/l/n 2 hands out now!!

user16 why did we think it was Lando when Oscar existed🤨🤨?? user17 how are people shipping her and Lando🧐🧐?? user18 Oscar's been pining for years😭😭!! user19 I didn't think she'd actually have anyone but the Oscar reveal in the end was hot🥵🥵 user20 they can't be friends, not after that mv😳😳 oscarpiastri loved being in the video🧡 y/n.y/l/n oscarpiastri thank oscie🧡🧡 landonorris good taste😏 y/n.y/l/n landonorris ikr😏 landonorris y/n.y/l/n I was talking about the car😒

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by oscarpiastri, oliviarodrigo and 1,289,209 others Tagged oscarpiastri and mclaren

y/l/.y/l/n What a way to end the year😍😍!!

oscarpiastri Congrats on your tour😍😍!! y/n.y/l/n oscarpiastri Congrats on your championship baby boy😭😭 user12 Both of them are winning😍😍 user13 y/n in orange is fucking everything😭😭😭 user14 I love them❤️❤️ user15 y/n calling Oscar baby boy was not on my 2024 bingo😳😳 oliviarodrigo Orange is your colour babe🧡🧡

2025

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and 920,370 others

y/n.y/l/n But've got a sports car

user21 OMG!! ITS FINALLY HAPPENEING🤭🤭 user22 I can't be normal about this😔😔 user23 I have no one to talk to about this😭😭 user24 my parents are finally together🥹🥹 user25 what is he doing to her😏😏 user26 banger❤️❤️ user27 I didn't know you had game oscarpiastri🧐

oscarpiastri

Liked by y/n.y/l/n, mclaren and 1,290,345 others Tagged y/n.y/l/n

oscarpiastri I got a sports car

user28 this is fucking crazy🤌 user29 did he just....🫢🫢 user30 I need the season back, this is crazy. First Franco and now him😭😣 user31 They are so cute😫😫 user32 I want what they have😩😩 y/n.y/l/n ik😏Liked by Author lando y/n.y/l/n you two are freaky🤢🤢 y/n.y/l/n lando oh shut up, like you haven't👀 mclaren OKAY you three please 🙏 🙏🙏

[checkeredflagggs]

A Perfect Storm

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: meet dr. alice “barbie” sargaent, professional storm chaser

a/n: so twisters 2024 changed my life (glen powell in wet white T-shirt changed my life) so…here’s this. Also I got conflicting info about instagram so for here - no one but those that follow you can see a private accounts comments (even on a public post). Also plz suspend your disbelief - idk anything about storm chasing or tornadoes

Part 2

drbarbie

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 2,345,239 others

drbarbie: tbt to the very first storm I ‘chased’ and the lifelong obsession that it sparked within me!

view all comments

user1: you were so young!

teammember1: nice to know you’ve been crazy for years! 😂❤️

drbarbie: Passionate! The term is passionate 🩵

teammember2: no I think crazy is better

user2: ok but what are Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri doing in the likes…

user3: right?

user4: maybe they watch the Storm Wrangler YouTube channel?

user3: that would be the crossover of the century!

teammate3: awwww baby Dr. Barbie…

drbarbie: I think I made my dad drive around for hours trying to find where the rain was actually coming down

user4: ok that’s adorable

user5: newbie here 👋🏻 why the nickname Barbie?

drbarbie: I’m a 5’11” blonde woman with blue eyes who was in like every conceivable sport and after school program. Some butt starting calling me Barbie as a joke and now people forget my real name 😅

user6: wait your name isn’t actually Barbie? What’s real? What’s fake? Who knows? 🤣

drbarbie: yeah you can blame my twin for that…

loganpriv: you begged for weeks to get a cool nickname and were delighted! To tell people to call you Barbie.

alicepriv: shush 🤐

oscarpriv: oh really?

alicepriv: I said shut up?

user7: you have a twin?!

drbarbie: yup! I’m older then him by about 5 minutes - and I’ve never let him forget it 😂

loganpriv: and another lie! What’s up with that?

alicepriv: I’m gonna tell mom you’re bullying me!

loganpriv: do it! And I’ll tell her you’re lying to the internet

logansargeant

liked by alicepriv, oscarpiastri, and 1,023,677 others

logansargeant: traveling means time to catch up with TheStormWranglers

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user8: you’re a buckaroo too?! Love this!

oscarpiastri: watching the back episodes or the live stream?

logansargeant: back episodes first of course!

user9: ok but they’re both buckaroos too

user10: am i dumb? Buckaroos?

user11: kinda a you had to be there moment - during one of their first live streams teammate2 called everyone on the team buckaroos to get them moving and the fans just? kinda adopted the term for ourselves

user10: ohhhh ok. That makes sense and it’s so cute! Proud to be a buckaroo!

user12: this is gonna be your week Logan!

user13: yeah! Austin has always been really good to you! 🩵

alicepriv: so I’m gonna hold your hand when I say this…

loganpriv: what does that mean?

oscarpriv: Alice…

drbarbie

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 3,677,345 others

drbarbie: isn’t she a beaut! One of the biggest this year and I’m very happy to say Dolly (and us!) survived it!!! The opportunity to quite literally drive into the storm started as a fever dream from a few of the team members but we proved that it could be done. And this now allows us to gather even more important data — and as we always say, you can never have too much data!

view all comments

user14: Watching that almost gave me a heart attack oh my god

user15: i know! And they didn’t even give us any warning that it was something they could do!!!😡😢

drbarbie: We apologize! The team had been so excited and focused on getting Dolly ready for this that we forgot other people don’t live in our brains

user14: what even prompted this?

drbarbie: we were hitting bumps in the research process and as we were brainstorming ideas on how to fix it someone said that the easiest way was to…just go into the tornado. We said “bet” then figured out a way to allow us to do that safely!

teammember1: so I’m switching vehicles. I’m staying with the weather van from now on

drbarbie: oh it wasn’t that bad!

teammember1: I have about 200 new strands of grey hairs and a sore throat from all the screaming

drbarbie: like I said! Not that bad

user16: oh so you’re crazy crazy

drbarbie: we’re doing important research!

user17: what even was the point of all this?

drbarbie: my team and I are researching for a way that would allow us to stop a tornado in its tracks. We’re at the point where we can almost completely accurately predict when and where a tornado will hit — which is hugely important! Cause that allows us to save lives. But my team wants to take it a step further — to stop the storms when they do hit! To help protect people’s livelihoods

user17: holy shit! That’s huge!

user18: I didn’t even realize that is something that could be possible!

drbarbie: we believe strongly that it’s something that can be done. And we’re trying everything that we can to make it happen!

loganpriv: what the hell is this?!?

alicepriv: i told you you wouldn’t like it

oscarpriv: yes but there’s a huge difference between not liking it and it being completely INSANE

alicepriv: the theory was sound

loganpriv: this time - that’s not good enough

INCOMING CALL

ACCEPT OR DECLINE

ACCEPT

TRANSCRIPT

What the hell Alice? Driving into a tornado?

Oh don’t even Logan! Not when the two of you drive those super speed death traps!

That’s not even remotely the same and you know it!

…I know. Ok I know…

Alice…

Don’t. I know I should have told you before but…

Barbs?

I know you don’t like this answer but the theory was sound. We reached out and talked to like 10 different universities on the best way to modify the car and took all the extra precautions we could. The science-

doesn’t lie…

Haha

…you’re ok?

I think my heart is still racing but yes. And it’s almost done!

What is?

Project Aeolus!

Really?

TRANSCRIPT CONTINUES

logansargeant

liked by alicepriv, alexalbon, oscarpiastri, and 627,933 others

logansargeant: ahhhh Austin, my home away from home. It’s always good to come back to you — and the people that live there 🩵

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user19: IS THAT A GIRL LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT?

user20: are we soft launching now?

alexalbon: Did you get a puppy?

logansargeant: no 🤣 just pet sitting for the day! This is rascal!

alexalbon: i think it might be criminal if you don’t let me meet rascal!

logansargeant: I’ll ask! But it will probably have to be after COTA!

alexalbon: worth the wait!

user21: rascal? Like drbarbie’s newest puppy?

user22: no but that dog looks just like her new dog and we know that Logan is a buckaroo!

user21: I've connected the two dots

user23: You didn't connect shit

user22: I've connected them

user24: are my 2 fandoms colliding?

alicepriv: rascal!

loganpriv: i see how it is. I come back home and you just want me to watch the little nightmare

alicepriv: rascal is perfectly well behaved! You’re just a bad example

oscarpriv: I’m agreeing with her. We’ve had no problems with him until you came along…

loganpriv: lies and slander. Objection

alicepriv: law and order again logie?

williamsracing

liked by drbarbie, logansargeant, alexalbon, and 4,034,838 others

williamsracing: all smiles here at COTA as we welcome a special guest! Spending the weekend with us is Dr. Barbie, a meteorologist who specializes in tornadoes with a popular YouTube channel The Storm Wranglers!

view all comments

user25: DR BARBIE IN THE HOUSE!

user26: this is everything I didn’t know I needed holy crap

drbarbie: it’s always a pleasure to visit COTA! And it’s even better to visit one of my favorite teams!

williamsracing: so glad to have you here!

user27: ok but do you see the look on Logan’s face?

user28: yeah mans in love

user29: or…and hear me out…he could just be happy to meet her? We know he’s a fan of her channel

user28: no one is ever THAT happy to just “meet” a YouTuber, no matter how famous

logansargeant: Glad you could make time in your schedule to visit!

drbarbie: “But it's the Grand Prix!”

logansargeant: “Is it? Who's playing?”

drbarbie: “No one's playing. It's the Grand Prix. I never miss the Grand Prix.”

user28:…ok maybe you guys connected the dots

alexalbon: it was nice to meet you! Didn’t think I’d ever meet someone who had a more dangerous job then race driving though

drbarbie: same! It was such a pleasure — and don’t even. I’ll take my job over yours any day

alexalbon: really? You’d rather drive after and into tornados then drive in circles?

drbarbie: stupid circles! And yes. Yes I would

alexalbon: they’re not stupid!

user29: ok but they’re funny af

drbarbie

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 2,654,887 others

tagged: williamsracing, logansargeant, alexalbon

yourusername: trading in Dolly this weekend for some faster cars! Zoom zoom 🏎️💨

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user30: COTA! I’m at COTA! 🤞🤞 I might get to meet her and get her signature!

user31: oh my god! That would be the coolest thing ever

user32: you’re at a Grand Prix and meeting some stupid blonde is better?

user31: watch yourself! Dr Barbie is about 1000x better then you are you damn mouth breather

user30: mouth breather? 😂😂

user33: cool you’re at COTA but sargeant? You couldn’t pick literally any other driver to support?

drbarbie: and that’s you blocked. I don’t support hate on my page and I definitely don’t support hate against Logan

user31: you said it so well! Supportive queen!

loganpriv: cool your jets Alice. It’s fine

alicepriv: I don’t support hate but I do support bullying your unsupportive twin. Take that attitude and shove it

oscarpriv: sometimes I forget you’re twins and then I see you interact…

alicepriv: you watch yourself too. I’m soon to be in head smacking range…and I’m tall enough to get you

oscarpriv: yes ma'am

loganpriv: whipped

alicepriv: 🤨

loganpriv: 🤷🏼‍♂️

alicepriv: 🖕🏻

user34: ok but why Dolly?

drbarbie: why after the fabulous Dolly Parton of course

user35: you named your truck after Dolly Parton?

drbarbie: she’s had a lot of work done but she’s still the best

user35: 😂😂 icon behavior

logansargeant

liked by alexalbon, drbarbie, alicepriv, and 1,208,943 others

tagged: drbarbie, williamsracing

logansargeant: THANK YOU AUSTIN!! P3 baby! AND SPECIEAL THANKS TO MY YOUNGER TWIN SISTER ALICE drbarbie!!!

view all comments

user36: SISTER?

drbarbie: yes! He’s my YOUNGER twin brother!

logansargeant: the hell I am!

drbarbie: I HAVE PICTURE OF THE BIRTH CERTIFICATES YOU WET NOODLE

logansargeant: fake!

user36: ok that’s definitely a sibling relationship 😂

drbarbie: HE DID IT! P3!! CONGRATS LOGIE!

teammate1: woohoo! Go baby sargeant!

teammate2: congrats baby sargeant!

teammate3: could you feel us cheering for you baby sargeant?

teammate4: couldn’t be prouder baby sargeant!

logansargeant: not you guys too…

oscarpiastri: congrats man! A well deserved podium!

logansargeant: thanks brother!

user37: brother?!? dots are connecting again!

user38: oh give it up

alexalbon: great race today dude! Congrats!

logansargeant: thank you! You’ll be next!

williamsracing: Congrats Logan!

user39: he saw us shipping him with his sister and said hell no 😂😂

user40: right? Most definitely had to set the record straight!

danielricciardo: good job man!

charles_leclerc: great to share the podium with you!

maxverstappen1: good race!

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, alicepriv, landonorris, and 2,567,432 others

tagged: mclaren, landonorris

oscarpiastri: not the race we wanted today but we’ll come back stronger next week. Congrats on p4 landonorris and congrats to logansargeant on your first podium!

