warnings: fluffy beach day, teasing, sandy toes, sunshine, lots of soft moments
pairing: oscar piastri x female reader
a/n: so um im back?
by the time the two of you make it from the parking lot to the sand, oscar is carrying nearly everything.
the beach bag hangs from one shoulder. there's a cooler tucked beneath his arm, two towels thrown over the top of it, and an umbrella balanced awkwardly against his side. meanwhile, you're carrying a single tote bag that weighs next to nothing.
of course he's complaining.
something about how this was supposed to be a simple beach day and somehow turned into a full expedition.
something about how he's beginning to suspect you pack for every possible scenario.
something about how nobody should need this many snacks.
you stop listening halfway through.
not because he's being annoying.
mostly because you're busy smiling.
the thing about oscar is that he complains about things he secretly enjoys.
you figured that out months ago.
the exact timeline is blurry now.
all you know is that somewhere along the way, you learned how to translate him.
you learned that his dramatic sighs don't actually mean he's annoyed. you learned that whenever he claims he doesn't want to do something, there's a very good chance he'll end up enjoying it more than anyone else. you learned that his version of affection rarely looks the way people expect it to.
because oscar doesn't love loudly.
in ways that are easy to miss if you aren't paying attention.
and you've spent years paying attention.
the first thing he does after setting everything down is hand you a drink.
he doesn't ask if you're thirsty.
doesn't ask what you want.
the bottle is cold against your fingers when he passes it over.
exactly the brand you like.
exactly the flavor you always buy.
you don't even remember mentioning it the first time.
but somehow he remembers.
you've stopped being surprised by that kind of thing.
a long time ago, it would've caught you off guard. now it simply feels like oscar.
not birthdays and anniversaries.
everybody remembers those.
he remembers the weird stuff.
the things that shouldn't matter but somehow do.
he remembers that you hate tomatoes unless they're hidden inside something. he remembers that you always get cold in movie theaters. he remembers that whenever you're stressed, you start twisting the rings on your fingers without realizing it.
he remembers things you forget about yourself.
sometimes you think that's why you fell in love with him.
or maybe it's one of a thousand reasons.
it's hard to keep track these days.
the beach isn't particularly crowded.
there are families scattered near the shoreline, children racing through the water while exhausted parents watch from beach chairs. a group of teenagers are attempting to play volleyball several meters away. somewhere in the distance, music drifts through the warm afternoon air before disappearing beneath the sound of waves.
it's the kind of day people dream about in the middle of winter.
the sky is perfectly blue.
the breeze is just strong enough to keep the heat from becoming unbearable.
you sink onto your towel with a satisfied sigh.
oscar drops down beside you moments later.
for a while, neither of you do much.
he scrolls through his phone.
occasionally one of you points something out.
a child proudly carrying a shell larger than their hand.
someone losing a battle against an inflatable beach ball.
the conversation comes and goes naturally.
the kind that only exists between people who've spent enough time together to know there doesn't always need to be something to say.
every now and then, you catch yourself looking over at him.
he's stretched out beside you, sunglasses resting on his nose, one arm folded beneath his head.
the sunlight catches in his hair.
his expression is relaxed.
you don't think enough people realize how rare that is.
most of the world knows oscar as a racing driver.
they know the version that exists beneath bright lights and cameras.
the version constantly moving from one country to another.
the version surrounded by expectations.
the one who steals fries off your plate and insists they taste better than his.
the one who accidentally falls asleep halfway through movies.
the one who looks happiest when nobody is asking anything from him.
always your favorite version.
eventually, he notices you staring.
you immediately look away.
you hate that he finds this funny.
you hate that he knows exactly what he's doing.
and you hate that he looks entirely too pleased with himself because of it.
mostly, though, you hate how much you love him.
the decision to get into the water takes longer than it should.
mostly because you keep changing your mind.
the ocean looks inviting from a distance.
less inviting the closer you get.
oscar notices your hesitation immediately.
