🍸 LINA. she/her, southeast asian, uni student, eighteen, enfp; the number one daniel caesar fan who's obsessed with formula one, harry potter, and dystopian movies
REQS. open !
WRITING. smaus, blurbs
my masterlist !
recent works … strike a pose !, material girl !
working on … oscar piastri x house music dj!reader
summary : known for his late-night minecraft streams and waking his neighbors up in the depths of night, max isn’t famous for much else, hence why chat blows up over an accidental reveal.
pairing : streamer!max verstappen x reader
lina’s radio : max max max super max max max, sorry this is such a short writing for me but i HAD to write about max i love him 🫰🫰
max lights up his pc, turning on the monitor as it slowly crackles to life, the time in the bottom right hand corner blaring a concerning 2:56am. he’s thoughtful enough to try and make as little noise as possible, tapping every key with precision and gentleness, the pads of his fingers just barely grazing over each individual button. the room brightens significantly, cool, blue light projecting onto his face and glaring into max's eyes as the monitor finally turns on. he shuffles around, eyes squinting and attempting to adjust to the newfound light, before finally being able to slip on his glasses, the yellow tone of the lenses cancelling out the harmful illumination of his screen. his movements are slow as he flicks his mouse, loading up the familiar screen of twitch, adjusting his webcam before he finally launches his stream.
there's a comfort in the soft music that plays in the background of max's paused screen, plain letters spelling, stream starting soon..., dancing around as an influx of viewers filter in. 542... 1,098... 6,210... 11,804... 16,702, max watches at it evens out at 18,432, the number rising and falling with every given second, crazy, he thinks, that many people up at, he looks at the clock behind him, 3:06 am? soon, he changes the screen, grinning at the webcam as comments flood the sidebar. max waves, eyes flitting to messages that fly by rapidly, his voice is a low whisper as he recites the sayings of his viewers, “good morning....?” a chuckle falls from his mouth as he continues, “why is everyone up so late?…or is this considered early? i don't know,” he rambles.
minecraftmissus28: one of these days he needs to make a daytime stream
papayabadger_3: okay mate load up minecraft already
angelonearth.666: his face card ughhhhhh
mysteriousgirl3300: asking us why we're up when he started the stream
x_prettywhenicry_x: everytime you die you have to strip challenge!!!!
dissociating55: he's gonna wake up his neighbor again bro
max laughs again, “my neighbor and i actually haven't fought since,” he taps his lips in faux contemplation, “my last stream probably, so like…two weeks ago?” he barks out a laugh despite himself, “a record, but i’m trying to keep the noise down and be thoughtful for once,” he shrugs, switching out of his streaming tab and booting up minecraft. the eerie music echoes within the room, causing a shiver to run down max’s spine as he launches a new world.
“my pickaxe is fucked!” he yelps, an annoyed groan falling from his lips as his third pickaxe breaks in the cave. “so fucking stupid….” he mutters, sprinting back to his base in the cave to craft another tool. as he does, a donation pops up on his screen, the chime breaking his focus for a moment as the automated voice reads the comment, “max, do your neighbors ever come up to you in the daytime and curse you out? LOL.” the monotonous narration makes the dutchman chuckle, shaking his head as he speaks, fingers flying across the keys, “no, i think they actually try to avoid me, i don’t look very friendly most of the time,” he admits, hand reaching to the nape of his neck as he scratches it, a sheepish blush rising over his pale skin.
pinkiecupid00: RBF final boss LMFAOOO
boxingkoala__81: why is he blushingg
16.failingfaith: imagine being neighbors with THE minecraft gamer, max verstappen
babydollkissez: do his neighbors watch his streams???
87_birdie: dude his neighbors probably DESPISE him
youngho41: proper name place name backstory stuff
max rolls his eyes as he reads the chat on his second monitor, his attention pulled away just as his character on screen falls a few too many blocks. a bright red screen appears on his computer as he curses loudly, the obscenities reverberating within his bedroom. the sound of his headset crashing onto the ground is picked up by his stationed microphone as he stands, walking away from his keyboard as he paces the room, still visible in the webcam. he groans into the palms of his hands loudly, a muffled i hate this game! faintly being heard before he abruptly turns and pads back to his desk, sliding himself into his chair. he blindly reaches for his headset, pulling it over his ears as he addresses his viewers again. “okay, we’re making a new world, this is bullshit,” his fingers just graze the surface of his mouse when a sharp series of knocks interrupts him. “fuck!”
overflowingwater99: THAT HAS TO BE HIS NEIGHBOR AGAIN IM CTFUU
12dishesofpasta: omg his face he looks so fed up
mirroringbeauty_xx: he’s so cooked
poshboy.63: serves him right for yelling at 4am in the morning
1_totallyinlove: someone start a gofundme so he can move out
argentinianmilfhunter: all this raging over MINECRAFT btw
max’s head whips to his door, then back to the webcam as he spurts out an apology, muting his mic and switching his stream to his plain screen that reads, will be back soon. as he’s sure he’s disconnected everything, he gets up, nearly knocking over his gaming chair and tripping as he makes his way out of his bedroom and towards his apartment door. the knocks are persistent, angry even, as he finally pops his head to look through the peephole, smiling despite himself as he notes who is on the other side. he swings open the door, watching as your arms cross disappointedly, the furrow in your brow conveying nothing if not frustration and annoyance. he gives a sheepish smile, hand reaching behind his neck, scratching it shyly, “i’m sorry, schatje”
you’re woken up at the ripe, wonderful time of 3:46am, yells coming from the apartment beside you annoyingly loud. you live in monaco for goodness sake, you think, rolling over to your side as the shouts continue, why are the walls still so thin? you sit up, moving onto the edge of your bed, feet dangling above the cool, wooden tiles of your floor. there’s a pause in between the noise that comes from your boyfriend’s apartment, then it comes; it’s a shout about something pickaxe related with a curse thrown in, and you let out a huff out of annoyance, hopping off of your bed and slotting your socked feet into a pair of fluffy slippers, quietly padding out of your room and out into the vast apartment.
you’re clad in fuzzy bunny slippers, a slim cami, and bear-decorated pajama shorts as the coolness of the rest of your apartment greets you. you shiver, grabbing a hoodie that rests on the couch, as you piick it up, you note it smells like rainwater, something fresh, and a twinge of sandalwood, ah, max left his hoodie, again. you pull it over your head, the warmth of it almost mimicking a hug as you walk towards the kitchen. you sigh as you prep yourself a cup of tea, pouring the boiling water into your favorite mug, the design of it something from max’s brand. as you sip, your eyes flicker to the decor around your home, everywhere has a little of both you and your boyfriend, he might as well live here the way he only seems to leave to stream, you think, snorting as you set down your mug. the silence lasts for a fleeting moment, moonlight streaming in steadily through cracks in the curtains as it illuminates the room, then you hear it. its a crash of some sort, and you can only roll your eyes, great.
your footsteps are swift as you make your way to the apartment across from you, your hand lifting to the door as you knock quickly. you shuffle around, listening as a distant fuck! in a dutch accent spills out from inside the apartment as you open one of the heads of the many cat statues that sit at the foot of the door, smiling as you find a key. you let out an internal aha!, your fingers twirling around the teeth as you grasp the door handle, ready to insert the key. but just as you do, you feel it rattle from the other side, and you drop it back into statue’s head, your face already pulling itself into a frustrated expression.
your arms cross unconsciously, your brows furrowing as you watch your boyfriend on the other side of the doorway scratch the back of his neck, “i’m sorry, schatje,” your tongue clicks at the apology, your eyes narrowing as you stare back at max. “its 3am max!” you whisper yell, you watch as he steps closer to you, an apologetic smile on his face, “it won’t happen again lieverd, i promise,” his words come out sincere and you can’t help but sigh as his arm wraps around your waist, his lips moving to your own. you let out a shaky breath as he makes contact, the kiss soft, a lingering apology hanging in the air as saliva swaps between the two of you and your fingers curl around his biceps. the air seems to thicken, a blanket of heat warming the two of you as he pulls away briefly, eyes making contact with yours before the space closes, your face being littered with kisses. “it” kiss. “won’t” kiss. “happen” kiss “again” kiss. “okay?” the last kiss lands squarely on your lips, and your eyes flutter at the affection, your resolve dissolving slowly as you watch your boyfriend cock his head sideways, awaiting your answer. “fine, but if it happens again, i’ll shut off your stream, i swear,” you sigh, swatting his hands off your waist, watching as a pout forms on his lips at the move. a satisfactory smile makes its way to your face as you cup max’s face, planting a peck onto his cheek before tapping it lightly, “i’m tired and miss you, be back in bed soon, okay?”
you wake up in the morning with an arm wrapped around you, a thick thigh splayed over your own two, and warm breaths falling into the crook of your neck. your eyes crack open, and looking down you see max’s soft hair finding its home in the space between your shoulder, and you can’t help the giggle that escapes you. you hear how he groans, nuzzling further into your body, arms tightening around you as he mutters incoherent complaints. “baby, get off!” you laugh, feeling how he shakes his head against your shoulder, “why do you even have an apartment if all you do is end up sneaking in here, hm?” you ask, peeling away from the dutchman as he whines, blue eyes finally popping open as you sit up, leaning over him. you push the hair away from his face with gentle hands, planting a kiss on his forehead. “only because you won’t let me stream in here,” he shrugs, eyes flickering across your hoodied figure as you get up from the bed, smoothing the sheets. you let out a faux offended gasp, clutching your heart dramatically, “only because you’re too loud when i’m trying to sleep!” you watch how a grin takes over his face, “yes, yes schatje, you’re always right,” he nods over enthusiastically, a shit eating smirk reaching his eyes as you roll your own, already slipping on a pair of house shoes and making your way out of your bedroom, max in tow behind you.
“fuck! max!” he hears your call as he fixes up breakfast for the two of you, your annoyed yet panicked voice grabbing his attention almost immediately as he hears you yell from the bathroom. “coming!” he shouts back, quickly turning off the stovetop and plating the cooked eggs onto the ceramic dish that lays conveniently placed on the counter beside him. he tries his best to race up the stairs—almost bruising his knees and falling over in the process—when he finally is able to see you: arms crossed, a towel wrapped around your body, and a frown on your face. immediately, his face twists in concern, hands cupping your face as he inspects you, “are you okay? what happened-” “my water isn’t hot.” you deadpan, annoyance radiating off of you as your brows knit together tightly, turning your head to stare at the shower like it had wronged you somehow—and in technicalities, it did. his arms drop from your face, back straightening as he moved from crouching beside you to standing, his arm reaching for his phone while the other scratches the nape of his neck. “i’ll call someone to fix it, liefje. do you want to take a shower at my place?” his head cocks as he studies your thinking face, before you eventually nod, a wide grin blooming across his face. “come, let’s go.”
the rest of the day seemingly goes without a hitch; max cooks, a movie plays mindlessly on the tv, and the two of you are wrapped together on the couch of his living room. his apartment differs slightly from your own, cool tones decorating the walls while sleek, modern furniture makes its own statement within his home. his fingers draw on your upper arm mindlessly, the pattern a mix of swirls and shapes as your body seemingly molds into his, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you, safe for the murmur of the tv. your neck cranes to look at him, lashes fluttering as your eyes study his face, heat rising to your face as he makes eye contact with you, an eyebrow quirked. “are you streaming tonight?” your voice is soft, tone light and airy as you ask the question, watching how max smooths a hand over his mouth, eyes flicking somewhere else as he thinks. “hm, probably, left off on a good spot yesterday…” his voice trails off as his gaze meets your own again, “i’ll probably wait until you’re knocked out, just so i’m not too loud, is that okay?” he asks, hand rubbing over your shoulder in comfort. so thoughtful, you think, a small smile tugging at your lips as you nod, “okay,” you respond, and the conversation ends, the silence hugging the both of you as you lay together, soft sunset colors illuminating the room through open windows.
max studies you as your body presses into him deeper, your breaths coming out shallowly just as your lashes flutter shut. he can’t help but admire you as you unconsciously nuzzle closer into his chest, you look beautiful, an angel even, he thinks, moving a piece of hair from your face as he lays there, unmoving as to not disturb your sleep. eventually though, he makes his efforts to scoop you up, a princess carry adjacent hold as he moves you from the living room couch to his bedroom. like the gentleman he is, he tucks you in, careful to shush you gently when you whine, slotting a plushie between your arms to replace him as he steps away. he stands there for a moment, hovering over you, watching as your breathing evens out and how you unconsciously make yourself more comfortable. thank goodness, he thinks, eyes flitting to the clock above your sleeping figure on the bed, 12:28am, okay now would be a good time to start streaming, right?
max’s face comes into view as he first begins streaming, waving as the flood of viewers piles in. “early stream today, i know,” he chuckles, watching as his viewer count slowly dances around the 12,694 mark, the number jumping and decreasing with every passing second. he moves his streaming tab to his second monitor, loading up the familiar screen of minecraft, the recognizable theme song playing as he clicks onto his world. “i’m trying to be quiet today, so bare with me if the mic is too close,” he admits, eyes squinting as he reads the brief chats that fly by.
bestmullet77: HAHA HIS NEIGHBOR DEFINITELY HATES HIM
notwinning_4: he looks so embarrassed bye this is frying me
66_floweringgoddess: early stream he says….as if it isn’t almost one am like okay
limegreenoldie27: i wonder how long he sleeps in for like omg
09.mentallyinsummer: actually matter of fact…pull the mic closer
destroyingmycar.6: someone free his neighbor
he lets out a chuckle as he reads, a pale flush rising its way to his cheeks and stretching across to his ears, “it’s an early stream for me!” he puts his hands up in mock defense, grinning as he responds to the next chat, “i usually sleep in until 11:30, i can’t sleep in anymore or else i’ll feel super lazy,” he confesses, taking a sip of the redbull that sits on his counter. he sets it down gently, his other hand finding his blue-light glasses, slipping them on. he sighs contently as the harsh illumination dulls slightly, and he slips on his headphones, the noise cancellation lowering his senses as he watches the screen finally finish loading. “oookay, let’s hope we can beat the dragon without dying again”
your nose scrunches in annoyance as your body comes back to life, your senses picking up on one too many things at this time of night. you can smell a sort of fresh fragrance coming from the soft hoodie that hugs you, your mouth feels grossly dry as you reach out for the waterbottle—that gleams with the help of moonlight—on the nightstand, but of course, you’re awoken due to something much like the night before. “fuck!” the sound of your boyfriend’s voice echoes throughout his apartment and weeds its way into your ears. you huff, body tossing and turning as you listen to his complaints, some stupid commentary about wildlife shouted with an accusatory tone in that infuriatingly attractive accent. sleep tugs at your body, and you almost fall into it every few minutes, only to be rudely interrupted by another string of curses. you lay there in bed, eyes staring up widely at the ceiling, and a defeated sigh falls from your lips, not again.
