#osc fanfic

[dr-fizzovich]

i keep forgetting to write this down and i am doing it now in the most inappropriate and unacceptable timing

So uh.

the A Mother's Devotion canon and my own silly little fanon are two completely different canons/fanons

so Cabbie and Cupboard are not present in my own fanon, they are only canon in A Mother's Devotion :3

hope i made this clear for yall fans of a mother's devotion. And oops, i keep forgetting to post how Cabbie and Cupboard look like. So i will just say, Cabbie is just. Cabby with a gray tint. And Cupboard is a black cupboard with 3 drawers. Hope i made this clear ^_^

[gnomiwizard]

I've written a new Fanfic!

I rewatched an old cancelled show (Show's Over), got inspired by it, and just had to write it!

I'm very proud of it so far :)

[pebiejeebies]

THE FIRST CHAPTER IS OUT!!

@ch0cocrave @moonsprout-sys @scrollinonhere @thatonesalmonlingnamedspike

(Sry for tag but since you guys were interested I wanted to let y’all know I posted it :D)

THIS WAS SO TIRING BUT SO FUN!! I HAD TO REWRITE SO MUCH THINGS THOU SHHDBEBWGGRGE

[sasterisk]

Chapter +25+ of BURST is published

Eat up babes, finally resolving a cliffhanger after 11 months yippee

Wattpad Link | AO3 Link

Enjoy!!! :)

[bfdi-shapeshifter-au]

Hi guys! Welcome to the Shapeshifter AU for BFDI

Here are what the casts animal forms are going to be:

Blocky-Bull

Bubble-Octopus

Coiny- Cheetah

David- Cow

Eraser-Sloth

Firey-Echidna

Flower-Snake

Golf Ball- Rat

Ice Cube-Wolf

Leafy- Macaw

Match- Squirrel

Needle- Giraffe

Pen- Fox

Pencil- Mole

Pin- Rhino

Rocky- Goat

Snowball- Polar Bear

Spongy- Whale

Teardrop- Shark

Tennis Ball- Elephant

Woody- Bunny

(All the characters will be human)

[mrsfancyferrari]

My Husband

Summary: when you accidently called Oscar your husband, you didn't think it would affect him that much

Song: Haunted · Beyoncé

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

Word count: 2.3k

MASTERLIST - F1

The quaint little bakery was a warm embrace of aromatic comfort, the scent of fresh bread and sugar-coated pastries dancing in the air as the bell above the door chimed, announcing the presence of a customer.

You stepped inside, the chilly autumn breeze kissing your cheeks before you shut the door. Oscar, your devoted boyfriend, followed closely, his eyes never leaving yours, as if the words you had just spoken had branded themselves into his soul.

You approached the counter, where Mrs. Petunia, the plump, grandmotherly figure who had known you since childhood, was carefully arranging a tray of her famous Tim Tams.

She looked up and beamed at you, her kind eyes twinkling with recognition. "Ah, my dear, what can I get for you today?"

Without missing a beat, you replied, "Oh, Mrs. Petunia, me and my husband love Tim Tams. Could we have a dozen, please?"

The words slipped out of your mouth as easily as honey off a spoon, and yet, they seemed to hang in the air, thick and potent, charged with an unspoken electricity.

Oscar's eyes grew wide, and a blush bloomed on his cheeks that would have put a summer sunset to shame. His heart skipped a beat, and his throat tightened with a mix of shock and excitement.

You hadn't meant to say it, but there it was, hanging between the two of you like a ripe fruit, begging to be plucked and tasted.

Mrs. Petunia looked from you to Oscar and back again, her gaze lingering on his flustered expression before she winked mischievously.

"Of course, dear," she said, her voice a gentle purr. "Congratulations to you both. I'll have your Tim Tams ready in a jiffy."

The silence that followed was a symphony of unspoken desires and unanswered questions. The air grew thick with tension as Oscar's hand found yours, his grip firm yet trembling.

The warmth of his skin against yours sent a thrill down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel the sudden urgency of his touch.

As the baker's hands moved deftly behind the counter, wrapping your sweet treats in a paper bag with a flourish, Oscar leaned in, his breath a whisper of heat against your ear.

"Did you mean it?" he asked, his voice a mix of hope and apprehension. "Did you really mean to call me your husband?"

You turned to face him, the warmth from his body seeping into yours, and took a moment to study his features. The way his eyes searched yours for an answer, the way his Adam's apple bobbed with a hard swallow, it was all so… intoxicating.

You bit your bottom lip, feeling the heat of his gaze on your skin, and let the moment linger before finally speaking.

"It… it just slipped out," you murmured, trying to downplay the significance of your words. But even as you said them, you felt a thrill in your chest, a spark of something new and deliciously tempting.

Oscar's grip on your hand tightened, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your palm. "But do you?" he pressed, his voice low and earnest. "Do you… see me as your husband?" His eyes searched yours, a silent plea for honesty that you found impossible to resist.

