#my first Oscar fic!

[vinvantae]

Imma say 45 and Oscar 💜

Thank you my love!

Doomed - Bring Me the Horizon (Live at the Royal Albert Hall)

Gonna be an angsty one, strap in

****************

And you know I’m in love with the mess, but I think I like it

Oscar could barely register the words leaving his lips as the two of you screamed at each other. The start of the season had been abysmal, only 4 points to his name - moving to McLaren was supposed to be his fresh start but it felt like the beginning of the end.

And then there was you. The distance had not been doing your relationship any favours, but he couldn’t bring himself to end it. It wasn’t worth saving but every time you argued, every time you rained on his parade when he had a small moment of joy - he felt something.

Everything was messy and he was sure the thin walls of his motorhome weren’t keeping the curses you were hollering at him private. It felt like you had clipped his wings there was no way out - as you screamed as loud as you could.

The sun didn’t shine, it never did. When it rained, it fucking poured. But he loved every second of it. It was messy and toxic but he craved you.

“Say something, Oscar!”

He watched for a moment as your chest rose and fall, your face red and eyes puffy from the tears. His warm hand came up to rest on your jaw and before you could protest he pressed his lips to yours in a messy kiss - starting the cycle all over again.

There was just something about you that he couldn’t quit, he was in love with the mess. And as you shoved him back - he stumbled onto the sofa, your frown replaced with a smirk, his head was in overdrive.

The argument long forgotten when you straddled his lap, capturing his lips in another kiss, another mistake.

The two of you were doomed.

[tinseltownie]

I died btw

[imeriayapping]

Logan. Logan WHAT DO YOU MEAN "CAN'T GET AWAY FROM EACHOTHER"

WHAT DO YOU MEAN

[strawberry-daiquiris]

happy lando is 25 day! quarter of a century, cheers ears etc. what a wonderful day!!!

inspired ✨ to write some established relationship landoscar celebrating to celebrate lando becoming old and haggard (spoiler: he's not, he's just being dramatic, they're probably just blonde, right?)

They’re granted a rare, extra day off for Lando’s birthday. Andrea takes Oscar to one side in the MTC, looking all sincere with a furrowed brow, and tells him he thinks it’ll be good, for Lando, for them, to have some time alone for his birthday after everything, lately. Oscar’s phone starts lighting up ten minutes later, notification after notification of his meetings getting cancelled for Wednesday, crossed through in his Google calendar. 

Not that it can really be considered time alone. Lando’s playing golf with Max at 11, and they’re going to a restaurant in London tonight with his family.

Still, it has been nice, spending a couple of nights at the hotel together. It’s the kind of place they don’t really stay that often, grand in an old fashioned way, paint chipping off corners and daring you to complain when it’s all part of the character. Last night Oscar went for a swim, and the only other people in the pool were nearly triple his age. He had a great conversation with Mary, celebrating her 50th wedding anniversary, cooing over how nice a boy he is.

Lando’s got a special relationship with the girl on the front desk after she fixed the pizza disaster. He tells Oscar about it in a vague way that’d be pretty worrying, if he hadn’t been watching Max’s stream at the time, curled up in his bed in Monaco thinking he should’ve flown in a day earlier. 

Lando’s in bed himself, right now, still snoring. Oscar’s managed to pull on a pair of joggers he doesn’t think are actually his to open the door to room service. He’d arranged breakfast direct with the kitchen, trying to bypass Lando’s card on file to sign for it himself. It’s not really a birthday surprise, after all, if you make the person celebrating pay for it. 

“Thanks,” he whispers, relieved when he sees it’s Lando’s pizza girl. “Did you get the note about…”

“Mayonnaise?” Her smile as she says it makes something curl in Oscar’s stomach. The horrifying idea that anybody else but him knows Lando’s quirks, even when Oscar knows they’re on show for the world to see. Half of Twitter probably knows about the mayonnaise thing. “Yeah, we might have to get an extra delivery in if he keeps staying.”