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user41: don’t worry about it Oscar! You’ll get it next week!

landonorris: thanks man! next week will be our week for sure!! papaya rules!

oscarpiastri: for sure! Papaya rules!

user42: it might not have been your week but that overtake lap 12 was INSANE

user43: right? Pretty sure I woke my dog up screaming

alicepriv: it was a good race babe. Glad to have been there to see it 🧡🧡

oscarpriv: you know I always love it when you can come to a race

alicepriv: and you know I always love watching you working for your dream

oscarpriv: 🧡

loganpriv: cheesy

alicepriv: 🖕🏻

alicepriv: anyway…

alicepriv: maybe I can get you to come to my job next? 😆😘

oscarpriv: your job at the universities? Yes. Your job in the field? No way in hell

logansargeant: great race brother! Taking notes on that overtake man

oscarpiastri: thanks Logan!

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, drbarbie, landonorris, and 3,728,899 others

tagged: drbarbie

oscarpiastri: you are the best thing that’s ever been mine

Comments have been disabled for this post

Part 2

[lvndosnorris]

kissing oscar’s little freckles on his body and face while u lay awake at midnight with him. his big biceps wrapped around your waist mmfhdug

there was no reason for either of you to be awake, the clock reading four minutes past twelve as you giggled sleepily. you'd been in this state for the past few hours — cheek pressed to his bare chest as he traced over your back, the pads of his fingers gentle as they curved over your spine and across your shoulder blades.

pushing up on your forearms you watched as he accustomed to your face, the darkness of the room becoming so sleep-inviting that you knew you'd both be unconscious in no time. you'd reiterated several times already that night how pretty you thought he was, oscar's face burning up and fighting to hide in the crook of his arm every single time — yet it didn't deter you, instead only encouraging the attention.

your voice was soft, merely a whisper as you leant down until your nose brushed his, "it's been ages since i've had you like this — completely to myself..."

and it was true — the both of you having busy schedules meant moments like this, nights like this, happened rarely. you ghosted your mouth over his cheeks, peppering small kisses as you moved your head to his jaw. a hum of content vibrated past oscar's lips as he made some incoherent, passing comment about how he'll make an effort to make it happen more often. it was like he melted under your touch, eyelids heavy as the corner of his mouth tugged his lips into a lazy, lopsided smile.

he squeezed you, an attempt to bring you as close to him as possible. fuck, he would have you living between his bones if he had the chance.

your kisses connected the little constellations of freckles that decorated his skin, breath hot as it fanned over him. neither of you needed to talk further, all gossip and conversations already exhausted as you focused on tipping him over the edge into slumber.

[boiohboii]

The Twitter Marriage

(Oscar Piastri x fem!driver!reader)

Yn Ln has had a crush on fellow driver Oscar Piastri since their f2 days but she never and will never tell him.... at least not to his face

or

In which Aston Martin driver needed the alcohol to confess her feelings

N.B: rushed a bit cause of finals, but I hope you like it. Also, doesn't follow any timeline tbh. NOTHING IN THIS IS ADDS UP IN REGARDS OF DATES AND CHARACTERS AND STUFF, IT IS JUST FOR FUN.

WARNINGS: REALLY BAD PICK UP LINES, SOME SWEAR WORDS. Probably some spelling mistakes as well. Short fic.

faceclaim: sabrina carpenter

Masterlist

Liked by ynmyworld, f1memes, charliethesinglemom and 168,920 others

Keepingupw/f1: Aston Martin driver, Yn Ln, tweets as she celebrates her p3 in Monaco.... it seems like she has something to say to fellow driver, Oscar Piastri.

username: the entire grid is just having fun with that joke.

username: miss ma'am, STAND UP!!

username: what do you mean stand up? SHE FOLDED LIKE A CHAIR

username: understandably so tbf

username: no but her offering to make Spain Oscar's home race LIKE CARLOS ISN'T LOOKING FOR THAT MAN'S BLOOD.

username: so foul of her 💀

username: her tagging him is insane

username: pr is gonna have a headache tomorrow

username: the fact that she's tweeting this shit while in a club, WHERE OSCAR IS A FEW METERS AWAY FROM HER

username: you know she's out of it when she starts using twitter.

Liked by F1_updates_live, ynmyqueen, oscaroopastryy and 184,710 others

Keepingupw/f1: yn ln on her way back to the hotel last night after celebrating her Monaco podium.

username: she got wasted omg

username: now those tweets make sense

username: where did she even get the shoe box from

username: and where did her shoes go, papers fell out of that thing

username: so are you guys gonna post the video or?

username: what video?

username: there's a video going on twitter where these pics are taken from she was so drunk, she was actually dancing in the middle of Monaco (go queen, live your best life) and then the papers fell out of the box and she immediately went down to pick them up and put them back but then after she was halfway through she kept looking at the ground then at the box and then at her feet, you can see her pouting as she kept putting away the little papers in the box again

username: shut upp!!! I need that video! IT IS A LIFE SAVING MATTER ATP

username: yn ln is gonna be the death of me

yn ln has shared a story

text: when you wake up to a video of drunk you on the streets of Monaco and some tweets that should've gone with you to the grave

yn ln has shared a story

text: self pity and cringe time over, back to our regular schedule of slaying

Sebastian Vettel has shared a story

text: someone tell her that staying with me till the Spanish GP isn't going to make people forget that she exists

yn ln has replied to your story: your kids love me! AND SO DOES HANNA

yn ln has replied to your story: also, please take pity on me, I can't face him again, ever, I will just retire, I can't do this

yn ln has replied to your story: why are you ignoring meeeee!!! Not you too, Oscar is already doing thaaaat, I wanna turn into a worm, I'd die quicker if I was a worm, I wouldn't have to go through this much embarrassment if I was a worm

Sebastian Vettel replied to your message: are you drunk right now?

Liked by pierregasly, wtf1, oscaroopastryy and 268,715 others

Keepingupw/f1: we bring you part 2 of the osyn saga

username: i love this family

username: yn is such a pr nightmare

username: the ACTUAL child of fernando

username: wait, now that you reminded me, I need to update the family tree

username: post the updated family tree you coward

username: anyone who doesn't watch f1 will 100% believe that Charles and Nicole are Oscar's parents

username: hey, don't disrespect charles' heartfelt adoption like that

username: this sport is so fucking unserious

username: I refuse to believe that this is real

Sebastian Vettel has shared a story

Text: huh..... it's not so bad having her here

Liked by OscarPiastri, Charles_leclerc, Arthur_leclerc and 918,037 others

yn ln: let her cook now 🧡

username: yn.... yn..... YN.... WHAT ARE YOU COOKING YN

username: it has started, I can feel it in my bones

username: so she's with Oscar now, good to know (screaming into my pillow as I type)

username: oh so if I wear orange I'm dating Lando now, nice to know ig

username: fuck off away from my replies, I wanna have fun

username: yn pls don't, I can't lose you, you were the only wife left standing

username: PLS TELL ME THAT MY SHIP SAILED

username: if I see that australian's face anywhere on this account I will start biting ankles

username: ok Leo, geez, no need to terrorise your sister-in-law

username: I can't believe she was simping on main for a boy that goes 'wut'

Liked by Ynln, pierregasly, Arthur_leclerc and 890,627 others

Oscar Piastri: let him cook 💚

username: nope, no, nuuh, I see nothing

username: other partner's team colors, matching captions, liking the posts..... yup, they're officially dating

username: we lost her to a mini kimi raikkonen

username: I see that as a win tbh

username: kimi was and is the IT girl of the grid

username: how dare you forget about our very own Britney Spears.... nico you will always be missed

username: you can't prove that they're dating from just that

username: oh boy, the delulu is strong with this one

Oscar Piastri and Yn Ln shared a post

Liked by Charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 903,815 others

Yn ln & Oscar Piastri: I said let them cook 💚🧡

username: YES YES YES YES YES YES

username: MY PARENTS

username: This is why women shouldn't be in f1, wtf is wrong with Oscar? Why would he date yn? And what is this hand placement? Where can I get a yn? Or an oscar?

username: slowly deleting my paragraph

username: had us the first half, ngl

username: yn hide oscar really well during the Spain GP, we leave his safety in your hands

username: THE CURLS OMG

username: MR OSCAR JACK PIASTRI WHAT IS THIS BEHAVIOUR WHAT IS THIS HAND PLACEMENT

[the-offside-rule]

Oscar Piastri (McLaren) - Picturesque

Requested: nope

Warnings: an undeniable feeling of being single

Oscar and Y/n had finally managed to take a well-deserved vacation, escaping to a secluded seaside town where the pace of life was slower, and the views were breathtaking. They had chosen a hotel that Lando had recommended due to how secluded and private it was and since the couple desperately needed some time to be intimate with one another, they obviously looked into it. The hotel was perched on a cliff, with a balcony that offered panoramic views of the ocean.

"I'm so tired. I didnt realise how much I needed to relax." Y/n chuckled as she slumped down on her chair. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, the couple decided to not go to the hotel restaurant for dinner and instead sat across from eachother on their balcony, with some room service. Oscar couldnt take his eyes off his beautiful girlfriend as a gentle breeze rustling through Y/n's hair. The sound of waves crashing against the rocks below was soothing, creating a perfect backdrop for their serene moment. Oscar simply hummed in response as he reached for his Polaroid camera, a recent gift from Y/n. He loved how it captured moments instantly, freezing them in time. He turned to Y/n, who was gazing off into the distance, lost in her thoughts. Her face was softly illuminated by the fading sunlight, and her freckles seemed to glow.

Without a word, Oscar raised the camera and snapped a photo. The familiar whirr and click of the Polaroid brought Y/n back to the present. She turned to him, curiosity sparkling in her eyes as the photo developed. The small polaroid slid out,before Oscar began to shake it slowly. "Youre obsessed eith thag thing." She chuckled, leanjng across the table. "I mean it takes great photos. And I thought you looked pretty so I thought I'd make you my muse." Y/n felt her cheeks heating up from the compliment. "This trip is making you so sappy, babe." Oscar shrugged and looked ag the photo. "Look at this." He said softly. Y/n walked around the table and sat on his lap, looking at the photo. "You look so effortlessly beautiful. Your freckles are perfect."

Y/n took the photo and gazed at it, her heart swelling with affection. In the picture, she appeared peaceful and content, a small smile tugging at her lips as she stared at the horizon. "It's beautiful." She murmured, her voice filled with emotion. Oscar leaned in closer, his eyes reflecting the same warmth and love that filled Y/n's heart. "Just like you." He whispered, planting a gentle kiss onto her cheek. Y/n reached for the camera and got up quickly, a playful glint in her eye. "Your turn." She declared. She pointed the lens at Oscar, who was now gazing at her with a look of pure adoration. She pressed the button, capturing the moment forever.

As the photo developed, Y/n couldn't help but smile. There was Oscar, his eyes locked onto her, a look of undeniable love and devotion etched across his face. She handed him the photo, her heart fluttering. "Look at you." She said, mimicking his earlier words. "You can't take your eyes off me." Oscar chuckled, taking the photo and examining it. "Can you blame me?" He replied, his voice thick with affection. He grabbed the photo of her. "Just look at the view."

Oscar opened his phone case and placed the picture inside gently. “I love it too much. Im keeping this close for when I miss you.” Y/n simply looked at him, a bright smile on her face. “I was thinking the same thing.” Y/n followed suit, carefully sliding the Polaroid into the backs of her phone cases, ensuring it was protected but always visible. The pictures became their little secret, a reminder of this perfect evening and the love they shared.

[grogwrites]

Stranger - O.P. 81

Part One

part one • part two • part three

Summary: When someone returns to Oscar’s life after years apart, he has a hard time finding common ground with her to reconcile the feud between them. That is, until she signs on as a driver for the upcoming F1 season. Then he can’t seem to get her out of his mind.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Female OC

CW: Dual POV series, but part one is all in Oscar’s POV. Part one has some swearing, alcohol consumption, death of a parent which leads to OC becoming an orphan, a lot of angst. This series will contain a lot of angst, and some references to PTSD and death of a loved one—each topics very close to me personally. PTSD is a difficult thing to write and to read, so please take my warnings seriously before continuing on xx

A/N: this is part one in a three part mini series! As usual, I do not use YN on my page, so OC is a named character 😊

Word Count: 4.6k

* DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.

TWELVE YEARS AGO

The first time Oscar saw her was when he was eleven. The race tracks near his house were having a karting event for young drivers, so naturally, his parents signed him up. It was a windy December day, and Oscar’s frustration was at about a ten. He fidgeted with his race suit, as the new material scratched against his skin, overstimulating him with every slight movement that was made. She had been watching him, unbeknownst to Oscar, and made her way over.

“What are you doing?” The young girl demanded from him as he tugged at the collar of the suit. He furrowed his eyebrows at her. She was driving with the league below him, so she was younger by at least a few years. In eleven years old Oscar’s mind, he didn’t know what could’ve possibly possessed a second grader to antagonize a sixth grader. But he was annoyed at the scratchy lilt her that voice contained. He was at the age right now where girls were gross—she was gross.

“What’s it to you?” He barked back. “Don’t you have a race to worry about?” It shocked Oscar when she swept her hand forward, yanking his hand away from the zipper that was currently rubbing against his neck. What surprised him even more was the amount of strength in her tiny hand as her grip tightened around his wrist.