Before you could answer, Mrs. Petunia shuffled back to the counter with your order, her knowing smile as sweet as the sugary confection she placed in the bag.

"Here you go, lovebirds," she said, her eyes twinkling. "And just for the newlyweds," she added with a wink, "a little something extra." She slipped a small, heart-shaped cookie into the bag, and you felt Oscar's pulse quicken against your fingertips.

The weight of the moment pressed down on you, thick and heavy as the scent of freshly baked bread. His question hung in the air, a silent echo of the words you hadn't meant to say. Yet, as you looked into his eyes, you realized that you didn't want to take them back.

The thought of him as your husband, a partner in every sense of the word, filled you with a warmth that spread from your core to your fingertips.

"Thank you, Mrs. Petunia," you said, your voice a bit shaky as you took the bag of Tim Tams from her outstretched hand. The touch of the paper bag against your skin was a sudden reminder of the real world, and you forced a smile as you slid the question to the back of your mind.

The idea of a future with Oscar was both thrilling and terrifying, and you weren't quite ready to tackle it in the middle of a bustling bakery.

You turned to leave, eager to escape the intensity of Oscar's gaze, but he held fast to your hand, refusing to let you pull away. "We need to talk," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. "But not here."

With a nod of understanding, you allowed him to lead you out the door and into the cool, crisp air. The wind played with your hair as you walked in silence, the crackle of leaves underfoot a stark contrast to the chaotic symphony of emotions in your chest.

The thought of the impromptu family gathering at the restaurant was a welcome one; it meant you had more time to figure out what you truly felt about the prospect of marriage.

When you arrived at the cozy Italian restaurant, the warmth from within enveloped you like a comforting blanket. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce mingled with the laughter of those already gathered, and the sight of your friends and family was a much-needed distraction.

You slipped into the role of the happy couple with Oscar by your side, his hand resting gently on the small of your back as you greeted everyone with pecks on the cheek and warm hugs.

Throughout dinner, the question remained unspoken, a silent third wheel to your conversations. You felt Oscar's eyes on you, the question lingering in the air like the scent of fresh bread from the bakery.

Yet, with every shared laugh and knowing glance, the idea grew more and more appealing. The way your family and friends interacted with the two of you, as if you were already a married couple, filled you with a sense of belonging and love that was undeniable.

As the evening grew late and the last of your relatives said their goodbyes, the tension between you and Oscar grew palpable. The warmth from his hand on your lower back had long ago seeped through your clothes, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

With each farewell, the reality of what you had said in the bakery grew heavier, a delicious weight that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Finally, it was just the two of you, the night air a crisp reminder of the world outside your bubble of uncertainty. The walk to his car was a silent dance of anticipation, your hearts beating in time with every step you took closer to the truth.

The cool metal of the car door handle was a stark contrast to the heat of your skin as you climbed inside, the leather seats a promise of the comfort and security you had found in each other's arms so many times before.

Oscar started the engine, and the low purr filled the car, a gentle hum that seemed to vibrate through your very core. As he pulled away from the curb, the headlights painted a yellow path on the dark road ahead, leading you to the house you shared, the place where so many of your memories had been made.

You watched the streetlights flicker past, their light casting shadows across Oscar's features that highlighted the strong line of his jaw and the intensity in his gaze as he focused on the road.

The journey to the house was a blur of unspoken confessions and unanswered questions, the vibrations of the car a rhythmic serenade that seemed to underscore the urgency of the moment.

His hand found yours again, fingers intertwining as if to hold onto the very essence of your being. The touch sent waves of sensation through your body, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that had grown stronger with every shared look and whispered promise.

When you finally pulled into the driveway, the house was bathed in a soft glow, welcoming you home with open arms.

The door clicked shut behind you, the sound echoing through the stillness like a gunshot, shattering the last vestiges of your ability to ignore the conversation that needed to be had.

But Oscar didn't give you the chance to retreat into the safety of mundane small talk or the comfort of the couch. He dropped his bags with a thud that reverberated through the floorboards, and in the blink of an eye, he was on you.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against his chest, his body a wall of heat and need that made your knees wobble.

His mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear, his breath hot and demanding as he whispered, "Tell me the truth. Did you mean it?"

You gasped as his teeth grazed your earlobe, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart was a wild animal, caged and desperate to break free, hammering against your ribs in a frantic rhythm.

Your breathing grew shallow, every intake of breath a silent admission of the desire that had been simmering just below the surface all evening.

He turned you to face him, his hands sliding up to cradle your cheeks. His thumbs brushed over your cheekbones, and you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering closed as you felt the warmth of his palms against your skin.

"Look at me," he demanded softly, and you obeyed, opening your eyes to find his gaze searing into yours. "Do you see me as your husband?"

The word hung in the air, a declaration of love and commitment that made your heart ache. You searched his eyes, the depths of his soul laid bare for you to see, and you knew that you didn't need to say the words aloud.