Oscar smiles, laughs, even though inside he’s sort of plotting how he can get Lando barred from staying here ever again. They could buy somewhere, near the MTC, he reckons, with their salaries.

As soon as the thought comes, Oscar shakes it off.

It’s mad talk, wanting to buy a house with the guy you’ve been seeing for six months, even if you’ve known him longer, even if you spend most of your lives in each others pockets. 

He notices the snoring has stopped when he starts wheeling the trolley into the main area of the suite. Oscar frowns. Silence is never a good sign, with Lando. It’s either the snuffling breaths of his sleep, the repetitive sounds of a game, or incessant talking. He’s been silent more, lately. 

Oscar pops his head around the door to the bedroom. Lando’s laying on his back, frowning at something in his hand. For a second, Oscar thinks it’s his phone, that Lando’s back reading the bullshit people are writing about him again.

“Uh, hey,” Oscar says, then stops. Not exactly how you greet your boyfriend on his birthday. Even if he’d said it last night when the clocks flickered to midnight, buried deep inside Lando, kissing his neck and his shoulders as they both tried to stave off coming for a little bit longer. “Happy Birth-”

“Have you seen this?” Lando interrupts, sitting up abruptly, holding himself up on one elbow. He sticks his hand out in Oscar’s direction. “I’ve got fricken’ grey pubes.”

Alright, so not his phone then.

Oscar can’t help but laugh, one of the special ones he thinks he reserves pretty much only for Lando, collapsing a bit into his own chest with a huff, letting out the warm air that collects in his chest and has been whispering you love him for a good year now. 

“Can’t say I noticed that one last night,” Oscar tells him, and Lando rolls his eyes, brandishing what Oscar now knows is a pubic hair in the air. “Alright fine, I’m coming, let me see.”

He climbs onto the bed, the joggers he’s now sure are Lando’s slipping further and further down his arse as he crawls. He kicks Lando’s legs apart so he can rest between them, and Lando automatically curls an ankle over his. It’s what they do when they can’t touch properly - in meetings, on planes, sitting in the back of cars in countries that’d kick them out or worse if they knew.

It’s been easier, since they told Andrea and Zak, since it’s gone from secret to just private, at least at work. 

Oscar takes the pube from Lando, holding it up to the slither of light that’s coming in from where they’ve not quite closed the curtain.

Lando looks up at him a bit hopeful, like he’s desperate to be proven wrong. Happier to find out he’s colour blind to greyscale than being old. 

Unfortunately, there’s no mistaking it. It’s definitely lighter than the rest.

“Ah, that does look a little grey, mate, yes.”

Lando groans, flopping down against the pillows, screwing his eyes shut. 

“Might as well just die,” he says dramatically. Oscar sits back, sliding his hands onto Lando’s naked thighs, rubbing them, watching the muscles tense and getting a bit distracted by just how hot he is. It’s a better option, sometimes, than listening to him. “I’m fucking old. Do they even let old people drive? I’m gonna need a fucking pube transplant.”

Oscar snorts. Convenient that he’s forgotten about Fernando being nearly twenty years older than him. 

“You don’t need a pube transplant,” Oscar says, using the sensible voice he puts on when he needs to explain something to Lando. He’s complained before it makes Oscar sound like a teacher, storming off into another room and coming back ten minutes later with a wicked glint in his eye and a potentially slightly illegal PornHub tab open in incognito. “They’re fine. Look…”

He slides his fingers into the tuft Lando’s got above the fat base of his dick. It’s pretty much the same consistency as his facial hair, which he’s absolutely forbidden to mention if he doesn’t want Lando getting the huff for a half hour. 

“Very brown, completely normal for a 25 year old.”

Lando groans again.

“25 is so old, it’s halfway to fucking 50.” Lando grumbles. “Who’s even 50? Aren’t they all dead?”