“Stop messing with it,” she hissed. “You’re going to make it worse, you know.” He ripped his arm out of her grasp, then sneered down at her. She had light blonde hair that could’ve been mistaken for white with how bright it was. It was tied back in a small ponytail that was draped over her shoulder—her eyes a vibrant blue, which seemed to accompany the bright pink racing suit she wore.

“You’re, like, what? Five?” Oscar mocked. “What do you know about karting?” The girl took a step back, as if to assess him—to study him. Even if she was younger, she had an overwhelming sense of authority. He shifted uncomfortably as her gaze burned holes through him. Her bossiness and straightforward nature intimidated him slightly. He had never been a confrontational person—he actually tried to avoid it at all costs, usually. If his friends knew some seven or eight year old was getting at him like this, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.

“I know I’m smart enough to wash a suit before wearing it for the first time,” she quipped. “Wearing a brand new suit without breaking in the material is stupid, moron.” Before Oscar could argue with the kid, she turned around and stomped back to her league. His eyes widened at the fact that she just blatantly insulted him. Moron? What normal person even used that term?

As the hours passed, Oscar found himself curious at who the fiery young girl was. After he finished his race, he found himself looking for her at the tracks. When he realized her league was up, he pushed his way towards the front of the crowd to watch her. His eyes eagerly scanned for her prominent pink suit, when he realized she was in the lead. She was fast, too. For being so young, the way she controlled the car was incredible—it was like she was a machine. The crowd seemed to think so as well, as each time she passed by, they were erupting in applause. One man in particular, was cheering like crazy. Oscar looked up, tapping on his arm. The man looked down to him, and smiled. He wore square-framed glasses that laid low on his nose. His hair was dirty blonde, and he wore a pink sweatshirt that correlated with her race suit.

“You won in the league earlier this morning!” The man happily observed. “Congratulations, Mr Piastri.” Oscar frowned.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“I’m Simon Nguyen,” the gentleman introduced. “I went to school with your mother, Nicole.” Oscar nodded slowly, ignoring what he said, then pointed to the track.

“Who is the girl in pink?” He questioned. The man, Simon, laughed at Oscar’s curiosity. He turned to the track again, where the girl sped past once more. He knelt down to his level, pointing to her.

“That is my daughter, Claire,” he explained. His voice was comforting. He spoke about her with so much pride. “She said she met you earlier. She has trouble with manners sometimes, but we’re working on it.”

Oscar turned with Simon to watch the race come to an end, with Claire leading the way. He wondered how he had never met her before at these events, or why his mom never mentioned Simon. But regardless of the questions that seemed to spiral in his head, all he knew was he wanted to be better than her. He hoped that he would get to race one day against her, and show that he knew what he was doing—especially since she seemed to think otherwise.

.

As Oscar hung the last ornament in the box on their tree, he heard the doorbell echo through their house. His sisters continued decorating with miscellaneous supplies such as garland or lights, while he climbed off the chair he stood on, hurrying towards the door. His dad was playing some soft Christmas music in the background, sorting through old photos by the fireplace. The smell of turkey lingered in the air. Christmas was Oscar’s favorite time of year, and he was excited to see who all would be joining them tonight. The Piastri’s hosted a great dinner every year on Christmas Eve—a family exclusive tradition.

“I got it, mom!” He called through the house. He quickly unlocked the door, then opened it. While he was expecting his grandparents or his cousins, he was quite taken aback seeing Simon and Claire standing there. Claire’s hair was down, and she wore a red velvety Christmas dress. She held on to a bag full of presents. Simon smiled.

“Hello again, Oscar,” he beamed. “You look nice.”

They weren’t family. They weren’t supposed to be here tonight. Oscar furrowed his eyebrows as he let go of the door handle.

“Mom!” Oscar called over his shoulder. “The Nguyen’s are here?” It was supposed to be a statement, but Oscar couldn’t hide his confusion very well. He didn’t know why they’d be here. Sure, Simon said he knew his mom, but he didn’t think it was well enough for them to come over for their family Christmas Eve. Claire would just ruin it, probably. She already has by being here.

His mom appeared quickly, and seemed to grow excited when she saw them. The rest of his family—his sisters and his dad—hurried in to say their hello’s. Claire even reciprocated, and ran towards his mom. Oscar’s chest grew hot with anger. Who were these people to just barge in on their traditions like this?

“Hi Claire Bear!” His mom exclaimed, engulfing the bratty girl in a hug. She picked her up, and pushed some of the hair out of her face. “You look beautiful, darling!” Claire was giggling as her arms wrapped around his mom’s neck, hugging her back. He had decided he’d seen enough, and hurried over to her.

“Mom who are they?” He blurted. “This is supposed to be family only.” Nicole laughed as she set Claire down again, then tussled his hair. She knelt down to look at him, and he felt guilty for being so rude. But at the same time, he felt like he had every right to be upset. Change didn’t suit him well.

“Simon is a very good friend of mine,” she explained gently. “They don’t have any other family, Oscar. They just moved here from South Korea, and I thought it would be nice that they joined us.” Oscar didn’t even know where South Korea was. He had fallen asleep during geography when they were learning about other countries. He watched as his mom stood up straight again.

“We met Oscar at the tracks a few weeks ago,” Simon commented. “He’s become quite good, Nicole. Not long until he makes his way to Formula 1, huh?”

Oscar’s rage suddenly dwindled at the stranger’s remarks. Now, he felt proud. He thought Oscar was good enough for Formula 1? His frown twisted into a smile as he watched his mom lead Simon into the kitchen to drop off their bags. His gaze lingered over to Claire. She folded her arms across her chest, staring back at him.

“We’re friends now,” she claimed confidently, taking a few steps towards him. “Our parents are friends, so that means we are.”

“That’s not how that works,” he scoffed. “But you’re still young, so you wouldn’t know.”

“You’re not much older,” she reminded him. Her arms fell to her sides, as she grabbed ahold of his wrist again. This time, with a much more gentle touch than she did at the tracks. “I brought something to show you. Your mom said you’d like it.” She turned, then marched the two of them into the living room where their bag full of presents sat. She let go of him, then knelt beside it. Oscar watched her intently as she rummaged through everything, when she pulled out two brand new remote control cars. His eyes widened. He had always wanted one, but his mom made him put it on his Christmas list. She found any excuse to not buy him one, despite his numerous attempts at asking for one.

“No way!” He exclaimed as she passed one to him. It was a shiny monster truck that had black and orange flames along the sides. His read THE DESTROYER, her’s read THE TERRORIZER. His eyebrows raised in amusement. “But girls don’t like these kinds of things.”

“Girls can like them too,” she remarked, as she flipped the switch to turn hers on. “Girls can like anything boys can, and boys can like anything girls can—just like how girls can race alongside boys, and boys can race alongside girls.”

Oscar had never really thought about it that way. He flipped the switch on his car, as her statement echoed in his mind. All of his friends at school were boys, so he didn’t really think about the fact that girls could like anything they liked. As they began racing their cars around the living room, he heard Claire laughing beside him. A grin flitted across his face, as he thought that maybe being friends with her wouldn’t be so bad.

.

FIVE YEARS AGO

It was raining outside. Oscar hated the rain, now. He figured Claire probably hated it just as much as he did, if not more. He was worried when she hadn’t cried all day—like all of her tears were gone, and replaced with a dormant, numb feeling in her heart. She exhaled next to him, as if she had been holding in a breath that she forgot about. He knew he should do something, or say something. But ultimately, he knew regardless of what he did or said, nothing would help. Simon was dead, and Claire was an orphan now.

The casket at the front of the church was closed. Oscar was grateful, because it made him sick to see Simon there—lifeless; he was always anything but. He quickly became a second father to him, much like how his parents became second parents for Claire. His mom told him yesterday that she would be living with them for a while, until her aunt could make it up from South Korea to take her back there. South Korea—away from him. He couldn’t really fathom not seeing her every day anymore. She had become so regular in his life and now she’s just…leaving. Just like how Simon was gone before any of them could blink.

The pastor droned on about how death is a celebration, when he heard Claire scoff beside him. He looked down at her, and saw a few tears prickling in the corners of her eyes. He tentatively reached out, taking her hand in his. He heard her catch a breath in her throat. She didn’t initially hold his in return, until he felt her nerves relax as her fingers curled around his hand. He gave hers a light squeeze, before looking towards the front again. He leaned over slightly.

“I’ll be celebrating when this funeral is over,” he whispered jokingly. This elicited a laugh from Claire—a genuine one—that made him smile. It was the first time he had heard her laugh in weeks since the car crash.

“You and me both,” she whispered in response, giving his hand a squeeze.

After the funeral and the burial, Oscar seemed to lose sight of Claire at the reception. He sat beside his parents and his sisters, as they all recounted memories of Simon and Claire. When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he didn’t even have to look to know who it was. Her nickname flashed across the screen.

Bear: where are you?

Oscar quickly excused himself from the table, then exited the reception hall. He wandered outside of the church, where Claire was sat on the sidewalk. It was still raining, so her hair and clothes were soaked. He wondered how long she had been out here, and worried she was going to get sick. She probably didn’t care about it, though. There wasn’t much she seemed to care about nowadays. He shrugged off his suit jacket, then wrapped it around her. He sat beside her.

“Life is a bitch,” she muttered. He was quiet, just being there to listen for now—in case she had anymore to say. She looked over to him. “I turned in my racing gear yesterday.”

Now he was officially worried. She was quitting racing? That was incredibly unlike her. No matter what was going on in her life, she always turned to the track to escape whatever was dragging her down. Now she was just…throwing it all away. She had plans to go into F3 with him—she was about to be signed, too.

“Why?” He finally spoke, though his singular word was strained. He hated seeing her so…lost. Claire was always so sure of herself—always so confident. And now she was here beside him just…defeated.

“What’s the point anymore?” She countered. “Dad taught me to race, Osc. He’s dead now. There isn’t much in South Korea for me to pursue for racing, so why bother?” In a weird way, he was relieved that her bluntness hadn’t completely dissipated despite the depression she was going through right now. Still, hearing her say the word ‘dead’ so nonchalantly felt a bit like a punch to the gut.

“Because you love it?” He suggested. He felt himself growing defensive. He couldn’t just sit and watch her ruin her own life. “Because it’s all you’ve ever known? Throwing it away because you feel this way now isn’t going to help you. It’s going to make things worse.”

“I can’t—“ she stopped, then sighed frustratedly. She carded a hand through her wet hair before continuing, “I can’t drive in the rain, Osc. Not when I know that dad died in the same conditions. He was a professional driver, and if he can’t withstand it then I’m scared I won’t be able to, either. I’m just scared.” She finally looked over at him, meeting his gaze. Oscar could’ve sworn that his heart was about to break seeing how much hurt was in her eyes right now. He wished he could take all of it away; anything to make her feel better.

“It’s okay to be scared,” he said gently, taking her hand again. “But fear has never stopped you before. You’re the most badass person I know, Bear. Why let fear control your life now, when you’ve never allowed it to do so before?”

That was when she started crying. For the first time in several days, she broke down. Oscar wasted no time pulling her in for a hug. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, as her whole body seemed to shake from the fit. He had never heard her cry this hard before, and it was difficult for him to keep his own composure. He blinked away his own tears as he softly rubbed her back.

“I’m so mad at the world,” she admitted in between sobs. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

“You didn’t do anything,” Oscar whispered in her ear. “Life just has a cruel way of playing out, sometimes. You didn’t do anything.”

She didn’t respond to him after that, but she didn’t need to. Oscar held on to her tightly as she continued crying, with the rain lightly falling on them. He closed his eyes, allowing a few tears to escape from his own eyes. Things were hard now, but he knew they would push through this. They always did—Simon would want them to not dwell on this, and he knew that. He just hoped and prayed that she knew that too.

.

FOUR YEARS AGO

“F2 Champion has a nice ring to it,” Claire hummed, as Oscar greeted her after the ceremonies. He looked down at the trophy in his hands, basking in his accomplishment.

“I guess it’s okay,” he shrugged sarcastically as he met her gaze again. He could tell she was trying to hold back a smile, but her own happiness betrayed her as it hinted in the corners of her lips. “I’m happy you could be here, you know.”

Now the smile was gone, and his friend shifted uncomfortably. Neither of them wanted to address the elephant in the room. They didn’t have the heart to, anyways. A year without Simon was difficult enough, but now she was leaving him, too. Oscar had researched South Korea. Seoul is over five thousand miles away from Melbourne. It made him sick the first time he read that.

“You know, um,” she cleared her throat as she began playing with the sleek, satin ribbon on her waist. Her dress looked beautiful tonight—pink had always been her color. He wasn’t sure he had really ever seen her like this before—so polished. So mature. He couldn’t recall when she grew up so fast. “My aunt said that you’re welcome to come and stay anytime and she has this really cozy spare room that—“

“Can we…not talk about you leaving?” Oscar interjected. He felt quite rude for saying it, but for one night he just wanted to feel like things were normal. They haven’t been normal since Simon died, and he wanted to spend time with his best friend without talking about something upsetting.

