WARNINGS: SMUT 18+, dom/sub dynamics, praise, p in v, fingering, safe word mention, edging, unprotected sex, use of ‘sir’,
SUMMARY: Oscar talks to Lando about his sex life and starts worrying that he’s not pleasing you. You decide to try things a little rougher.
WORD COUNT: 3,102
“Do you think I’m good at sex?”
Oscar asked the question as soon as he walked through the door. You laughed. He hadn’t even said ‘hello.’
“What are you talking about, Osc?” You asked. You were sitting at the counter flipping through a magazine.
“Do you think I’m good at sex?” Oscar repeated.
“Is this some kind of foreplay? It’s not really working,” you joked. Oscar looked truly distressed though. He sat down on the stool beside yours at the counter.
“Baby, I’m serious. Is it—Am I good for you?” He asked.
“Where’s this coming from?” You asked. Oscar had never done anything that made you suspect him of being insecure before.
“I was talking to Lando today,” Oscar admitted. You sighed.
“Oscar, Lando’s crazy,” you reminded your boyfriend.
“I know, but he was talking about some of the things he does,” Oscar started. “And he was really surprised that we hadn’t ever done any of them.”
“Okay?” You waited for something more. Oscar sighed.
“The way he looked at me just made me feel like he knew that I was disappointing you without ever asking you,” he told you.
“Well, he doesn’t know that because you’ve never disappointed me, Osc,” you said firmly.
“But do you get everything you want from me?” Oscar pushed. “I don’t do anything special.”
“Did Lando tell you that?” You questioned. You needed to have a word with the sassy little brit.
“No, but he might as well have,” Oscar said.
“What is it that he said?” You pushed.
“It wasn’t one thing,” Oscar told you. “He was just listing off all the things he does with his partners and…I’d never done any of them with you.” He dropped his shoulders. “I feel like I’ve been doing it all wrong.”
“Is there something you want us to do?” You asked. Oscar shrugged.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I just—I thought I knew what you wanted, but I…I guess I never asked you.”
“What did you think I wanted?” You questioned. Oscar looked up at you. He had been avoiding your eyes for the last few minutes.
“I thought you wanted—I don’t know—I thought you should be treated like a princess,” Oscar finally said. You smiled at this revelation.
“You’re always so careful with me,” you said fondly.
“I thought I should be. You’re not just some fling,” he told you. “I don’t want you to feel like I don’t care about you.”
“I always feel like you care about me,” you assured him.
“But are you satisfied? Do you want more from me?”
“Do you want more?” You asked. “You’re more experienced than me, Oscar.”
“Don’t think about me,” he said. “I’ve always kept it….soft…with you.” He was quiet for a moment. “But I haven’t ever asked you if that’s what you want, and I should have,” Oscar reiterated his earlier thought. “So, baby,” he started. “What do you want?” Your eyes widened. The question was far too direct for your shy personality.
“I don’t know,” you replied quickly. “I like what we do.” Oscar smirked. You answered too quickly. You did know what you wanted.
“I do too,” he assured you. “But we could do other things. I’ve always taken the lead, baby,” Oscar said. “What’s something you think about when I’m gone?”
“Oscar, I always think about you,” you said, thinking that it was the most obvious thing in the world. Oscar grinned.
“C’mon, baby,” Oscar said. “Just because you weren’t experienced when you met me doesn’t mean you didn’t have naughty thoughts.”
“Oscar Jack Piastri, what are you saying about me?” You questioned. Oscar chuckled. His eyes were twinkling as he looked at you.
“I know you said I was the first person to make you come,” Oscar said.
“Don’t brag.” He chuckled.
“But I was second,” Oscar continued. “I think we both know the first person to make you come was you.” You blushed. Oscar was simultaneously turning you on and filling your chest with nerves. “You had fantasies before you met me.” Oscar’s eyes were hungry. “Tell me.” You looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Oscar, I don’t want to,” you whispered shyly.
“Why not, love?” He asked.
“I like what we do…and it’s embarrassing,” you mumbled.
“It’s embarrassing to tell me something you want from me?” Oscar questioned.
“Yes!” You whined.
“Why, baby? Don’t you trust me?” Oscar pushed. Your eyes softened.