your footsteps are light as you make your way throughout the long hallway of his apartment and towards his gaming room, ear pressed against the door as you attempt to make out what he says. it’s futile, you realize, but you really just want to go to bed. your hand raises, knocking thrice as you always do, and you await a response. a few seconds pass, then thirty, then a minute, and you let out a frustrated huff, only knocking again. your ear finds itself pressed again to the door, listening to the clicking of keys, the whirr of the pc, and unmistakably, your boyfriend’s voice. is he ignoring you? you shake your head, he wouldn’t, no, so why isn’t he answering or at least lowering his voice? sleep seems like a battle that you can’t fight, the feeling tugging at your body harder, your eyelids opening and closing with every given second. fed up and exhausted, you grab the door handle, twisting it as you quietly enter the room, “maxie?”
his noise canceling headphones work almost too well. max’s fingers fly across keys, clicking his mouse in an almost inhuman-like pace as he sprints across the end. he lets out a string of curses as he’s flown into the air by the dragon, almost dying if not for the bucket of water he’s able to save himself with. “this stupid dragon!” he shouts, exasperated. his jaw clenches as he shoots the end crystals that sit atop the towers, letting out a uncharacteristically joyful cheer at sniping them all. the fight goes on for what seems like forever, endermen effortlessly dealing damage to him as he sprints to the exit portal where the dragon sits above, flapping its wings like its taunting him. from his peripheral, he watches as the chat flies quick, almost too quick, but he doesn’t think much of it, his focus solely on killing the ruler of the alternate dimension of the game. then it happens, with one final placement of a bed, the enderdragon is killed, and he lets out a breath of relief, chuckling slightly to himself as relaxes back into his chair. the screech of the animal echoes in his ear before everything quiets, and he hears it, “maxie?”
his head whips around at your voice, eyes making contact with yours as he takes in your tired expression. your tone is soft, laced with a gentle sleepiness he’s sure he doesn’t deserve, especially for waking you so late at night. immediately, he moves, ripping his headset off his ears and clicking a button on his microphone to mute it—it does not in fact mute, and only makes the mic more sensitive to the conversation that happens a mere few feet away, he realizes much later. “oh mijn meisje, i am so sorry, was i too loud?” he pulls you into a tight squeeze, kissing your forehead repeatedly before he pulls away, cupping your face with gentle hands. he watches as you nod, sleepy eyes attempting to look up at him, “i’m tired maxie, can we go to bed?” he nods quickly, almost seemingly possessed as he kisses your temple feverently, “let me end this okay schatje?” he pecks your lips, moving back to his pc where he watches the chat fly a hundred times a minute, fuck.
liliesaremyfavorite_23: OMG HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND??? WTFFFF
thinkingboutyouuu: omg him speaking in dutch HELLO!
bwoah7: wait…isn’t that his neighborrr…????? i swear i’ve heard her voice before AM I CRAZY???
redtractor.44: his face bro he fucked up ijbol
85__helloracing: her voice is so soft???? WHO IS THIS MAX
winnerinwet18: oh he’s down BAD
max stutters for a moment, slack-jawed as he watches the chat explode with comments from viewers, then he looks at the mic, of course he pressed the wrong button, just his luck. he leans out of frame, eyes flitting to you, they know now, i wasn’t muted, he mouths, watching as your body shakes with silent laughter. he almost lets out a groan as you shake your head in disbelief, the teasing causing a pout to form on his lips. he watches you for a moment, taking in your crinkled eyes and smile before he lets out a sheepish laugh, facing the webcam as his fingers fiddle with themselves out of view as he speaks, “okay…i’ve got to go guys…” his grins, eyes narrowing as he attempts to read the viewers’ chats, when suddenly a monotonous voice rings out in the quiet of the room. “IS SHE YOUR NEIGHBOR? HAVE YOU BEEN LYING TO US?” max has to move himself out of frame again, pleading eyes locking onto your’s as he mouths again, what should i say? he watches as you shrug, amused yet tired eyes blinking slowly as you mouth back, tell them. for a third time, he faces his lit up monitor screen, the chat flying as he speaks again, “uh thank you for the donation, yes she’s my neighbor and my girlfriend,” he moves out of frame then, gesturing you to come over, and you do, waving hello.
saturnsprincess: she is GORGEOUS wow.
braziliantreats_5: okay so he’s been making bank over his and his girlfriend’s relationship BYE
wtf.is.a.kilometer: stronger than me ngl i’d be pissed off everyday
frenchman10: mogging couple alert
14gramps: omg how did he bag that??? actually HOW is she with him when all he does is scream at night???
rosemary_kisses: her making him gts and end stream CLOCK ITTT
you giggle as you read the chats that filter in, a genuine smile taking over your tired features as you recognize the love you receive from max’s fanbase. “thank you guys for the love,” you blow a kiss into the webcam, making a heart with your hands as you continue, “but i miss my boyfriend so, goodnight!” your fingers find the end stream button quicker than max can say a farewell to the viewers, and you let out a satisfied sigh, head turning where you find max already staring at you, the look of love so evident across his expression. you plant a fleeting peck onto his lips, feeling as he pushes for more just as you slip away, body already turning away to the door. you beckon him to follow you with a hand, a tired, but loving smile on your lips as you open the door, cool air filtering into the warmed gaming room, “bedtime!”
it’s 1:28am as you finally settle into max’s bed, finding space between his arms as he kisses the top of your head with much affection. you smile, looking up at him through hooded eyes and fluttering lashes, “do you think you should do a qna? your viewers must be curious, no?” you ask, ear pressed against his rhythmic heartbeat, listening to the beat of it and his soft breathing as he responds, “yeah, just during the daytime maybe,” he lets out a small laugh, the sound dying down as he pushes you further into his chest, the contact warming you significantly. sleep seems to take you then, your senses dulling as the conversation seemingly ends, and comfortable silence overlapping the two of you, “goodnight maxie,” you manage to whisper out, head falling heavily against your boyfriend’s chest as you succumb to sleep. what you don’t hear is max’s soft confession, his voice thick with an emotion only described as pure unadulterated love as he whispers back, “goodnight, i love you liefje.”
also on this note please read my masterlist to see who i write for….if the driver you want a req for isn’t on there, i will not be writing for them!!
also….thanks a bunches for all the requests i’m getting!!! i love love seeing everyone’s ideas and i can’t wait to make them come true, just please be patient, for i am a strugglingggg uni student who has a very unbalanced work-life schedule!!
thank you so much to everyone who interacts with my works, it means so much more than you think!!
summary : everyone meets their soulmate through various ways: teleportation, a red string, pain receptors, drawings on skin, yet you don’t have the faintest clue of how to find your’s.
pairing : kimi antonelli x soulmate!reader
lina’s radio : UGHHHH i LOVE the soulmate concept, i just sucked at executing it ngl 🥹🥹
everyone says that, “once you meet your soulmate, you’ll know,” and that, “it’s fate,” and that maybe, possibly, “you’ll be able to figure out who your soulmate is before you even see their face.” but you think that maybe…everyone might just be full of shit.
what other explanation could there be? believe in this long lasting myth that somehow you could find your soulmate without any sort of direction? no, it’s statistically nearly impossible. with eight billion people across this earth, you were expected to find the love of your life? definitely not. at least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself.
AGE FIVE, 2011
the hope begins at age five, a time where you’re still so unsure, still exploring, still unknowing of everything that awaits you. your first memory of learning of this supernatural phenomenon of soulmates was far before five, it was when you were three. your mother’s voice rung in your ears, loud and clear, “at five, you’ll know how you’ll meet your soulmate, and no matter what, you’ll find them.” it’s a tale as old as time, one your grandmother told your mother, your great grandmother told your grandmother, and so on and so forth. from then, you’d always wondered how you’d learn to find your soulmate, the when could be figured out much, much later.
“…tanti auguri a yn, tanti auguri a te!” you smiled, clapping your hands as your family sang in italian, a language you learned to speak and understand once you moved at only four years old. your eyes shut tightly as you heard your mom usher you to make a wish, and clasping your hands together and blew out the candles, i hope my soulmate finds me soon. when you opened your eyes, that’s when the panic began. “tesoro mia, what’s wrong?” you heard your father’s gruff voice ask, noticing the tears welling in your eyes. your mother patted your back soothingly, “stellina mia…” her voice trailed off as she spoke, hoisting you up onto her lap as sobs wracked your little body, your heartbreaking cries echoing throughout the house. “i…” you hiccuped, voice hitching as you attempted to get your words out, “the color!” you began crying again, hands fisting the linen shirt your mom had on as she stroked your hair lovingly, pressing kisses to the top of your head as comfort, “i can’t! i can’t see the color anymore!”
AGE EIGHT, 2014
monochromatism or momochromacy, that’s what the doctors had told you. a condition where you now only saw in shades of gray, a condition that took away your independence, and a condition where unless you made direct eye contact with your soulmate, color would never return. great, if only the chances of that happening were incredibly high. otherwise, it doesn’t look like you’ll be getting back your colored vision anytime soon.
primary school was difficult at first. it was hard not knowing what colors were what when you drew pictures, what shirt you wanted to wear because you didn’t know if the bottoms would match, not knowing the answer to the question, what’s your favorite color?, but you got used to it. sometimes, you even thought that color came back, faded at the edges of your vision, but unmistakably those vibrant hues you missed so much, but then it’d disappear, always fleeting, like a curse that left you intermittently on a cliffhanger. yeah, it was weird.
your first friend came into your life at age eight, bianca. she never really asked or announced that she’d be your friend, only sitting down beside you during art class, pointing out that your colors were wrong, and lecturing you to, read the labels! while clicking her tongue and shaking her head dramatically. that day you learned a lot about her: she was from the phillipines, some series of islands far beyond where you knew about, and that she loved racing. “my papa loves watching that stuff,” you murmured while coloring, eyes locked on the different shades of gray that littered your paper. “says i should try out before its too late and i get old,” you shrug, “can you pass me….that one?” you finally look up, pointing to a colored pencil beside the filipina before your eyes find hers, noticing her starstruck expression, “you should totally join me!” your eyebrow quirked, a confused look on your face as you shrugged again, “uhhh…” you tapped your finger on your chin, deep in thought, “only if you promise to help me pick colors out,” you muttered, “still pretty hard for me…oh! and if you agree to be my friend for like…forever,” you say, a beaming smile, one mirroring bianca’s, on your face as you smile, watching as she nods enthusiastically. “okay!”
karting was easy—that much you figured out early—and it was fun, especially since it wasn’t uncommon for you and bianca to face head to head during races, swapping p1 and p2 every other weekend. not only did it give you an excuse to leave classes with your bestfriend, but you felt accomplished, being able to finally participate in something that hadn’t really required colors to be understood. though sometimes, you felt it. maybe it was during the occasional podium celebration or mid-race, this incessant tug and a split-second flash of colors before it all faded away again. but you always kept it a secret, after all, you didn’t know why it was happening, so why bother anyone with the information?
your fist pumped in the air, another trophy in hand as you stood on the tallest step of the podium, bianca on your side as you cheered, listening to the cheering from your family. you got down, all bright smiles as you weaved through the crowd, finding the soft embrace of your parents. “oh stellina mia…” you heard your mom sniffle through tears and you looked up at her with wide, glassy eyes, bottom lip quivering as you shifted your focus to your dad, “ce l'ho fatta! mamma, papà, are you proud?” your voice wavered slightly, “oh tesoro mia, of course we are…you are our blessing,” your dad hugged you tightly, patting your back as you sniffled into his shoulder, tension easing from your muscles as you finally relaxed. you felt another body—your mother—join the two of you in your embrace, encasing you in middle of their hold. you stayed there for a few seconds, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment wrapped in your parents’ arms, before it happened again. it was sharper this time, a stabbing sensation on your temple causing your eyes to widen, the color of your environment flashing before your eyes, then quickly disappearing. your father pulled you away from himself first, eyebrows furrowing as he took in your pained expression, “what happened?” you wave him off, twisting your body to get his palms off your shoulders, “nothing…just a headache papà, non preoccuparti,” you smiled, tightly gripping your trophy as another colorful burst filled your eyes, “come on! we have to get this home!”
AGE FOURTEEN, EARLY 2020
the world of motorsports was never built for women, you realized. no matter the pace you set forward, the laps you led, or the number of times you had out-podiumed boys, so long as you hadn’t received that y chromosome, it wasn’t enough. or at least, that’s what nearly everyone relayed to you and bianca, but you never listened. after all, they were so busy watching you, they had forgot to train their own kids to be better.
the call came in the winter, a joint-family dinner between you and bianca’s immediate relatives taking place. the sound of forks scratching against plates and laughter blooming within the dining room an unconventional kind of music to your ears. you looked down at your plate, stabbing the pasta as you shoveled it into your mouth, a happy hum escaping your lips as you chewed. from beneath the table, you felt the playful kick of another, looking up to glance at bianca who sat across from you. “bia!” you giggled, laughter overlapping your grandparents as you kicked the girl in retaliation. you watched as a smile stretched across her face, finger pointing to her empty plate, “come to the kitchen with me!” she beamed a toothy smile, one you couldn’t say no to as your parents ushered the both of you, “mangia, mangia! che ti sei troppo magra stellina,” your mother patted your back, pushing you gently off your chair as you retrieved your plate from the table.
the coolness of the kitchen tiles sparked chills down your body as you stepped into the room, heading straight for the pot that lay on the stovetop. you could hear the soft patter of bia’s footsteps behind you, then her proceeding yelp as she stepped on the tiles of the floor. you laughed at her surprise, “you okay?” you asked teasingly, hand reaching for the wooden spoon that rested on the counter before stirring the pot of pasta slowly. “yep…” she grimaced, slotting beside you and placing her plate down beside the stovetop. you scooped up a portion for yourself, plating the noodles gently before handing the spoon to bianca. you walked off to the kitchen island, leaning against it as you watch your best friend whilst forking your pasta. “are you excited for this season?” she asks, and your eyes flicker to her’s, where she stands in front of you, head cocked sideways, a questioning expression on her face. “it’s still january, bia, we have months before we kart again…” you set your fork down, the steel clinking with the porcelain of the plate, “i just wish we were moving onto single seaters already-” your phone buzzing in your pocket interrupts your words, and you fish it out of your pocket, eyes narrowing when you tilt the device so bianca can see, the number is unfamiliar, and everything in you is telling you to answer. your best friend’s brow quirks in curiosity, “pick up!” you nod, lifting your phone near your ear, “pronto?”
