Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Reader
Tropes: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Academic Stress/Comfort, Meet-Cute Flashback.
Summary: You are convinced that you are a fraud. Oscar is convinced you are a genius. In the middle of a final-year spiraling episode involving cold tea and a dying cactus named Bernie, you make a solemn promise to your boyfriend that you will never, ever apply to work at the "circus" that is McLaren Racing. Naturally, the universe takes that as a challenge.
Word Count: 1.2K+
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 📼 masterlist. 🏎️ inbox.
It had been three years since you and Oscar started seeing each other. Things in the relationship were going great. What wasn’t going great, however, was the current state of your life.
It was 11:43 PM. Your shared apartment looked like a Staples had exploded inside a library. There were textbooks stacked in towers that defied the building code. There was a cactus named 'Bernie' on the windowsill that looked suspiciously brown. And there you were, vibrating on a frequency known only to hummingbirds and final-year engineering students.
You stared at your laptop screen. The cursor blinked, and it was clearly mocking you.
Subject: Application for Junior Aerodynamics Placement Attachment: Thesis_Final_Final_v3_REALLYFINAL.pdf
"I am a fraud," you announced to the empty room. "I am not an engineer. I am a disaster."
You deleted your cover letter for the fourth time, but your finger hovered over the backspace key. If you didn't get a placement, you didn't get the honors credits. If you didn't get the credits, you didn't graduate. If you didn't graduate, you’d have to move back home and fix your dad’s WiFi router for the rest of eternity.
The front door beeped.
You didn’t look up, because you knew who it was. Oscar. Your Oscar.
You still remembered it like it was yesterday. The day you first met.
Technically, it was a meet-cute, and it was Hattie’s fault, but it felt more like a meet-disaster. Three years ago, you were Hattie Piastri’s "genius engineering friend" who had tried to carry four iced lattes and a meter-long schematic tube across campus during a squall. You were soaked to the bone.
A sensible grey car had pulled up to the curb where you were fighting a losing battle against gravity and rain. The window rolled down, revealing a boy with messy hair and the face of someone who had never been stressed a day in his life.
"You have two hands," he observed, his voice dry. "And is that four coffees?"
"I am defying physics," you snapped back, hair plastered to your forehead. He looked bewildered by how someone this weird became friends with his sister. "Stop looking at me, or I’ll drop this on your feet."
He didn’t stop looking. Instead, he got out of the car with maddening calm and relieved you of the beverages. "Get in. Hattie says you’re spiraling. I’m inclined to agree."
You looked at the dry leather seats. You looked at the rain. Your better judgment had left the building hours ago, so you got in.
"I'm Oscar, by the way," he said. "I'm Y/N," you replied.
Three years later, you were no longer wet, but you were drowning.
A gym bag hit the floor with the weight of a dead body. "I can hear you overthinking from the elevator."
He walked into your peripheral vision, wearing a grey McLaren hoodie and looking disgustingly calm. He had that post-simulator look—hair flattened by headphones, eyes a little red, smelling faintly of expensive deodorant.
"I’m not overthinking," you mumbled, typing a sentence and immediately deleting it. "I’m spiraling. There’s a difference."
"Right." He walked over, plucked the empty mug of tea from beside your elbow, and frowned into it. "How long have you been sitting here?"
"Since you left."
"That was eight hours ago."
"Time is a construct."
Oscar didn't argue. He just sighed, set the mug down, spun your swivel chair around, and physically blocked you from the screen with his body. He stood between your knees, hands resting on the armrests of your chair, trapping you in a cage of 'Why does my girlfriend put me through so much?'
"Love," he said, looking down at you. "You look like you’re about to bite someone."
"I might," you threatened, rubbing your temples. "Twelve emails, Oscar. Radio silence. I’m staring into the void of unemployment. You'd better start driving faster, because my new five-year plan is just 'be a financial burden to a Formula 1 driver.’"
Oscar chuckled. "You’re not going to be unemployed." His hand came up, thumb brushing the smudge of ink off your cheekbone. "You’re the smartest person I know and, by the way, I know a guy who designs steering wheels with twenty-five buttons for a living."
"That guy is your coworker. He doesn't count." You slumped forward, resting your forehead against his stomach. The hoodie was warm and soft. "Not everyone has connections, Oscar. Some of us have to build the bridges, and right now, my bridge is collapsing."
You felt a low rumble in his chest as he laughed at you. His hand moved to the back of your neck, fingers massaging the tension knot at the base of your skull.
"Y/N, your thesis is brilliant," he said, his voice dropping to that serious, sincere tone he saved for radio messages and you. "I read the draft. The tire degradation model? It’s better than the stuff we use. Someone is going to hire you. You just have to stop deleting your applications before you hit send."
You sighed, closing your eyes. "I hate it when you’re rational. It’s annoying."
"I know. Come on." He pulled back, kissing your forehead. "I ordered Thai food. It’s here. Close the laptop."
"But—"
"Close it, or I’ll personally start eating the shrimp off your noodles."
You slammed the laptop shut. "You wouldn’t dare."
Oscar smirked, grabbing your hand to haul you up from the chair. "Thai food. Now."