“Of course I trust you, but…” You trailed off.
“But what?” Oscar pushed.
“You think I’m so innocent, but…” you started. Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I want you to be a little…rougher…with me,” you admitted. “But I don’t want you to think I’m dirty. I like being your innocent baby.”
“It’s okay to be dirty, kitten,” Oscar assured you quickly. “And you can still be my innocent baby.” He reached out and took your hands. “But you want me to be rough with you?” He asked cautiously. Oscar had never tried being rough with you. It didn’t seem right to him. You were so sweet and innocent in his eyes. Your cheeks were burning and you couldn’t meet his eyes as you said the words though. Oscar was sure you were telling the truth.
“If that’s okay…” you whispered. Oscar kept his eyes on you, hoping he could draw another admission out of you if he just stayed quiet. “And maybe you could…make me…beg…a little.” Oscar’s face lit up.
“What do you want to beg for?” He asked at once. You raised an eyebrow. It seemed you had stumbled upon something he wanted too.
“Umm…Why don’t you pick?” You offered. Oscar grinned.
“You want me to be in charge?” He asked. He’d never been submissive between the two of you, but he’d never been particularly dominant either. The balance between you had always been fairly even. You nodded shyly.
“Please,” you squeaked out.
“My naughty baby,” Oscar started taunting. “All this time I thought you were so innocent.” His hands were on you now, sliding up your thighs. You pushed your knees together, as if that would keep him from knowing just how turned on you were.
“Oscar,” you whispered. You weren’t sure what you even meant to ask for.
“But you’re not completely innocent, are you?” Oscar teased you. “Just had this little head full of naughty thoughts while I was treating you so nice.” Oscar could tell by the way you were looking at him that he already had you wrapped around his finger. “Bedroom. Now.” Oscar had never given you a command that way, even in your most heated moments. It was turning you on though, and Oscar could see that. You quickly hurried down the hall. When you got to the bedroom you turned around and looked at Oscar, waiting for further instructions.
“We should have a safe word, shouldn’t we?” Oscar asked you. His new dominant facade wasn’t there. This was your sweet caring Oscar who always wanted you to be okay.
“How about ‘papaya?’” You offered. Oscar chuckled. He had closed the space between you. His hands fell onto your hips.
“Sounds good to me,” he agreed. “You can tell me any time you don’t like something, okay? I won’t be mad.” You nodded. “I want to hear it,” he requested.
“I’ll tell you if I don’t like something,” you assured him.
“Good girl,” he praised. Your eyes went wide and you looked down. Oscar ducked to meet your eyes. “You like that, huh?” He asked. “Should’ve told me that before, kitten.” He gripped the hem of your shirt and lifted it over your head in one smooth motion. You had been at home all day and you hadn’t put on a bra, so Oscar was blessed with the sight of your plush breasts. Your nipples hardened in the cool air of your bedroom. You started to wrap your arms around yourself as a shiver passed over you. Oscar smiled. “Cold?”
“A little,” you said. Oscar grabbed your hips, pushing you back towards the bed till he’d gotten you laid out on your back.
“I’ll warm you up.” He grabbed the waistband to your sweatpants and tugged them down with your underwear. He looked down at your naked body. He never got enough of your body. You were a work of art to him. You were the object of every one of his fantasies. He couldn’t help but stare.
“Yours too,” you called up nervously. Oscar met your eyes and smiled smugly. He kept his eyes locked on yours as he pulled his shirt off. His chest was tight and muscular and he flexed his arms as he tossed his shirt to the side. He started to climb on the bed, but you whined. He looked down at you, waiting for you to explain. “All of it.” You told him. He chuckled before taking his pants off, leaving himself as bare as he had you.
Oscar climbed up the bed once he was naked and laid his body over yours, his weight holding you in place. He had his forearms planted on either side of your head and he leaned down to kiss you. He was soft and sweet with his kisses, contrasting sharply from the dominance he was exhibiting everywhere else. You let out a small sigh of pleasure into the kiss and Oscar chuckled against your lips. He started kissing down your neck and body.