“pronto, buonasera, am i speaking with yn ln?” involuntarily, you nod your head before realizing the woman on the other end of the line can’t see you, “yes, this is she,” you confirm, eyebrows knitting together as you try and decipher why she must be calling, you haven’t been in trouble in school, nor do you really have anything going wrong to concern your doctor’s office, and it’s definitely not one of your other friends’ mothers, so why is this woman calling you? you watch as bianca points to the phone, mouthing who is it?, and you shrug, the answer unknown to yourself too. “ah, hello! i’m noemi, calling from mercedes’ junior team, are you free for a moment?” her voice rings through your ears, your hand’s grip on your phone loosening for a moment in shock, the mercedes junior team? they’re calling you? your fingers tighten their grip onto your device again, your voice shaky as you answer, “uh…yes! give me one moment,” you hear her chirp a take your time! as you mute yourself, dropping the phone on the kitchen island, eyes wide as you look back up at your best friend. “mercedes’ junior team is calling me, right now. me!” your voice carries a sense of disbelief as you watch bianca’s face light up with excitement, “oh my goodness, we have to tell your family!” she beams, smile wide and toothy as she shoves your phone back into your hand, her fingers digging into your forearm as she pulls you back towards the dining room table.
home seems quieter, air thick with suspense once you enter your bedroom with your parents. your head falls atop your father’s shoulder as you sit beside him on the carpeted ground, placing your phone on the ground and unmuting, letting out a shaky breath as you call out, “pronto? noemi?” the other line crackles to life and your heart feels like it’ll beat out of your chest, “pronto! as i was saying, i’m calling directly from the mercedes junior team with a proposition today. recently, the team has taken interest in your journey of karting and we wanted to offer you a spot within our junior team,” your breath hitches as you listen to the representative’s words, “joining us would result in entering you in the italian f4 championship for the upcoming 2021 year under prema. and while the transition to single-seaters is scary, we’d be more than happy to help you adjust-” “yes!” you cut her off, “sorry…sorry, i’d be more than thrilled to join for the next year,” you smile, looking back and forth between your parents as you all but cheer audibly. you hear the bubbly giggle of noemi on the other line, “lovely, we’ll get everything set up then and meet soon, alright?” “thank you, thank you so much!” you beam, voice raising as pure excitement floods you, “le auguro una buona serata, yn, congratulations!” you say your thanks, breathing a sigh of relief as the other end goes dead. you look up, eyes filling with happy tears as your parents turn their bodies, embracing you in a tight hold, “siamo così fieri di te, tesoro mia,” your father whispers in your ear, his hand petting the back of your head as your glassy eyes wet his shoulder.
after a few minutes, you slip out of your bedroom, footsteps light as you patter around, looking for your best friend. you find her, back faces towards you as she scrolls on her phone on your family’s couch. stealthily, your hands grip her shoulders, a sharp yelp escaping get lips as her head whips around, eyes locking onto your’s. instantly, her face brightens with excitement, her hand gripping onto your forearm as she pulls you onto the couch to sit beside her, “tell me everything!” you playfully roll your eyes at her words, but not before grinning, “they called me to recruit me into the italian f4 championship under prema!” you beam, eyes crinkling as you retell the full story to the filipina. “…and then she said that she’d meet with us soon, i’m just…i can’t believe this is really happening,” your voice tapers off at the end of your sentence, the relief of finally getting what you’ve dreamed for settling in. you feel as bianca’s arms wrap around you, embracing you tightly as she whispers in your ear, “i’m so proud of you,” her tone is soft as she pulls away, eyes boring into your own as a toothy grin makes its way onto her face. “maybe…maybe this’ll be your breakthrough to finding your soulmate!” you swat her hands off of you as you watch her eyebrows wiggle in amusement, “shut up, bia!”
silence settles between you and your best friend as the two of you sit together, phones in hand, yet your mind is somewhere else. your body turns unconsciously, facing the filipina as you open your mouth, a quizzical expression on your face, “do you really think i’ll find my soulmate? like anytime soon?” your voice wavers, a sense of doom developing in your chest. you watch as bianca’s face doesn’t leave her phone, “yn, almost everyone finds their soulmate, it’s practically inevitable,” her eyes finally look towards you as she drops her phone, a hand raising to your cheek and pinching it. “you have nothing to worry about,” you nod at her words, letting out a shaky breath, “but making eye contact? it just seems impossible,” you say incredulously, your voice becoming smaller as you continue, “recently…during these races, whenever i’m on the podium, i just…” your hands fly up, imitating an explosion in front of your eyes as you try and convey your experiences, “get these colorful like…bursts? and then a massive headache…and i just, i just don’t know what it means, is that weird?” you ask, biting the inside of your cheek, heat rising to your cheeks as you notice bianca’s slack jawed expression.
“yn…you’ve been seeing color? and you haven’t TOLD ME?” her voice raises an octave at your confession, phone dropped on her lap as you slap a hand over her mouth. “bia!” you whisper-shout, speaking through gritted teeth, “i haven’t told anyone! i never knew what it meant so there wasn’t no point in telling anyone!” your hand drops from her mouth and you watch how her expression contorts into different faces before settling on a quirked brow, “you…don’t know what it means?” her words drag out, laced with disbelief as you shake your head, eyebrows knitting together. “it means that you were close to your soulmate, whether it be 1 meter or 100, it like…changes per person!” a smile grows on her face as she explains, hands flying around in excitement before landing on your shoulders and shaking them. “yn! this is so exciting! how many times has this happened? did it always happen during races? you have to tell me everything!” her tone is filled with pure joy on your behalf, hand already gripping your forearm to lead you to your bedroom. you giggle, smiling at her excitement as you let her lead you to your room.
AGE FIFTEEN, MID 2021
single-seaters feel like second nature. the comfort of the cars, the piercing smell of burnt rubber and petrol, and the anticipation mixed with anxiety before a race, it all felt like home. prema welcomed you with open arms, and under the guidance of the mercedes junior team, you truly felt like you belonged. yet sometimes, an unexplainable sharp pain would shoot through your head, a flurry of colors appearing right before your eyes as you would sit in meeting rooms surrounded by others in black and teal. you’d look around, bianca’s information swirling in your head, neck snapping to see if anyone experienced the same sensation, but it never came. oh well, you’d think to yourself, bigger things were ahead of you than a stupid soulmate. you think it was then when you stopped caring, when you realized that everyone had to be full of shit in saying that the majority of the world would find their soulmate, because no matter the amount of times you’d seen the small flashes of color, you never made eye contact with him.
your debut wasn’t outstanding, wasn’t what was expected after years and years of winning karting championships, it was borderline embarrassing. the articles wrote themselves: female karting champion falling short?, yn ln’s disappointing debut, from karting dominance to single-seater failure: ln’s performance in italy’s f4 championship. the circuit paul ricard was unforgiving, high speed corners and a chicane practically shredding you to pieces, the three races landing you in a puddle of disappointment: 30/37, 27/37, 29/37. sure, they weren’t terrible results, definitely not for a young woman, but it stung. your last performance in france left you with curses springing from your mouth as you retired the race, teeth clenched and biting the inside of your cheek. your helmet stayed perched on your head for far too long, the fire behind your eyes unmistakable as you found yourself back home, knees tucked under your chin as you stared a hole into the wall. you had to do better.
misano blessed you, P5. P5 in qualifying against a grid of nearly 40 other drivers. your heart raced as you hoisted yourself down into your seat, a grin behind your colorful helmet as you looked around your garage. you watched as your parents found themselves leaning over your car, glassy eyes staring down at you as your father patted your shoulder, “rendici orgogliosi, tesoro mia,” your mother nods, placing a kiss on the middle of your helmet, tapping it lightly, “ti voglio bene, stellina,” in the distance, you can hear one of your team members shouting, a yell signalling that you’re ready to go and your head snaps in that direction. you watch from your peripheral as your parents step away from your car and you quickly snap your visor down, it’s time.
your car zips down the strait of the misano world circuit, your eyes locking onto the familiar workers dressed in a medium shade of gray, their uniforms labelled with prema. you watch as their fists pump in the air as you fly by the checkered flag. for a moment, it doesn’t register, until you look back in front of you. that’s two cars, you’re in disbelief, eyes wide as your brows furrow in an attempt to understand, only two cars in front of you. that means you’re third. third on a grid filled with nearly 40 other men. you bark out a laugh, a grin so wide you feel your cheeks hurt with the ache of happiness combined with excitement. “P3!” you shout despite the soreness of your throat—and the fact that no one can hear you except yourself—as you drive your way back to the parc fermé.
tears well up in your eyes—your mask becoming damp as one rolls down your cheek—as your name is announced, your footsteps light as you jog your way to the podium. you stand proudly, eyes searching the crowd before landing on your parents, their eyes crinkling as they wave to you. you listen as the two other names are called, the podium celebration stretching on for far too long before you’re able to pick up the sparkling wine beside you, spraying the other drivers excitedly and giggling to yourself as you’re doused with the bubbly liquid. the fizzy drink lands in your hair, sticking to your race suit, and blurring your vision as you make your way down from the podium, a beaming smile on your face as you’re met with the embrace of your parents.
the day quiets after your celebration, the thought of two more races in misano making your stomach churn as you lay awake in your bed. you flip under the covers, the moonlight illuminating the analog clock that rests atop the nightstand beside you, 11:46 pm. sighing, you pick up your phone, unlocking it and watching the flood of messages pop up in your notification center. you ignore them, smiling as you find yourself flipping through news articles, pride weighing heavy on your chest as you read through the various headlines. young yn ln makes history in f4!, another milestone in motorsports: a stunning performance by ln, masterclass defending and karting champion yn ln’s first podium in f4, it all makes you feel on top of the world. you set your phone back down, a small smile making its way across your face as you close your eyes, hard work truly does pay off, and it’s only the beginning.
AGE SEVENTEEN, LATE 2023
it’s similar to how you first joined the mercedes junior team, this call. you’re sat with your parents at the dining table once again, a comfortable silence enveloping the room as the sun stands tall, casting warm shadows across the floorboards. it’s different in the sense it’s less chaotic, the house more worn in, the cutlery adorned with more scratches due to overuse. you stand, hips and knees cracking in a way that causes you to let out a short laugh despite yourself, “must be all the sitting i do,” you murmur, your parents letting out a ripple of laughter at your comment. the chair scratches against the grained wood of the floor as you push it flush against the table, plate in hand as you slip your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, heading towards the kitchen. the cool tile still causes goosebumps to prickle across your skin as your socked foot comes into contact with the ceramic; but you continue, padding your way towards the sink and turning the hot water knob, the gush of water spraying within the steel basin. you place your plate inside, your other hand reaching within your sweats to toss your phone on the island behind you. you pay no mind to the device as it clatters against the marble, your focus turning towards back to your sink as you lift your hand to retrieve the sponge slotted in its respective tray. the sound of water rushing drowns out any other sort of noise as you lather your dish with soap before rinsing it, careful to grip it as to not let it slip between your fingers. finally, you place it in the dishrack, drying your hands with a few paper towels before grabbing your phone. it lights up, a lone notification on your home screen, a missed call. your hands fumble as you open the phone app, your fingers gripping the device, lifting it to your ear as you listen to the voicemail, “buongiorno yn! this is noemi calling from mercedes about a new opportunity! if you could just give me a call back at…”
“f1 academy!” your shout echoes through the air as you sprint back into the dining room, cutting through the silence. your parents shoot you bewildered looks as you continue, “i’m,” your chest heaves as you stop abruptly, phone held high above your head. “i’m racing in f1 academy next year!” your voice carries a heavy sense of excitement, eyes twinkling with a sharp look of determination as you make eye contact with your parents. your heart flips, a second year in italy’s f4 championship and your participation in this year’s formula regional european championship had been anything but kind to you, and this call may as well had been a manifested miracle come to life. you watch as your mother’s hands fly to her face, joy and surprise mixed together into her expression as she covers her mouth in joy. a small, knowing smile creeps onto your father’s face, his arms crossing as pride fills his eyes, a sigh he doesn’t seem to know he was holding escaping him. your feet move before your brain can catch up, your body barrelling between your parents as you let out a shaky sigh in relief. you swallow down a choked sob as you listen to your father, “done it again haven’t you, tesoro mia?”
2023 is decisively ended with a party, hosted by your parents. a tradition, they claim, one that has been passed around your small neighborhood for many years, your mother states. you shrug, mindlessly nodding as they speak to you, “and we could celebrate your soon-to-be debut for f1 academy!” your eyes widen as your mom claps excitedly, your father nodding as he stands behind her. “and have all our neighbors celebrate me? absolutely not! they’ll all be nosy and ask when i’ll find my boyfriend as if its not extremely rare!” you watch as your mother scoffs playfully, shooing you off with her hands as she listens to your words, “the nonnas are just asking stellina! non farci caso!” you groan, head flying back against the back of the couch you sit on, your mom definitely will not listen to your pleas. “can i at least bring bia?” you ask, eyes closed as you await an answer, “sì sì! tell her to invite her whole family!” you nod in response, absentmindedly murmuring a small will do as you scroll through your phone.
the celebration comes a few weeks later, december 31, 2023, a sunday. it isn’t anything like the american college parties on tv or nightclubs in ibiza on social media; it’s small, quaint, and filled with your neighbors in fancy dresses and tuxedos that probably cost more than your racing career. you greet the guests, clad in a dress that looks and feels expensive, a smile adorning your face as you exchange cheek kisses with the various grandparents that walk through the door. you’re momentarily stunned as you’re pulled into a tight hug, the embrace almost knocking the wind out of you before you’re able to pull apart. “bia! so glad you made it,” a soft, genuine smile snakes its way onto your face and you watch how the filipina’s eyes roll playfully, swatting your bare shoulders slightly. “as if i would ever miss it! i still can’t believe we’ll be driving together!” she smiles, all teeth on display as she hooks arms with you, dragging you away from the door. the two of you share laughs, clink drink glasses together, and exchange wide grins throughout the night, and it’s all perfect, that is if you didn’t count the piercing headaches and consistent flashes of bright, vivid colors.
the reoccuring tug of pain brings you in and out of reality, bright and unfamiliar colors you’ve only seen for a couple of moments at a time retain in your vision for longer and more vividly. you take a moment in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror as you watch the flicker of pigments pop out and stay for longer than a few seconds before disappearing and resurfacing again, the cycle repeating with every minute. your head pounds with the ache of keeping in the pain, a grimace on your face as you swallow a few painkillers stored in the cupboard’s corner, okay, you should get back out there. you step out of the bathroom, kitten heels clicking against the tiled floor of your home, and instantly you feel your senses dialed up to a ten. you nearly stumble, everything in your home is so lively, it’s foreign. the colors dance in front of your eyes, rendering you speechless as you whip your head around, taking in the unfamiliar shades of pigments you barely remember. but it’s gone in an instant. your shoulder is knocked by someone, and your vision fades back to the dull colors of gray. your neck nearly snaps, watching as the curly-haired male walks off, native italian spewing from his mouth as he speaks on the phone, and for a moment it all comes back as you look at the back of his head, the color, the shades, the vividness of it all, it’s him.
your jaw drops and your body stills unnaturally, it has to be him, right? you think, watching as he walks out of your door. your feet begin moving before you can even think coherently, your mind occupied with the fading image of your possible soulmate. your ankles nearly break and you shuffle through crowds and groups of guests, muttering numerous apologies and stepping on at least three pairs of shoes before you’re even able to make it to your door, and you practically rip it off its hinges, chest heaving as the cold evening air of bologna kisses your cheeks. your head moves, to the right, to the left, again and again until you fall onto the steps of your stairs, knees pulled up to your chest as tears stain your cheeks. he’s not out here, and you were so close.
the night dwindles down slowly, hugs goodbye and whispers of thanks for attendance exchanged between you and the guests that exit your home. you change eventually, peeling off your dress and changing into a comfortable pair of pajamas. a heavy ache sits in your chest, the feeling of both disappointment and yearning settling within your bones, its an uncomfortable feeling. you’re staring at the ceiling, tucked into bed as you begin to think, what if he knew too, but just didn’t want to say anything to you? you shake your head, flipping onto your side, now staring at the wall, this is now the first time you’ve ever gotten so close to your soulmate, and it slipped through your fingers so effortlessly. you blink, the feeling of tears welling into your eyes and brain fog setting into your mind unbearable. you hate this, you realize, the whole soulmate thing is so incredibly dumb. but you can’t help it as you spiral, quiet sobs wracking your body just as tears bleed into your pillowcases, what if you’d never find him again?