Your body was already speaking for you, your pulse racing, your breath catching in your throat.

With a groan, Oscar leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both fierce and tender. His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting and exploring as if he hadn't kissed you a thousand times before.

Your arms wound around his neck, pulling him closer, your body arching towards his as if drawn by a magnetic force. His hands slid down to the small of your back, pressing you against him, the evidence of his arousal a stark reminder of the passion that burned between you.

The kiss grew deeper, more urgent, as the tension that had been building all evening finally snapped. Your hands roamed his body, tracing the contours of his muscles beneath his shirt, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against your palm.

His own hands found their way to the hem of your dress, inching it upward until he could feel the warmth of your skin, the softness of your thighs.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you both panted, trying to catch your breath. "I need to hear you say it," he whispered, his voice hoarse with emotion. "Do you see a future with me?"

You nodded, the words caught in your throat, the weight of the moment too much to bear. "Yes," you finally managed to croak out, the word a declaration, a promise, a surrender all rolled into one.

And with that, Oscar's control snapped. He swept you off your feet, carrying you with ease up the stairs and into the bedroom that had been the stage for so many of your passionate encounters.

The room was a blur as he laid you on the bed, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, his hands working to free you from the confines of your dress.

As the fabric slid away, revealing the soft curves of your body, he whispered, "I can't wait to be your husband," the words a fervent promise that seemed to resonate within your very soul.

His eyes devoured every inch of your exposed skin, the hunger in them making you feel like the most desired woman in the world.

You reached up to trace his jawline, feeling the stubble that had grown over the course of the day. Your touch was tender, a silent acknowledgment of the gravity of what was happening between you.

"Oscar," you breathed, his name a prayer on your lips.

He hovered over you, his eyes searching yours as if looking for the tiniest semblance of doubt. Finding none, he claimed your mouth again, his kiss a declaration of his love and intentions.

Oscar's hands trailed down your body, his fingertips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He reached the hem of your dress, his touch gentle yet insistent as he began to peel it off.

The fabric whispered against your skin, the coolness of the room a stark contrast to the heat of his gaze.

As you lay before him, bare and exposed, he leaned in and murmured into your ear, his breath a hot caress that sent shivers down your spine.

"I won't apologize for marking you up," he said, the words a dark promise that sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. "Everyone should know you're going to be married to me."

His teeth grazed the sensitive lobe, eliciting a gasp that was swallowed by the fabric of the pillow beneath your head. . . .

[briefkittenearthquake]

don’t talk to me i’m sobbing over my oscariño in the grass and salvaging a few points

(MY SHAYLAAAAAA 😭😭😭)

[fortunapre]

𝐖𝐡at Happens 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐬… | 𝐎𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢

SUMMARY★ the internet gets suspicious after Oscar Piastri’s childhood best friend shows up to the USA GP after swearing off races a year ago…

(multiple face claims)

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y/nusername home sweet home *read in southern mama accent*

View comments⇩

oscarpiastri: hey! no way i’m going to be there too what a coincidence!

➜ y/nusername: its not a coincidence im stalking you

➜ oscarpiastri: 😀 what.

y/nbff: tell me you’re joking

➜ y/nusername: lemme tell you something... LEMME TELL YOU SUMTHING!

user1234: why does @y/nbff sound mad? Did she not tell her bsf or something?

➜ user999: don’t quote me on this but i’m pretty sure it has to do with the drama about y/n and her ex.

➜ user 1234: wait what?!? Im new what is that???

➜ f1updatesfans: well like i think 2 years ago y/n was seen around with this guy while she was in Austin (her home town) for the USA race.

➜ f1updatesfans: Then suddenly he like disappeared and y/n didn’t go to another race since. but now apparently she’s going to this one??? it’s all very speculative but yeah.

➜ user1234: ok but what does y/n have to do with formula one? Wait was she dating a driver?

➜ f1updatesfans: No! I dont think so... And shes Oscar’s friend I think. Best friend.

imessages- y/n's POV

Once y/n got off of the plane and through the gate, she stood waiting for Oscar. Considering he was already in town for the race, he had no problem coming to get her. They were best friends after all.

y/n had a hand on her suitcase and leaned against a pillar. She looked worn out and utterly tired. Her eye bags could practically be called carry-on luggage. She rested her head on the wall and scrolled through her contacts before choosing Oscar's name.

Her phone only rang once before Oscar's voice answered from the other side.

"Hey, y/n." He said in his signature sweet tone that always made y/n smile. The corner of her mouth lifted at his voice while she closed her eyes. Maybe tired was an understatement.

She was exhausted. Usually she just sleeps on planes, but for the whole 6-hour trip she never dozed off. The closest she got was simply closing her eyes.

She couldn't sleep. Not when she was so worried about what would happen once she landed.

"Yeah, hey Oscar." she murmured, and let out a long yawn. "My gate is A6." She held her phone between her shoulder and cheek while she tried to fish out her wallet from her purse.