Oscar’s lips fell around your nipple. He sucked and licked at the hardened flesh, bringing a tingling feeling all over your skin. You could feel the burn spreading between your legs and you tried to push them together, but found your knees were blocked by Oscar’s hips. He sensed your intention immediately. He lifted one hand and slid it down between your legs.
“Osc,” you moaned softly at the mere idea of him touching your most sensitive spots. He laughed against your body. He had moved to your other nipple after he felt he had paid enough attention to the first. You were already whimpering and whining under his electric touch. His fingers had found your dripping hole but he refused to slip them inside. You whined in protest, shifting your hips up to signal what you wanted.
“Shh,” he hushed you sharply. You closed your mouth at once. He had never displayed anything like disapproval before. Instinctually, you wanted to please him. He continued to tease your entrance, his lips moving back to yours. You were growing impatient when you finally realized what he was waiting for.
“Please touch me, Oscar,” you murmured against his lips. Oscar smirked. That was all it took for him to slide his fingers inside your warmth. You arched your back and moaned loudly at the feeling of finally being touched in the way you truly wanted.
Oscar slowly started pumping his fingers in and out of you. You were whimpering under his lazy movements, desperate for him to give you more. He kissed your neck, surely making marks that would be seen in any photos taken at the race in the upcoming weekend.
“Are you feeling good?” Oscar asked. His voice was low and gravelly and his accent made his words sound even sexier. You nodded. He gave you a look that told you he was expecting a vocal answer.
“Really good,” you called up. Oscar started pumping his fingers faster. You whimpered. He pushed his thumb against your clit. You whined embarrassingly loud for the fact that he didn’t move it. He snickered at your reaction.
“You’re so fucking sensitive,” Oscar commented. He was saying it more to himself than you—it was like he was bragging to himself. He knew that he was the only one who had ever had you in this state.
The tension in your body was rising and you knew your orgasm was coming. You arched your back, throwing your head into the pillows and clutching at Oscar’s body. You were just on the precipice when suddenly, Oscar wasn’t touching you anymore. You opened your eyes and stared at him, but you were met only with a cocky smirk.
“Why?” You whined.
“You don’t come until I decide you do tonight,” Oscar said. “That’s what you’re begging for.” You closed your mouth and nodded dutifully.
“Yes, sir.” You let the nickname fall off your lips with ease—you didn’t even plan on saying it but there it was on your tongue. Oscar grinned when he heard you.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Oscar groaned. “You’re going to be so good for me, aren’t you?” You nodded quickly.
“Really good, sir,” you agreed. He chuckled.
“Then right now, be quiet,” Oscar said. That was all the warning you got before he was thrusting his fingers into your quickly, his thumb moving quickly against your clit. You whined loudly. “Shh.” The way he was hushing you was driving you up the wall and you clenched around his fingers. Oscar felt it and was spurred on. He moved faster with the hopes of drawing out another moan that he could hush you for.
After Oscar had gotten his fill of hushing you he told you to moan again, not wanting to miss out on the beautiful sounds you made. He drew you to the edge again, spurred on by the moans he could draw from you once he had told you not to be quiet.
Oscar couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He thought he might have been transported to heaven given how beautiful the sight in front of him was. Your face was contorted in pleasure, your eyes watering. Your fingers were dug into the sheets and your hair stuck to your sweaty forehead. You were whimpering and whining in ecstasy and every little ‘please’ and ‘Oscar’ that fell from your lips made him even harder. His thumb was slowly rubbing back and forth over your clit as he kept fingering you steadily. He could feel you tightening around his fingers and he knew he was bringing you towards the edge again.
“Osc,” you murmured more strongly than your small whispers. You knew that he knew you were about to cum. He’d always known your body so well.
“Yes?” He called down with a sly smirk on his face. You scowled at him, knowing he was teasing you.
“Oscar, please.” Oscar smirked.
“Please, what?” He asked.
“Please can I—ungh!” You gasped when Oscar rubbed the pads of his fingers against your walls.
“Can you what?” Oscar taunted.
“Please can I cum, sir?” You spit out.
“No, I don’t think so,” Oscar teased as he pulled his thumb away. You cried out in protest. Oscar stopped thrusting his fingers, and pulled them out of your heat. Oscar watched as your chest heaved, trying to recover from the sudden theft of pleasure. “God, I should’ve been playing with you like this since we met,” Oscar groaned.