“Mark’s nearly 50,” Oscar says, then cringes immediately, curling his fingers a bit too tight in Lando’s pubes. His head veers up, eyes a bit dark. Number one rule, no mentioning Mark when either of them is naked, it never ends well. “And er, our Dads? Andrea’s older than that too, and um… Zak.”

Lando screws his face up.

“Oscar, don’t mention Zak when you’re touching my dick, please.”

Despite the annoyance, there’s a hopefulness in the way he says it. Oscar is more than happy to oblige, if it gets him off the hook. He slides down the bed, and even though Lando hasn’t showered and still smells of sweat and come from last night, Oscar takes him into his mouth. He might not be able to play golf, but he can organise breakfast and give a mean blowjob, so he reckons he’s alright. 

Lando’s easy for it, writhing and bucking his hips, and Oscar wants to make it good. Eases Lando’s hips up so he can slide deeper, feeling the press at the entrance to his throat.

After Lando comes, he starts choking, and Oscar has to push him back gently, come still coating his mouth. Lando’s really good at things like this, immediately sitting up to caress the back of Oscar’s head, looking worried. It’s one of the best parts about doing stuff with someone who’d never been with a bloke before Oscar, actually. He still finds the gross parts of sex vaguely horrifying. 

“Are you alright?” Lando asks, and Oscar nods, pressing his fingers into his mouth and swiping around until he finds the culprit, dragging it out from his throat and holding it up.

They both look at it. Drenched in Oscar’s saliva, it’s darker than the first, but it’s still unmistakably grey.

“Don’t,” Lando warns, and Oscar nods, reaching his hand off the bed and flicking his fingers until it drops to the floor, someone else’s problem. “Fucking don’t.”

Oscar snorts, dropping his lips to the inside of Lando’s knee, kissing the soft hairless part that’s only for him. He nods to the door, and the trolley with the steaming plates of waffles, pancakes, and inexplicably, mayonnaise.

He smiles. It’s criminal, really, how much he likes Lando.

“Breakfast?”

[fortunapre]

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘𖧞 once a year, your family visits your holiday home for christmas break, which also happens to be the one time you see your childhood enemy, Oscar. (Ongoing)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𖧞 16+ (suggestive), fluff, first-time-writing-on-here-so-beware, female reader, i think that’s all. Use of Y/N (as little as possible), swearing

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𖧞 oscar piastri x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓𖧞 (scene 1) 1.1k 𖧞 planning on a couple posts so a lot upcoming.

𝐀/𝐍𖧞 this IS my first fic and post on here, so if the writing is mediocre that’s why. Hate comments will not be tolerated (obv). Also, I’m planning on this being a multi-post fic so word count will grow. Enjoy!

𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𖧞 scene i 𖧞 (𝐎𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫)

“Hairless Hugh Jackman or Skinny Henry Cavill?”

My head rested against the cold window of the car, my eyes closed. I was tired and bored, but the game of ‘this or that’ being played next to me, kept my mind awake. I wouldn’t admit it but my siblings' answers and conversations could actually be entertaining. Now being a prime example.

I considered the question more deeply than I probably should have. “Hairless Hugh takes away everything good about him, so obviously Henry.” I answered with my eyes still closed and head against the window.

“Ew, no,” My sister replied. “Henry’s body in the Superman movies are, like, all that I live for. I couldn’t care less about Hugh Jackman.” She laughed and scrunched her nose like she was picturing both options. I just smiled, acknowledging her answer before opening my eyes to stare at the passing trees out of the window.

My forehead was cold from the temperature outside but I was too awestruck by the view: white covered trees and mountains stretched for miles. The winter season cloaked the entire outdoors and snow sparked in the little sunlight. I couldn’t wait until we reached the cabin.

My sister and brother, twins, were only a year younger than me, so their experiences with Christmas break are similar to mine.

Every year, my family travels to Canada and stays in our winter cabin over Christmas Break. Safe to say, I have been waiting for Christmas break to start since July. It’s the only time of year I feel at peace without the commotion of work and stress.