AGE EIGHTEEN, LATE 2024
“that’s it! yn you are the 2024 f1 academy world champion! congratulations!” “OH MY GOODNESS! OH MY GOD! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! WOOOOOO!” the scream rips through your throat, your fist pumping in the air as tears well up behind your helmet, “this is unreal, thank you to the team! wow, i just cannot believe it!” your accent becomes thicker as you speak into the radio, voice wavering ever so slightly as you lap the track, the growing cheer of fans fueling your excitement. you shake your head in disbelief as you drive the car into parc fermé, your chest fluttering excitedly as you hoist yourself out of the car, your fist raising in the air as you grin widely underneath your mask. you hop off, walking towards your runner up, landing a crisp pat on her back. “you did great out there, dorianne, i can’t wait to see you next year!” you watch as she takes off her helmet, her happiness practically radiating off of her, “no congratulations to you! you were amazing this season,” she beams, a grin on her face as she pulls you into a tight embrace. your heart flutters, and smiling fondly, you pull away, giving her a last pat on the back, “do mercedes well next year, i believe in you.”
abu dhabi is beautiful from here, you think, your feet planted on the highest step of the podium as you tune out the background noise of fans. finally, you’re snapped back to reality as your handed your well-earned trophy, a grin stretched from ear to ear plastered on your face as you thrust it into the sky, glassy tears blurring your vision. you set it down, grabbing the large bottle of sparkling liquid that sits beside your podium step, before you hammer it into the ground, spraying the drink onto the other drivers. you laugh as it gets caught in your hair, sticking onto your race suit, and annihilating your vision, its a true victory for you.
the moment is reminiscent of when you were fifteen and received the first female podium in italian f4’s history. you lie awake, the excitement and adrenaline from the day slowly fading. you can hear the faint sounds of crickets and the occasional revving of a car, but its peaceful. you reach for your phone, slapping your nightstand and wincing before you eventually find it. you flick the device on, the brightness of the screen making you grimace as you scroll, but it’s soon replaced by a content smile as you read. f1 academy’s champion; where will she go next?, yn ln’s record breaking season in f1 academy, a masterclass in motorsport: ln is crowned champion!. you let out a huff, mind swirling with thoughts, you really didn’t know where you’d be next.
it happens slowly, the pull from it all. you revel in the joy and success afterwards, but its doesn’t stick anymore; you’re eighteen and you feel like you’ve given up already. the articles pop up intermittently, when will ln return to motorsports?, is it over for 2024 f1 academy champion?, where is yn ln?. you address it quietly, a post on your socials. you’re sat in your bed, a comfortable jumper on as you speak to the camera that lies in front of you. “i’ve decided that i no longer want to continue my racing journey.” you pause, breathing out slowly in an attempt to regain your composure, “i wish to focus on other projects, and while i’ll remain in the motorsport world, i no longer will be in the seat driving.” you smile at the camera, “i hope you can all understand and respect my wishes. thank you for being here alongside my journey.” you end the video there, uploading it and tossing your phone aside.
you feel lighter somehow. your laughter travels through the city of bologna, your shoes clicking against gravel as you skip, arm in arm with bianca. she knows, you can tell by the look in her eye, but she doesn’t say anything, doesn’t push or pry, doesn’t involve herself in your, no doubt a difficult, choice. the coil snaps during a shared coffee rush, “will you still come with me? to races i mean…” he fingers fiddle with the straw off her drink, eyes not meeting your own as she asks the question. your reply comes automatic, “i wouldn’t miss it for the world bia! that’s our thing!” your hands intertwine with her’s, a soft smile adorning your lips as your eyes gaze into her own. you watch as she lets out a breath of relief, a grin mirroring your own snaking onto her face. once the ice breaks, conversation becomes easier, the ache in your chest disappears as you traverse the streets of bologna, the city glittering with beauty despite your lack of color perception. you and your best friend walk side by side, humming a tune familiar and nostalgic and your head moves to face her. “should we get lunch?”
the thing about soulmate connection is that everyone experiences it differently. for example, your father had an almost second puberty adjacent soulmate connection. when he was five he and your mother would swap places, it was only brief seconds during the day, but it happened, and absolutely nothing came of it. people say that the fate gets tired of waiting, and will push those meant to be together. and so, when your father turned twenty four, he was granted with another connection with his soulmate: brief dreams that contained your mother, where she’d be in the morning and what her routine looked like. “it was supernatural,” your father claimed, “i slept one day and woke up knowing exactly where to find your mother,” it was almost as if fate pulled them together, exhausted of watching the two dance around each other, unknowing of how close their distance truly was. your mother contrarily claimed she never experienced the second coming of the soulmate connection, firmly believing that your father was simply meant to find her. now, you think you get it, maybe fate was sick of waiting.
the restaurant is packed, children screeching, the clinking of silverware, the raised voices of both staff and customers, it’s almost all too much. “party of two, bustamante?” bianca grabs your hand as she hears the host utter her last name, guiding you to the stand as the worker looks you both up and down. you’re luckily tucked into a corner of the restaurant, safely away from the cries of babies and complaints from the elderly nonnas. you whisper a small thank you to your waitress, ordering your preferred drink as she skitters off. you grab the coupled menu, handing one to the filipina, watching as she grins and takes it from your hands. you notice how her eyes flicker downward, they widen then flit to you, her hand grasping the middle of your forearm. “yn…what is this?” your eyebrow raises at her question, your eyes slowly moving towards your inner arm, then you see it. in a faint, fineline font, are three letters, AKA. it’s almost like an aged tattoo, a meaningful one that you might’ve gotten years ago, but it isn’t. not only do you have no recollection of receiving the tattoo, but it burns, the type of sensation that feels like it was branded into your skin. “oh…” you whisper out, pulling your arm away from your best friend, fingers tracing the letters slowly, wincing as you press into the mark. your vision becomes vibrant with colors as you do, your senses overstimulating for just a moment until the pad of your fingers lift away from your inner wrist, releasing the pressure. “it’s rare,” you start, letting your arm fall onto the cloth adorned table, “but my papa had a second wave of soulmate connection, or at least i think that’s what it is,” you let out a small laugh despite yourself and the absurdity of the situation, eyes tired as you place your chin in your hand, gazing at bianca across from you, “maybe fate’s sick of waiting.”
it’s a couple weeks later when the mark burns with an intensity that feels as severe as resting your hand on a hot plate. it comes in sharp, violent bursts, and it almost feels as though your hand will fall off in any second. you drop your phone, the screen still illuminating your dark room as you grip your wrist, a painful cry falling from your lips. fuck this stupid mark! you think, chest tightening as you endure the pain, eyes squeezing tightly as shallow breaths escape you. slowly, the burning subsides, and your eyes open, searching for your phone on the ground in the sea of darkness that envelops your room, safe for the moonlight that slowly trickles in through a gap in your curtain. your brows knit as you grab the device, your wrist throbbing, not with pain, not with discomfort, but a third, foreign and rather odd feeling. your finger must’ve slipped, you think, staring at the article in front of you. it’s an older one, written and published a few months ago by some american source, you assume. your heart skips a beat as you scroll through the photos of the newsletter, andrea kimi antonelli to replace lewis hamilton at mercedes. you had known, of course. the name passed around the chain of command, but only as ‘kimi,’ nothing more. you swipe more, analyzing his face, his demeanor, his hair- wait, what? that looks, awfully familiar… your thoughts trail mindlessly, scouring your mind to why his hair of all features looks so seemingly recognizable. it clicks a few seconds later, it’s him, the man at your end of year party, the one who got away, and you’re positive he has be your soulmate.
AGE EIGHTEEN, MARCH 2025
how do you even approach your soulmate? will it be an instant connection like in the books? are you considered crazy for flying all the way out here? what if he wants nothing to do with you? why is he famous for goodness sake?! the questions run through your mind, clawing at your brain for answers, yet not a single answer prevails. the australian grand prix is chaotic, you realize, the opening race being one you feel everyone in the country must be following, but it’s important for the new rookies too, including kimi. it’s been a good three months, ones of quiet away from the revving of engines, the stinging smell of petrol, but the gates welcome you the same. the cheers of fans make you smile widely, you wave hello as you pass by, sign an occasional piece of merch, take a photo with a supporter, the rush of it all makes you feel at home.
you walk through the paddock, the familiarity of it all making you let out a breath of happiness as you bask in the slight rainfall that kisses your skin. you strut into the mercedes motorhome, greeting engineers and workers briefly before making your way to a quiet section of the garage. its t-minus five minutes until the race begins, your eyes fixed on the telemetry data that is soon to pop up on the tv in front of you. you feel a hand on your shoulder suddenly, your head whipping around, only to make eye contact with your former boss’ husband. “ah toto!” you smile, moving the headset from over your ears to the side of your head as you watch the austrian grin uncharacteristically. he pulls you into a tight hug, squeezing you slightly before letting go, hands remaining on your shoulders as he stares at you, almost fatherly adjacent. “mein mädchen! i am so proud, are you here to visit me?” his voice is light and teasing, as if he won’t be yelling in two minutes time about god knows what. you smile, letting out a fond laugh as you look up at him, grin mirroring his, “sure, sure!” you pat his shoulder, laughing internally at the height difference. you feel as he pulls back, an engineer calling him from another side of the motorhome and you smile again, shooing him away as he shouts incoherently over his shoulder. you can only nod in response, not really listening to what he says as your hearing diminishes, the headset you reposition properly over your head nullifying the sounds around you, and the only noise you hear comes from the car on the other end of the radio as the lights go out.
you think you’re going to pass out, honestly. the race has been nothing short of chaotic; its truly dnf after dnf, and your stomach churns wrongly thinking about what’ll happen to kimi during these next laps. you hold your breath as you watch the final laps play out, your fingernails digging into your palms as your eyes stay fixed upon the screen in front of you. suddenly, you hear the cheers erupt around you, and a small grin makes its way across your face, p4 on his debut race. your hands fly to your face, glassy eyes watching how kimi laps the circuit once more, its nothing short of unbelievable.
you can’t do it. your stomach flips at the idea, the notion of finally meeting your soulmate too much for your mind to contain, you have to leave the paddock. quickly, you grab your purse, swinging it over your shoulder as you pat yourself down, ensuring you won’t have to return back to the motorhome. your eyes remain fixed on the ground below you as you swiftly turn, but immediately, you bump into something, oh, someone. your neck nearly snaps at the rate you lift your head up, and you let out a breath of relief, blue eyes boring into your own as he smiles, luckily, it’s just george. your mind is on autopilot as you greet him, a soft smile on your face as he pulls you tightly into a hug. “how are you? still lingering around the sport huh?” he gestures around the garage, grinning teasingly, “can’t get enough of the mercedes family?” you roll your eyes playfully, “you know it,” your lips lift unconsciously, but the smile doesn’t reach your eyes as the pounding in your chest intensifies the more you speak with the brit. “hey why don’t you join us? just for dinner, i’m sure toto would like to see you again, and you could meet kimi! you two are the same age, no?” george’s suggestion seems like hell on earth considering your situation at hand, but you only let out a forced laugh, rubbing the nape of your neck sheepishly. “ah, i already saw toto, thank you though! besides i’ve got to get going anyway…i’ll see you again though, and congrats on the podium!” you blurt out the words faster than your mind can catch up, already turning on your heel. you hear him shout something behind you, but it doesn’t matter now, your mind racing a million thoughts a minute, you hope he’s still in the media pen and that you have enough time to escape. each thought comes more incoherently than the last as you speedwalk out of the motorhome. though, your attempt falls short as you manage to bump into someone again. only this time, your world seems to become brighter as you make eye contact with the stranger.
the moment you make eye contact with kimi, the world seems to stop, narrowing down to that very moment, where you two stand across from each other, mouths agape. your mark that lingers on the inside of your wrist burns with an intensity you haven’t felt before, and the various colors that remain in your vision nearly knock you off your feet. you watch as the italian’s mouth opens and closes, pointing between the two of you, “you…i…we’re soulmates?!” he nearly screeches, voice raising an octave as he probably experiences the same things you are. you nod sheepishly, speaking suddenly feeling like sandpaper against your throat as you attempt to voice your words, but they never fall from your mouth. you watch as he takes two strides towards you, now standing a mere half meter apart from you, “can i…hug you?” his words are hesitant as his arms lift around you, careful not to touch you yet, as if you’re made of porcelain. you give a small nod, eyes shutting tight as you feel his hands fall against the small of your back, arms encasing you within his hold. a relieved breath falls from you, the physical contact easing a part of you that you hadn’t realized was tense. you two stay like that for a minute, basking in the moment, the sacredness of it all seemingly connecting the two of you even more than you could’ve ever imagined possible. he pulls away first, grin stretching across his face as he stares down at you, “so, now what?”