“I don’t want to talk about it just as much as you,” she replied, her expression twisting into one of hurt and disappointment, “but it’s reality, Osc. I’m leaving tomorrow. We can’t keep pushing it off and pretending that in twelve hours, I’ll still be in the room across the hall from you.”

It felt like she had stabbed him just then. Her reaction utterly wounded him. Having his best friend only fifteen feet away from him at all times was the best year ever—but she was right. She wouldn’t be there anymore. She would be almost eighteen hours away.

“I just wanted things to be normal for one night,” he replied softly. He set his trophy down by their feet, then stepped towards her. “I’m not ready to say goodbye, Bear.”

“We have to,” she took a step back, which only hurt him even more. “I’m not staying with you guys tonight. I, um, packed my things before I came here.” It was Oscar’s turn to feel disappointed—to feel hurt. Why wouldn’t she tell him sooner that she wouldn’t be there tonight? They told each other everything…or, used to, anyways.

“So that’s it?” He argued, his voice raising slightly. Nobody at the banquet seemed to be paying attention, though. “You’re just throwing me away? Throwing our friendship away like that? Why didn’t you tell me you wouldn’t be at home tonight?”

“I wanted you to enjoy your ceremony,” she gestured to the trophy on the ground. “I’m not throwing us away, I’m just facing the truth. You can’t live in your cocoon of delusions anymore—“

“God forbid I wanted to enjoy my time with you, Claire,” he angrily interrupted. He hadn’t used her real name in a few years. She had always been Bear to him, and he watched now how this affected her, with her stumbling away from him slightly. He sighed, running a hand through his hair; his tone softer. “It’s not a delusion. I just…don’t know what I’m going to do without you. I didn’t want tonight to be ruined by talking about it.”

When Claire didn’t respond, he knew he fucked up. When she backed up more, was when it solidified that he royally fucked up. He tried to reach for her, but she pulled away.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night, then,” she whispered, but her voice still wavered despite the lowered volume. The way she punctuated the word ‘ruined’ crushed him. He shouldn’t have said that. “I, um, wish you the best, Oscar.” She began gathering her dress in her hands. He hurried after her.

“Claire, please,” he begged. He was struggling with choking back his tears. “Please stay. I’m sorry, I don’t want to leave on these terms.”

It was too late. When she looked at him one last time, he saw that familiar look in her eyes that told him everything he needed to know: her mind was made up. She was leaving, and their friendship was now tainted—if you could even call it a friendship, anymore. They both knew it had been strained since she quit racing, but tonight was the breaking point. Tonight confirmed for them that she was no longer Claire Bear, and he was no longer Osc. They were strangers, and that made him sick. What made him feel even worse was watching her leave, and him not running after her. He let her get away, and that was a regret he would live with for forever.

.

PRESENT DAY

“Alpine is signing on a rookie next season,” Lando announced, lounging back on the boat. The thing bobbed slightly in the water as the waves crashed against it. It was a beautiful day in Monaco, and Oscar could feel the heat from the sun beating down on his closed eyelids.

“They need to get in line,” Oscar joked before taking a swig of the beer bottle in his hands. “Haas is, too. And Mercedes. Alpine isn’t special in that endeavor.”

“I’d disagree,” Oscar could hear the smile in Lando’s voice. He opened his eyes to look to his friend, who was currently lazily scrolling on his phone. “Heard it’s a super rookie. She did some karting stuff as a kid, but didn’t even participate in F3 or F2. No one knows how she managed to get signed.”

“I guess perks of having money?” Oscar suggested, lying down again. “I mean, look at Stroll. He’s only signed cause his dad owns the damn team.” This elicited a laugh from Lando. He set his phone down, then stood up from where he sat. He finished off the remainder of his beer, then set the bottle by his feet.

Their summer break had been rather lazy, but Oscar couldn’t complain too much. Lazy was nice, especially since it’s been a whirlwind of a season so far. With Lando getting his first win in Miami and Oscar getting his first win in Hungary, the two were exhausted.

“Shit, look over there.”

Oscar sat up to see what Lando was gesturing to, where he saw a group of girls on the beach lounging around. They were a bit too far away to make out their faces, but he couldn’t help rolling his eyes. Lando was often one to think with his dick. Oscar enjoyed gawking at the women in Monaco with him, but nothing ever lasted—nothing was ever genuine.

“You can’t even see their faces, dude,” Oscar grumbled. “All you see is their bikini colors.”

“Yeah, and I’m really liking the one with the baby pink bikini,” his friend whistled as he hurried behind the wheel of the boat. Oscar cringed slightly, mostly because pink was a color he hated now. Loathed, actually. Also, hearing the words ‘baby pink’ come from Lando’s mouth was nauseating. Regardless, he let him do his thing as he laid back down and closed his eyes once more. The engine of the boat turned, and he felt as Lando turned it around to begin steering it back to the docks. When it slowed in speed, he heard his friend hop off, and walk down the wooden boardwalk. He began chatting up the girls, with a few of them laughing cheekily at his cliche pickup lines. But one voice rang through Oscar’s veins furiously.

He thought he imagined it, initially. He hadn’t even thought about her for three years. Actually, he had forced himself to forget her completely when she stopped returning his calls. He chose to ignore it, but his heart betrayed him as it picked up speed.

“Lando Norris,” the familiar voice hummed in a flirtatious manner, “you’ve got a reputation, you know.” He heard Lando scoff. She sounded so much older, now.

“Remind me again?” Lando responded. He heard her step closer. He caught his breath. He knew the chair he was lounging on was blocked by the drivers seat of the boat, but if that voice came over here with Lando, he thought he’d probably puke.

“You sleep around,” she stated simply. There was an abrasiveness in her tone, one that practically confirmed it for Oscar that this was who he was afraid it would be. “You don’t call back, you can’t be tied down…tell me why I should go with you?”

Why would she be in Monaco? She had no ties here—or at least, she didn’t when he last saw her. She probably had an entirely new life, now. New friends, new hobbies, maybe even a new boyfriend…he didn’t realize he was panting until he grew lightheaded. This was anxiety, he knew it was.

“Maybe I want you to be the one to change my reputation?” Lando tutted. “Has anyone ever told you that pink looks really good on you?” The girl laughed, and Oscar wanted to cry. He hadn’t heard that laugh since Simon died. He forgot how intoxicating it was—how addicting she was to be around.

“I’m afraid I won’t meet your expectations,” she sighed as her laughter slowed. “I’m looking for commitment, Norris. Not a plaything.” Lando clicked his tongue in disapproval. Oscar could practically see him shaking his head, too. He had a routine when he flirted—one that Oscar had memorized by this point.

“One date,” Lando proposed, clearly feeling confident in his chances. “If you are still convinced I’m not serious, then you can block me and never call me back.” The last part made Oscar’s heart sting. He knew what it was like to be ghosted by Claire. Considering how practically unforgettable she was, he knew that her and Lando would be a recipe for disaster.

“Fine,” she said, giving in to his game. “But it has to be a real date.” Lando chuckled happily.

“Wonderful,” it was his turn to hum flirtatiously, now. “What is your name, darling?”

The next words out of her mouth knocked the air out of Oscar, “I’m Claire Nguyen.”

~

* None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.

©️ grogwrites, 2024

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (1) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n hello, this is called welcome to part 1 of a fic no one will read :) also i have a taglist now (yay?) so shoot me a reply if ur interested in being added <3

masterlist | prologue | part 1 | next part

TWITTER

lina !!! @EB_selina · 2h omg my f1wags debut??? y'all i've really made it 🫶

EB BAR @theemptybottlesbar · 2h us when our frontwoman decides to hard launch her relationship that we were scrambling to denounce: 🙂🔪🩷 ↳ camilina gfs fr @ drummergf · 1h the EB Bar admin working overtime bc lina insists on stoking the flames of this ridiculous rumour ↳ lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 1h media literacy where? this is a fucking confirmation bestie

INSTAGRAM

selinabui

liked by oscarpiastri and 103,273 others

selinabui me when i lie to myself and go date yet ANOTHER athlete 🤠👍 this one goes vroom vroom in expensive cars (p.s. dear news sites, pls stop using my old photos)

cameliazzz all that expensive media training chucked down the drain i see

eb_jonno the orange jumpscare holy shit lina it's like u hate him or smth ↳ selinabui @eb_jonno wdym he's very cute 🫶

landonorris Oh hello there ↳ oscarpiastri @ landonorris 😀 ↳ mclarwins @ landonorris OMFG LANDO WHAT ↳ selinabui @ landonorris bro why are you acting like we've never met or smth ↳ pi4str1 @ selinabui there's something about her that's so 😭

TWITTER

🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 5h ok i fear we need to start weighing up the pros and cons ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 5h pros: WE'RE FREE FROM AMERICANS, he's actually cute, we already follow f1 bc of guanyu, he's aussie <3 cons: white, he's another fucking athlete, orange ↳ 🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 4h 'free from americans' SO TRUE we were in the trenches with t*mmy

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 3h everything i find about this girl is just 😬 ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 3h oscar, get the FUCK away from that girl ↳ clovie @ luvyouvie · 2h omg why, what's up with her?? ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 3h kinda the classic rockstar shit and her ex is tommy howard (nfl running back)

liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 18h SELINA WHAT HAPPENED TO THIS??? WHERE DID THIS ENERGY GO 😭😭😭

↳ emme @flowersforcami · 18h as smo with a footballer ex, the comment on massive egos is so true T_T

↳ Ryan Forrest @ryanforrest93 · 17h Every time that interview pops up on my TL, I just get reminded of how YOUNG she was going through all of that nonsense. She was barely 20 and totally being gaslit by that arsehole. ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 17h ^^THIS!! yes!! it was crazy that ppl gave her so much shit about staying with tommy even after the cheating but it was her first real relationship and it fucked her up massively

INSTAGRAM

zhouguanyu24 Margaret Court Arena

liked by selinabui, oscarpiastri and 59,283 others

zhouguanyu24 Went to go check on the baby sister 💪

selinabui my personal photographer fr (good luck tmr 💚)

emptybottlesbar Always stoked to have family stop by for a listen! Best of luck on the track 💪 ↳ selinabui @emptybottlesbar he doesn't need luck. he needs his team to fix the pit stop problem. he needs divine intervention

zhouguanyu_br piastri is dating zhou's sister?? ↳ jemma.wren @zhouguanyu_br cousin actually, in chinese culture they refer to paternal cousins as just siblings

stakef1team Looking forward to seeing Lina in the garage ↳ selinabui @stakef1team oh lmao that's not happening 🥰 ↳ pastry81 @ selinabui IJBOL she said you ain't SHIT see you in the papaya garage

cameliazzz thanks for dropping by on ur race weekend <3 hope it was worth your while (and family-friendly 🤫) ↳ zhouguanyu24 @ cameliazzz Thank you for keeping her alive ↳ selinabui @ cameliazzz why has it taken you over 20 minutes to go get pizza 🤡 ↳ cameliazzz @ selinabui why are you asking in ur cousin's comments 🤡🤡🤡 (they need to cooka da pizza)

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

emme @flowersforcami · 34m walk with me here... if zhou went to friday's show, do you think oscar did as well? and if so... did they just watch empty bottles' almost 2 hours set of lina and kas flirting 😭 ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 22m i literally can't think of anything else now :) do you know what the encore song was? ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 21m kaslina duet of we don't talk anymore (og by charlie puth) ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 20m oh how do we even defend them

EB BAR @theemptybottlesbar · 1h whole team in shambles... @EB_selina we hope it was worth it

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h every linami realising they need to defend her stage persona to piastri fans... ↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 1h WE SWEAR ON OUR HONOUR THAT THIS GIRL IS A TOTAL LOOOOOSER. SHE'S NOTHING LIKE WHAT THE MEDIA WRITES HER AS. HER ONE HOBBY IS SUDOKU. SHES A COMPLETE DOORMAT 😭😭 ↳ lina !!! @EB_selina · 1h ok well, hang on... i think they get the point

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 5h after a literal night of deep-diving, i take back everything i've ever said about selina bui bc she's such a cutie honestly i get it, i kinda want her now

INSTAGRAM

oscarpiastri

liked by cameliazzz and 113,292 others

oscarpiastri Finally got the green light to 'hard launch'

selinabui sorry i needed to be vetted so hard :/

logansargeant Oh so we're keeping secrets from each other now #fakefriend ↳ oscarpiastri @ logansargeant Sorry, did i forget the bit when you were there when we met or something 🙂

2cami4lina oh she let him in the studio, we're fucking done for

ausgp Some extra Aussie luck for the home race ↳ pi4str1 @ ausgp she's australian??? ↳ emptybottlos @pi4str1 do a simple google search first - the whole band is australian 🤡 they all grew up in sydney

piastri_lina but wait, the way i lowk manifested this... ↳ emptyb-aid @piastri_lina lock ur doors i fear i'm coming for you

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐SLIP UP | OP81

summary — in which oscar wasn't exactly ready for the world to find out that he had a girlfriend, but he can't find it in him to be upset about the outcome when one slip up exposes the secret (au where oscar likes to stream)

pairings — oscar piastri x fem!unnamed!oc

pronouns — she/her, labelled as his girlfriend.

word count — 2253

note — this whole layout is stolen from @love-quinn . love her literally more than anything!!!! also this is just me emptying out my short wattpad drafts on here <3

IT WAS A TYPICAL summer break.

after settling back home and taking a few days to rest and recover from the first half of the season, oscar found himself sat at his computer, streaming to thousands because of his newfound, downtime hobby.

really, streaming was just an excuse for him to play games and be his entertaining self while doing it . . . and also because his lovely girlfriend had told him to stop annoying her while she cleaned their home.

annoying in the sense that he wanted to help but did it wrong, kept trying to distract her from the tasks at hand so that her attention could be on him instead, and was disturbing her alone time — after she'd explained that she just wanted some time for herself because she'd spent the last few days relaxing with him, he'd kissed her cheek with a smile and headed upstairs to stream.

he'd really got lucky with his girlfriend. she was a florist he'd met back in melbourne a few years ago when he was buying flowers for his mum to apologise for not calling her for a week ( it wasn't on purpose, of course, but it was a mistake he wouldn't make again ). she'd helped him pick the right flowers because he was clueless and then he had turned the charm on �� learning her name, and also learning that she finished her shift at four-thirty and was free afterwards. the rest was history.