"You good? You sound tired. Or sad. I can't really tell over the phone." Oscar spoke through the speaker pressed up against her ear.

"Yes, I'm fine..." Once she found her wallet, she pulled out cash to buy something to drink at the mini market across from her gate.

"Oh, I see you! Stop walking I'm coming to your right now." Oscar said quickly. Y/n looked around her, trying to find him. Eventually, she spotted his familiar smile.

They both hung up the phone as Oscar got closer. He was smiling at her, almost smirking really. When he stood next to her, he took a moment to look at her state, no doubt remembering it to make fun of later.

Y/n smiled back and then continued walking to the minimarket, with Oscar alongside her.

Once she got her water, they both started walking towards the exit.

"Here, I can take this." Oscar stopped y/n and put his hand on top of her hand which was holding her suitcase. His touch felt familiar and warm. His hands always felt rougher than they looked, but y/n felt comfort in knowing it was Oscar. At first, she didn't speak.

She was too busy staring at their hands because something different was happening.

She felt different. Suddenly, she wanted his hand to never leave. She wanted his hand to grab hers and lace their fingers. She wanted his hand to touch her more.

She shook her head and looked away from their hands. She must be really tired, and sleep deprived.

Instead of agreeing verbally, y/n just let go, suddenly conscious of Oscar's burning touch, and nodded, letting him take her suitcase.

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ynusername airport fit check

photo credits: lando norris’s teammate, i think?

View comments ⇩

oscarpiastri shut up

landonorris *my future boyfriend

➜ ynusername LANDO WHAT! is this a hard launch for you two???? wdym your bf

➜ landonorris WAIT HAHA NO I MEANT MY AS IT YOURS

➜ landonorris I WAS CORRECTING YOU AS YOU

➜ landonorris WAIT DONT

➜ landonorris i’m deleting this.

comment and thread deleted

comments on this post are limited

imessages- oscar's POV

twitter

imessage- oscar's POV

"Who are you texting?" Y/n asked casually, wanting to start conversation. She sat comfortable in a sofa across from him. Originally, they were both laying down on the sofa's facing each other, a table in the middle.

But once Oscar got the first message, he sat up quickly.

At one point y/n caught him looking at her, with the most confused face she's seen on him, but he just went back to typing.

"What?" His head shot up from his phone, and his eyes got wide.

"I asked who you were texting." She replied. Y/n sat up slowly, matching him and then leaned in, with her elbows on her knees, hands clasped together.

"Oh. um. no one. Just Lando"

"Oh ok." This conversation was just making her more bored, and she wanted to talk to Oscar. There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. "What about?"

"Hmm?" Oscar seemed extremely distracted.

"What about?"

Instead of answering, he ran a hand through his hair and looked down. Y/n was going to ask what was wrong but he suddenly stood up and walked around the sofa.

He was still silent, and he changed positions to now stand behind the sofa and leaned on back, arm folded, facing away from her.

"Osc-" Y/n was going to ask why he was so distracted, but he cut her off.

He turned around, now looking her in the eye. "y/n can I ask you something?"

Now y/n was worried, because what could be on his mind that he needed to ask her about.

"Of course, Osc"

Oscar looked at her as she waited for his question. Like really looked at her. She was wearing Mclaren merch with his number on the back of course. She looked gorgeous. The realization made Oscar run a hand through his hair again, no doubt messing it up this time.

"It's kind of personal, y/n. I understand why you haven't said anything about it before. It's your personal life and I want you to know that i understand."

"Oscar what-"

"Is your ex in Austin?"

Y/n was surprised to say the least. She knew that questions about her past relationship would come up, but Oscar asking was surprising. She told him last year about how her ex broke up with her.

She was devastated. He had broken up with her over the phone, on the way back from last year's Austin Grand Prix. His reasons were stupid, and his apologies sounded incredibly forced.

She immediately called Oscar and told him everything. Well, everything except from his name. Oscar can be protective when it comes to y/n, so she kept her ex's name secret. It sounds stupid now that she thinks about it because even if Oscar did get mad, he would never do anything Y/n didn't like.

"Yeah. He's here, in Austin, but I haven't talked to him at all. You know what he did, and I want nothing to do with him." Y/n didn't know why she was trying to explain herself so much. She felt like she needed to make it known that there was nothing between her and her ex anymore. What this had to do with Oscar? she didn't know.

He nodded and walked towards her. They both sat next to each other on the small sofa while Oscar overthought everything.

"You want nothing to do with him? like at all? because Lando was making me think that you were possibly here to get back together with him..." He needed to know for sure.

"What? Oscar not of course. Why would Lando think that?"

"I don't know." he was going to run a hand through his hair for the third time, but y/n grabbed his wrist instead. She held his hand softly and intertwined their fingers.