And I guess the view’s nice too.

We had been driving for hours in a tightly packed minivan, and past a group of trees, I spotted a small town, meaning we were close to our destination. Next to me, I felt my sister shift and basically lie on top of me to get a look out of the window. I grumbled and tried to push her off since her elbow was digging in my side but she was unrelenting.

“Wow, look at this!” She spoke to my brother who was sitting two seats away from me. He had his own window and looked just as mesmerized as I was. No matter how many times we visit, the scenery would never be anything but gorgeous.

The tires of the minivan crunched as we pulled onto the gravel driveway of the cabin. Immediately, my family began piling out and grabbing everything we packed, which was a lot. I walked through the large door of the cabin with very little visibility because of the mound of blankets and bags I was carrying. I started heading straight towards my bedroom before I knocked into someone without looking and everything fell from my arms. I gasped and started muttering about how they should have moved out of the way, fully expecting the person I bumped into to be one of my siblings but as I looked up I saw who I actually bumped into and immediately shut up.

“Oh, it’s just you.” I deadpanned. I stood up straight and quit trying to pick up my stuff, resting a hand on my hip at the person in front of me.

Oscar Piastri. As in the son of the family that stayed in the cabin with us every summer.

Nicole and Chris Piastri, his parents, were my parents’ best friends since highschool. But, when we moved to America and they stayed in Australia, the only time we ever see the Piastri family is over Christmas Break.

Earlier, when I was talking about how much I adore the cabin, I forgot about this information. I take back what I said. Christmas Break is not a break of peace. Instead, its weeks of torture and stress as i barely survive around Mr. Annoying, himself: Oscar Piastri.

What’s annoying about him isn’t that he’s loud or obnoxious- it’s the very opposite.

Ever since we were little, when our families lived a block away from each other, Oscar barely reacted to anything. Most adults or kids our age loved his calm exterior and how ‘mature he was for his age,’ meanwhile I was constantly regarded as a ‘trouble child.’

I was jealous. Of Course I was jealous. Oscar got praised for years and I was pushed away and given a sucker to stay away.

What was the worst, however, was how Oscar acted around me. To others he was a saint, but around me, he made sure to agonize me any chance he got. He would push me off of the swing and then when adults would ask what happened he would pretend like I fell and he was helping me up.

Asshole.

Anyways, now I only have to see him once a year, but those few weeks in December make me want to rip my hair out and run away with a hairless Hugh Jackman.

When I saw who I bumped into, my excited smile was replaced with what felt like a snarl. Oscar stood in front of me, a stupid sirk on his lips, probably having ran into me on purpose.

“Y/n. Didn’t see you there.” He said, a sly smirk still present. He was wearing an orange hoodie, no doubt merch of his. Because, did I mention, Perfect-Piastri also happens to be a Formula-fucking-One Mclaren Racing driver.

Yeah…

So, another thing he holds above me.

“Yeah sure you didn’t” I mutter while moving to shove everything back into my arms. But as I picked up one thing, another fell and instead of noticing my struggle and helping, Oscar just stood there. However, once my parents barreled through the door, arms just as full as mine was, so in order to look helpful, Oscar bent down to carry the heaviest bag.

“Oh! Oscar,” my mom noticed him. “We had no idea you guys had arrived yet.” She had a warm smile on her lips, genuinely happy to see him. “We were hoping to get here first and start cooking dinner.”

She motioned towards my dad who held the bags of groceries we had bought before heading here. In the bags were cans of yams and frozen veggies, indicating their plans.

“Oh, no worries.” Oscar replies, with a matching smile. “My mom started cooking already. We would definitely be happy to enjoy your cooking tomorrow, though. I really am a sucker for your candied yams.”

I watched the scene unfold and rolled my eyes.

Oscar turned back towards me with an amused look and started walking away towards my room, my bag in hand. I shut my eyes tightly, and looked up, praying that I wouldn't go insane this month before following him up the stairs.