AGE NINETEEN, LATE 2025
you’re roused awake by the soft, almost imperceptible sound of the crackle of oil against cookware and the soft hums of a familiar voice. the smell of some sort of sweet breakfast food wafting its way into your nose before you manage to even open your eyes, bright rays of sunshine already illuminating your vision from behind your eyelids. your arm feels heavy as you pat the space around you, your bed cold safe for the indent beside you where your boyfriend once lay. slowly, your eyes open, the vivid colors decorating your shared bedroom catching your attention first before you register the note on your nightstand, come downstairs :). you giggle as you read the poorly written note, willing yourself to sit up and stretch before slotting your socked feet into a pair of slippers and padding your way through your apartment, down into the kitchen.
kimi smiles to himself as he hears the soft sound of footsteps descending your apartment’s stairs, the pan in his hand sizzling with a fluffy pancake he’s made especially for you. winter break is good with you, he thinks, back turned against the kitchen island where he hears you creak onto the seat, eyes boring into his back as he cooks, humming noncommittally. he flips the pancake over, grinning at the perfect color as he pushes it onto the plate beside him that sits on the counter. he quickly turns off the stove, the smell of gas dissipating from the air as he turns to you, a wide grin on his face as he places the dish in front of you, sliding beside you as his arms wrap around your body, his head resting in the space between your head and shoulder. “enjoy amore mio,” he murmurs into your skin, pressing a soft kiss into the sensitive skin of your neck, a smile forming as you squirm away from him. laughter falls from your lips as he pulls away, your head turning to face him, your giggles still echoing throughout the shared apartment as you pinch his cheek affectionately. “grazie amore,” he watches as you lean in as you speak your words, a kiss landing squarely onto his cheek before you pull away, eyes refocusing on the food in front of you. kimi’s head falls into his palm as he watches you eat, a small, genuine smile lingering on his face, god was he lucky.
winter break means more time with your boyfriend, which furthermore means that you two spend every waking moment together. midday has you and kimi tangled up on the couch in your shared apartment, the tv in front of the two of you playing some mindless movie both of you couldn’t care less about. you’re swirling designs across his forearms unconsciously, back to his chest as his arms remain wrapped around you, unmoving and allowing you to have your way with him. your voice then breaks the comfortable silence that wraps the living room together, “do you ever think we could’ve met earlier?” it’s a question that’s been embedded into your mind ever since you met the f1 driver, and you feel as he lets out a hefty breath, arms tightening you further in his hold, “yeah, i was there for your debut party, just never made eye contact because i was too nervous,” your head tilts upwards to look at the italian, a grin plastered onto your face as the confession settles into your mind, “nervous of me?” you giggle, and the conversation flows fluidly afterwards, the topics ranging from soulmates to racing, and you can’t help but feel a sense of pure affection blooming in your chest as you listen to the accented voice of your boyfriend, fate does have its way, even if its eventual.
the day proceeds like any other during winter break, dinner from another take out place you’ve been itching to try, matching face masks, small kisses exchanged in the comfort of your own space; the domesticity is refreshing, and you realize its all you’ve ever wanted. as the day dwindles down, vibrant, sunset-like colors decorating the floors and walls of your shared home through translucent curtains, you sit with kimi, bodies molding together in each other’s hold. his breaths come soft as his fingers tangle in your hair, petting the top of your head lovingly as his other arm rests along your waist, drawing miscellaneous patterns. his lips press soft kisses on your cheeks down to the sensitive skin of your neck, curls tickling you as he nuzzles impossibly closer to you. “i love you,” the proclamation vibrates against your skin, and you feel your heartstrings tug as his arms wrap around you tighter. you push from him slightly, fingers finding themselves underneath his chin as you tilt his head away from your chest to make eye contact with you. “i love you too, kimi,” you confess quietly, your head moving to close the gap between the two of you. the kiss shared is everything you’d wished for when you were younger, the soulmate connection between you both seemingly becoming stronger as your lips connect. his lips taste like cherries and something tangy, the sweetness of the kiss becoming addictive just as he pulls away. his eyelids lay heavy on his eyes, and his head dips down back into the comfort of your chest, shallow sighs leaving his lips. you feel as he presses a kiss to your collarbone before his breathing evens out, arms tightening around you as if you’ll disappear. your fingers find home in his hair as they brush through his curls, a small smile on your face as you plant a kiss into the crown of his head. the sun seems to stay just for that moment, illuminating the room in saturated orange and yellow tones before it sets, and you can faintly hear the chirps of birds and laughter of people outside as you mold your body even closer to kimi. fate has a funny way of working.
summary : oscar is one of lambda chi alpha’s most sought-after brothers, too bad he’s attached to the hip with his girlfriend
pairing : frat boy!oscar piastri x reader
lina’s radio : ngl this is barely a frat boy oscar but its okay!! definitely not my fav work only bcs my writing sucked for this one, but i hope you guys enjoy nonetheless!
ynln and oscarpiastri added to their stories
alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story convince him to text charles to bring me flowers 😆
⤷ ynln yess ma’am 🫡
user82 replied to your story OMG HE’S THE SWEETESTTT
user16 replied to your story omg the choice of flowers im crying that’s so cute 🥹🥹🥹
flavy.barla replied to your story have you studied for our math test yet???? i need help
⤷ ynln i can drop by your’s tmrw lmk !!
⤷ flavy.barla you’re a lifesaver 🤍🤍
user73 replied to your story IF HE WANTED TO HE WOULD!!!!
oscarpiastri replied to your story i love you ❤️
⤷ ynln hehe 💓💓
landonorris replied to oscarpiastri’s story ur so down bad 😂😂
⤷ oscarpiastri shut up and start appreciating your girl mate
user17 replied to oscarpiastri’s story POSTING THIS RIGHT AFTER THE TWEETS CAME OUT HELLO???
user40 replied to oscarpiastri’s story OUR**** GIRL
logansargeant replied to oscarpiastri’s story can she bake me cookies again?
⤷ oscarpiastri she said she’d think about it
⤷ logansargeant dang it 🥲
user36 replied to oscarpiastri’s story the flowers you got her omg love 🙌🙌
ynln replied to oscarpiastri’s story my perfect boyf i love youuuu
⤷ oscarpiastri i love you more always
you practically jump out of your lofted bed—causing your roommate, kika, to quirk an eyebrow at your sudden energy—and slip on a pair of comfortable shoes, quickly racing to the door. the sight once you open the door has your heart positively melting. its oscar. he’s standing there with that stupidly soft and beautiful smile, and even from an arms length away you can smell the faint scent of cedarwood and vanilla that clings to him. he’s clad in a slightly too-tight black t-shirt and jeans—its a simple outfit and one he’s worn many times, yet it never fails to make your heart race. and although he’s gorgeous in his own right, the flowers he holds outward to you stun you even further. your voice comes out in a blabber of incoherent words, the mix of shock and pure love blossoming in your chest making it difficult to focus. “they’re beautiful…” your eyes look up to his as you flutter your lashes, grabbing the neatly wrapped bouquet, “thank you, osc,” your voice dies out, a glassy sheen covering your eyes as you pull him into a tight hug.
oscar tightly hugs you back, his hands gripping your waist as he lifts you up from your doorway, spinning you in the air in the hallway. he can hear the crackle of paper and the thump of flowers syncing with your involuntary laugh, he thinks its his favorite sound truly. “oscar! baby let me down!” your laughs reverberate through the empty halls, and chuckling, he sets you down gently. he watches as you play with your hair for a moment, parting it with your fingernails before you huff frustatedly, a strand falling in front of your face. without thinking, he moves it behind your ear, his hand lingering as he cups your face with his hand. “missed you,” he mutters, watching your face bloom with blush before he leans in and kisses you. his heart tugs in familiarity when your lips connect with his; the kiss isn’t rushed, it’s a soft synchronization between the two of you, a connection he’s only ever shared with you. he feels your arms drape around his neck, your breaths growing more shallow as he pulls you closer, your body molding against his. his mind and thoughts are distant, plagued with you as he inhales the faint strawberry chapstick and sickenly sweet perfume before you eventually pull away. he straightens up, eyes still locked on yours as his brain tries catching up back to reality. “missed me a lot, did you, honey?” the petname falls from your lips so easy, a teasing smile forming on your lips as you cock your head to the side, your hair falling across your shoulders. he’s absolutely awestruck with your beauty, you’re so perfect it has him wondering how he could have ever managed to convince you to date him. he opens his mouth to speak, a sassy retort threatening to spill out, but its short lived as a cough breaks through the atmosphere.
your neck nearly breaks with how quickly it snaps to look back, only to find kika standing in the doorway, smiling smugly. she holds your newly-gifted flowers in her hands, lifting them up to her nose and taking in the smell, “gross, either find a room or leave, lovebirds!” she rolls her eyes, sing-songing the words with a playful expression on her face as she turns, walking back into your shared dorm. you move your body back to face your boyfriend, a sheepish smile coming across your face before you open your mouth to speak, but the feeling of his lips brushing against yours for a brief second render you speechless. “i’ll let you get ready, i’ll come back in 15, okay?” he says, smiling at your dumbfounded expression—you assume. “wear something casual, we’re not going far, love you sweetheart,” he pulls you back into his arms, kissing the crown of your head before pulling away. you step on your tippy toes, adjusting your head so you’re able to kiss his cheek, “i love you!” you exclaim, waving goodbye as you slip into the open doorway of your dorm, closing the door behind you. you watch through the peephole as he smiles and nods in approval(?) at the sight of you safely getting into your dorm before he walks away.
you sigh dreamily, your thoughts consumed of the aussie as you rummage through your drawers to find an outfit for tonight’s date. “i put the flowers in a vase for you girl!” you hear kika’s muffled exclamation from under her blanket and you shout back a quick thank you, before continuing to rifle through your tops. you let out a huff of annoyance, rolling your eyes simply at the mass amount of articles of clothing you have, before you finally find a suitable shirt. “finally, my goodness,” you say, slipping the shirt on over your head. you quickly grab the pair of jeans that lay on your desk chair—from a party a couple nights ago—before jumping into them and settling into the seat. you glance down at your watch, 5:23 pm, 12 minutes to do your hair and makeup, easy, right?
you walk out of your dorm room at 5:35 pm on the dot, where oscar stands outside. you quickly shut the door behind you, giggling as he opens his arms, urging you to embrace him. your ear is flat against his rhythmic heart—the sound a soothing melody to your ears, your arms wrapped tightly around his waist as you mumble into his chest, “i missed you,” your eyelashes bat as you crane your neck to look up at him, your breath hitching as you make eye contact with his brown eyes. his lips curve into a smile as he bends down, lightly kissing the top of your forehead, “you saw me 15 minutes ago, pretty girl,” he gently peels you off of him, his hand outstretched to hold yours, and you take it. “doesn’t matter!” you sing-song playfully, a hum escaping your lips as you finish the words, your hand encapsulated in his. his grip is firm, not overbearing, but enough to ground you, to keep you reminded that he’s there. his thumb circles over the back of your hand as he guides you to the end of the hall and clicks the button to open the elevator doors—he’s memorized the path, so much so that he’s told you that he’d probably put money on the fact that he could get to your room blindfolded if he tried hard enough. the ding of the elevator doors causes oscar to step forward, guiding you inside. your fingers fiddle with the buttons in the room, pressing the lobby floor and watching as the doors close with a heavy clunk and the descent begins. you turn around, smiling at the sight of your boyfriend already staring at you, “a picture would last longer, osc!” you tease, reaching up to adjust a strand of hair that falls in front of his face annoyingly. he reaches for his phone that sits in the back pocket of his jeans, handing it to you, “take one for us? so i can post it, i know you hate how i take pictures,” his eyes roll playfully, familiar with your antics when it came to social media. “you know me too well,” you say, snapping a photo just as he kisses your cheek. as you look at the candid you can’t help but smile, your heart filling with a warmth that can only be described as pure love you hold for the man.
oscar holds your hand, guiding you out of the elevator and listening to your shoes tap against carpeted lobby floor. it isn’t busy, he notes, eyes scanning across the numerous students sat studying or chatting with friends. but just as he’s observing his surroundings, he feels your hand release from his quickly, and alarmed, he whips his head to where you previously stood beside him. he lets out a sigh he didn’t realize he was holding at the sight of you embracing his roommate’s girlfriend, magui. he takes a step towards you, snaking an arm around your waist as you animatedly talk about a mutual interest with the blond. he hums, nodding to the familiar girl in greeting before turning his head slightly to give you a kiss on the top of your head. he’s about to open his mouth to tell you that the two of you should head off before he hears a familiar british accent, “mate!” he immediately groans, head diving into the space between your shoulder and neck, and he hears you giggle softly, “hey lando, sorry about stealing your girlfriend!” he feels you move to hug the brit, and he straightens up, making eye contact with the curlyhead man just as he lets go of you, his arm draping on the shoulder of his girlfriend. “where are the two of you headed off to at this hour?” there’s a teasing tone in lando’s voice that oscar is able to pick up as the inquiry travels to his ears, “its barely 5:40, mate.” he deadpans, australian accent thick as tucks you closer into his side, beginning to step away from his roommate. “and none of your business,” he finalizes, but there’s no malice, only an exchange of smirks and deep chuckles as the two boyfriends wave. “have fun lovebirds!” oscar hears the brit call, but his eyes are only focused on you as he grasps your hand, squeezing it softly as his thumb rubs the back of it. “ready?”
ynln
liked by oscarpiastri, magui_corceiro, kikagomes, and 1,026 others
ynln hi this is MY boyfriend thanks @/oscarpiastri 🙄🙄
user63 her account is so aesthetic compared to her comments im crying 😭😭😭
lilymhe golf and matcha date? 🤗
⤷ ynln YESYESYES!!!
user74 i see them all the time on campus theyre actually adorable
kikagomes get a roooommmmm 🙄
⤷ ynln puh lease as if u and pierre keep ur hands off each other when u guys are tg 😒😒
⤷ kikagomes WHATEVER!
user27 SHE DEFINITELY SAW THAT TWT THREAD LOLLL
user80 him holding her bags ugh 😣
the next morning…
oscarpiastri, ynln, and landonorris added to their stories
ynln replied to oscarpiastri’s story why do u post me when i look gross 😖
⤷ oscarpiastri u look beautiful 24/7 silly, i just wanna show u off
⤷ ynln ugh i can’t even stay mad at u 🙄🙄
user72 replied to oscarpiastri’s story and i can’t even get a guy to take me out 💔
landonorris replied to oscarpiastri’s story dude u guys r actually so gross
⤷ oscarpiastri u bring ur gf in the house all the time 😑
user10 replied to oscarpiastri’s story she is beautiful 😗
logansargeant replied to your story can u tell oscar to make me breakfast next 🥹🥹🥹
⤷ ynln DUDE U LITERALLY TRANSFERRED 💔💔💔💔 ON UR OWN FREE WILL GET OUT
⤷ logansargeant okay whatever 🥲🥲
user27 replied to your story cutest couple ever like im sick
user39 ugh i love seeing u two on campus tg!!!
alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story we need to go out tg soon ☺️☺️
⤷ ynln yes!!! tell charles to text osc and they can figure it out LOL!
user55 what’s for breakfast 🤔
oscarpiastri replied to landonorris’s story mate just invite your girl over, half of the brothers’ girls are here 😭😭
⤷ landonorris hmmm good thinking for once 🧐
⤷ oscarpiastri ???? im literally ranked higher than u but ok
user83 replied to landonorris’s story THEY’RE SO CUTEEE UGHHH
ynln replied to landonorris’s story OMG JUST ADMIT U WANT MY BF 😭😭
⤷ landonorris 🤗🤗🤗😬😬😬🤔🤔🤔
⤷ ynln MOTHERFUCKER
user74 replied to landonorris’s story yn cropping out the frat house mess in her story loool 😭😭
you’re roused awake by the sound of a clicked button, a familiar chuckle, and sunlight illuminating your vision from behind your eyelids. “mmmm….osc?” a groan escapes your lips as you pat around the bed—eyes remaining closed—looking for a remnant of your boyfriend who you seemingly were sleeping with just a minute ago. as you hear a few light footsteps you will yourself to peel your eyes open, fortunately coming face to face with the aussie. “hey honey, sleep well?” he murmurs, carefully moving a strand of hair away from your face and kissing your forehead. you blearily blink, smelling his seemingly natural scent of sandalwood and citrus as you make eye contact with him. your heart tugs with affection as you take in the sight: oscar’s hair is messy, tousled from sleep, lips slightly pouting as he cocks his head to the side, and his eyes are so so soft and full of love that it makes your heart melt. “like a baby, you?” you softly speak, untangling your arms from under his sheets, reaching for his face and planting a tender kiss on his cheek. he leans into your touch, humming in approval as your lips make contact with his face, “amazing, especially since i got to wake up to an angel this morning,” he smiles cheekily, “was gonna make breakfast before me and the guys get ready for cricket practice, want some?” he slowly straightens up, back cracking slightly as he cocks his head to the side once more. “always fucking cricket taking you away from me…” you angrily—but playfully—mumble, sitting up and slotting your socked feet into a pair of slippers. you hear oscar chuckle from behind you as you make your way down the hall towards the bathroom, his hand catching your wrist before you make it far. “i love you sweetheart, meet you downstairs, mkay?” he says, kissing your temple and giving you a toothy grin before letting you go. you mumble back a barely coherent yes, but an involuntary smile ends up on your face as he walks off.
oscar makes his way down the winding stairs of lambda chi’s frat house, coming face to face with a familiar curly-haired brother. he’s barely two steps into the living room when the brit speaks, “brought her over again?” oscar whips his head around—cracking his neck in the process—his gaze landing on lando, whose eyes are glued to his phone as he continues, “geez, the two of you are attached at the hip, no? don’t you guys ever get sick of one another?” he barks out a laugh, it’s blasphemy really. anyone who saw the two of you knew how devoted you both were, so why would he ever begin to get sick of you? oscar’s laugh seems to break lando’s concentration of being glued to his phone, “you’re funny mate, seriously. she’s my girlfriend, i love her,” he watches as lando’s mouth gapes open, and he assumes the curlyhead boy is about to speak, but the sound of padding footsteps shuts him up. oscar quirks a brow, but realizes who it is when a head of hair leans against his side.