SHE knew oscar was streaming after he'd sent her a text. that had been two hours ago, and she hadn't seen him entering the kitchen for water or something to eat since.

"explain to me how he's always hungry but forgets to eat," she muttered under her breath. dropping the rubber gloves onto the dining table, she walked past that and into the kitchen to prepare something for him to at least snack on.

it was a difficult relationship for them outside their maisonette in the uk. She was nervous about people finding out that she was the lucky girl dating oscar piastri, and oscar, despite wanting to have her by his side at events, was happy to keep the secret just for the few that they could trust because he wasn't entirely ready either. some of the drivers on the grid knew, a few of his team knew, and their families knew. it seemed like a lot of people to know about something they were keeping secret, but everyone kept their mouths shut and mentioned nothing about it to the public.

the only one who did talk about oscar and relationships was his teammate in interviews, and that was only to tease oscar by saying that he wasn't in a relationship and could 'pull no bitches' because he knew that oscar couldn't defend himself and say that he could — not that he would call her a bitch though, not even as a joke. it just wasn’t in his vocabulary. 

she threw together a simple mix of greek yogurt, berries and granola to the correct portions and filled up a glass of water before heading up the stairs to the open space — the study that had become his streaming and trophy room, and a little living space that was perfect for basking in the sun under all the windows above.

to her surprise, it was quiet. quieter than usual. usually she could at least her murmurs through the door when he was streaming because the walls weren’t necessarily thick. but there was nothing but silence to be heard, and she couldn't think of a time their house had been this quiet.

as silently as possible, she walked down the short hallway and stopped outside of the study, setting down the bowl and the glass and cringing when they made a soft clink against the glass table outside the door.

out of curiosity, she moved closer to the door, pressing her ear against the wood and waiting to hear a faint rustle or oscar’s voice to break through the void. silence.

it was an uncharacteristic silence that left her feeling uneasy. she knew nothing would be wrong, but it wasn’t right for full-blown silence, not even with how introverted he could be on rest day.

oscar, despite his own level of quiet, was still the louder of the two, leaning more into his ambivert side when he felt like it while she stayed comfortable as a full-time introvert. she never raised her voice above its usual quiet tone, not unless it was around oscar or one of her other friends and they had coaxed it out of her through jokes and laughter. the only time oscar was ever really this quiet was when he was tired or asleep or sometimes when he was eating dinner.

uh, she thought when she was met with nothing, do i knock? no, that makes it look like someone's here . . . um . . .

with one last thought, her simple idea was to open the door just a little, just enough so that it was barely obvious and so that she could look through the tiny gap to see if he was alive and breathing in there.

with a slow motion, she managed to turn the doorknob without a sound, and once she had it unclipped, she kept it still for a moment so that she could take a breath and let go of the one she had been holding.

she pushed the door a little as slowly as possible, and it was working, but she just needed to move it a little more so that a gap could form between the door and its frame.

there was something she had asked oscar to do months ago when he was back home with a two week break between races. it had been something so simple. it was just to oil the hinges in the house so that the doors would stop creaking every time they were moved. he'd told her he'd fixed the issue ( which she knew meant that he had asked his mum how to fix it ) and it hadn't been brought up again.

however, it was clear now that he hadn't fixed the hinges.

very colourful words circulated through her mind as a soft creak echoed through the quiet home, and more specifically, through the room that probably had a stream going. fuck. shit. motherfucker. fucking hell. what the fuck. son of a bitch. piece of shit door.

through the crack now in the door, she could just see her very much alive boyfriend sitting at his desk chair with his headphones on, and was . . . whispering? and, just to her luck, he had the camera positioned a little over more today, and the door was in frame.

OSCAR quit whispering ( because someone in the chat said that their cat was asleep and that was his default, sarcastic answer ) the second his eyes scanned his chat and saw multiple messages that read out the same thing: the door moved. it took him a few seconds to comprehend it, but then his head snapped over to the door and noticed that it was just barely ajar.

"one sec," he quickly said and then muted the microphone. once he was sure he was muted, he spun in his chair to face the door, covering half of his mouth from the camera so that no one could read his lips. "Hey?” he didn’t sound frustrated, just warm and soft all the same. “you there?"

"they saw, didn't they?" he heard the quiet voice of his girlfriend on the other side of the door. "i'm sorry, i was just trying to—"

"hey, no," oscar shook his head, voice soothing. "it's alright, baby, it's alright. i can play it off as something if you'd like . . . or you can come in and say hi. up to you." he didn't want to sound like he was pressuring her. they had been dating for almost two years now, and they had kept it quiet for this long. if she was ready, he was happy to show her off.

"uh . . ." she faltered. "i mean . . . do i have to talk much?"

"not if you don't want to," he answered gently. "we don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

but she thought about it, and looked to the granola bowl next to her. why not? "okay."

"okay," oscar turned back to his computer and unmuted the mic. "i have someone for you lot to meet. be nice.”

a few seconds later, the door opened a little wider, and she could now be seen in the corner of the camera's reach. taking a deep breath, she picked up the bowl and the glass with slightly shaky hands and took a few cautious steps into the room.

oscar’s eyes lit up the moment he saw her, his pupils almost forming hearts at the sight. so warm, so soft, so mellow. "aw," he stood up from the chair and took the food and drink from her. "thank you."

"you always forget to eat," she mumbled, refusing to look at the computer and instead keeping her eyes on him. he set the items down on his desk before moving back over to her, and once he was close enough, she clasped onto his forearm.

"was an accident, i swear," he shot her a quick smile before slowly walking her over to his set up. "chat, i guess this is . . ." he looked back at her, wondering if she was comfortable with sharing her name, and when she shook her head, and shot her a reassuring smile. "twitch chat, this is my lovely girlfriend. and lovely girlfriend, this is my twitch chat."

She lifted her free hand to give a little wave, "hi," she said, clutching oscar’s arm a little tighter. her reflection stared back at her on the screen — she'd straightened her soft pink curls today because it was easier to maintain until she had time to wash it, and she was still in the old, paint-splattered clothes she normally wore when she spent the day cleaning.

her eyes caught the chat that was quickly speeding past much to her dismay, but what she had found actually served to make her smile. people were being nice. there were greetings and people saying she was pretty, and wondering how oscar of all people managed to pull her. it was strange to have so many people commenting about her, but it was the kind of strange that she was starting to find nice.

after a minute of watching the chat roll by while oscar made small-talk, she mentioned that she would see him after he finished streaming before leaving the room.

"HEY," OSCAR CRAWLED INTO bed, laying on his stomach and looking up at her.

she, who had showered and started reading in the time it took oscar to finish streaming, glanced down at him from where she was sitting. she slid the floral-decorated bookmark in between the pages she was reading and closed the book.

"hi," she smiled as soon as she saw him, moving her hand to sit in his soft hair. "how was your stream?"

"good," he smiled back at her, his eyes crinkling slightly. "everyone loved you, y'know?"

she shrugged, "i thought they'd be scarier," she admitted. she wasn't blind to the treatment that fans gave to their favourite's partner — it happened in every sport, and every career of a famous person. it would probably get worse when she went out with him in public, but almost every chat message that she quickly read when she had been in that room with him had been positive. that made it a little less terrifying.

"aw," oscar propped up his chin with his hand. "don't worry, i'll protect you," he winked at her, but she just rolled her eyes.

"you ran away from a bee yesterday, osc," she reminded him, voice deadpan, "telling me to kill it before it killed you. it was nowhere near you."

oscar tutted. "if i can see it, it's a threat."

she giggled and dropped her hand from his hair to pick up her book once again. as soon as it was in her hands, she glanced back up at oscar in confusion when he pushed down on her knees so that her legs were flat against the bed.

with one heavy movement, he rolled over so that he was on her legs, wiggling a little so that he was laying between them on his stomach and his head was pressed against her stomach. "go back to reading," he mumbled, closing his eyes. "g'night."

she glanced over at the clock on the bedside table that displayed four pm. it was definitely too early for him to have a deep sleep because otherwise he'd be waking her up all night, so she'd be waking him up when she finished reading. "sleep well, my love," she leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead before flipping her book back open.

"also," his voice was quiet, riddled with tiredness at the words he needed to mumble out before sleep stole him.

"mhm?"

"'m proud of you for earlier. forgot to tell you."

her heart warmed at his words. with a newfound smile on her face and a flutter in her chest, she flipped through the pages of her book until she found her bookmark and carried on reading, the only sounds being that of the pages and the soft breaths from her sleepy boyfriend on top of her.

[lilghostiequinni]

Split Between

Main Masterlist Carcar Masterlist

Pairing: Girlfriend!female reader x Carlos Sainz x Oscar Piastri

Warnings: Fluffy,

Summary: You were always split between to garages, and they were, most times close together, now they aren't so close.

Requested: NO / yes

When you started dating both it was difficult at first, mainly because each weekend you would have to pick garage to be in.

It wasn't always the best arrangement, but you made it work.

Sometimes after races Oscar and Carlos would return to the hotel and wouldn't speak for hours to each other, and most times it would last longer if not for you telling them to talk to each other or you were staying with Lando.

In the time of knowing Oscar and Carlos, Lando had become your best friend.

Sometimes he was more your friend than he was to Carlos or Oscar.

But your boys would come knocking on Lando's hotel door within the hour, having made up whatever differences they had.

You had been split between garages your whole relationship, and with Lando being your best friend, and also being close to Charles you didn't really have a neutral ground to be at without some accusation from fans.

So, you made friends outside of the McLaren and Ferrari garages.

Friends in Red Bull and Williams, friends in Alex and Logan, in Max, then in Franco when he came.

You didn't like being split between the two garages, and sure your life would be a whole lot easier if they were on the same team, but it never mattered who they drived for as long as they drove.

When Carlos moved to Williams, you realized that you would lose the neutral ground of the Williams garage, but gained the Ferrari garage and Charles.

Which you lorded over Carlos, that you got Charles in the Carlos-Ferrari divorce.

Even though you were still split between two garages, you still had your boys and your friends.

Everything was easier with when they were there.

The grid, the ones that you hung out with the most, acted like your older brothers.

So whenever someone, other than your boyfriends came up to you, they stepped in.

Being split between two garages was difficult, but also it was a blessing because it meant you had places to hide from all the people who hated that you were dating two drivers.

But to also hide from Carlos and Oscar when you tease them and they wanted to get you back.

The other drivers, usually the ones on Red Bull and Williams, when they seen you running though the garage, they knew that you had teased Oscar or Carlos to far.

Lando would see you run through McLaren too, you would hide in Lando's driver's room, but that was usually only when you wanted to be caught, which was more often than not

Being split between two garages was hard, but it only made you stronger.

A/N: Second in the 100 Follower ship poll.

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @1800-love-me @barcelonaloverf1life @scopeiguess @01rrdbull @taetae-armyyyyy @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[iimplicitt]

GOOD LOOKING | OP81

pairings: oscar piastri x singer girlfriend! unnamed fem character (faceclaim suki waterhouse)

summary: oscar and his girlfriend had been dating for a while now, and what better way to hard launch their relationship than on her debut concert of her tour?

warnings: intense public make out, kind of an inappropriate time to have a boner but oscar isn’t exactly thinking straight, social media posts at the end

song inspo: good looking by suki waterhouse

wc: 2.8k

requests open!!

The roar of the crowd could be heard as the lights dimmed in the venue. Thousands of people cheered, all for her and the moment felt so surreal she thought about pinching herself. This was her biggest show yet, the debut of her tour after her album had blown up in the charts. Something she was beyond grateful for but she was terrified she wouldn’t be able to handle it.

So many stars burned out.

“Hey,” a hand ran comforting circles into her lower back.

Turning, her anxiety melted away easily as her boyfriend smiled down at her. His presence was always comforting with no words even needing to be spoken. He had helped keep her head grounded as fame started to pile itself quickly on top of her, given he had plenty of experience.

Formula One drivers don’t exactly have the luxury of flying under the radar. But his experience was helpful in easing her worries, teaching her how to tune everything out and still experience all the great parts it offered.

If she thought an arena of a few thousand was big, Oscar probably considered this a small scale meet and greet given his race weekends got up to around 300,000 people. She wasn’t sure how he adjusted so well, but maybe his stardom was more gradual as he moved up the leagues as he got older.