(SCENE ii) click here

pinterest-piece 𖧞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐜

[wisteriagoesvroom]

two left socks

a landoscar fic rated g/t 6.2k words read on ao3

preview:

Without ceremony, Oscar yanks his beanie off, and shoves it on Lando’s head. “What?” Lando says. “You wouldn’t shut up about your hair.” “But yours is messy, now.” “Doesn’t matter. We’re staying focused on the task at hand.” “I’ve been plenty focused on the task at hand!” Oscar arches one eyebrow. He has been told he has sharp eyebrows, and that they are the most telling part of his face, which otherwise carries minimal expression. (He tries not to think too much about how Lando may perceive his eyebrows.) “Besides, you have more of a hat head.” Oscar adds. “What do you know about my head?” Lando says. Oscar doesn’t know how to answer that in a socially acceptable way, so he just shoves his gloved hands in his coat pockets, and waits.

Or, what happens when i smash together clothes swapping, fluff, banter, and lots of pining?? this. a 6k fic from a tumblr prompt that took me too long to write.

[maxthebabylion]

“You have to win it.”

Max heard, this little grumpy voice next to him.

“What?” was the only thing he can come up with as an answer, he was about to fall asleep, wrapped up in cozy sheets.

“You have to win it.”

“Ok what’s going on honey?”

“It was for fucking nothing, all of it. You just have to win it.”

This bring Max to his senses, Oscar was clearly upset one look at his face confirmed everything Max need to know with red eyes and runny nose. He had his phone in his hand, looking to the screen like it killed his childhood pet.

“Tell me what happened? What are you doing with your phone in the middle of the night?”

“They are saying they never intended to win the driver’s, their only focus was always constructor’s. But they took my wins, my podium places. They tricked me Max.” he was trembling a little, Max never seen him like this.

“We would’ve finished 1-2 in the sprint even if we didn’t swapped positions, same amount of points isn’t it? They are discrediting all my hard work, all this papaya rules thing was really shit. I should’ve never accepted their agenda, they never deserved it. So you have to win it Max please.”

Max now fully awake, back against the headrest took Oscar’s hand in his own, calmed him down then took the phone and read some of the interview Oscar just saw.

He was saying the truth, there in bold letters saying constructors is the priority for Mclaren, after all the sacrifices Oscar made they were giving up just like that. Max knew this would’ve happened, never mentioned it to Oscar because he respected his boyfriend’s choices. Even if he suspected it to happen, the situation was still disappointing.

He couldn’t imagine how Oscar was feeling right now, betrayal coming from your so called family must’ve been so hard to deal with otherwise Oscar never would’ve mentioned anything related to championship to Max. He never did, intertwined his team and their relationship like this.

This was a first, he actually asked Max for something and Max would be damned if he didn’t make it happen.

“I will, i will win it for you.”

[strawberriesinmoominvalley]

in celebration of landoscar breaching top 10 pairings in formula on ao3, have a tiny snippet of a coming fanfic:

“You knew?” Lando screeched. “Well, yeah.” At Lando’s flummoxed expression, Oscar continued, a grin creeping at the corners of his mouth. “You were trying to court me, Lando.” “I didn’t think you realised.” Lando looked away, gaze flickering into the copse of trees that bordered the edge of the garden. Oscar bumped his shoulder, and Lando met his eyes for a brief moment. Oscar’s cheeks were pink. “It’s- well, you didn’t exactly say anything, did you?” “I didn’t,” Oscar agreed, looking down into his lap. His hands twitched slightly, a nervous gesture. Lando pressed the side of his cheek against Oscar’s shoulder, rubbing against it. He felt Oscar visibly relax under his touch. “I didn’t want to pressure you.” Oh. “But I was trying to court you!” “It wasn’t that I didn’t want you.” Oscar’s voice was steady. Despite that, Lando startled at the words. He turned to look at Oscar, seeing the other look more flushed than he’d ever seen him. “God, Lando- I want you more than anything. But I didn’t want you to go with it because I’m an alpha.” “You’re not like them.” Lando reached out a careful hand, taking Oscar’s in his. “You haven’t done anything to pressure me - you haven’t even commanded me-” Oscar recoiled at those words. “I wouldn’t command you. That’s to save someone’s life, not for control. God, it’s- I wouldn’t.”