“hey honey,” oscar’s voice is syrupy and laced with a deep sense of affection as he turns his head, throwing an arm over your shoulder and kissing the crown of your hair. he hears you hum a noise of satisfaction, giving him a small peck on the cheek, “gossiping about me with cricket boy?” you ask, a teasing glint in your eye as you make eye contact with him. he shrugs, a playful grin on his face mirroring your own, “why don’t you ask him?” he points to where lando is sat on the couch, facing the two of you while trying—and failing miserably—to look absorbed in his phone. his gaze follows you as he watches you slip from underneath his arm, moving to stand in front of the curly-haired brunette before speaking, “gossiping about me cricket boy?” oscar crosses his arms, watching how lando sputters before doubling down, “yeah,” the brit rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, “i mean- like i was just saying how the two of you are like- attached! like all the time! don’t you ever get sick of him!?” you glance back at your boyfriend, smile thin in an attempt to hide your laughter, its almost like you’re saying ‘get a load of this guy’ with your face, oscar thinks, chuckling to himself and breaking eye contact with you to stare at the ground to prevent more laughter spilling from his lips. “that’s my boyfriend, lan…like…do you get sick of magui? oh i’m so telling her!” his chest both loosens and warms with a feeling of gratitude and affection as he listens to the two of you banter as he makes his way towards the kitchen, a small, almost imperceptible smile finding its way onto his lips. he was lucky, lucky enough to have someone so perfect that fits into his life.
you pad your way to the kitchen, a shit-eating grin present on your face as lando trails behind you, mumbling something like please don’t tell magui and i was joking! almost on instinct—but not before snapping a photo of your beloved boyfriend, you beeline towards the stove, latching yourself onto oscar’s arm. you look up at him, eyes softening like they always do when you’re around him, “what’re you making?” his eyes don’t leave the cooking pans as he responds, releasing his arm from your grip and letting it drape onto your hip, “eggs…bacon, maybe some avocado toast in a bit, want anything else?” oscar’s arms flex as he continues flipping the food and at the same time, you tap a playful finger against your lips in faux contemplation. “hmmm…” your lips stretch into a thin line, pursing as you slip from underneath his arm—again, for the second time that morning—before trotting your way over to the large fridge. carefully, you move the many bottles of drinks, fishing out a fragile container of strawberries and blueberries, closing the door behind you with a kick of your foot as you make your way back to oscar’s side. you lift the cartons, a soft smile on your lips as you cock your head to the side, making eye contact with the aussie, “want some?” oscar’s eyes move from the cooking skillets to your direction, tracking your movements as you carefully unveil the fruits, placing them gingerly on a cutting board—one you rummaged through many cabinets to find. he nods, “i’ll eat whatever you make me, baby,” his expression only softens even more, heartstrings tugging as he watches your face light up at the mere invitation to help your boyfriend cook. “okay!” you respond, and oscar truly believes your smile could light up an entire room.
the rest of the morning passes with faint laughter echoing through the frat and lando’s occasional grumbles as he listens to the two of you converse. “why are you still here lando? are you enjoying being the third wheel that much?” you ask through chewing, your voice muffled as you stuff a pancake into your mouth. you watch as lando opens his mouth, closes it, then reopens it again, “i’m using your boyfriend for a ride,” he says like it’s obvious, “we’re gonna practice then go to the gym together,” your head whips to your boyfriend beside you, “ughh! that means all i’m gonna do today is study for my stupid finals this week!” you groan, your head hitting oscar’s shoulder as he places a soothing hand on your thigh, fingers circling the inner portion as he attempts to console you. you feel a soft pair of lips make contact with your forehead before you look up, “you’ll do great honey, want me to drive you back to the dorms after this?” he asks, eyes softening when your gaze meets his, “yes please, i think i’ll study with flavy and hannah i guess…” you trail off, moving your head away from oscar’s shoulder as you fork around the food on your plate, the smallest pout making its way to your face. from your peripheral vision, you watch how oscar rolls his eyes playfully before stretching and pulling you closer to him via a hand on your waist. a squeal slips past your lips, catching lando’s attention. “gross! tell me when you guys are done making out with each other, i’ll be waiting!” the brit hops off the kitchen stool opposite of the two of you, making his way to the living room to avoid seeing the affectionate gestures you share. you and oscar exchange a glance, laughing lowly as you watch his best friend walk off. “cricket can wait for their captain, right?” you smile, your body turning to face him as your arms find their way over his shoulder. “yeah, it can,” he murmurs, closing the space between the two of you, hands caressing your waist as he envelops your lips in a kiss.
oscarpiastri and ynln added to their story
user71 replied to oscarpiastri’s story oooh captain teach me how to play 🤗🤗
user71 is blocked
ynln replied to oscarpiastri’s story hope you’re having fun honey 😚
⤷ oscarpiastri yup 👍
⤷ oscarpiastri coffee run after i’m done?
⤷ ynln yes please i need!! 🥹
hattiepiastri replied to oscarpiastri’s story music choice is assss
⤷ oscarpiastri 👎
user83 replied to oscarpiastri’s story i saw you guys practicing!!
user50 replied to your story i hateeee studying girl idk how u do it
flavy.barla replied to your story sososo much fun but i’m so not ready for finals 💔
⤷ ynln ME EITHER I’M GOING CRAZY!!!
user62 replied to your story girl goodluck this week…
kika.gomes replied to your close friends story you actually look depressed but i can’t say i don’t either
⤷ ynln i think this is my final week seriously
oscarpiastri replied to your close friends story do you want me to pick you up?
⤷ oscarpiastri omw, see you soon beautiful 🤍
your fingers dance on the surface of the glass table, your nails’ clacking sounds echoing through the small study room you’ve reserved. finally, a series of knocks interrupts your focus, and as you pull your attention away from your tablet, you see through the glass both flavy and hannah holding a multitude of study materials. you smile at the sight of them as your shoes thud against the ground while you walk to open the door. “was wondering when the two of you would get here!” you exclaim, a wide smile on your face as you take turns hugging the girls, leading them to the table you were just sat at. “we've missed you too!” you hear flavy admit as the three of you sit down, “seriously, i mean you're like attached at the hip with oscar, i wouldn't be surprised if he came running through the halls looking for you,” hannah giggles, and you can't help but laugh at her words, “we're actually going out after this,” you cheekily murmur, eyes flying down to your tablet as you hear the other two groan playfully in protest. you smile as you roll your eyes, but there's no heat behind it. “okay come on! we have to study for these stupid finals!”
hums fill the air as the three of you work separately, enjoying each other's presence as your workloads dwindle slowly. the sound of pens scratching against index cards clings to your ears as you look up from your tablet, eyes glancing at the girls absorbed in their own work before flitting down to your watch, 4:26. you suck in a breath, capturing the attention of flavy and hannah, “i'm gonna go girls, it's getting late and i kind of want to rot in bed before finals kills me,” you say, listening to the chuckles that fill the room before stuffing your tablet along with your textbooks into your bag, “the room is reserved until five, enjoy!” you swing your bag over your shoulder, stepping around the table and crouching to hug the both of them. “love you both!” you say, giving the two girls a lung-collapsing squeeze before you wave over your shoulder, stepping out of the study room and gently closing the door behind you.
you let out a relieved sigh as you enter your shared dorm, kicking your shoes off and placing them beside the door before your feet make contact with the carpeted ground. “honey i'm home!” you sing-song, hanging your keys on the hook and dropping your bag before beelining to your bed. you jump onto the lofted mattress, tucking yourself in with a satisfied oomph, making eye contact with kika across the room as you settle yourself in. “you look like you just died and came back to life,” she deadpans, but a slight chuckle comes through her lips as she finishes her sentence, “i did! i hate studying!” you exclaim, scoffing playfully as you defend yourself. you watch as a smile stretches across her face before she joins you in a laughing fit, your combined giggles echoing throughout the room—and likely being heard from down the hall. your phone vibrates, the time gleaming a bright 4:38 pm as it pulls your attention from your shared laughing with your roommate. as your chuckles subside, you pick up your phone, glancing at the name before responding.
you smile, swinging your feet over your lofted bed and slipping them into a pair of slides. with a bounce in your step, you make your way towards your vanity, noticing from the corner of your eye how kika’s head pops from beneath her covers. “ynnn! where are you off to?” she says, her tone lighthearted and motherly all at once, “i’m going out with osc at 5:30! i wanna start getting ready, i have nothing better to do anyway!” you say, pinning your hair back, looking in the mirror as you do so, your eyes making contact with your roommate’s through the reflection. you watch as she sits up in bed, face strewn in a faux annoyed expression, “ugh!” she yells dramatically, her head flopping backwards back onto her pillow, “you’re always with him! it’s almost gross! aren’t frat boys supposed to be players?” she groans, her nails back to clicking the surface of her phone screen as words mindlessly fall from her mouth. “well yeah, i guess?” you shrug, dusting your face with product as you continue speaking, “but i’ve been with this man for forever, and i think the both of us would like to keep it that way!” you roll your eyes playfully, “besides, pierre is practically the same with you, it’s just because his engineering major takes up more of his time! oscar-” you begin to compare the two, but you’re soon cut off, “blah blah! oscar does business so he has more time, i’ve already heard this story girl! jeez you two really do talk about each other a lot!” you can’t help but roll your eyes again, who cares if the two of you are attached anyway? maybe they’re just miserable and jealous…
ynln added to their story
lilymhe replied to your close friends story still waiting for a makeup tutorial from you… 🙈
⤷ ynln maybe once finals are over and i get to BREATHE
⤷ lilymhe HAHA understandable 😭😭
user77 replied to your story hope you loved the latte art!! you and oscar are so cute!!!
magui_corceiro replied to your story lovelovelove everything about you two 🤍
⤷ ynln ugh love you more 🤍🤍
user62 replied to your story omg what coffee shop is this??
oscarpiastri replied to your story hey who’s the buff guy in the back there 🤔
⤷ ynln 😭😭
oscarpiastri added to their story
user29 replied to oscarpiastri’s story THE SONGGG UGHH
hattiepiastri replied to oscarpiastri’s story THIS is peak music 🤝
⤷ oscarpiastri 🙄🙄
user48 replied to oscarpiastri’s story the outfit coordinationnn >>>
ynln replied to oscarpiastri’s close friends story you always make the other girls jealous 😆😆
⤷ oscarpiastri i’m the best at showing up these other guys 🙃🙃
pierregasly replied to oscarpiastri’s close friends story mate where did you get the flowers?? kika was facetiming me and showed yn walking in with that giant bouquet and she asked me why i don’t buy her pretty flowers 😭🙏
⤷ oscarpiastri renée fleurs near our uni, don’t tell anyone else this is my secret 🤫
⤷ pierregasly bless you mate 🙏🙏
oscar knocks on your dorm room door with three crisps knocks and he listens as he hears the clang of objects falling, curses falling from your voice, and a quick one sec! coming from your roommate. he chuckles, knocking again, “honey? everything okay?” concern layers underneath the clear amusement in his tone as he goes to knock again, only being met with a slightly disheveled you. he watches how your face brightens as your eyes move from his and to the flowers he holds in his hands, “for me?!” you ask excitedly, taking the bouquet away from his hands and looking up at him, “of course, who else is deserving of these, hm?” he smiles, planting a kiss on the top of your forehead, watching as you pull away, going on your tippy toes to give a kiss on his cheek, “let me put these down then we can go!” you exclaim, moving your body away from his as you walk back into your dorm. oscar leans against the doorframe, a soft grin on his face as he watches you show kika your new array of flowers excitedly whilst giggling. as you walk back towards the door, his grin widens, “all set, sweetheart?” he asks, hand reaching for yours as he closes the door behind the two of you, “yup!” you chirp in response, and he can’t help but smile as your hand finds its way to mold into his.
the streets of monaco never know peace, but it seems like its especially so today; there’s much too many people walking alongside the two of you as you talk animatedly, yet the sounds of sport cars revving in the distance seem to overpower your voice, causing oscar to lean forward in an attempt to hear you—which almost never works. “it’s just so difficult! i mean i feel like an idiot! and everyone else-” you’re deep into a rant, breaths shallow as you complain, but you’re again cut off by the noise of a car’s engine sputtering past you, driving off as if it didn’t interrupt you. to make matters worse, you feel the sidewalk begin to become even narrower, the concrete overpopulated with a mass amount of people weaving their way hurriedly to wherever they must need to go. you let out an irritated huff, hand movements stopping midair, gosh this is so annoying, why can’t things just go your way?- you think, but soon your thoughts are cut off and suddenly, you’re being moved, a large hand is splayed across the small of your back, guiding you away from the edge of the sidewalk effortlessly. oscar cranes his neck to look down at you the same second you look up at him, “what was that, baby?” his deep voice resonates within your ears, a warmth settling in your chest as you realize what’s happened. your senses become overwhelmed as you lean into his touch, inhaling the smell of his deep sandalwood scent mixed with a touch of citrus, “uhm…nothing important, are we almost there?” your voice is softer, no longer holding the edge you had a minute ago whilst you complained. you look up through your lashes, watching how oscar’s face changes almost imperceptibly, a small quirk in his brow as he bites the inside of his cheek, clearly amused by the effect he’s seemingly had on you with such a small action. “yeah, just a few more minutes, think you can handle it, sweetheart?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone as he speaks, but you ignore it, mind too occupied with his small act of chivalry as you grip his arm, “yeah, yeah let’s go,” your voice cracks slightly as you speak. a small kiss lands on your temple, and you can practically see oscar’s smile as he pulls away and speaks, “yeah, off we go then.”