As he dragged you toward the kitchen (and salvation in the form of Pad Thai), you squeezed his hand. "I actually applied to Red Bull today," you muttered, half-delirious from hunger. "And Mercedes."
Oscar stopped. He turned to look at you, one eyebrow raised. "Excuse me?"
"I was desperate! And Toto Wolff seems like a good boss."
"Traitor," he deadpanned. He opened the fridge and tossed you a water bottle. "I can’t believe I’m dating a spy. Toto would eat you alive. You’re too nice."
"I can be mean!"
"You talk to Bernie in the morning and apologize for forgetting to water him… he’s a plant, love." He leaned against the counter, cracking a smile. "But in all seriousness, apply wherever you want. Just... don't apply to McLaren."
You paused, chopsticks in hand. "Why? Scared I’ll look at your telemetry and realize you’re braking too early?"
"Ha ha." Oscar rolled his eyes, but he looked at you with a weird sort of fondness. "No. Because Zak is a salesman. You go in there wanting to be an engineer, and he’ll have you selling road cars in the showroom in a week. It’s a circus. You’re too good for the circus."
You laughed, digging into your noodles. "Fine. No McLaren. I promise. I’ll stick to the better teams then."
Oscar kissed the top of your head, stealing a piece of tofu from your box. "I’ll pretend you didn’t just try to insult the 2024 Constructor Champions."
You chewed your noodles, feeling the warmth of the apartment and the boy next to you finally settle your nerves. You had a sort of plan. You had Pad Thai. You had Oscar.
You had absolutely no idea that in exactly twelve hours, you were going to accidentally sign your soul away to the circus.
🟢 WHO I WRITE FOR:
87 | Oscar Piastri, 12 | Kimi Antonelli, 81 | Oliver Bearman.
(open to others, but not prioritized. let's see what happens!)
❌ WHAT I WON'T WRITE:
major character death (mcd), super sexual kinks, children/kid fics.
Could you do one where someone is asking where Nico is and Nico responds with some dramatics like fading away into the shadows or something and will is just like "yeah no he has a fever we're not coming" PLEASEEE THANK YOUUUU
HI ANON!! I love this so much. Writing nico as a dramatic baby? YES He's so baby girl on the inside. Hope this lives up to your standards.
are we ever gonna see the twt profiles of the background character demigods? (lou ellen, cecil, nyssa, katie, etc.) :3
Hi Anon! maybe in the future! But for now, I'm sticking with the seven + solangelo. It's quite hard to manage a lot of profiles at once since the type of fake tweets I do are semi scenario/imagines. But thanks, though! Maybe I'll change my mind soon.
I was in the middle of making Solangelo Rival Olympic Athletes AU when I saw a lot of Biphobia in tiktok recently. ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS??? JUST BECAUSE SOME BI ARTISTS ARE IN A HETERO RELATIONSHIP?? UGH This is so invalidating.
When you don't feel accepted enough with straight people and then you thought you finally have a community you can feel like yourself in BUT THEY INVALIDATE YOU AND MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE "YOU ARENT QUEER ENOUGH" FOR PRIDE? ICK!!!
I am a bisexual who is in a long term relationship with a man and I have never had a relationship with a woman. It hurts to see people in your community treat you like this. Like I have to constantly prove my queerness to feel your acceptance. Not today biphobes. I am Bi and proud.
Hence, I had to make a tweet with my Bi-icon will solace because if there is one thing I know, he doesn't tolerate your biphobia.
LOVE YOU ALL. TO my fellow bisexuals, this is your month, too, and I hope you feel validated with my post 🏳️🌈
Annabeth posts about last weeks counsler meeting that only like, three counselors showed up to, and she was making a tweet informing the counslers thay weren't their, that Chiron wanted everybody at camp over the age of 14, to participate in a "wedding organizer" where they get together with a partner, and put together a future wedding with themselves and said person. (I know you dont have tweet account's for everyone at camp half blood, but if you just kinda make it look like Annabeth or some one was updating Frank and Hazel on how the others are doing (cause I dotn believe the romans would need this) then t would amke enough sense. Or just some one posting about the crazy ideas some of the other kids are coming up with) BEGGING YOU TO START THIS AS A SERIES THOUGH ☆☆☆☆
This was definitely a unique prompt, but I am always happy to do Star Anons requests. Here you go! I don't think I will be making this into a series tho :((
DISCLAIMER: THIS POST WAS NOT INTENDED TO DOWN PLAY TRAUMATIC EVENTS. THE INTENTION WAS TO MAKE A FUNNY PARALLEL OF BOTH FANDOMS.
Are there any Hunger Games fans here? I saw this headcannon in ao3, and I was obsessed. Had to make a tweet asap
CHIRON IN CHB TWITTER ANNOUNCEMENT: Calling the quest selection process "The Reaping" is officially banned from Camp and other related matters related to the fictional book "The hunger games" by Suzanne Collins.
Big Three Shenanigans. I know I haven't been posting (and I haven't been answering asks >.<), but I need more time to conceptualize how the tweets go (it's harder than in looks yall).
BUT ANYWAYS, I had this idea in my head after seeing a Pinterest post.
izzy806
kianamaiart
baratheonpilled
romaincrisis
areudirty
jacobvanloon