[utopiastri]

tagged by the darling @ipleadbritney to post my last lines - thank you, dear! 💕

He definitely isn’t going to read into the way the disappointment vanishes when he sees texts from Lando timestamped twenty minutes ago. Lando Norris alright we need a new signal a this guy is super annoying pls come save me signal i spent ten minutes tonight hearing about some guy's stamp collection his stamp collection Oscar stares at the name at the top of the screen.

no pressure tagging @1425fivefive, @wanderingblindly, @nyoomfruits (and apologising to you all for the inevitable double tags) 💕

[its-all-papaya]

I did it ! if you're here, you've probably already read these, but now all kiss prompts will be on ao3 for your free consumption in another form ✨

[sammybye16]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Formula 1 RPF Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Lando Norris/Oscar Piastri Characters: Lando Norris, Oscar Piastri, Original Male Character(s) Additional Tags: Eventual Happy Ending, Mafia AU, Guilt, Eventual Romance, POV Lando Norris, Lando Norris-centric, Lando Norris Needs a Hug, Oscar Piastri Needs a Hug, Protective Oscar Piastri Summary:

In a small, rundown garage, Lando’s desperate need for cash leads him to accept a job that could change everything—or end his life. When two ominous men in sharp suits arrive, their commanding presence and veiled threats make it clear that this is no ordinary repair job. Tasked with fixing a high-stakes car belonging to a dangerous figure in the criminal underworld, Lando finds himself racing against the clock to complete the impossible task. As he grapples with the looming threat of violence and the weight of his choices, he must confront the terrifying reality of what happens when desperation meets danger. Will he succeed and secure the money he desperately needs, or will he pay the ultimate price for stepping into a world he doesn’t understand? Will he eventually met someone who will see him?

[origami-butterfly]

*drops this and runs*

Thanks to @pyxxie-nyxxie for beta reading!!

[jayholdenworld]

Oscar's Thoughts (Sneak Peek of a Future Fic)

I'll Be Safe In Your Sound ('til I Come Back Around) by Raven_TheDeathGod

(●▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬๑۩۩๑▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬●)

Oscar’s first year in the Formula 1 paddock was weird, to say the least. After so many years of having Logan by his side, this year was awfully different. He was alone as a reserve driver, his team was completely different, and he was looked down on because he was a “Beta”. He even had an Alpine Alpha insulting him.

He was working for his dream, but this was terrible. The Australian knew that Alphas here were stupid and felt like they were the best thing in the world, Mark had told him that when Oscar came out to him and told him he wanted to keep a low profile as an Alpha. And he understood it would be bad, but not this bad.

-Gays and Omegas are the unlucky victims in this sport Oscar. The FIA will want you to act like you can only love women. Most drivers fear losing their seats, so they would do anything to keep their contracts for one more year. -That’s why you got my mother pregnant? Because you were one of them? That’s why you left Fernando AND Sebastian? Because you were too scared to fight for them? -Just keep doing your job, kid. Don’t push or they will cut you and destroy your career. Even if you’re an Alpha. -Luckily for both of us. I don’t care what they do. I just want to achieve my dream, and I’m near it. Once that is done, they can burn me to death if they want.

Even if he knew the world was going to be bad, he didn’t expect them to be this cruel. So many omegas had shown their value and how amazing they were in this sport. But they were not respected at all, and that was so disappointing. Nothing had changed even if six of the last twelve championships were won by omegas.

[ildiavoloro55o]

Here’s a short sneak peek of a sad Carlos fic I started writing after Las Vegas.