the inside of the coffee shop is much quieter, thankfully. the moment you walk in, you can feel how your body relaxes, the calming music in the background accompanied by the quiet chatter of college students inside putting your mind at ease. “find a spot to sit, i’ll order your usual, okay?” oscar plants a kiss atop your head, his hand lingering on the small of your back as he pulls away, walking towards the register. you smile as you watch him walk off before finding a spot where the two of you can sit together; you end up settling on a booth near the front of the cafe, efficiency, so your server can serve you quicker, or at least that’s what oscar claims. you chuckle to yourself, chin resting on your palm as you glance back up, watching how oscar slides smoothly into the seat in front of you. he cocks his head in the same direction your head rests in your palm, “good seat choice,” he murmurs, “picked it so we could get our stuff quicker,” you cheekily smile, your eyes darting around as you admire him; his cheeks are slightly flushed due to the chilly wind outside, eyes dilated as he looks at you, and his white tee stretches deliciously over his mass of bicep muscle, perfect, isn’t he? you think, but your thoughts are soon interrupted by a sickly sweet voice, “can i get you anything else?”
oscar’s attention is dragged away from you as he looks up, met with the face of a girl he feels he faintly recognizes. “can i get you anything else?” he hears her say as she clinks the drinks onto the table the two of you are sat at. his attention diverts back to you, quirking an eyebrow almost to ask, did you want anything?, but he notices how you’re seemingly fixed on staring at the girl in front of him, teeth biting the inside of your cheek accompanied by a furrow in your brow and a frown turning the corners of your lips. “honey?” his voice is softer than usual, watching how you slowly turn your head to meet his gaze, “want anything?” he continues, foot nudging yours from underneath the table in an attempt to ground you. “no…i’m fine,” you’re tone is clipped, masking a growing irritation he can sense from your words. oscar nods, turning his head back to the waitress, watching as the slightly familiar girl opens her mouth, placing a hand on the table and she leans closer to him, “my name is valerie, let me know if you need anything…” her hand rests on his forearm unexpectedly just before she struts off, causing him to pull his arm away from the edge of the table, rubbing the lingering touch off. his face contorts into a confused expression before he pulls his attention away from his arm, “what the fuck was that?”
your voice comes out harsher than you anticipate, irritation bubbling from within you as you watch the girl walk off, “i mean seriously? in front of me?” your voice raises an octave, your hands flailing dramatically—but within reason—as you speak, intending to catch the attention of the ignorant girl. you feel as oscar catches your hands, his eyes and grip against you soft as you meet his gaze. slowly, he drops your hands down to the table, stopping you from creating gestures as he cups his palms into yours. “she was totally out of line,” he says, sucking in a breath, “but everyone knows i only love you, baby, nothing will ever change that,” his words are practically music to your ears, your shoulders falling and a sigh leaving your mouth as you listen to his reassurance. you move your hands from his, cupping your usual order in your hands and taking a sip before gently placing it back down on the table and looking back up at oscar. “did you even know her?” your voice is more gentle, laced with curiosity rather than hostility, and you watch as oscar grabs his own drink before he responds, “honestly?” he thinks for a moment, taking a sip of his order before shrugging, “she looks familiar…maybe in my math class? but i wouldn’t remember, truthfully, i’m always seconds from falling asleep in that class…” he trails off, and you can’t help the giggle that erupts from your throat. the tension dissipates then, the combined laughter between the two of you echoing throughout the cafe as you share snippets of your recent days without each other. “yeah! and then flavy completely-” you’re mid conversation, giggling between every other word as you try and tell oscar a story he’s 100% heard before but is too in love with you to tell you otherwise when a familiar figure approaches your table.
“here’s the check, let me know if there’s anything else i could do for you,” you watch as she practically shoves her way in oscar’s line of sight, blocking you with her figure as she slides the paper over. your hands drop to your lap, fisting your jeans as you slowly breathe out in an attempt to ground yourself, seriously? how desperate is this bitch? you think, rolling your eyes and watching how she straightens up, smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as oscar takes the receipt. your attention shifts to your boyfriend as you watch a furrow appear between his brows, fingers grasping an additional paper with dark writing etched into it, in front of you? this girl did not. your head whips to look at the standing girl, watching how her sickly sweet smile only grows in satisfaction of her actions and your mouth opens, but you’re quickly cut off by a sterner, almost angry voice.
“i don’t want this.” oscar’s voice cuts through the tension, sharp and lingering in the air, his tone stopping the unknown girl in her tracks, her eyes widening almost comically. he watches as she sputters, and from the corner of his eye he notices how your shoulders relax ever so slightly as he continues speaking, “ignoring my girlfriend while she sits right in front of me then giving me your number? you have a lot of audacity,” his voice drips with a sort of venom he can’t remember the last time he’s used as he crumples up the paper etched with what he presumes is her phone number. wordlessly, he takes out his wallet, slapping down a twenty dollar bill atop the check, “i hope you don’t treat all your female customers like this,” he stands, grabbing his drink, “i-i’m so sorry, i-” he hears her meekly reply, clearly she’s only sorry about getting caught, he thinks as he maneuvers around the worker, taking your hand in his as he murmurs for you to grab your drink so the two of you can leave. “have a good day.” he curtly cuts the girl off, his tone clipped as he steps around her, hand tightly intertwined with yours as he guides the both of you out of the cafe, not looking back to see her reaction.
the chill of monaco’s winds kisses your face as the two of you step out, wandering aimlessly throughout the city as you reset from what happened moments ago. the two of you end up settling somewhere quiet, a bench overlooking the sea, and a quiet sigh is exhaled from you both as you two sit and make yourselves comfortable. the waves crash softly, almost background noise as you rest your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder, but your mind is elsewhere. you crane your neck to look up at oscar, noticing how tightly his jaw is set and the masked irritation he attempts to hide, and gently, you move to press a warm kiss on his cheek. as you pull away, you’re mesmerized by the lingering mark of your lip products, smiling slightly as you realize the clenching of his jaw has subdued before resting your head back onto his shoulder. “that was probably the hottest thing you’ve done,” you murmur, a giggle escaping your throat involuntarily in your attempt to lighten the mood. “yeah?” oscar softly replies, and you can feel the way his shoulders slump down, relaxation coursing its way throughout his body as he leans into your figure, an arm around your waist. “yeah, especially because it was just so…weird?” you reaffirm, a slight smile making it’s way to your face as you rub circles around your boyfriend’s knee with a pointed nail, distracting yourself slightly, “you handled it exactly the way i’d want you to,” a warmth settles in your chest as you make your confession, and you look up, eyes making contact with oscar’s chocolate brown ones. “i just love you, and i can’t believe that girl couldn’t see that. it was just rude, point blank,” he explains, a furrow between his brows, “i love you too,” your hand finds its way to his cheek, leaning in, “i love you more.” he confesses, and the smile that curves the corners of his lips tugs at your heartstrings as he closes the distance between the two of you, the sound of waves crashing and golden hue of the sun only adding to the romantic moment.
a few months later…
a smile makes it across your face as you step out of your dreaded anatomy class, your voice practically bouncing off the walls as your gaze lands upon oscar, whose eyes are already fixated on you, “i’m finally done!” you giggle, eyes forming into crescents as you jog your way to your boyfriend, hands latching around his torso as you lean into him, letting out an exhale in relief. “congrats sweetheart,” he murmurs into the top of your head, planting a kiss softly, his heartbeat echoes in your ears as you press yourself into his chest, a pleased hum escaping your lips just as his voice reverberates through your head, “i’m proud of you,” his arms fall around your waist, giving you a squeeze before he pulls away gently, “dinner?” he questions, head cocking to the side as you look up at him, “to celebrate my girl who's worked so hard this past semester,” he continues, gentle brown eyes boring into your own as you respond with a cheeky smile, “only if you're paying!”
a series of knocks echoes throughout your shared dorm room just as you fumble to slip on a pair of shoes, “kika can you-” “yup, already on it querida,” you can hear the amusement lacing her tone as she gets up to open the door and you let out a sigh of relief, “tell him i'll be out in just a second!” you say, voice projecting off the walls as you bend to clasp your heel, listening to the shared banter of the two just a few feet away from you.
oscar approaches the familiar decorated door of your dorm, flowers in hand as he raises his hand, knocking a crisp three raps against the wood. an involuntary smile makes its way across his face as he listens to your muffled, rushed yelling before he's met face to face with your roommate, an amused smirk tugging at kika's lips as her eyes rake across his figure. immediately, he watches how her hands reach out to grasp the flowers he holds, “aww for me? you're so sweet bringing us flowers oscar!” the sarcasm drips from her tone as she holds the bouquet, running her fingers across the flowers as she inspects each individual one. “kika please, you know those are for my girl,” he shakes his head—almost disappointedly—as he holds in a chuckle, watching how his teammate’s girlfriend rolls her eyes, opening her mouth in attempt to ready herself to speak, before she’s abruptly nudged by you in the doorway. almost instantly, oscar’s attention shifts to you, a breath caught in his throat as he analyzes just how beautiful you are, you look perfect. he watches as you interact with your roommate, a playful and faux annoyed expression causing your lips to curl tantalizingly into a smile, and his heart nearly stops. his mind barely comprehends how you shoo kika back into your dorm, closing the door and grinning widely before you turn back to him, waving a hand in front of his face.
“oscarrr? hello, honey? are you in there?” your voice finally registers in his ears and oscar finally makes eye contact with you, noting the way your brows knit together, your face twisted in a worried expression. his hands move instinctively, arms moving to cradle your waist, encasing you in his hold as his eyes rake your figure, a soft grin making its way to his face. “just admiring you,” he says, you clean up well, almost too well, he thinks as he continues, “you look absolutely beautiful, stunning, truly, sweetheart,” his voice is laced with such love and sincerity as he speaks the words, his eyes flitting to your own, his heartstrings tugging at the sight of your face softening and the corners of your mouth tilting upward. he presses a kiss to your hairline, soft and reverent before he pulls away, arms moving from your waist to capture your hand in his, “c’mon baby…” he trails off, admiring you once more before cheekily stealing a last kiss from your lips, causing you to exclaim, head tilting back with laughter as you swat the taller man, “osc!”
charles_leclerc replied to oscarpiastri’s story and ANOTHER date….where are the flowers mate?
⤷ oscarpiastri already delivered 🤝
user64 replied to oscarpiastri’s story HER DRESSS!!! WOW
landonorris replied to oscarpiastri’s story skipped out on game night btw
⤷ oscarpiastri worth it 🤷♂️
user39 replied to oscarpiastri’s story omg you holding her bag 🥹
user18 replied to oscarpiastri’s story wow you guys just compliment each other so well…im jealous
user72 replied to your story OMG WHICH ITALIAN PLACE IS THIS!!
isabellabernardini_ replied to your story the margherita pizza there oh my goshhh… >>
⤷ ynln seriously!! it’s all i ever get honestly…
user44 replied to your story the songgg ughhh i love the two of you so much, my favorite couple on campus 1000%
user52 replied to your story save me a slice 😋
kellypiquet replied to your story where did he get the quarter zip? i need to upgrade max’s wardrobe! 🥲🥲
⤷ ynln i actually bought it for him haha, it’s from peter millar 🤍
⤷ kellypiquet you’re the best 🤍🤍
the italian restaurant welcomes you with the sounds of clinking glasses and hushed classical music as you walk hand in hand with oscar, the warmth of the lighting casting an aesthetic shadow across your boyfriend’s face as you look up, leaning into his arm. “wow…this is…” you trail off, mesmerized by the atmosphere that lingers in the air and artistry that lines the very walls and ceiling of the restaurant, “lovely? just the best for you, pretty girl,” he looks down at you, matching your gaze and moving a hair behind your ear and out of your face. your chest tightens with affection as oscar’s words hang in the air, “you’ve really outdone yourself, osc…” a grateful smile makes its way onto your face, “thank you, honey” you say, lifting yourself up onto your tippy toes as you press a kiss into his cheek, marking the skin with a clear imprint of your gloss. his lips curl upward, grinning cheekily, “only the best for you, sweetheart,” he manages to say before the two of you are called up to the hostess stand with a sharp next! “hi, reservation for oscar, 7:30,” your boyfriend’s voice blends into the surrounding chatter of the restaurant, voice low and deep as he makes conversation, “right this way!” the lady chirps, a smile on her face as she glances at both of you. “c’mon baby,” oscar’s palm lands on the small of your back, disconnecting from your hand as he guides you effortlessly to your reserved seats, following the hostess.
you watch as the woman places the menu, skittering off with a cheerful, your server will be right with you, as you look around, admiring the view. you’re positively entranced by the seating you’re presented with: a small, quaint table tucked in the corner of the restaurant, music softly playing in the background, but more importantly, the view of the sea and the sound of waves crashing slowly in the distance. your body turns sideways, head snapping to look at oscar, your eyes softening, “this is beautiful osc…” your voice carries a sort of gentleness, breaking the comfortable silence as you watch your boyfriend smile back at you, wordlessly kissing your temple as he shuffles behind you, pulling out your chair and gesturing for you to sit. your face flushes and you take the seat, eyes following how oscar moves to sit across from you, chin in palm as his eyes bore into your own. “thank you for this, really…” you say, folding your arms as you push your chair closer to the table, “of course pretty. now let’s decide what to order,” he grabs the menus, hand brushing your own as he hands you one, a cheeky, boyish-like grin illuminating his face as you roll your eyes playfully.
the chatter between the two of you dies as your plates are set in front of you, a small squeal escaping your lips as oscar chuckles. he watches how the dishes are set, murmuring a thank you to the server before he scampers off. his chin lays in his palm as he watches you rearrange the decor and silverware on the table, a sheepish, “camera eats first!” tumbling out of your mouth as you notice his gaze. he really does love watching you in your element, oscar thinks as he watches how you clap, tossing your phone into your purse before you speak, “okay let’s eat!”
a sigh escapes your lips as you manage to swallow down the last bit of pizza, relaxing into the back of your seat as you reach to take a sip of your drink. your eyes are fixated on oscar across the table from you as you watch him groan dramatically—yet still somehow quiet—head leaning back from his chair before he looks back up to meet your eyes again, “that was delicious,” he murmurs, running a hand through his hair. you giggle, “yeah, so much better now that finals are over,” you admit, watching how oscar’s face lights up. your brow quirks, curiosity bleeding through your expression, a wordless one that asks your boyfriend, what? you analyze his expression, watching how his mouth twitches into that boyish grin before he speaks, “we’re throwing a party this weekend, and i know they’re not super your scene, but i figured because finals were over i’d ask if you wanted to join me and the guys…?” immediately, your face softens, heartstrings tugging as you take in his words. he knows you. he knows you so well. you watch as his expression contorts into one of worry, assumingly from your pouted lips and furrowed brows, “we don’t have to! we could do something else-” his voice fades into the background, he’s even willing to give up the party just for you. you finally snap back to reality, hands finding his fidgeting ones and encasing them in your hold, “we have a whole month off from our studies osc. of course i’ll go with you,” you smile, admiring how the brunette’s face lights up with excitement, that same cheeky grin appearing across his lips as he leans over to press a kiss into your cheek.