“Please,” you whined. “I want to come.”
“Oh, I know, kitten,” Oscar cooed. You sniffled slightly, a single tear slipping down your cheek. Oscar reached up and wiped it away. “Is it too much?” He checked. His voice was softer. You were quiet for a moment.
“No,” you admitted quietly. Oscar smiled, but he was worried that you were just saying it to please him.
“You promise me, kitten?” He pushed. You nodded.
“I promise, Osc,” you said. Oscar smiled in approval and kissed you.
“You want my cock now, baby?” He asked.
“Please,” you said in a gasping breath. Oscar was going wild at the desperation in your voice. He couldn’t bring himself to tease anymore so he lined himself up with you. He looked into your eyes as he slowly slipped himself into you. He moved slowly as he pushed in, making the most indulgent moan you had ever heard from him.
“You’re fucking soaked,” he groaned. He was right. You could hear the slosh of your juices with every thrust Oscar made.
“I’m not going to last long,” you whined.
“I know, kitten,” Oscar said. He grabbed your legs and pushed them up against your chest. You let out a sharp cry at the sudden change in angle. You cried out Oscar’s name and dug your fingers into his arms, surely leaning bruises. Oscar could feel you clenching down on him and he knew you were nearing your peak. He looked deep into your tear brimmed eyes. You felt the panic of having your orgasm stolen from you again. Oscar’s eyes were dark as they stared into yours.
“Beg.” His voice was low and gravelly and firm and you were sure there wasn’t a person in the world who could have denied him.
“Please, sir. Please make come. I need it so bad. I need you. I need your cum. Please, Osc,” you were crying and whimpering the words out, terrified of the idea of having the burning pleasure you felt taken from you again.
“Where do you need my cum?” Oscar pushed.
“Inside me! Inside, Osc, please!” You cried. Your body was on fire, your mind outside your body. Oscar grinned at your words.
“Come.” Oscar’s order was the sweetest sound you ever heard and you let the tsunami of pleasure Oscar had built for you wash over your body. You were shaking and crying, your hips pushing up into his. You tightened down on Oscar and he gasped, letting himself go to the sounds of you chanting his name over and over.
You weren’t sure how long it was after you came but you found yourself back in your body with Oscar lying on top of you. He was pressing soft kisses to the crook of your neck where his head was resting comfortably. Somehow he knew that you had calmed down the moment it happened.
“How was that for you?” He asked. You laughed.
“Are you joking, Osc?” You asked. “That’s the best sex we’ve ever had.” He chuckled back.
“I didn’t want to assume,” he replied. You noticed the bruises you’d made on his arms and you gently ran your fingertips over them.
“I think we owe Lando a ‘thank you,’” you said. Oscar laughed.
“I’ll be sure to let him know.” You turned your head down to find Oscar’s eyes looking into yours.
“You better not tell him everything,” you threatened. Oscar smiled.
“There’s no secrets between teammates,” he teased.
“There is if you want to do that again,” you said. Oscar smirked.
“I think we just established that you’re the one who does the begging.” You smirked right back at him.
“Maybe this time. But Lando was right. There’s lots we haven’t tried.”
Good article hunting (Oscar Piastri x Male Reader)
Hello guys! :) so this is my first fanfic in a looong time + english is not my first language so please bear with me. But since I had this idea lingering in my mind all day long I decided: why not?
word count: 2119
warnings: +18 content! minors please dni!
You glaze to the ever growing crowd that entered the hall, if there was a place you never imagined being in, it was here, what would a rookie reporter like you be doing on a big formula one event like this? You look at your open notes app as a way to pass the time, and try not to freak out as more and more celebrities pass by. For the tenth time you repeat yourself what you came here to do
“just interview the Mclaren drivers, ask them about the last race and the problems with the car and go home, easy breezy”
A silent nod marks that you understood your game plan, a nervous laughter escapes your mouth when you remember what happened in said last race. It was all over social media, impossible to forget, the moment where Oscar Piastri bumped into you while you were announcing to the broadcast about the car problems that lead to them finishing P11 and P12. His eyes, fueled with anger, locked with yours and like a wave that breaks into the shore, they seemed to lose strength and soften. That moment that was only a couple seconds long seemed to last for eternity, then his eyes followed your body and you could see yourself starting to stutter, you didn’t know if you started an interview or if you ended your announcement, after all it was your first time as a reporter. Oscar snapped back and stormed off, leaving you and the general public with more questions than answers, the car problems took a second place in everyone’s mind.