For her, it felt like she went to bed one day unknown and woke up the next with her face plastered on the side of buildings.

Still, Oscar was private. He went to as many of her shows as he was able to given his schedule was full for a good chunk of the year. It was difficult, but worth all the tears and stress.

Usually he was hidden away, sticking to the shadows to give his support. Although they’ve been dating for well over a three years now, they were very good at hiding it. Their work schedules being almost completely incompatible helped and there weren’t even the faintest of whispers on any gossip sites or accounts.

Tonight though, he made it adamant he wanted to be there for her first big night, headlining her own tour and the way he looked at her with such pride in his eyes made her feel like she was melting through the floor.

He was heaven sent, she was sure of it.

She had been going through hell, one of the worst break ups. The kind that made it feel like her heart was rotting out of her chest and she couldn’t breathe, even after months the pain and second guessing was there. Even if she no longer cared about her ex anymore, the thought of not feeling like enough for someone was brutal. The feeling of not being wanted by someone she considered to be her whole world shattering reality at its edges.

Being cheated on felt like hell. It was hell. Burning her up and killing her slowly.

All the sleepless nights blaming herself, wondering what she had done wrong to make him lose interest. Wondering what was the first day his eyes wandered and why hadn’t she noticed?

The pain was numbing, making it feel as if she was constantly flat lining as insecurities pummeled her into the ground. She lost her job and had been singing at bars and clubs across London, living out of her car and wondering when life would pick up again.

Then one night he walked in, watching her as if her voice was breaking him down as it poured out from the speakers. She couldn’t help but blush, something about him just felt different. Men stared at her all the time, but with him… when their eyes locked that weight in her chest lifted and it felt like she could breathe again.

After her show was done she lingered, keeping him in her peripheral vision as she drank and waited for him to come and talk to her. A few times she’d catch him looking, but then he’d quickly turn away and start talking to his group of friends again.

Eventually it got too late, her eyes dry with exhaustion and the streets a little uneasy.

Part of her couldn’t let it go though, maybe he was just shy. But that feeling in her chest said to at least try.

So she walked up to him, watching as his eyes perked up and a blush redding his cheeks. She didn’t spare his friends a glance as she crossed her arms, “you’re an idiot.”

He blinked at her, also ignoring his friends as they laughed at him behind their hands. “Sorry?”

The stranger sounded Australian and her knees went a little weak. “I’ve been waiting for an hour for you to come up and talk to me but now I have to leave.”

He stammered over his words and she couldn’t help but smile as she dug into her jacket pocket and pulled out the bar napkin she had scribbled her number on. “Here, if courage finds you.” Dropping it in his lap, she sent him a wink before turning on his heels. Feeling a false sense of confidence but hoping something would bloom into fruition.

She had barely made it down the street when she heard him call out for her. Turning, she watched as he jogged up, napkin in hand. “Let me walk you home.”

Biting her lip, she looked away, slightly embarrassed. “That’s a little complicated.”

His brows furrowed, but before he could ask what she meant she clicked the key fob of her car and the lights of the beaten down four door parked on the side of the street lit up. He still looked a little confused so she shrugged, “makes for a short commute.”

Understating washed over him and he shook his head. “You are not sleeping in your car.”

“Then where do you suggest I sleep?” The question hung in the air as they stared at each other, the city traffic fading into white noise. His cologne wafted in the air, smelling like sea salt and sandalwood and she thought she could fall into an haze reminiscent of being doped up on opium.

He licked at his bottom lip as he considered her for a moment before holding out his hand, “I’m Oscar.”

Shaking it, his skin was rough and warm. Making a comforting shiver run a commotion on each of her nerve endings. “It’s very nice to meet you, but you haven’t answered my question.”

Maybe three martinis was too much because she was being much more bold than she was used to.

He didn’t hesitate. “Come back to my place.”

Maybe she hadn’t been in her right mind. Any normal person would have approached the offer with suspicion but from that night on the rest had been history.

He made her dinner and let her take his bed, a complete gentleman and when she woke up to the smell of coffee and burnt pancakes she knew she was done for.

Now there they were, both their careers taking off in ways that seemed like outlandish dreams.

However, she noticed as he shifted a bit on his feet and tugged at his sleeves. He was nervous, that much was obvious and she frowned. Oscar was used to being in the spotlight but perhaps what the stage director had suggested was a bit too much of a hard launch.

“You don’t have to do this, you know? It’s completely fine—“

“What? No, it’s not that.” He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and she slotted into his hold easily. Nestling her head under his chin and wrapping her arms around him, letting the beat of his heart calm her. “Well, it’s a little bit of that but it’s just because I’ve never done anything like this before.”

She laughed lightly. “What? Never made out with someone in front of thousands of people?”

He hummed, “have to say it’s a first for me.”

Tilting her head back to look at him, she took in the way his eyes seemed to glow as he gazed down at her. She never felt any doubt with him. Complete and utter security in the form of another person felt like life had renewed itself.

“If you’re not comfortable doing it, then we won’t. I don’t want to push you.”

Oscar shook his head, brushing the hair out of her face before cupping the side of her head gently. “I want to.”

Lexi approached them then, clipboard in hand and a headpiece perched on her head. “They’re ready for you two on the platform. I’ll signal you when it’s time.”

The couple nodded and Oscar took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze as they maneuvered their way under the stage to get onto the rising platform.

They stood on their marks facing each other, with each breath their chests brushed and as their eyes met they couldn’t help but laugh. This was probably one of the most ridiculous things they had never done.

Lexi came back up to them. “Okay so, rundown. You two are going at it, make it raunchy but y'know, PG-13. Wait a few seconds after the platform has locked into place and then act surprised by the crowd, like they caught you. And you, Mr. Piastri just… keep looking at her like you are now, that’s perfect.”

She turned, looking up at her boyfriend and taking note of the stars in his eyes.

“Positions!” Someone shouted, but neither paid much mind to the people around them anymore as she hiked up her leg around his waist, his hand falling down to cup her thigh while the other wrapped around her waist and tugged her flush against him.

His voice was low as they slowly started to rise, the crowd deafening as they realised the concert was about to start, not at all anticipating the surprise they were about to receive. “It’s just you and me.”

She nodded, her hands coming up to twine her fingers in his hair and pulling his face down to hers. “It’s just you and me.”

Their lips crashed against each other with urgency that never got old. The sensation of his mouth against her was mind numbing and addictive. His tongue slipped past her lips and explored her mouth like it was their first kiss all over again. Teeth clinked and fabric was tugged, trying desperately to get closer if possible. The feeling of the platform rising had faded into nothingness as she was consumed by him.

His hand hooked under knee to tug her hips right against him, his erection evident and a near moan left her at the feeling of it. His fingers digging into the flesh of her thigh through her trousers and her thin shirt doing little to tame the heat between them.

Oscar’s mouth trailed down from her mouth to her neck, tugging on her hair to give him more space. His tongue was hot and his teeth sharp and he licked and bit at her skin lightly. Both in so much delirium that they forgot for a moment they were being watched by an arena.

She snapped out of it, only barely and looked out into the crowd in a daze as a very real blush reddened her cheeks. She tugged on Oscar’s hair to pull his face away from her throat, but it only resulted in him groaning.

A laugh left her, completely breathless and only a tad embarrassed when he finally leaned back to look at her. He looked unkempt, his hair a mess and her lipstick smeared across his mouth.

To play up the act, she gasped as she caught sight of them on the jumbo screen and stepped back from him, though he kept one arm wrapped around her waist, he dropped her leg.

The screams and shouts were enough to bust someone’s ear drums as people looked on in shock at the sight of the world famous Formula One driver making out with their favorite singer on stage.

She wiggled out of his hold and walked briskly to the microphone a few feet away from them, looking bashful as she laughed awkwardly, the sound echoing around the arena. “I am so sorry. They sent me up earlier than I thought.”

The crowd went wild for it and she looked over her shoulder, winking at Oscar and the way he was looking at her like she was the only one there made her want to pounce back on him again.

She smiled warmly as he leaned against the piano that was on stage, then waved to the rest of her band, before turning back to the crowd. “I guess introductions are in order?” She asked, screams and roars following.

“I’m sure most of you know him, but this is my boyfriend. He decided to pop me a visit in between race weekends.”

The night was a daydream as it went by, Oscar watching her with heaven in his eyes as she sang her heart out.

Finally, the song that had kick started everything was next and she looked down at Oscar who had taken a seat on the bench of the piano. “This next one is called Good Looking, and although Oscar is stunning, no this isn’t about him.”

Laughs followed and Oscar smiled at her warmly, watching in adoration as the song started. The song she had sang all those years ago in the bar about her ex who had turned her life into a nightmare and he had known then and there he wanted to be in her life. He wanted to erase the heartbreak that painted itself on her features as the words poured out of her.

“The skyline falls as I try to make sense of it all.”

He watched as her body moved with music, entranced with the fluidity of her movements.

“I thought I’d uncovered your secrets, but turns out there’s more.”

He hadn’t looked at the audience once, not able to pull his eyes away from his girlfriend throughout the night. Oscar was sure his phone was blowing up with notifications and missed calls with the news, given absolutely no one knew.

“You adored me before. Oh, my good looking boy.”

The song ended and she bowed, her grin was a sight pulled straight from the bible and he knew he’d fall to his knees whenever she asked, ready to lay down complete surrender to get just a taste of the salvation she offered.

Oscar had been a little worried the night would be awkward with him just sitting there, but not a flicker of regret passed through him as he watched thousands of people shout their love for her and her work.

Not quite believing the stars had aligned so well for him. Not quite believing she was real and had chosen him, out of all people. Forever grateful she put trust in him not to break her heart and vice versa.

He hadn’t even realized he’d been smiling the whole night and watched as if an angel was approaching when she walked up to him, leaning down to kiss him.

Oscar knew he picked the right night, she was on top of the world and he wanted to keep that high going later when they got back to the hotel.

He had a ring box in his pocket he needed to take care of.

auroratheband

liked by landonorris, logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 829,039 others

auroratheband said yes to heaven last night, london you were beautiful

*tap to load more comments*

userone: WHAT

usertwo: WHO TF?? HOW TF?? AND THEY’RE ENGAGED HELLO????

landonorris: i’m sorry, what? osc answer your fucking phone

userthree: lando didn’t even know?? that is wild lmao

oscarpiastri: for the foul language your wedding invite has been revoked

userfour: apparently they’ve been dating for a few years, that hard launch had me losing my MIND

userfive: did you guys see how he was looking at her? MY HEART, he didn’t take his eyes off her once

usersix: I KNOW IM IN TEARS i cant wait for wedding pics

userseven: i need to see her in the paddock with the other wags immediately

tag list: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[theonottsbxtch]

MILLION DOLLAR WOMAN | OP81

an: i head to france tomorrow guys, today is my final day of freedom rip. this was so fun to write because imagine just finding out your partner is a millionaire fr, based off of this request

wc: 2.5k

Oscar could see her sitting at the dining table through the floor-to-ceiling windows as he parked his car. The quiet of their home in Monaco always took him by surprise—no revving engines, no buzz of the pit crew. Just her typing away on her laptop with her usual cup of tea. She looked up as he walked in, gave him a quick smile, and then returned to her screen. Always so relaxed, even as he walked in carrying the tension of a bad training session.

"Good day?" she asked, barely looking up. He nodded and mumbled something about a corner he'd taken too fast. She listened but didn’t pry. She never did. That's how she was. She was more interested in weekend hikes than race standings, in cooking simple meals than joining him at fancy team dinners. It was a refreshing kind of simplicity, though sometimes a little mystifying. She didn’t ask about the sport or his schedule, never got jealous over the fans, and didn’t seem to care about the lifestyle that came with dating an F1 driver.

In a way, it was...perfect. He didn’t have to worry about her growing tired of his schedule, or about her expectations getting out of hand. She worked her 9-to-5, met him after, and never asked for more. The fact that she paid for her own things when they went out had caught him off-guard at first, but she’d laughed and shrugged it off when he offered to take care of the bill. "I’m used to it," she’d said. And that had been that. No strings, no expectations.

Tonight, she must’ve been finishing something for work, because she was typing away with focus. He walked into the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, glancing over his shoulder at her every now and then, content. The glow of her screen was the only light in the room; the apartment was quiet but comfortable, like this was all they’d ever need.

“How’s work?” He asked as he shut the fridge.

She briefly looked up, “Long” she sighed but smiled at him.

As he walked past her he placed a brief kiss on her forehead and slid onto the sofa, stretching out and letting the quietness of home sink into his bones. She was already back to her typing, nodding to herself as she worked through whatever was in front of her. It was one of those things he found himself both fascinated by and grateful for—she didn’t need him to fill the silence. She seemed just fine with her job, her laptop, her little rituals that didn’t have anything to do with him.

Oscar watched her for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through emails and messages. A lot of them were about his upcoming sponsorship deal, a whirlwind of numbers and logistics. He thought about calling his manager to check the final figures but decided against it. Just thinking about it wore him out.

He read email after email as he heard the scrape of a chair, he looked up to see her stand up and take a call in their terrace, something he adored about this house.