It’s called “There it is again (that funny feeling)” the name might change.

It’s a multi chapter fic coming soon to a website (ao3) near you. It’s Carlando and it’s angsty.

Let me know how you guys feel about this and I’ll try to finish the first chapter (it’s almost done) and post it asap. ☺️

He’s standing in the pouring rain.

That’s how Oscar finds him. It had been a few hours since the race, and everything had come to an end. McLaren's race debrief had just ended thirty minutes ago, and everyone was preparing to return to the hotel; some of the crew had already begun disassembling the hospitality and packing it to send it to the next track. Oscar tries to ignore him and go his own way, but something tells him not to, so he walks over to him and shelters him from the rain with his umbrella.

When the rain stops suddenly, Carlos looks up, first at the umbrella, then at Oscar, surprised.

"You know you get sick standing in the rain. We still have one more race to go.” Oscar says, awkwardly smiling.

“Hello, Oscar. Sorry about the race and the crash.”

"It wasn't your fault. We both were on the unlucky side of that Haas car.”

"Hmm," Carlos says with a nod.

"So, what are you doing out here in the rain?"

"How is everything at McLaren? Are they treating you well?" Carlos avoids answering Oscar's question by asking him one of his own.

Something feels off, but Oscar can’t figure out what yet he still answers, “Yeah. They’re good. They are very nice people. I am lucky to drive for them.”

"Good, good. You’re a good kid, Oscar. And a good driver. Don’t let anyone get you down, okay?”

"Thank you," Oscar says, but something is gnawing at the back of his mind. He has a strange feeling that something is going to happen. “Are you okay, Carlos? Were you waiting for Lando?” Oscar gestures vaguely towards the motorhomes, saying, "I think he is still at the motorhome. Do you want me to go get him?”

“No. No. I’ll see him later at the hotel. Is he being a good teammate to you?”

“He is. But I believe you two were the better teammates. You two worked well.”

“Yeah. We did.” Carlos smiles wistfully, lost in some memory.

The rain has finally stopped. Carlos looks at Oscar and steps out from under the umbrella so that Oscar can close it.

“Thanks for the umbrella, Oscar. It has been a pleasure racing alongside you. You are doing fantastic. You will be amazing again next season as well."

“Thank you, and it has been fun racing you too. We’ve still got plenty more races to do.”

Carlos just smiles at him. He looks sombre, as if he found the answer to the thing he was looking for.

“Goodbye, Oscar. Take care of yourself and Lando. He’ll need someone there.”

"You, too. I’ll see you in Abu Dhabi.”

Carlos turns and walks away. Oscar watches him go, and Carlos becomes smaller and smaller as he walks further away. But something Carlos said sticks with him. Lando will need someone there.

Why would Lando need someone there? There where? Or is it there when? Maybe it's nothing. Maybe he meant to have someone in McLaren. He has an odd feeling about this.

Or perhaps Oscar is overthinking something simple.

-

It is not until he boards the plane to Abu Dhabi for the season's final race a week later that the strange feeling becomes clear.

That’s a thing with gut feelings; they will always be answered, whether you want them to or not. It comes unannounced, stays, and stalks you, and then it is answered, and you are left with the answer, unsure of what to do with it. Oh, how Oscar wishes this particular gut feeling wasn’t answered. Especially with this answer.

[runa-falls]

I'M DOING A COLLAB WITH MY FAVORITE PERSON @leoluved !! we came up with so many good prompts + need a little help choosing! vote what you'd like to read (or add/comment in the tags!)

this'll be up for a week + if there's a tie, we can do another one after!

[tooxmanyxships]

“ no one will notice if we hold hands under the table ~ ” loscar?

Have some fluffy rookies moment

Oscar looked at himself for the umpteenth time and sighed.

His hair was doing whatever it was always doing and he just couldn't let it do anything else.

It would just have to do. It's not like he was vain or anything anyway.