“Who is this guy?”
“Lol I didn’t know Oscar was bissexual, good for him!!”
“I think yall are exaggerating really, not everything needs to be romance, and osc has a gf after all…”
Those were some of the comments that flooded social media after that day, and all you could do was read them and pray that they didn’t find your profiles and started calling you a man-whore. I mean, your opinion on Oscar was of anyone with a sane mind, he was a good driver, great even, not much more than that…right?
“He is average looking”
That’s what you thought, even though you couldn’t shake off this funny emotion that you felt every time you remembered that ruinous moment. His eyes…his unreal gorgeous brown eyes left a mark on you that you really couldn’t ignore. But everything seemed ok, after the race you followed with your normal life as a reporter until one day, a couple of weeks ago, while scrolling through instagram you received that risky message. You stood up, couldn’t believe for a second what your eyes were telling you, was it really THE Oscar Piastri sending you a message? Yes, the screen wasn’t lying, the formula one driver really was trying to slide into your dms.
You shake your head trying to reenter reality. After that day you both stayed up long nights texting each other, it truly was something that seemed like a made up fantasy. Why would he be interested in your uninteresting reporter life? But he seemed…really interested, especially in the ‘you’ part. He complimented you a lot, on your beautiful hair, your beautiful eyes, your beautiful smile, you got flustered even remembering those charming but more than everything seductive messages.
“He probably doesn’t even mean it that way. After all, he is a straight guy, probably just trying to get a good article on him, typical self-centered celebrity behavior”
You muttered to yourself as you saw the Mclaren drivers enter the hall. Making your way through the legion of reporters and magazine writers trying to get a piece of the drivers, you could only think that your wish was to get this over with, and finally stumbled into the view of both Oscar and Lando. After fixing your tiny microphone you elevated your gaze only to meet those same brow eyes that were taunting you weeks prior. The questions started flowing normally, but all you could think about was his eyes, and his lovely eyes and his cute bunny-like smile. He moved the weight of his body and you could feel his hand lightly brush yours, a side look and your eyes locked again. At that moment you could feel you breathing become shorter, raspier. He moved again, at that moment staring at Lando, who you didn’t even remember was answering one of your questions. What was that? You could feel your heart pounding like an earthquake as with your peripheral vision you could see Oscar’s side smirk. He knows, he knows the power that he has over people, he knows that he made you lose sleep when you had to work the next day, and he liked to know it.
“Alright, thank you for your answers”
You enunciate to the drivers, after deciding that their answers would give your enough material on your next article, in that second, you thank god for the invention of microphones and recorders, because you couldn’t remember a single word that Lando had said. Your telephone buzzes, and after making your way back to your starter point you pick it up just to see his name again, Oscar
“Can you meet me by the second floor stairs in 2 hours?”
This can’t be real, you exhale and laugh while holding your phone. You turn towards the other side of the hall. First of all, how did he have time to text you mid interviews? But nevertheless, you answer, without thinking much about it.
“Ok”
Two long hours pass by. Since it was a charity event, after all the interviews were conducted in the entering hall all the drivers and the press were guided to their respective seats. The event begins, and the host conducted a long speech about the importance of their cause, except all you could think about was the driver seating five tables across from yours. His black tuxedo had a mate shine that exuded elegance and his beautiful hair was cut a little longer than normal, falling softly towards the end of his neck. Some words are exchanged with colleagues, they don’t even suspect that there is anything out of the ordinary, you excuse yourself and pretend to go to the bathroom, actually going towards the stairs and going up to the second floor.
The second floor was empty, words could be faintly heard coming from the main hall, the moon shining from in between the big silk curtains that draped over the windows. You let out a big sigh, your hands tapping your suit in search of your pack of cigarettes. Since the windows were open, no one would really mind if you smoked here, right? As you light up a cigarette you feel two hands grasping your waist, a body approaching firmly yet somehow softly and a head resting lightly on your shoulder.