later that week…
landonorris and oscarpiastri added to their story
user72 replied to landonorris’s story cup pongggg
maxfewtrell replied to landonorris’s story mate i know you’re losing 😂😂
⤷ landonorris MO IM NO T
user80 replied to landonorris’s story all the guys there PHEW 😍😍
user64 replied to landonorris’s story holy solo cups
carlossainz replied to landonorris’s story MAYE WJERE ARE YOU WE’RE TAKING A PHOTO
⤷ landonorris I DEE YPU IM ON RHE WAY
⤷ carlossainz OJAY
logansargeant replied to oscarpiastri’s story on the way 😆
⤷ oscarpiastri so glad you can come mate 🤝
user28 replied to oscarpiastri’s story holy shit it is PACKED wtfff
user62 replied to oscarpiastri’s story OKG IM IN THIS PHOTO
landonorris replied to oscarpiastri’s story MATW WE’RE FONAN TAKE A PHORO WHERE ARE YOU
⤷ oscarpiastri coming 👍
user96 replied to oscarpiastri’s story what’s the theme??
ynln added to their story
carmenmmundt replied to your close friends story the giant bottle of vodka is killing me 😆
⤷ ynln I KNOW! kika bought it haha 🤣🤣
user75 replied to your story the girliessss are killing it tonighttt
user88 replied to your story OMG THE BOTTLES ON THE CUPBOARD HELLO?? 😭😭
logansargeant replied to your story grossss 🙄🙄
⤷ ynln you’re iust jealous im taking hik from you 💁♀️💁♀️
user20 replied to your story the album cover matching the story i loveee
the beat of the frat house vibrates through the air as you, magui, kelly, lily, and alex pull up to the house, the brazilian parking her car on a side street not too far from your boyfriends’ residence. kelly’s car screeches to a halt as the five of you step out, heels clacking against concrete as your group engages in slightly-tipsy banter, walking to lambda chi’s house that seems to be the loudest on the street, music reaching your ears far before you even approach the door. as you come face to face with the building—bass intensifying in your ears—you raise your hand, knuckles crisply rapping against the oak wood of the door. you turn back to the girls, face twisted with annoyance with the lack of an answer to the door, “hold on,” you tell them, stepping to the side and raising your phone to your ear, the device ringing as you attempt to reach oscar.
oscar stands in a corner in the kitchen, voice projecting over the music as he speaks to logan, hand holding a glass of fruit punch lando concocted the previous night. a series of vibrations in his pocket brings him out of his conversation, his free hand flying to his jeans and slipping the phone into his palm, the device lighting up with a familiar call incoming from ‘my girl’. “sorry logan! i’ll be right back, my girl’s calling!” he shouts over his shoulder, already walking away as he approaches a quieter area of the frat, fingers rapidly moving to answer you. “hey honey, what’s up?” his voice is almost uncharacteristically soft as he speaks to you, but loud enough so you can hear it over the phone, or so he hopes. “we’re outside! and nobody is answering the goddamn door osc!” he hears the slur in your tone as you speak, a small chuckle escaping out of him as he begins moving again, feet shuffling through the crowd of college students, “yeah yeah, i’m coming sweetheart.”
you scoff as the line ends, walking back to the girls standing on the steps in front of the house, your back facing the door as you tipsily roll your eyes, “ugh this is so stupid! god knows when one of these useless men will actually open the-” you complain over the booming music, watching as the girls’ eyes widen, their stares moving from your face to behind you, “why are you-?” your face contorts in confusion, and you begin to turn your head, only to have your lips caught in a kiss. its hot, the taste of cherry lingering on your tongue as you exchange saliva, and closing your eyes, you’re pulled into a familiar chest. your hands capture the hair of the mystery, yet awfully recognizable individual, loose waves threading through the gaps of your fingers as you feel a large hand push your head further against their lips. you gasp, the sound of music and the feeling of your friends passing behind you and slipping into the house dulling as you focus on the tongue that fights with your own. your hands fall, nails scratching against their shoulders as you attempt to pull the muscular body closer, whining as the contact of lips disappears and you finally open your eyes. “useless?” your vision blurs then adjusts, your senses coming back to you as you gaze into your boyfriend’s eyes, the feeling of his hand resting just above your ass making your face feel hot. his head is to the side, lips curling in an insatiable, cocky way and dark eyes hooded as he stares at you, eyes dragging across your frame, almost as if he’s analyzing your outfit, it should be illegal for him to look as good as he does. “cute fit, baby,” the smirk on his face doesn’t leave as he licks his lips, his hand gripping your waist a tiny bit tighter as he pulls you into his chest, letting people pass by into the house. you scoff, eyes rolling before you look up at him through hooded eyes, “shut up, osc” you push off of him, but a small, cheeky grin tugs at your lips as you begin walking into the frat house, head turning back to make eye contact with oscar who stands in the door, “joining me?”
the smell of pure alcohol, cheap perfume, and sweat pierces your nose as you saunter your way into the house, hips swaying as you enter the kitchen. you feel the far too many pairs of eyes on you as you move to grab a solo cup from the island, filling it with the drink that occupies the mysteriously large bowl labelled with a piece of paper folded in front of it, scratchy handwriting that’s half faded reading ‘fruit punch’. you’re halfway through chugging half the cup when you feel a series of gentle taps touch your shoulder, “yn?” you hear the voice, and your eyes almost widen comically. you forcibly swallow the rest of the drink, grinning as you set the cup down and turn your body, “logan! how are you?” your voice slurs slightly as you envelop the american in a tight embrace, “i haven’t seen you in likee…foreverrr,” you pull away, giggling and leaning against the island as your words drag out, watching through blurry vision as he smiles, “yeah! i’ve missed it here, but especially seeing you,” you open your mouth to respond, but you’re cut off, a hand wrapping around your waist, settling on your lower stomach as you’re pulled closer to a familiar chest.
oscar groans as he watches the sway of your hips from the doorway, god you looked good, he grins to himself, chuckling slightly. he shuts the door behind him, shuffling slightly through the crowd in order to follow you before he’s stopped in his tracks. “hey mate, how’re you?” a pat on his shoulder breaks his concentration and he turns almost involuntarily, facing a fairly familiar face, he thinks he’s in his math class…is it matthew? miles? mattheo? oh, mark. “good good,” oscar says hurriedly, words escaping his mouth faster than he can walk off, “hey why don’t we catch up?” his classmate’s accent is thick, laced with a similar aussie accent as him as the liquor takes a stronger effect, “yeah, maybe later mate, gotta maintain the party y’know?” he says, walking off without a second glance behind him, fuck where were you? he thinks, brows furrowing as he glances around, no sign of you on the dance floor, you’re not sitting with the other girls, where the fuck could you have ran off to?- suddenly, he hears it, the unmistakable giggle that escapes your throat when you’re tipsy, found you.
a familiar, annoying feeling bubbles in his chest when oscar enters the kitchen, watching how you converse with his childhood best friend. his eyes narrow, “…but especially seeing you,” he hears logan say, and he feels his stomach twists in knots. carefully, he moves, wrapping an arm around your waist, hand landing posssessively on your lower stomach, just below your navel. he stares at his best friend, almost attempting to dissect his expression, no…logan wouldn’t, he reassures himself inwardly, cursing at even entertaining the thought that your guys’ longtime best friend would even do such a thing, but he can’t help shake the feeling of jealousy off of himself. his gaze breaks from logan as his peripheral catches how you look up at him, and he turns to face you, watching how your eyes squint, presumably trying to capture who exactly has pulled you closer to themselves. “flirting with my girl, logan?” he says teasingly, but there’s an underlying weight to his words, one that catalyzes the tension in the kitchen that you don’t seem to pick up in your drunken state. his eyes don’t move from your own as he watches your face light up in recognition of his voice, and from the corner of his eye, he notices how the american flushes, sputtering incoherently. “nah! no mate, i was just uh…” “logan was just saying hi osc!” you cut him off, beaming as you kiss his cheek, and his fingers dig even more into the softness of your skin, almost grounding him. finally, he looks back up, “i’ve got it from here, mate.” his tone leaves no room for argument as he quirks a brow, head motioning towards the archway, eyes following the american as he watches him scurry out of the kitchen. he grins in satisfaction, looking back down at you, “now…where were we?”
his lips come crashing into yours far quicker than you anticipate, tongue delving into your mouth as you gasp, the flavor of fruit punch lingering between you two. his lips glide against your own, saliva lubricating the kiss as his hands fall to your ass, squeezing the fat of it as you lean against the island. your hands fly to cup his face, and his lips only move more feverishly against yours, almost as if he can’t get enough of you. a vibration in his pocket breaks the air of pants and groans as the two of you slowly separate, saliva connecting your lips before oscar’s thumb raises to break off the connection between you two. your hands fall to his shirt, gripping it as you try to pull him closer for another kiss, whining when he shakes his head playfully, retrieving his phone from his pocket, “hold on for me, sweetheart,” your eyes roll as your head falls against his chest, squinting as you attempt to read the message sent by lando, ‘MATW WE’RE FONAN TAKE A PHORO WHERE ARE YOU,’ you watch as your boyfriend types a quick response before slipping his phone back into his pocket, “i’ll be back honey,” he says, lips making contact with your temple as he pulls away from you, “it’ll be just a sec, don’t miss me too much,” he grins, pressing a last, lingering kiss to your lips as he walks out of the doorway of the kitchen.
as soon as he walks off, your attention diverts back to your phone, eyes narrowing as you try to read the list of contacts, looking for the names of at least one of your girls. your finger hovers over kelly’s name, but just then, a hug nearly knocks the wind out of you. you swiftly turn around, grinning at the sight, “there you girls are!” you cheer, pulling the four of them into a hug, “yeah, we were looking for you,” you hear magui chime as you pull away, “she was too busy making out with her boyfriend to find us,” lily giggles, eyebrows wiggling as you roll your eyes, “you guys are sooo annoying, i just missed him,” you confess, grinning as you pour yourself another glass of fruit punch, taking a sip. “as if you guys aren’t practically attached at the hip!” alex giggles, and the other girls let out hums of agreement as you give the group a pointed look. “whatever!” you say, setting your red solo cup down and putting up your hands in mock defense before giggling. “c’mon guys! stop bothering her, let’s drink!” you hear kelly voice out, grinning as she approaches the kitchen island, pouring each of you a shot of something, and handing one to everyone, “cheers!”
“smile!” the photographer’s voice rings out from behind an obscenely large camera, one that he thinks should definitely be used in a more professional setting, not a frat party, oscar thinks, but alas, he smiles nonetheless. the couch is filled with the lambda chi boys, all barking laughter and hushed whispers as they converse with one another. “okay one more shot!” the voice says again, and the he listens to how the others groan, “it’ll be done after this!” once again, the brothers find their way to compose themselves, grinning for the camera for the last time, hopefully. as soon as the photographer gives the approving thumbs up, the boys disperse, finding themselves on the couch, ground, really anywhere so they can all talk. oscar moves almost automatically, readying himself to escape the living room to go looking for you, “oi! where are you going mate?” god, of course its lando, he thinks, body turning back to the group, and watching how their gazes all move to him, okay, that’s kinda creepy. “back to my girl?” he says it so obviously, almost as if he has nothing else to do, which in all reality, he does, but would much rather spend his time with you while you’re here. he hears the laughter of his frat brothers and can only roll his eyes in response, “seriously man! it’s like you two are fused together!” charles’ comment causes the room to break out again in laughter, drunken slurs teasing him as he shrugs, “something like that,” oscar says, already walking off to try and find you.
after a few rounds of shots, you’re pulled to the dance floor, grinding and dancing against your girls as you drunkenly enjoy yourselves. the music blasts in your ears comfortably, the beat satisfying the itch in your mind as you sing along to the lyrics, the night blurring together slowly. for a moment, you forget where you are, losing yourself in the moment, that is until you trip into another person, almost falling over in the process. “ah! sorry!” you yell over the music, walking away from the mystery man as you try and find your friends, only to realize, they’re gone? you curse inwardly, that’s definitely what magui was trying to tell you over the music blasting, and you just nodded like an idiot, fuck. you stumble your way to a corner of the dance floor, eyes jumping to try and find a glimpse of your girls, huffing when you’re unable to spot them in the crowd. fuck, it’s so over- “hey, you okay?” your head snaps to the masculine voice beside you, “saw you almost take a fall there,” he continues, you squint your eyes, trying to distinguish who this mystery man is, but to no avail. “do i know you?” you shout over the music, definitely not, you think. “uhh…no? i mean maybe, i’m in your chem class, my name’s lorenzo,” you watch as he outstretches his hand and can only laugh inwardly, “yeah…sure,” your smile is thin, polite as you respond, tucking a hair behind your ear as you avoid the handshake, giggling to yourself as you watch how he stuffs his hands into his pockets, a dark blush of embarrassment making its way to his cheeks. “anyway i uh…wanted to ask you something,” “shoot,” you respond, already knowing where this is going. “i was wondering if i could uhm, take you out? like on a-” you grin cutting him off, “thanks, but i have a-” “boyfriend.”
“-boyfriend.” oscar cuts you off, slipping in the open space beside you, successfully separating you from, whoever this guy is, he thinks, rolling his eyes and outstretching his own hands, “oscar piastri. captain of the cricket team and vice president of lambda chi alpha,” as he introduces himself, he watches how the blond in front of him sputters apologies profusely, already walking away. “you’re jealous today,” he hears you say, his eyes still locked on the disappearing figure of the mystery man that came up to you, his hold tightening on your waist. “maybe i just don’t want other people to mistake what’s mine for something they can take,” he murmurs, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss, yeah he likes it this way.
oscarpiastri
liked by landonorris, ynln, charles_leclerc, lilymhe, and 5,108 others
oscarpiastri MY girl @/ynln 🤍🤍
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ynln ugh yes my appreciation post 🥹🥹 i love you my honey
⤷ oscarpiastri i love you more my sweetheart 🤍
user10 the matching fits are to die forrrr
user29 did ANYONE see them at the party…they’re both actually so hot like omg
alex_albon these two are actually like insufferably in love btw
⤷ landonorris agree
⤷ ynln just say ur jealous BYE 🙄🙄
⤷ landonorris WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE CATCHING STRAYS
user66 ugh i dont even go to their school and im so parasocial abt them
user19 second photo is GOLD
carlossainz yeah you guys are like attached to the hip
⤷ oscarpiastri wouldn’t want it any other way 🤷♂️
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