But... compared to Logan's (American fratboy) good looks, he always felt like he faded out a little bit. He didn't know why.

Maybe it was just his own insecurities talking too loud.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a knock on his door and he quickly abandoned the treacherous mirror to let the person into his hotel room.

He already knew who it was anyway.

Logan is standing on the other side of the door.

Oscar didn't know that a person just standing somewhere could be so breathtaking, but apparently Logan just was an exception.

Logan's smile falters a little when Oscar doesn't even greet him.

"Oscar. You okay?"

Oscar shakes his head to get his thoughts back together and finally smiles at his friend.

"Yeah. Sorry. I'm all good."

Logan raised his eyebrow, but let it go.

"You ready to go?"

Oscar wasn't sure why he was invited to this dinner with Alex and George. If it had been Alex and Lando it would have been more understandable but oh well.

It still was like a dinner between 2 teammates and their best friends.

Still made sense.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Logan smiles and steps back to let Oscar out of his hotel room and lets him lock his door.

They walk side by side, just having random chat about racing and things they do when they get a break until they reach George's car, where the owner of the car and his best friend are already waiting for them.

The first thing Logan does as they reach them is tease Alex.

"Are you sure you're fine with George driving? Are you sure we'll survive?"

Oscar can't help but chuckle, while George rolls his eyes. Alex just plays along.

"Well, I figured that if it wasn't just me as the passenger, he might drive a little better."

George gives Alex a fake wounded look.

"Will you 3 just get inside the car. Now please."

Chuckling, Alex took the passenger's passenger's seat while the 2 rookies got into the back.

The ride over to the restaurant wasn't long and was mostly filled with idle talk and teasing George about his driving style.

Once at the restaurant, George took over the talking to the maitre, and they were escorted to an exclusive place in the back.

Alex took a seat next to George, while Logan shuffled into the booth next to Oscar on the other side of the table.

While they were sitting there, waiting on the menus and making small talk, Logan could feel Oscar's leg start bouncing under the table.

Without a word, he gently placed his hand on his friend's knee. He saw Oscar glance at him and gave his knee a little squeeze before pulling his hand back.

As much as Oscar gives off the 'unbothered king' vibes, Logan knows him better. He knows how nervous and awkward the Australian can get in these settings, when he's not completely comfortable.

Logan is at an advantage here. It's with his teammate, and he's had some chats with George as well, but for Oscar it's a little different.

He feels Oscar's leg start bouncing again when they're all looking at the menu, he bumps his own leg against his.

When Oscar's leg hits the table in surprise, Logan takes the blame and apologizes. He can see Oscar shooting him a questioning look that he ignores.

George and Alex seem blissfully unaware of everything, or putting up a great act. Probably the latter, which Logan is grateful for.

He's seen the way Alex and George act around each other. They know what it's like to put up an act.

So does he.

When George gets too messy with his food and Alex, without thinking, reaches out with a napkin to wipe away something on the corner of George's mouth, Logan catches Oscar ducking his head and blushing.

Soon enough, his leg starts bouncing again out of nervous energy and Logan places his hand on top of it once again.

Oscar tries to brush his hand off, but all he achieves with that is Logan grabbing onto his hand instead, twining their fingers together.

Oscar's face whips towards him, a look of almost horror on his face and Logan leans in closer.

For a second it looks like they're gonna kiss and Oscar can't move. As much as he'd love to move away, he's frozen in place.

But Logan doesn't kiss him. His mouth going to his ears instead of his lips. Whispered words coming from his mouth.

"No one will notice if we hold hands under the table."

Logan pulls back and squeezes Oscar's hand. Oscar blushes, but doesn't let go. Not even when the waiter comes to collect their empty plates.

Looking across the table, Logan sees George grin and Alex wink at him. Oscar is doing his best not to look at any of them.

But when he feels the Australian squeeze his hand back under the table, his leg now kept perfectly still too, it's all he really needed.