Oscar felt relieved. Y/n was probably wondering why Oscar had so many sudden questions about her love life, but neither of them brought up the suddenness of the conversation. They instead sat close together; hands intertwined, hoping that the other couldn't tell how fast their heart is beating at the they're simple touch.

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oscarpiastri new merch that even I'd wear (it's a white shirt, get it?)

view comments ⇩

ynusername cool now I have another shirt i can steal

➜ oscarpiastri get your own! https://mclaren.com

➜ oscarpiastri hope this helps!

➜ ynusername you're going to give it to me anyways I know it

➜ oscarpiastri probably...

landonorris @.ynusername where have you beeeeeen I haven't seen you all weekend

➜ ynusername clearing my calendar for you right now!

➜ landonorris tell oscar to stop keeping you to himself!!!

➜ oscarpiastri no go away

➜ landonorris *cough* jealous *cough*

➜ oscarpiastri 😐 that’s enough

Twitter

2 days later, and neither Y/n nor Oscar had made any progress on acknowledging their feelings. Even the internet and gossip columns knew more about it then each other.

a/n:

just a small smau i wanted to try. i’ve never done one of these types of stories, so sorry if its bad or confusing!

(PART 2 HERE)

[lexiegreynorris]

lando norris x gf!reader texts

⭐ just daily conversations with lando

⭐ pure fluff (with osc as a surprise guest!)

AN: i hope y'all enjoy it! also i might start formatting my blogs like this hehehe

lexiegreynorris ©

[81pastrys]

Lights out (literally)

Summary— Oscars little girl hates the dark, so when they all of a sudden disappear from the paddock…

Warnings— none

A/N— I’m thinking of Oscar is a bit older here, considering the toddlers age. Tiny bit of Landoscar. Uncle LaLa.

Dad Oscar List

Oscars little girl was quite the character. Pretty independent and kept to herself, well as much as a 3-year-old can. When she was in the paddock it was hard to keep an eye on her. She was shy, quiet, and closed off.

She enjoyed her time with Lando while her dad was on track for way too long she’d say. She ate snacks, had a nap, and was generally bored. There’s not much she can even do at the paddock.

However when all the lights shut off, she’s suddenly easier to pinpoint. Considering she screamed bloody murder. She had a fear of the dark, Oscar knew this, her mum knew this, hell even Lando knew it.

Oscar was near and scooped her up quickly, wrapping her little arms around him as her cries were still heard around the McLaren garage. “It’s okay! Look everyone has flashlights.” Oscar said softly to her. Her tears seeped through his fireproof. She sniffled as the dimmer lights floated around. “I know it was scary.” He reassured her fear was not overlooked in any way.

When the lights fully returned, she had calmed down. Lando was now in the garage from the red flag dished out. “You okay munchkin?” Lando asked the little girl. She nodded her head at him and he smiled. “I have to go look cool on track, are you gonna watch?” He asked.

She looked to her dad and he smiled at her, encouraging her to talk. “Good luck uncle lala!” She said. The boys both melt and she cowers into Oscar’s shoulder. Lando lightly pinched her cheek and got ready to go back out. Oscar wondered around the garage a bit before deciding his next move.

“Let’s go find mama.” Oscar says. He walks around hospitality ultimately running into his wife. “There she is!” He exclaimed when he noticed her. He released the little girl reaching.

“There’s my angel!” She said. “I heard the lights went out.” Looking to Oscar for confirmation, in which he nodded. Their daughter cowered again, this time in her mums embrace. “I’m sorry angel.” She had a business meeting and had to miss Oscar testing, hence why she’s just appeared.

“Gave the garage a fright when they went out.” Oscar chuckled nervously. “She was so brave after she realized flashlights exist, huh?” He tried to get her reaction. He playfully pinched her side, tickling her. She giggled and looked at him.

I feel like Oscar’s little girl would be named Mila 🩷

[antisocialmedia-asm]

I know exactly who sent this ask

I'm watching you

people REALLY should read Battle For Dream Island But Non-Canon by @antisocialmedia-asm , especially if you like longfics and angst and really good mysteries and lore and writing and want to see the bfdi contestants (especially the more underrated ones) expanded beyond just being a silly bfdi character AND if you want to see some of the TPOT rcs compete and have personalities and characters of their own

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33505234/chapters/84110842

idk guys its just a really good read and the guy who wrote it is like incredibly cool so maybe give it a shot

.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

“When You Fall Apart”

oscar x wife reader will forever have my heart 💗 especially protective osc

The morning light poured softly through the curtains, and the house felt too quiet. The children were playing, their laughter echoing through the halls, oblivious to the storm of exhaustion and illness brewing within their mother. You sat at the kitchen table, the mug of cold coffee untouched in front of you, your hands trembling as you forced yourself to keep moving. Breakfast needed to be made, the laundry folded, the house cleaned — there was always something that needed doing.