“You look even more handsome up close”
Oscar’s voice was indistinguishable, you turn around to face him, face to face, his perfume was strong and inebriated your senses. You stroke his arm, his actions spoke all the unspoken words. You could feel his tensed muscles, he knew how dangerous this was but all he wanted at that moment was at a palm’s reach, he wanted you. Since your eyes locked at that first day that’s all he wanted, you, and only you.
“What do you want…osc?” you ask, teasingly.
“All these messages, these past few weeks just trying to catch my attention, for what?”
You brush his lip lightly with your thumb, he was breathy and his eyes focused on your hand, your body, and then your eyes.
“You, I want you” he responds, eyes deep into your soul.
He presses you against the window, and kisses you lustfully, his tongue moving rapid in your mouth like his life depended on it. With one hand, Oscar pulls you closer, pressing his body against yours, a faint moan escapes your lips when you feel his boner pressing against your hips. Your mind rushed, what if someone saw you two? Both of your careers would be done, completely. You feel Oscar unbuttoning your shirt, his eyes sinfully focused on your exposed skin. He wraps his teeth on your skin leaving marks that would be terrible to explain. You pull him closer, hands running through his hair, his beautiful beautiful brown hair, you pull it, obliging Oscar to separate himself from you neck and look in your eyes.
“This is insane”
You whisper with an expression that said “we should stop” but secretly begged for more. He pulls you deeper into the second floor, where light almost couldn’t reach. All you could discern were the shape of both of your bodies, merging against each other. You start to make out again, this time more aggressively than before. The kissing now was only interrupted by a few breaks to gasp for air. You could feel a single drop of sweat roll on your back from the heat between you two. All you could say is how much you wanted to feel him inside you. You push Oscar against the wall, changing positions, he lets out a shocked smirk and brushes his hand through your hair while you get down on your knees.
“Oh, so that’s what you like?”
He asks you while you take out his belt. All the time, your eyes are chained to each other, the same spark you felt when you first met seemed to engulf you two completely. He tilts his head back as you start to blow him, going up and down sloppily, while your hands hold his waist.
“fuck..” he murmurs “and you seemed so shy” he laughs with his mouth semi-open while you go deeper, feeling his cock against the back of your throat, he tilts his head again and bites his lips, failing to contain a moan. You could feel his core clenched, his waist moving against his will, his body begging for everything you could give him. He couldn’t contain his whimpers even if he tried, his breath cut short by soft moans that intercalated. He pulls your hair, making you hold direct eye contact with him, making you feel something that you never ever felt before, you beg him to fuck you, feeling ashamed by how much you needed him to fill you up.
Oscar puts you up against the wall, your back turned to him. He takes off his jacket and tosses it to the side, you could feel his warm breath against the back of your neck. He pushes your pants and your boxers down just enough to give him space to push inside you, you feel the warm spit lubricate you and his hands squeezed your waist hard as he pushed his cock deep into you
“you are so fucking tight” he says breathly while you grind against him, feeling him hit every spot inside you. His hand cover your mouth while he pushes faster and faster inside, and you feel jolts of pleasure go through your body while he bites your neck, marking you as his, and his only. His body finally collapses against yours while you feel his semen fill you up, both your weakened bodies trying to catch what is little left of strength just to go back to the main event you were ditching. He softens his grip while he gets off of you, and starts to softly kiss your neck, his hands going up your back, then down, stopping at your waist. After starting to dress up again, you turn around to face him, a little embarrassed thinking about what just had happened.
He laughs, noticing your shy stare, then holds your face with both of his hands, kissing you lovingly for what seemed like one last time.
“Message me, ok?”
He said, staring deeply into your eyes, and you could feel that it was sincere. Maybe you were wrong about him, maybe he was entranced by your stare the same way you were by his, maybe the wish to see you up close wasn’t some try-to-get-a-good-article tactic, maybe he really wanted to see you.
“Ok” you agree, looking up towards him
He caresses your check, kissing it right after. When up close you could feel him trying to catch his breath, his perfume now mixed with yours. And then he left, as quickly as he appeared, and all you could do was smoke another cigarette.
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