Then his phone rang, Mark, he picked up automatically. “Yeah, hey,” he said, voice still soft from the calmness of the evening. As he talked through the details with him, he realised he needed to jot something down. With no pen or paper in reach, he glanced over to the dining table where she always kept a notepad beside her tea.

Oscar rose, walking over to her seat, quietly picking up her pen. But as he did, his eyes fell onto the screen of her laptop, where her banking app was open.

It was one glance, just a flicker of his eyes, but enough for him to catch sight of the balance there. He paused mid-sentence, his own words catching in his throat.

That number didn’t look right.

Surely it was missing a decimal.

Wrapping up the conversation with Mark, he wrote down what he needed, and looked at the screen once more. In that time, she’d walked back into the room, her feet padding on the cool granite of their dining room floor.

Oscar couldn’t take his eyes off the screen.

"Hey," he said, voice a little strained, still trying to process what he was seeing. "Uh…how much money do you make?"

She blinked, the corner of her mouth lifting in that effortless way of hers. "Enough," she said with a little laugh. "Why?"

Oscar blinked, struggling to wrap his head around it. This was his girlfriend—quiet, low-key, not a trace of the usual high-gloss life he’d always associated with wealth. He’d seen people obsess over money, hover around him just because of it, make a whole lifestyle out of it. But her? She was the woman who insisted on bringing packed lunches to work, who chose thrift shops over boutiques, who still wore her decade-old watch without a second thought. She was content. Comfortable. But this…

"That’s…a lot of ‘enough,’" he said, pointing at the screen, unable to mask the amazement in his voice.

She just shrugged and closed her laptop, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I guess I don’t really talk about it, huh? Not exactly first-date conversation."

He leaned back against the table, watching her with a strange mix of awe and curiosity. "Not even, like, fourth-date conversation."

"To be fair, I didn’t ask what you make, either," she pointed out, quirking an eyebrow at him. "Money’s not really…our thing."

He felt a laugh bubble up in his chest. She was right, and yet, here he was, dumbfounded. She’d been living in his world all this time, never asking him for anything, never trying to claim any part of the lavish life he could provide. Now, he realised, maybe she didn’t need it at all.

"So…why not mention it?" he asked, still trying to understand. "I mean, I just assumed…" He trailed off, feeling a little sheepish.

"I know," she said, her smile turning gentle. "I guess I liked that you assumed. It made things easier. It let me be just…me. No expectations, no need to fit into any box."

Oscar nodded slowly, taking that in. It made sense, but it still felt surreal. Here was someone who, from the very beginning, hadn’t wanted anything from him other than his time, his company. She wasn’t here for his lifestyle or his status, things he’d been conditioned to believe were a part of every relationship he’d ever have.

He glanced at her laptop again, unable to stop himself from wondering. “So, wait—what exactly do you do? Something like…senior management?” he asked, half-joking, his tone teasing.

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head as the absurdity of it all settled in. He was still trying to wrap his head around the whole idea—his girlfriend, his laid-back, thrift-shop-loving girlfriend, was apparently not only financially secure but really well off.

She raised her eyebrows, a sly smile creeping across her face. “Something like that,” she replied, taking a sip of her tea.

He squinted at her, suspicious. “Oh, come on, don’t leave me hanging. How high up are you, really?”

She glanced away, as if considering her words, and then said it, almost like a casual aside. “I’m the CEO.”

He blinked, the statement hanging in the air like a punchline he hadn’t quite caught. “Wait…CEO? As in, like, the CEO?”

She laughed, shrugging it off like it was nothing. “Just of a mid-sized company, Oscar. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Darling,” he said slowly, realising dawning. “What company?”

She paused, her eyes darting away, and he could see the hint of mischief there. “Ever heard of Catalyst?”

“Catalyst…wait, as in Catalyst Dynamics?” he asked, his voice growing louder with shock. “The same Catalyst Dynamics that sponsors my team?”

She pressed her lips together, trying—and failing—not to smile. “Do they?”

“Oh, you are kidding me!” he exclaimed, grinning in disbelief. “You’ve been secretly spoiling me this whole time!”

She shook her head, looking away as though he’d accused her of something scandalous. “Oscar, it’s a sponsorship, not a…spoiling thing. Besides, that’s business. I keep it separate from…this.” She gestured between the two of them, clearly trying to play it cool.

But Oscar wasn’t buying it, not for a second. “Oh, no you don’t.” Before she could say another word, he leaned down, scooping her up and carrying her toward the sofa.

“Oscar!” she yelped, laughing, half-protesting, but she didn’t resist.

He set her down on the cushions, pinning her playfully as he hovered above her, grinning with that spark of mischief that usually only showed up on race day. “You’ve been keeping this a secret, haven’t you? The big boss lady, looking out for me, pretending you’re just this regular 9-to-5 woman…”

“Oscar, I’m not spoiling—”

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” He grinned wider, fingers finding her sides as he started tickling her, his hands relentless. She burst into laughter, twisting and squirming, but he didn’t let up.

“Okay, okay!” she managed between laughs, her breath coming in gasps as he kept up his assault. “I admit it, I admit it!”

“Admit what?” he asked, pausing, a playful gleam in his eyes as he waited for her to say it.

“Fine!” She was breathless, cheeks flushed from laughter. “Maybe I had a tiny bit of a hand in sponsoring your team, maybe. But it wasn’t to spoil you! It was just…good business.”

He chuckled, finally letting up, settling beside her on the sofa. “Good business, huh?”

She took a deep breath, still smiling as she nudged him. “I mean it. I didn’t want you to feel any pressure…or obligation. This—us—is different.”

Oscar looked at her, his heart feeling fuller than he’d expected. “Different is right.” He slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. “Guess I’m just lucky to be dating a CEO with a secret soft spot.”

She laughed, leaning her head against his shoulder, content. “And I guess I’m lucky to be with someone who never needed me to be anything but…me.”

As they settled into a comfortable silence, Oscar’s mind was still spinning, pieces clicking into place one by one. He glanced around their beautiful apartment—the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sleek, minimalist design. The place had always felt like an oasis, calm and understated, like Anna herself. But something new was nagging at him now.

“Wait…” He looked down at her, narrowing his eyes. “That’s why you won’t let me pay rent, isn’t it? You said this place was your dad’s, but it’s not, is it?”

She bit her lip, trying not to smile, but the faintest hint of a smirk gave her away. “Well…okay, maybe it wasn’t technically my dad’s. He…may not have anything to do with it.”

“Sweetheart!” he said, laughing as he sat up, staring at her in mock betrayal. “So you’ve just been letting me think I’m staying at this family-owned place when all this time you’re the one paying for it?”

She shrugged, looking at him with playful innocence. “It’s already been paid for. Besides,” she added, her smile widening, “I like the idea of you feeling at home here without any pressure.”

“Oh, no,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m onto you now. You may be this relaxed, low-key CEO, but you’ve secretly been spoiling me this entire time. Admit it!”

She laughed, a bright, carefree sound. “Fine, I admit it—I may have bought this place. Technically. But it’s still your home, too.”

Oscar pulled her close again, marvelling at how effortlessly she balanced everything—her high-powered job, their quiet, easygoing life together, her uncanny ability to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world. “You know what?” he murmured, looking into her eyes. “I don’t care if you own half of Monaco. You’re still my love.”

She grinned, leaning her forehead against his. “Good,” she whispered. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

They stayed like that for a moment, her nestled into him, the quiet warmth of the room settling around them. But Oscar couldn’t resist one more question, the thought gnawing at him.

He tilted her chin up to meet his gaze, a smirk playing on his lips. “Alright, one last thing, Miss CEO.” He paused, eyes twinkling. “Is your net worth bigger than mine?”

She tried to stifle a laugh, her eyes darting away as if avoiding the answer itself. “Oscar…”

He gasped, leaning back in exaggerated shock. “Oh my god, it is, isn’t it? You’ve got me beat!”

“I’m not answering that,” she said, biting back a smile as she pressed her lips together stubbornly.

“You don’t need to,” he replied, grinning even wider. “The silence says it all. Here I thought I was the big shot, and my girlfriend’s out here just quietly sitting on an empire.”

She laughed, reaching up to ruffle his hair. “Well, maybe I just like watching you think you’re the fancy one.”

He pulled her close again, laughing softly. “Alright, fine. But don’t think I won’t bring this up anytime you try to sneak the bill.”

She grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Deal.”

Oscar chuckled, still shaking his head in disbelief. He leaned back, looking up at the ceiling as if he’d just pieced together some incredible mystery. “You know, our kid is going to be spoiled,” he said, the words slipping out with a grin.

He felt her shift beside him, and when he looked down, her expression had softened, her eyes faraway, a little spark of excitement in them. “They won’t,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Humble start, just like we both had.”

“Oh, so you’ll be the strict parent, then?” he teased, arching an eyebrow. “The one laying down the law?”

She laughed, giving him a gentle shove. “So I’m the bad cop?”

“Absolutely. I’m not budging on this.” He grinned, taking her hands in his as he leaned in close. “You’ve been lying to me for four years about practically everything. I think that officially makes you the bad cop in this relationship.”

She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face was warm, even a little shy. “Fine, I’ll take ‘bad cop’… but only if you’re ready to be the softie who gives in.”

Oscar laughed, wrapping his arms around her, feeling that sense of joy settle in even deeper. “Deal, I was already planning on it” he whispered, his voice full of promise. And as he held her close, he realised he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oscar pulled her even closer, his hands resting gently on her cheeks as he took in the warmth of her gaze, her face illuminated softly in the low light. The playful edge between them softened into something deeper, and the laughter faded into quiet, shared breath.

Slowly, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers in a soft, lingering kiss that held all the words they hadn’t said. Her hands slid up to his shoulders, fingers curling there as she melted into him, and for a moment, everything—the teasing, the surprises, the whole world around them—faded away.

the end.

[jackpiastri]

helping hands – op81

oscar is sore from the race, and you'd do anything to help him feel better.

pairing: gender neutral reader x oscar piastri

genre: fluff

warnings: none

author's note: okay soooo today in an interview after the race, oscar was asked if the race was physical – and he answered "my neck's feeling it". and as you may know by now, i do very very much love his neck. so i thought to myself ".....i volunteer to give him a lil massage 🤭", and then this happened. shoutout to my love arms anon, this one's to us neck lovers (and all of you who we've managed to turn into fans of oscar's neck on our journey) <3

and again, this is not my actual blog. check out @httpiastri for more stuff :)

f1 masterlist

you’re standing in the hotel bathroom, wrapping yourself in a fluffy bathrobe after a long shower, when you hear his voice from the other room.

"can you come here for a second?"

the bedroom is dark when you step into it, the low light from the lamp on your bedside table being the only thing illuminating your lover. oscar is lying on his stomach on the bed, his face pushed deep into a pillow. his back rises and lowers with his breaths, the muscles of his upper body peeking out from the duvet covering his bottom half.

"what’s up?" you ask, sitting down next to him on the bed.

he shuffles a little and soon, his head is sideways on the pillows, eyes looking up at you. "my neck is killing me."

"i don’t think that position is making it better, love."

he lets out a groan, which is then followed by a moment of silence as you wait for him to say something. you let one of your hands drag along his shoulder blades, almost as if to help him speak, and his eyes close from the sensation. "could you help me out?"

your heart softens at the question. "of course." you move a little closer, your hand moving through his newly washed hair as if to tell him that you want him to look down again. once his head is in place, you move one of your legs over his body, settling right above his hips.

your hands slide along his back before reaching his neck. you dig your thumbs along the base of it, going all the way up to the back of his head before moving down again. it's soft at first, but your touches grow firmer as time passes, wanting to force his muscles to relax. you feel oscar easing up under your fingers and he hums, letting go of all stress and pressure of the weekend.

there's something so sweet, yet so sensual, about moments like this with him. the way the room is so still and quiet, except for the low sounds of pleasure leaving his mouth; the way his skin feels under your hands, soft and warm; the way your heart flutters when you remember that no one else gets him like this, only you.

there's something about it that makes you feel so connected to him – and he feels the exact same way about you.

your hands move down right below his neck, and then along to his shoulders, working on the little knots hiding under his well-defined muscles. he lets out a muffled sigh when you press on one specific spot and you smile to yourself.

this is far from the first time he’s asked you to give him some massage after a rough race; the amount of strain his body is put through during a race is obviously very high, so you are always happy to help him out. you would gladly massage him until your hands gave out, but he'd always stop you before they even started to get a little sore. just like now.

as your hands drape along the sides of his spine, he turns his head to the side again. his eyes are still shut, seemingly deep in pleasure even when your hands stop moving. "you are the best, you know?" he says, a slight smile taking over his lips. "thank you."

"you are the best," you counter. "otherwise i wouldn't be doing this."

you can feel the chuckle vibrating through his body before you hear it, and you can't help but grin back at him. he pushes himself up to rest on his elbows and he looks back at you before patting the space next to him on the bed. you climb off his frame, leaning down to lie in the same position as him.

his hand smooths over your cheek, pulling you forward to press your lips onto his. his fingers move down the side of your neck, under your robe, caressing your skin much like you'd done to him just moments before. it's another way for him to thank you.

he's so good to you, so sweet, so perfect – and you are so in love with him.