You had barely noticed how bad you were feeling. The constant cycle of feeding, cleaning, and tending to your kids had consumed every ounce of energy you had left. You hadn’t had a moment to think about yourself, and you certainly hadn’t told Oscar. He was away at a race, doing what he loved, and you didn’t want to worry him. After all, you were supposed to be strong — for him, for the kids. He couldn’t know you were falling apart.

But your body was protesting. You hadn’t been sleeping, hadn’t been eating right. The aches in your muscles had become constant, the dizziness unrelenting. You felt a fever creeping up, but you told yourself it wasn’t important. You didn’t need rest. The kids needed you, and Oscar would be home soon enough.

By the time Oscar finally returned, things had spiraled out of control. He was greeted by the kids’ excited chatter, but his smile faltered when he noticed the way you were standing in the hallway, pale, your movements slow and deliberate. There were bags under your eyes, and your usual warmth was dimmed by the exhaustion written all over your face. But it wasn’t just that. Oscar’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took you in. Your clothes hung loosely, the fabric sagging in places where it used to fit just right. He could see it clearly now: you had lost weight. A lot of it. The hollowed-out look in your cheeks, the way your clothes seemed to swallow you—he couldn’t ignore it.

“Hey, babe,” Oscar called, his voice light, but there was concern creeping into his tone. He put down his bag and stepped closer. “You okay?”

You forced a smile, waving him off. “Yeah, just tired. You know how it is.”

But Oscar wasn’t convinced. He took in the way your shoulders slumped, how you swayed slightly on your feet. Before you could protest, he reached out, his hand brushing against your forehead. His brow furrowed immediately, his fingers pressing gently against your skin.

“You’re burning up,” he said softly, his voice a little more strained now. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to worry you,” you mumbled, your words barely audible as you tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let you.

Oscar looked at you, his eyes dark with concern and something deeper — frustration, maybe guilt. He had been away, living his dream, while you had been here, taking on everything alone. He should’ve called, checked in more often. You had never once complained, always putting the kids and him first. But now, as he watched you tremble in front of him, he could see how much you’d been neglecting yourself. And now, with the physical evidence of your weight loss staring him in the face, the guilt hit harder. He hadn’t seen you this way when he left. His chest tightened.

“You should have told me,” he repeated, his voice now softer but no less urgent. “You’ve been doing everything for the kids while I’ve been away. Let me take care of you for once.”

But you didn’t feel worthy of his care, not when there were still so many things to do. The house was a mess, the kids needed dinner, there was laundry to fold. The list of things to do was endless, and you couldn’t let go.

“I’m fine, Oscar. Really,” you tried again, your voice weak.

“No, you’re not.” He wasn’t having it. Oscar’s hands were on your shoulders now, his touch firm but gentle. “You’re not fine, and I’m not letting you get worse. You’re going to rest, and I’m going to take care of everything else.”

His words were a command, but there was no harshness in them — only love and concern. The way he looked at you, the warmth in his eyes, it made you want to crumble, to finally let go of the weight you had been carrying for so long.

Oscar guided you to the couch, tucking a blanket around you. The kids, sensing the shift in the atmosphere, were quieter now, their bright faces filled with curiosity as they asked questions. But Oscar simply smiled at them and told them everything was okay. They would have to share him for a while, but he promised he’d make it up to them.

For the first time in days, you allowed yourself to close your eyes. The ache in your body, the pressure on your chest, it all started to ebb away just a little. Oscar was here, and he was going to make sure you were okay.

Later that night, after the kids had been tucked into bed, Oscar came back to you. He sat down beside you on the couch, his hand finding yours in the quiet darkness. His fingers laced with yours, a simple, intimate gesture, but it felt like the world.

“You should’ve told me, love,” he whispered, his thumb gently rubbing over the back of your hand. “I can’t do this without you, you know. You’re my world.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you fought them back, embarrassed at how easily you broke in front of him. But Oscar simply pulled you into his arms, holding you close. His warmth enveloped you, and you realized just how much you had needed this — his embrace, his tenderness, his love.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Oscar kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there. “Don’t apologize. I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. Just let me take care of you.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but this time, it wasn’t from pain or exhaustion. It was from the overwhelming relief of knowing you didn’t have to carry it all by yourself anymore.

“I love you,” you whispered.

Oscar’s voice was soft, a promise wrapped in tenderness. “I love you too. And I’m going to make sure you’re okay.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself believe it.

[mary-op81]

Can I have one strawberry buttercream raspberry cake served by Oscar piastri

papa piastri pt2

warnings: MATURE CONTENT MINORS DNI

yourusername

yourusername oh how i love my little family 🧡

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user55 FAMILY GOALS

kellypiquet mila and p need to have another play date soon p misses her and i miss you 😢

↪️ yourusername i miss you too and mila misses p

↪️ yourusername her and alan also miss their aunty kelly and uncle max

↪️ kellypiquet AWWW me and max miss them too

oscarpiastri my little family 🧡

↪️yourusername 🧡🧡🧡🧡

lando do they miss their favorite uncle????

↪️ logansargeant i fear i am the favorite uncle i mean i am their godfather

↪️ oscarpiastri yes you should both come over for dinner tomorrow night

↪️ lando OFC

↪️ logansargeant 🏎️💨💨💨💨💨💨💨

nicolepiastri are you guys coming to melbourne anytime soon?

↪️ yourusername we’re working on it maybe over summer break!

mclaren our favorite race day cheerleaders 🧡

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yourusername

yourusername little piastri 3.0 incoming

comments are limited for this post

oscarpiastri 🧡🧡

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yourusername

yourusername apparently we made twins? please welcome to the world Jack and Claire Piastri

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oscarpiastri i finally got mini oscars instead of mini y/ns 💪

lando congrats guys

user47 OMG THWY ARE SO CUTE

logansargeant i better be godfather

↪️ yourusername maybe ����

user78 I JUST KNOW ALAN IS PISSED HES NOT THW YOUNGEST ANYMORE

↪️ yourusername you would be correct

user60 my heart 💜

↪️ yourusername wrong color heart 🧡*

oscarpiastri went from 4 to 6 in the matter of 4 hours

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a/n : i just know oscar would be the best dad. also thanks anon for the request. i was looking for an excuse to do a pt2 for papa piastri. thank you 🧡

[f1daydreamer]

Through Every Spin

You had always known that motorsport was unpredictable. No matter how skilled a driver was, one small mistake could change everything. But knowing that didn’t make it any easier when you saw Oscar’s car suddenly snap sideways, spinning in the middle of the race.

Your breath caught in your throat as the tires screeched against the asphalt, the car momentarily out of control. The seconds stretched unbearably long as you watched, hands gripping the pit wall tightly.

For a brief, terrifying moment, all you could think about was him.

Then, his voice crackled through the team radio. “I’m okay. I’m okay.”

Relief flooded your system so fast it nearly made you dizzy. He recovered the car, rejoined the race, and kept pushing until the checkered flag waved. But even as he finished in the points, you knew he wouldn’t be happy with himself.

—

After the race, you waited outside the McLaren motorhome, knowing exactly how Oscar would be feeling. He was his own biggest critic—if there was even the slightest mistake, he’d overanalyze it for hours.

When the door finally opened, he stepped out, still in his race suit, his expression unreadable. His gaze found yours instantly, and before he could say anything, you walked up and wrapped your arms around him.

“Hey,” you murmured softly.

He sighed, leaning into your embrace. “Hey.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “Rough race.”

“That’s one way to put it.” He exhaled heavily. “I had the pace for more, and then I just… lost the rear. One mistake, and it ruined everything.”

You frowned, reaching up to brush some hair from his forehead. “It didn’t ruin everything, Oscar. You kept going. You still finished in the points. That matters.”

He huffed a small, tired laugh. “You always know what to say to make me feel less like an idiot.”

“That’s because you’re not an idiot,” you said simply. “You’re just really hard on yourself.”

His lips pressed together, his arms tightening slightly around your waist. “I just hate messing up.”

You gave him a small smile and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. “You’re allowed to make mistakes. It doesn’t change the fact that you’re an amazing driver.”

For the first time since the race, some of the tension in his shoulders eased. He let out a breath, pulling you back into his arms and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Always.”

Before either of you could say anything else, a familiar voice called out.

“There you are! We were waiting for you.” It was his mother, smiling warmly as she walked over with his sister. “Come on, let’s go get some food. You both need it.”

Oscar glanced at you, a hint of amusement flickering in his tired eyes. “Guess we don’t have a choice.”

You grinned. “Nope. Besides, you’ll feel better after eating.”

With that, the four of you left the paddock together, the weight of the race slowly fading away as the conversation shifted to more lighthearted things. And as you sat next to Oscar at dinner, listening to his mother fuss over him and his sister teasing him about the spin, you realized—no matter what happened on track, he would always have people who loved and supported him.

And that was what really mattered.

-------------------

Author’s Note: I had this story unfinished in my drafts for a while, but today’s race made me complete it! Watching Oscar’s moment on track gave me the final push to finish this, and I just had to write about it.

- poor Oscar , swear I was about to cry, this reminds me of Charles Monaco "curse".

Like father like son 😭

[sasterisk]

Chapter +26+ of BURST is published!

yummy delicious yaoi teasing

Wattpad Link | AO3 Link

Enjoy!!! :)

[readwithsahana]

window seat ✭ OP81 ✭

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

On a train you don’t want to be on, to Melbourne you find yourself sitting in the aisle next to a charming young man, about to ask for the window seat…

warnings…none!

author’s note…Hi lovelies, i’m Sahana! nice to meet you all. This is my first fanfic on tumblr and i hope you guys like it!! Requests are open and i’ve got way too much free time so go for it 🤍!!

———————————————————————

You were walking on into a train that’ll take you from Queenscliff to Melbourne and you definitely didn’t want to be there. Truth be told, the only reason you came on this trip was because your company forced you to, for some boring conference. You’d rather be back at home doing anything but this but you had no choice.

The stale air in the station made you want to throw up, as it always does. The weight of your bag felt much heavier than yesterday, but that may just be the extra unenthusiam you were carrying.

As you stepped up from the station onto the train, the air-con hit you like a bitch.

“Why is it always so damn cold on these things?”

You muttered to yourself hating every second of this day already.

You looked at your ticket, for the 100th time today, hoping it was actually a Disneyland pass and you’d just seen it wrong…but of course, your life didn’t let anything nice happen to you.

“1B, 1B, 1B…”

You repeated quietly to yourself, as your eyes scanned the seat numbers written until you finally found yours.

It was the aisle…

You would have to be staring at someone’s bald head in front of you….

For 3 hours straight…

Fun.

You saw the guy sitting in the window seat on his phone. He looked young, probably not much older if not the same age as you. And he didn’t seem to be all that in love with the window seat. So…maybe he’d let you switch?

“Hey, excuse me?”

He looked up at you, his hazel brown eyes meeting yours. Oh…he’s cute.

You took a deep breath and began your plea.

“Do you mind if we switch seats? It’s no problem if you don’t want to, its up to you, its just if you wouldn’t mind sitting in the aisle, we ca-“

A small smile along with a soft chuckle appeared on his face as he heard you rambling on and on so he politely interrupted - you had secretly thanked him for, respectfully, shutting you the fuck up. It was starting to get long.

“Sure, go for it.”

You were a little surprised by how nicely he accepted…that wasn’t so hard. He got up and made way for you to sit inside, and then sat down in the aisle seat.

“Thanks for that.”

“Oh no problem, i’m not really one for window seats anyways.”

He smiled. You swore you felt butterflies for a second.

Theres a second of silence, but it surprisingly wasn’t awkward.

“I’m Oscar, by the way.” He smiled again. There was no doubt he was attractive, but his smile was something else…

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you. So, not a fan of windows? Or scenic views?”

Oscar can’t help but let out a soft chuckle at your humour. He catches himself subtly admiring your features…you were really beautiful. Not what he thought this train ride had in store for him, though he wasn’t complaining.

For Oscar, any travelling was just boring. As someone who travelled a lot, he got used to just tuning out the whole ride - If you ask him to name one trip he remembers, whether a train ride, flight, or car ride…he honestly couldn’t answer. To him, the destination became more important than the journey since nothing ever made the trip memorable.

“I’ve just grown up seeing all of Australia before, so I don’t find the need to see it through the window.”

He said, making up something more poetic, so that you wouldn’t think he was some cynic that hated seeing pretty views, since that obviously wasn’t true - he was enjoying looking at you.

You find yourself captivated by how he speaks. He’s calm and composed while saying the smartest of things - you’d never met someone like him before. And he’s good-looking? You had basically just won the lottery of strangers to sit next to.

From that point onwards, you both didn’t stop talking. Covered pretty much everything and anything. Oscar was usually a pretty reserved person, but for someone that he’d just met, he felt weirdly comfortable sharing a lot. He’d often find himself not even paying attention to your yapping, too focused on the way your eyes light up when you’re talking about something that excites you. Hell, he’s known you for less time than it takes to grill shrimp on the barbie but you’ve got him smiling uncontrollably.

———

“Actually, it’s my first time in Australia.”

You admit, still beguiled by how amazing this country is and why you haven’t come sooner.

“Oh, I better show you around some time then.”

Oscar smirks, hoping it’d be more true than a joke.

———

“How is football better than cricket?!”

He said, in disbelief, looking at you like you had just committed a crime.

“Cricket it just hours of men running with wood in their hands.”

“Football’s the same thing but with a ball?”

———

“Strawberries over Kiwis anyday.” Oscar was fully confident with his answer.

“Okay, you’re actually insane.” You say, shocked by the statement he’d just recited.

———

“The last stop is Melbourne. Please take all your belongings and mind the gap as you leave the train.”

The PA system announced, snapping you out of your dream-like experience with Oscar.

Just like that, 3 hours had passed by. You had forgotten the dead awful conference you had to attend, the shitty company you work for and how much you were supposed to hate today.

Oscar helped you with your bags as you both got off the train, a bittersweet feeling left hanging in the air.

“I guess this is goodbye…” The young Aussie said, his endearing smile seeming more than forced.

“Show me around, sometime?”

You had hoped this wasn’t going to be the last time you would meet Oscar, and by the way his eyes lit up when you offered, you guessed Oscar felt the same way.

As you both bid your goodbyes, and walk in opposite directions, both you and Oscar come to a realisation.

He had just been on a journey he would remember, thanks to you.

You didn’t even need the window seat to get through that ride, thanks to him.

You heard your phone ping in your pocket.

‘How does 7pm tomorrow sound?’

Maybe this trip wasn’t so bad after all…