he doesn't say anything at first.
his grin appears instantly.
there's something deeply irritating about how well he knows you.
you haven't even spoken and somehow he already knows exactly what's happening inside your head.
eventually you walk into the water anyway.
mostly because you're determined not to give him the satisfaction of being right.
you regret everything immediately.
his laughter follows you across the shoreline.
later, after you've spent far longer in the ocean than originally intended, you're hit by a wave large enough to throw off your balance.
one second you're standing.
the next you're stumbling.
before you can react, a hand wraps around your arm.
the thing that gets you isn't the fact that he catches you.
it's how automatic it is.
like making sure you're okay is instinct at this point.
like it's something he does without even realizing it.
you've noticed that before.
the way he'll reach for your hand in crowded places.
the way he'll automatically move closer whenever you seem uncomfortable.
the way he always knows when you're tired before you do.
a quiet sort of care that exists beneath everything else.
his hand remains on your arm for a second longer than necessary.
your heart feels strangely full.
when the two of you return to your towels, you stretch out beneath the umbrella while the sun dries your hair.
for a few minutes, you simply listen to the waves.
the distant conversations.
the occasional cry of a seagull overhead.
then something lands lightly against your shoulder.
oscar is holding it out toward you.
his expression remains completely serious.
he lowers his sunglasses slightly.
just enough to look at you.
it's a look you've seen before.
a look that says he knows you're being stubborn.
unfortunately, he's usually right.
"last time you said that, you got sunburnt."
"you complained about it for four days."
the look he gives you says otherwise.
you know arguing is pointless.
eventually you take the sunscreen.
you're halfway through applying it when the bottle disappears from your hands.
without a word, he starts applying sunscreen to the places you'll inevitably miss.
that awkward spot between your shoulder blades.
you stare out toward the ocean while he works.
because looking at him suddenly feels impossible.
and yet something in your chest aches anyway.
because nobody talks about moments like this.
they talk about grand gestures.
they don't talk about someone remembering you always forget sunscreen.
they don't talk about someone quietly making sure you'll be comfortable tomorrow.
they don't talk about all the tiny ways love shows up.
but sitting there beneath the afternoon sun with oscar carefully making sure you won't burn, you think maybe those moments matter most.
by sunset, the beach has started to empty.
families pack up umbrellas.
children drag tired feet across the sand.
the sky slowly transforms into shades of pink and gold.
everything seems softer somehow.
you and oscar stay exactly where you are.
neither of you seems particularly interested in leaving.
his shoulder presses against yours.
the ocean stretches endlessly ahead.
for a while, neither of you speak.
the kind of silence built over years of knowing someone.
the kind that only exists when you've learned every version of a person and decided to love them all anyway.
you think about the version of oscar the world sees.
then you think about the version sitting beside you.
the one who remembers your favorite drink.
the one who notices when you're cold.
the one who catches you before you fall.
the one who loves you quietly.
the evening breeze arrives just as the sun begins disappearing beneath the horizon.
before you can say anything, his hoodie lands across your shoulders.
still carrying traces of sunscreen and saltwater and him.
you pull it tighter around yourself.
his smile appears immediately.
the kind of smile that never makes it into photographs.
the kind that belongs entirely to you.
when you look up, he's already watching you.
for a moment neither of you move.
the ocean continues rolling onto shore.
the sky burns gold and pink overhead.
everything else seems to disappear.
fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
lingering against your cheek.
you lean into the touch without thinking.
his expression softens even further.
familiar in the best possible way.
it tastes faintly of saltwater and sunshine.
of long afternoons and warm sand and every small moment that brought you here.
when he pulls away, it isn't far.
his forehead rests against yours.
and for a little while, the rest of the world simply ceases to matter.
and somehow, after all this time, that still feels like the luckiest thing that's ever happened to you.
© ccupcakqs. all work written by me. DO NOT PLAGIARISE!
plss comment any feedback 😭 it's been so long since i've written