[checkeredflagggs]

Aftermath of a Storm

Pairing: oscar piastri x sargeant!Storm chaser!fem!reader

summary: people are shocked to learn about alice and oscar

a/n: tbh i really meant for the first part to have more of the other drivers learning about Barbie and Alice but obviously that didn’t happen 😂

a/n 2: timelines? What timelines? Idk know them

Part 1

Bluesky

Private Messages - Logan, Oscar, Alice

Private Messages - The Grid, Fun

Private Messages - Logan, Oscar, Alice

mclaren

liked by drbarbie, teammate1, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 4,822,445 others

tagged: drbarbie, oscarpiastri

mclaren: Check the weather this weekend! Because there must be a storm moving in —Oscar Piastri is taking Dr. Alice “Barbie” Sargeant, Williams Racing’s Logan Sargeant’s twin sister and notable storm chaser, on a hot lap here in Mexico!

view all comments

user1: oh my god this is everything I never knew I needed

user2: oh yeah hey mclaren don’t forget to mention THAT THEY ARE DATING

oscarpiastri: it’s gonna be a good time!

logansargeant: it’s been nice knowing you

oscarpiastri: I’m sure it’ll be fine

logansargeant: you sure about that? you SURE about that?

logansargeant: are we talking about the same girl?

user4: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

user5: LET US IN. LET US IN!! YOURE AMERICAN — SPILL THE TEA

landonorris: Oscar! You didn’t tell me you had a girlfriend!!!! 😡😡😡

oscarpiastri: I’m sure I mentioned it.

landonorris: I’m sure YOU HAVENT!?!

oscarpiastri: of course I have. are you sure you were listening?

landonorris: of course I was LISTENING! You just haven’t said A WORD!? Since when have you had a girlfriend?

oscarpiastri: we’ve been together for nearly 7 years

landonorris: 7 years?!?

oscarpiastri: yes.

landonorris: WHAT?!??!

user6: WHAT?

user7: uhh raise your hand if you had Oscar Piastri has a secret girlfriend, Logan Sargeant has a twin sister, or the two would be the same person on your bingo card this year

user8: ok but if anyone on the grid had a secret girlfriend of course it’s gonna be Oscar?

user7: you got me there

user9: 7 years?!? How do you hide a girlfriend for 7 years? Especially one as cool as drbarbie?

user10: user9 asking the real questions

user11: right?? How did some guy who drives in silly circles score such a cool badass girlfriend?

drbarbie: I ran over him with my bike one day

user11: WHAT?!?

drbarbie: ummmm what is this??? oscarpiastri WHAT DID YOU DO???

logansargeant: apparently signed you up to tackle a hot lap

drbarbie: NO

drbarbie: ABSOLUTELY NOT

drbabrie: SPEED AND I DO! NOT! MIX!!

drbarbie: oscarpiastri ANSWER YOUR PHONE

drbarbie: nicolepiastri where is your son? I’d like to have some words with him

nicolepiastri: you and me both sweetie

user12: you chase tornadoes but can’t do a hot lap?

drbarbie: THERE IS A MAJOR DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO!

user13: and you prefer the storms?

drbarbie: YES!!

f1gossippage

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, teammate1, and 3,997,455 others

f1gossippage: a hot lap for the records! Oscar Piastri drove girlfriend Barbie Sargeant around the track twice today! Definitely seems like she’s not a fan

view all comments

user14: not a fan? I’d say 😂 I didn’t know anyone could scream that high tbh

user15: those were genuinely screams of terror…save my girl 😭

user16: Barbie Sargeant? Nah fam you did not do my girl dirty like that. Put some respect in her damn name. It’s DR. ALICE “BARBIE” SARGEANT

user17: oh thank god someone said it. She did not get 2 phd’s by the time she was 21 to have that be disrespected

user18: no shit really?

user17: yes! She graduated with double phd’s in meteorology and mechanical engineering from Cornell when she was 20!

user18: so fucking cool! And yea! PUT SOME DAMN RESPECT IN HER NAME!

user19: someone with more experience needs to watch this entire clip and then make gif sets of the ENTIRE thing because her face goes on a lot of journeys

user20: most of those journeys end in murder i think

drbarbie: they do. They will

logansargeant: maybe don’t threaten Oscar on a public instagram post?

drbarbie: for once in your life, stay in your lane. Unless you’d like to join him?

logansargeant: …carry on.

user20: logansargeant what was that??

logansargeant: I support women’s Rights and Wrongs

drbarbie: good

oscarpiastri: oh these are good pictures!

drbarbie: you are a dead man walking Piastri

oscarpiastri: would you really hurt me?

drbarbie: yes

oscarpiastri: what about my mother and sisters?

drbarbie: nicolepiastri soooo…you’re gonna be down a son soon. I can offer Logan?

nicolepiastri: oh we’d love to have the two of you visit again soon logansargeant and drbarbie

oscarpiastri: nicolepiastri mum??

user21: not nicolepiastri supporting this 🤣😭

teammate1: 😂😂😂

drbarbie: I sign your checks. Watch yourself

teammate1: girl this is too damn funny

drbarbie: 🙄😑

Private Messages - Oscar, Logan, Alice

drbarbie

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, and 3,728,388 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

drbarbie: it’s your turn now! 🥰

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user22: the hearts make this a very ominous message

drbarbie: it’s supposed to be!

user22: oh!

oscarpiastri: babe?

oscarpiastri: what do you mean my turn?

drbarbie: I told you! I’d only ever get in your car when you get in mine!

drbarbie: so convenient that you have a break and dolly is back from the mechanics right now! 🧡🩵🧡

oscarpiastri: ummm…🏃🏻‍♂️💨

user23: ok but is she really gonna take him through a tornado???

user24: that does seem like it’s the plan?

user23: I can’t watch this 🙈

user24: she’s a professional?

drbarbie: more confidence in me please

user24: you right you right

user: SHES A PROFESSIONAL

drbarbie: thank you!

logansargeant: good luck! Have fun!

drbarbie: 😊😊😊

logansargeant:…no.

logansargeant: What did I do?

logansargeant: come on I helped you

logansargeant: I’m on your side!!

teammate3: dolly is ready to roll!!

oscarpiastri: that better be a joke

teammate1:…

teammate2:…

teammate3:…

teammate4:…

teammate5:…

Private Messages - The Grid, Serious

drbarbie

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, charles_leclerc, and 4,288,373 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, logansargeant

drbarbie: don’t worry guys! They made it through the “storm” a-ok! (Come on guys, have a little faith. I’d never actually take someone unprepared into an actual tornado. Plus prime tornado season is over for the year!)

view all comments

user25: oh thank god. I was so very nervous

user26: girl you ain’t the only one. Check the video at 14:25. Oscar’s fingers are fucking white with panic 😂😂

oscarpiastri: thank you love for not subjecting me to a tornado

logansargeant: yes thank you my very favorite sister who is definitely the best and best and most wonderful

oscarpiastri: yes! Most wonderful and loving and beautiful girlfriend ever

drbarbie:…laying it on a little bit thick aren’t you?

logansargeant: quite literally whatever I have to do so I never ever ever ever have to get in that truck again!

drbarbie: don’t you dare disrespect dolly!

logansargeant: never!

oscarpiastri: dolly is a queen! We aren’t worthy.

logansargeant: yes! We definitely shouldn’t be in that truck ever again

drbarbie: babies…fine

user26: wow!!!! 🤩 those photos are stunning!

drbarbie: thank you! When I was planning this I knew the conditions were gonna be good for some nice thunderstorms but even I didn’t expect this level!

user26: so you just…followed them around?

drbarbie: yup! It’s something our parents used to do for me when logie and I were young - the driving being a lot more calm then normal is just about the only difference (my passengers complained the entire time 🙄)

user27: oh that’s so cute! (They seem like the type 😂)

landonorris: stunning

drbarbie: thank you!

oscarpiastri: no

landonorris: I didn’t say anything?

oscarpiastri: and yet the answer is no. Go away

georgerussell63: shut down!

landonorris: why am I catching strays on my comment thread???

charles_leclerc: these are magnificent photos! And it looked like a fun trip to get them

drbarbie: thank you! (Oh my god oscarpiastri I’ve been noticed by your father!)

oscarpiastri: that’s cool babe

charles_leclerc: yes! Welcome to the family. We expect you for dinner soon

drbarbie: score!

alicepublic

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and 3,590,455 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

alicepublic: happy anniversary my love. The best 7 years of my life so far — with many more to go 🧡🧡🧡

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oscarpiastri: I can’t believe that it’s only been 7 years, I feel like I’ve known you for a lifetime already — I couldn’t imagine spending it with anyone else.

alicepublic: oh my love…

user28: water is wet. Fork found in the kitchen. I’m sleeping on the highway!

user29: sleepover!!

oscarpiastri: You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me 🩷

mclaren: you won the race last week?

alicepublic: uhhh your point?

oscarpiastri: and? I said what I said!

mclaren: alrighty then! Well said!

charles_leclerc: happy anniversary my son and daughter in law!

alicepublic: not a daughter in law yet but thank you!

oscarpiastri: soon!

alicepublic: WHAT?!? 😳 🫢

logansargeant: 7 years of being a third wheel and they don’t even tag me…EVEN THOUGH I'M VERY BLATANTLY IN THIS PHOTO DUMP

alicepublic: chill out dude

oscarpiastri: thank you for being our favorite third wheel and for taking these wonderful photos

logansargeant: Oscar is my favorite

alicepublic: I’d be mad but same tbh

user30: it’s been years but yay! Dr Barbie’s priv account is finally open

user31: oh my god baby her and baby Oscar are so cute!

user30: I know!! I’ve been getting fomo going through her posts - like what do you mean I haven’t been growing up with them?

user32: yeah alicepublic can we get an explanation for that photo near the beginning of you on a bike and Oscar bleeding?

alicepublic: that was the first day we met! My bike broke (no brakes) and as I was trying to slow down I accidentally ran over Oscar!

oscarpiastri: best accident I’ve ever had!

user32: ok this is the cutest meet-cute! ♥️

landonorris: unfortunately you guys are cute…

alicepublic: what 🥺 🥺 …

oscarpiastri: what do you mean unfortunately?

landonorris: yeah — can’t have anyone cuter than me in the garage so you’re uninvited to mclaren

oscarpiastri: happily you can’t make those decisions (slides $5 to mclaren)

mclaren: don’t worry alicepublic ! Permanent paddock pass for you!

landonorris: WHAT? NO!

landonorris: IM STILL CATCHING STRAYS ON MY COMMENT THREADS

[agendabymooner]

12345sex ! oscar p. x ofc (singer!ofc)

“and i like the way you taste, some liquor and a chaser.”

summary: oscar’s cutely obsession over mercury ‘mercy’ nicoletta was apparent that lando clowned him for it. little did everyone know, mercy’s wild boyfriend was the polite australian from the mclaren team.

content warning: use of explicit language, based on a request by @happy-nico, feral!ofc x feral!oscar, lando clowning oscar, suggestive posts (16+), haters gonna hate, fluff

note: this isn’t much😩 but enjoy some freaky oscar

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, girlinred

user1 mother 😭

user2 mommy- sorry- mommy? sorry-

oscarpiastri 🤩

user3 lmao what- IS THAT OSCAR PIASTRI 😭

user4 bestie who tf is he? 🤧🤧

user3 some guy who goes zoom zoom on a car

user5 oscar pastry on his mercy simp shit— again

user6 idk who he is but apparently mclaren needs to control this oscar guy

SHUFFLING PLAYLIST w/ LANDO AND OSCAR by mclaren

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris

user1 LETS ALL GO HOME HE WON

user2 mama y papa?

user3 why dis photo kinda— 🤤🥵

user4 girl if my bf’s back give me more space to scratch on i wouldn’t behave too 😩

mercuryisme so real for that 😭

landonorris oscarpiastri go home lad she's not choosing you

user5 NAW LANDO THAT IS MANIACAL 😭😭

user6 lando’s about to catch hands bro 😫

oscarpiastri aren’t you single? 🧐

user7 ACTUAL VIOLATION STAWP 💀

tagged oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, arthur_leclerc, landonorris

logansargeant i didn’t think he wasn’t being delirious when he said you to were dating😄

mercuryisme 😇😇

arthur_leclerc freaky oscar??? since when???

oscarpiastri 🙂 don’t worry about it

arthur_leclerc cool 🙃

landonorris still baffled but okay 💀

landonorris that man is obsessed with you, you know that right?

landonorris that’s not my teammate— you’re dating a different oscar piastri mate

mercuryisme i can tell you i’m seeing the same oscar you’re seeing, norris 🙂 same neck, same back, same everything

landonorris ew, don’t need to get graphic

mercuryisme stop questioning the integrity of my oscar piastri then 😇

user1 oscar piastri, certified freak

user2 seven days a week 😭

user3 wap? pullout game weak?

user4 i’m more surprised that it was her on her knees instead of oscar on that previous post tho 😄🥲

user5 THIS ISNT WHO WE ARE OSCAR!!!

user6 vegas can change so many people...

oscarpiastri who said anything about this being a vegas effect?

user6 what 😟

oscarpiastri 🫢 liked by mercuryisme

mercuryisme hehe 🤭

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen