Umm. Yeah

ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏꜱᴄᴀʀ ɪꜱ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ 𝑭𝟏: ᴏᴘ𝟪𝟣 • ɢʀ𝟨𝟥 ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

[piaosc81]

Lights out and away we go!

𓏲𝄢◟ ͜ Hi, I'm Dary (she/her). Welcome to the adult pit stop. Here, I write hot fanfiction about favorite pilot.

🏆 My champion: Oscar Piastri (OP81)

🏎️ Sometimes on the track: GR63.

⠀⤷ Race rules:

🔞 Strictly 18+

❌ No requests. I do not accept orders, I write only when inspired

🔒 Exclusive content. All fanfic in this blog—are my original texts. Any copying, translation, or publication on other resources (Wattpad/Ao3) is strictly prohibited!

[piaosc81]

Im looking forward to read your new series ☺️ when will you publish it?

I've started writing two stories (you can see their titles in my master list), but I just don't have enough time to publish them (since I haven't edited them yet). I thought about writing them at the same time, but I realize it'll be hard, so I'll probably write one first and then the other 💗

I think I’ll publish the first chapter very soon 💗 Thank you for still waiting ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

[piaosc81]

OP81 • ARE YOU ON TIME?

summary: You naively planned to make it to your morning beauty treatment while Oscar enjoyed a rare day off in bed. But you didn't know yet that your boyfriend would wake up with the dirtiest intentions of dragging you back into bed.

pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

word count: 2 900+ k

raiting: 18+

genre: established relationship, pwp, smut, morning sex, teasing, a riding, blowjob, swear words, praise

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (MDNI). This story contains explicit adult content (smut/NSFW), morning sex, and suggestive themes. Read at your own risk and responsibility. Please also keep in mind that English is not my native language, so there may be some grammatical errors or awkwardly phrased sentences. Thank you for your understanding and patience 🙏🏻🧡

author note: I love writing morning sex scenes—isn't that hot? Oscar in his days off is just a whole different person. This idea actually popped into my head out of nowhere, and I just had to write it down. I hope you enjoy this short but pretty intense story 🤭 I’d appreciate any feedback 🥰

Going to bed late, knowing that you need to wake up early in the morning — is definitely not the best idea. When the phone alarm stubbornly rang for the third time that morning, you had to force yourself to open your eyes. They burned unpleasantly from the short, insufficient sleep.

You turned your head and looked at Oscar, who was sleeping soundly next to you. To your surprise, he hadn’t even stirred during any of your three alarms. His steady, deep snoring clearly indicated that the guy was in the realm of the sweetest dreams. You quietly snorted to yourself. This was that same rare, unscheduled day off for Oscar, which in his crazy schedule happened even less often than such quiet mornings as today. He could sleep as much as he wanted. But you had to get up, because an important visit to the hair master was scheduled for today.

Carefully freeing yourself from Oscar’s cozy embrace, you slipped out of bed and headed to the bathroom. The morning routine took at least forty minutes: you took a hot shower, washed your hair, and applied fresh, light makeup. When you glanced at the clock, it showed exactly eight in the morning. You had only thirty minutes left to get dressed and get to the salon.

You quietly entered the bedroom to grab clothes. You were wearing only panties and an oversized T-shirt that barely covered your ass. Not even thinking about how seductive you looked from behind, you approached the large white wardrobe to choose an outfit. You bent down to the lower shelf, and the thin fabric of the T-shirt stretched, completely exposing your slender legs and the curves of your hips.

When you finally found the right clothes and turned around, you suddenly discovered that Oscar was no longer sleeping.

He was lying on his back, with one hand tucked under his head. Oscar slowly raised his eyes from your legs, slid across your waist, and finally stopped his gaze on your face. His brown eyes were half-open, indicating he had just woken up, and a lazy, satisfied smile played on his lips.

“I have to admit, this is one of the best views I’ve ever woken up to,” he drawled in a low, hoarse voice still thick with sleep.

You laughed quietly, hiding your embarrassment. His compliment ran through your body like a real electric current, leaving a pleasant shiver.

“Well, I didn’t plan to please you first thing in the morning, but it turned out that way,” you replied playfully, stepping closer to the bed.

Oscar’s eyes shamelessly scanned you from head to toe. His gaze literally devoured your legs, then moved higher, lingering on your breasts, where your nipples instantly hardened under the fabric of the T-shirt from just his voice.

Oscar lay with his legs casually spread, and the light summer blanket covered only his groin. His abs were tense and sharply defined. In your head, an intrusive image instantly appeared of you slowly running your tongue from his chest down to the very bottom of his stomach. You forced yourself to shake your head and quickly looked away, trying not to think about what you couldn’t allow yourself right now. But your eyes treacherously dropped lower — to where a significant morning erection was clearly visible under the thin blanket.

You involuntarily lingered there with your gaze, clearly imagining how your fingers touched his cock through the fabric, squeezing that incredible hardness. It was just a second of weakness, but it was enough for Oscar to completely read your thoughts. When you finally came to your senses, he was already looking at you with a sly gaze that promised nothing chaste. You ironically raised an eyebrow, as if asking why he was so pleased.

“Don’t you want to please me even more this morning?” he asked with a hint, nodding his gaze toward his groin.

In reality, you wanted it more than anything in the world. Your body reacted so wildly to his dark gaze that you were already wet through your clean underwear. You wanted to jump on the bed right now, straddle your boyfriend, and feel him inside you with your whole body. But the rigid timing held you in a vise.

“Unfortunately, love, no. I’m in a hurry for my appointment with Jade,” you had to refuse.

“Reschedule the appointment,” he suggested.

You turned away to the dresser to get hand cream, trying to distract yourself:

“I can’t do that. Jade’s schedule is booked by the hour, and I can’t wait another week. My hair requires meticulous care. Besides, in a week I won’t be in Monaco at all, because we’ll be with you in Belgium.”

“Okay, then let’s do it quickly so you make it,” Oscar persisted, still hoping you would break under his pressure.

You glanced at your boyfriend again, and he looked fucking hot. He was fully ready to enter you and give you unforgettable pleasure. The temptation to neglect the procedure was enormous. But the voice of reason reminded you: you could have sex with Oscar anytime, but you had to get to Jade strictly today. You pressed your lips together and forcefully tore your eyes away from him, walking over to your side of the bed where lay the clothes which you chose a several minutes ago.

“No, Oscar. I just took a shower and applied makeup. I can’t sweat right now. I don’t have time to wash again.”

“Too bad,” he replied absolutely calmly, but a seductive fire flashed in his brown eyes, “Then I’ll have to take care of it myself.”

You frowned in surprise, holding the clothes in your hands, when you were about to step away from the bed. When you turned around, you froze in complete shock. Oscar casually slipped his hand under the blanket. Right in front of your eyes, he began openly touching himself, and this spectacular gesture instantly shut off any rational control in your head. A hot wave of arousal hit your lower belly, and you felt yourself become even wetter between your legs than before. Holding back was simply impossible.

“Are you serious, Piastri?” you half-whispered, aroused and indignant.

Throwing the clothes onto the nearest chair, you decisively approached the bed and climbed onto it, ending up above Oscar. A triumphant, wildly sexy smile stretched his lips, but you no longer cared. All you could think about was his hand hidden under the fabric.

With one sharp movement, you threw the blanket aside, and an incredible sight opened before your eyes: his palm was hidden under his home shorts, and his massive erection clearly and prominently protruded through the fabric, demanding immediate release.

Oscar didn’t even think about removing his hand; he just looked up at you from below with his incredibly dark gaze full of passion. He was enjoying his victory. He knew you wouldn’t resist.

“You’re in a hurry, baby,” he reminded you, barely noticeably moving his fingers under the shorts, causing the fabric to stretch again.

You didn’t answer. The sounds of the outside world, time, Jade, and your perfect makeup — all of it instantly lost any meaning. You leaned over him, sliding forward, running your fingers into his messy bed hair, and greedily captured his hot lips in a deep, demanding kiss. Oscar instantly responded, seizing the initiative. His tongue dominantly slid into your mouth, intertwining with yours and turning the kiss into wet madness.

Meanwhile, your free palm slid lower, landing right on top of his hand, which was still inside the shorts. You pressed hard on his crotch with your palm, forcing Oscar to let out a low, satisfied groan straight into your lips.

Without breaking the kiss, you slipped your fingers under the elastic waistband of his shorts, finding his own hand. You roughly pulled his wrist upward, forcing Oscar to remove his palm.

“I’ll do it,” you said, breathing heavily into his lips, looking down at him.

Oscar allowed you to do whatever you wanted without hesitation, but his large palms had already possessively settled on your thighs under the T-shirt, digging his fingers firmly into your tender skin and pressing your wet crotch against his thigh.

After kissing him on the lips, you pulled away a moment later and moved lower, confidently pulling his shorts down. He wasn’t wearing boxers underneath. You freed his erection, which, as expected, was already covered with a network of tense veins.

Your heart pounded somewhere in your throat. You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, feeling how warm and hard it was, and made several slow, firm strokes from base to tip, gathering drops of morning precum.

You leaned down to his cock and touched the sensitive head with your tongue. Oscar sharply inhaled through his nose, his abs tensed like steel, and the fingers that had been possessively on your thighs a few seconds ago now gripped your hair.

You took his length less than halfway, rhythmically moving your lips along his cock. Your saliva mixed with a small amount of his precum. Oscar began moaning a little louder each time your lips moved.

Fuck.

That low groan of his made you so greedy for his cock. You continued sucking him, helping with your hand. Between your legs was a complete mess. You were very wet, and your clit ached from arousal and needed attention.

“Fuck…” Oscar drawled when he lightly pressed on the back of your head so you would take him deeper. You gave in without any resistance. “Fuck yes… this feels so good,” he groaned.

You took him deeper, completely surrendering to his soft but confident pressure. Oscar arched on the mattress, his hips instinctively thrusting toward your lips, catching this sweet, lingering moment. Your saliva generously lubricated the hot flesh, and each of your movements was accompanied by a wet, teasing sound that echoed in the silence of the morning bedroom.

His fingers tangled in your hair, but he wasn’t rough — he only kept control of every centimeter of pleasure you were giving him. Your tongue caressed the sensitive tip of his head while your lips rhythmically slid down, making Oscar moan dully and brokenly again and again. His abs were iron-hard from tension, and his breathing became increasingly heavy and ragged.

“It’s always so good…” he groaned lowly, and in his usually calm voice now rang pure wild passion. He barely managed to lift himself to look at you. And when he saw you between his legs, he wanted to feel your pussy.

Oscar stopped you, forcing you to release his cock from your mouth. He pulled you toward him, and you found yourself face to face with him, breathing heavily, with lips wet from arousal. His brown eyes had completely darkened, turning into two deep whirlpools.

Oscar slipped his large palms under your T-shirt. His slightly rough fingers slid up your ribs, immediately finding your tense breasts. He squeezed them, rolling the hard nipples between his fingertips, causing you to moan loudly and helplessly right into his neck. Your completely wet and pulsating pussy rubbed against his firm thigh, seeking at least some relief.

“Look at yourself,” Oscar said, propping himself up on his elbows and making you straighten your back. He pulled the T-shirt off you and threw it somewhere on the floor. “So greedy for me that you even forgot you’re running late.”

His palm unceremoniously found the edge of your thin panties. With one confident movement, he pulled them down your thighs and got rid of them the same way as the T-shirt. Your panties landed near your T-shirt somewhere on the floor. Your pussy was now completely exposed before his heavy, burning gaze. Oscar slowly ran his middle finger along your folds, collecting abundant, clear wetness, and immediately pressed the pad of his finger to your swollen, burning clit.

“Ah… ah,” was all you could squeeze out of yourself. Everything inside clenched from such sharp, concentrated caress.

“You’re so wet, baby. Just dripping for me,” Oscar smiled, continuing to rhythmically and tenderly rub your most sensitive spot, making you tremble and literally melt on his fingers. Then his long middle and ring fingers smoothly slid into your tight depth, checking how ready you were. You were ready more than completely — your muscles greedily clenched around his fingers, pushing out even more moisture.

Pulling his hand out, Oscar didn’t let you catch your breath. He grabbed your waist, lifting you slightly higher, and authoritatively spread your knees to the sides, placing them on either side of his hips. You were now directly above his erection, which was pressing like a spear between your buttocks.

“We don’t have much time, you still have to make it,” his low voice seemed to mock. You didn’t care anymore. You were no longer in a hurry. You would apologize to Jade and survive the fact that you’d have to deal with untreated hair for a few weeks. This Oscar right now beneath you was worth forgetting everything in the world. You needed him right now.

It was as if he read your thoughts and directed the head of his cock straight to your wet entrance. His palms firmly fixed your thighs, giving no chance to retreat.

He thrust his hips upward while simultaneously pulling your thighs down, and with one powerful, smooth thrust, he entered you to his full considerable length.

Your loud cry from his penetration drowned in his new, greedy kiss. Oscar filled you so deeply that your vision darkened for a moment from pure, concentrated pleasure. Your hot pussy tightly, without any gap, embraced his thick shaft, taking every centimeter. Oscar froze for a few seconds, breathing heavily into your lips, giving your body time to adjust to his size, and then his hands guided you and you began to move.

You moved up and down, setting your first, still somewhat cautious rhythm. However, maintaining this pace on your own turned out to be a real challenge. Oscar filled you so tightly and deeply that with every movement, powerful bursts of pleasure shot through your body. Your inner muscles clenched his thick shaft like hot vises, and each thrust was accompanied by an open, wet squelching sound that echoed throughout the bedroom.

“Oscar…” you exhaled raggedly, throwing your head back. Strands of your freshly washed hair chaotically scattered over your shoulders, tickling your back.

Oscar grabbed your breasts with one hand and massaged them, heightening your sensations. He knew that breasts were one of your strong erogenous zones. He wanted you to feel maximum pleasure.

Piastri no longer wanted to just lie there and passively receive your caress. Oscar’s large palms authoritatively moved higher, gripping your waist and completely taking over the initiative. He began thrusting his hips upward — sharply, strongly, with hungry and merciless force, which made you completely lose your footing.

Each of his powerful thrusts drove his cock to the hilt, hitting your most sensitive spot inside. The rhythm became frantic and relentless. Your clit rubbed perfectly and tightly against his pubic bone with every movement. A hot wave of concentrated ecstasy began to rapidly coil into a tight, aching knot in the very bottom of your belly. You helplessly gasped for air, clutching his shoulders tightly with your fingers, leaving pale marks from your nails.

“Look at me,” Oscar said hoarsely, almost commandingly.

You opened your eyes, hazy with arousal, and met his gaze. His honey eyes had darkened so much that his pupils had completely swallowed the irises, reflecting pure passion. He looked straight into your eyes, breathing heavily and frequently, while his hips continued relentlessly and deeply driving his cock into your exhausted depths. This eye contact finally finished off your endurance.

“Oscar, I’m about to… I can’t anymore…” you moaned helplessly, feeling the walls of your pussy begin to convulse in small, spasmodic pulses around his flesh.

“Wait just a little longer,” he asked gently, in dissonance with how he was looking at you. But you could no longer hold back this reaction.

“I… can’t…” you moaned while Oscar fucked you senseless. He made a few more deep, strong thrusts, then pulled you toward him. He breathed right into your lips, catching your mouth in a kiss and making several final, hardest and deepest thrusts.

You were overwhelmed by a blinding, devastating wave of orgasm. You moaned loudly and protractedly into his lips, clenching tightly around his cock with spasms and pushing out even more wetness. Feeling your contractions, Oscar let out a low groan. He made two final, quick thrusts, then lifted you off himself, spilling his cum onto your stomach and his own. His abs hardened, and a noticeable shiver ran through his body.

You both limply collapsed onto the bed. You fell onto his chest, breathing heavily and listening to Oscar’s heart beating wildly and loudly. His strong arms smoothly moved to your back, firmly pressing you to him and soothingly stroking your hot skin. Your light makeup was slightly smudged from sweat, but it didn’t matter at all right now.

Several minutes passed in complete, relaxed silence until your breathing finally evened out. Oscar slightly turned his head and left a soft kiss on the top of your head. In his hoarse, still deep voice, a familiar, slightly sly smile broke through:

“What time is it now, baby? Are you on time?”

[piaosc81]

OP81 • SPIN THE BOTTLE

summary: Oscar never wanted to be on this yacht. After losing a bet to Lando, he found himself at a party in Monte Carlo… and met you. It all starts as reluctant eye contact and ended with a kiss that would never have happened if it weren’t for that silly game “spin the bottle”.

pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

word count: 4 500+ k

raiting: Mature

genre: fluff, from stranger to lover, intense mutual tension, rich college students AU, romance, jealousy, kiss with tongue.

warnings: quite detailed and passionate kisses (with tongue, moaning, and physical contact), explicit references to arousal and sexual tension, alcohol, a party, jealousy, possessiveness, mild eroticism without full-fledged sex scenes.

author note: So… I’ve written something again 😍 This story is a little different from everything else I’ve written because it’s written entirely from Oscar’s POV. I don’t know why, but I liked how it turned out. I don’t know if you’ll like this format, but I’m going to keep this story as part of my library anyway 🥰 For the first time, I’m not writing a one-shot with detailed sex scenes. This story doesn’t include such a scene because I decided it just didn’t fit here. Although… maybe… you think it does fit, and I should write Part 2? 🤔 I don’t know—it depends on how much you like this story (which might just end up standing on its own)! In any case, I enjoyed writing this 🧡 I’d love to hear any feedback ❤️‍🔥 Thank you all for your love and support 🤍 It means the world to me 💗

Oscar stood by the railing at the stern of the luxurious yacht, almost ignoring the noise and loud music behind him. The champagne glass pleasantly chilled his fingers, and the night lights of Monte Carlo, glittering like golden sparks on the dark water, were truly mesmerizing.

If one ignored exactly how Oscar had ended up on this deck, one could say the evening was perfect.

Suddenly, someone behind him let out a wild, loud scream. Oscar sharply turned his head. Lando, with a girl whose name Oscar couldn’t remember thrown over his shoulder, was cheerfully spinning around the deck. Her beautiful white dress was so short that it now barely covered her ass, and Lando shamelessly placed his palm on her buttocks and playfully tried to bite them. The girl squealed, struggled, and kicked her bare legs in the air, embodying protest that contained not a drop of real anger.

The rest of the guests — a small group of guys and girls, roughly equal in number as if specially selected so everyone had a pair — watched this scene with excitement. They laughed, whistled, and cheered Lando on. The amount of expensive alcohol in their blood turned any foolishness into a comedic masterpiece.

Oscar involuntarily grimaced as he watched Norris openly groping a girl he had known for maybe three hours at most. Piastri himself would never have ended up here voluntarily. He didn’t even know who owned this three-deck yacht, who all these people around him were, or where Lando had dug them up from. Oscar was supposed to be at home. But one damned poker game had decided everything — a game that had seemed destined to end in his absolute victory.

It had happened a few days earlier in England. Their elite college crew — the “golden children” who hung out together both at the prestigious institution and outside it — had gathered at the Norris family’s country estate. That evening was almost no different from the others: expensive drinks from Mr. Norris's collection, conversations about girls, parties, events in college, and cards.

Oscar had joined this group completely by accident. He had nothing in common with these heirs to billion-dollar fortunes who only thought about clubs. He was the son of Mr. Piastri, one of the leading power unit engineers, and Oscar dreamed of following in his father’s footsteps. That’s why Oscar studied brilliantly, spent hours poring over blueprints and formulas, and burned with the idea of inventing an advanced system for internal combustion engines. He loved sports, passive relaxation, and calm, predictable evenings.

But with Lando’s appearance in his life, Oscar had completely forgotten what peace and quiet meant. They studied in the same group, and when the professor paired them for a complex engineering project, they unexpectedly became friends. Since then, they had been inseparable, even though their friendship resembled an alliance between fire and ice. Lando — charismatic, hot-tempered, impulsive party animal. Oscar — his complete opposite: reserved, sarcastic, calm like the sea in calm weather.

And that evening at the estate had started so ordinarily. Oscar calculated every move, analyzed his friends’ facial expressions, and confidently moved toward victory. On the final deal, he held an ironclad royal flush. Oscar was already mentally celebrating his win when Lando, squinting slyly, threw his cards on the table.

Oscar still thinks it was cheating that he simply didn’t notice. But when Lando laid down a full house, his jaw genuinely dropped. The stake in this game was a wish that could not be refused. And what irony of fate that it was Oscar who ended up the loser.

The wish turned out to be terrible:

“You’re coming with me to party without any objections. Wherever I say. And when I say, and of course you stay there until the very end,” he had said then, as if pronouncing a sentence. Oscar hated parties. They were loud, full of alcohol and debauchery. It was a waste of time that Lando and his friends adored so much — something he would never understand. But he had no choice. He had to fulfill his friend’s wish.

Oscar had only clenched his jaw tightly then, mentally cursing the moment he agreed to sit at the table.

His indignation and displeasure knew no bounds when, literally the next day, Lando burst into his room shouting:

“Are you ready to hang out, my great poker master? Dad is flying to Monaco on business for the weekend, and we’re flying with him on the private jet! Monte Carlo awaits!” Oscar tried to get out of it, offered to repay the debt in any other way, but Norris was unrelenting. A deal is a deal. There was something irritating in how sweetly Lando enjoyed finally dragging his “nerd friend,” as he called him, to an elite party.

That was the reason he was now also watching his friend’s wild behavior. The girl on Lando’s shoulder continued to protest. Oscar’s gaze slid over those present and stopped on you.

You were laughing, and your pink cheeks and slightly glazed eyes indicated that you, like everyone else, were already in the right condition.

Oscar couldn’t look away. You seemed even more beautiful to him than the moment he first saw you. At the beginning of the evening, you had clearly felt exactly the same as he did. Your closed-off posture and short but exhaustive answers to other guests clearly showed that you had ended up on this yacht almost against your will, just for company. But after drinking a little more than half a bottle of champagne, you had noticeably gotten tipsy, relaxed, and finally started smiling sincerely. It wasn’t that Oscar was counting exactly how much you drank, but that’s how it turned out: watching you all evening, his analytical mind automatically recorded every detail about you.

During these three hours, you had talked alone several times, stepping away from the noisy crowd. You told him that you were studying in England but were currently on a break from your studies and had come here for a vacation with your friends. You had ended up on this yacht completely by chance — at the invitation of one of their boyfriends.

Oscar was struck by how easy it was to talk to you. Amid all this pretentious crowd, you were as simple as he was. Your light sarcasm, intelligent thoughts, and soft voice had literally saved him from deadly boredom. All evening his eyes had searched only for you, and even now, watching Lando’s latest antics, Oscar was still looking at how beautifully your eyes were illuminated by the night lights.

Suddenly you tore yourself away from watching Lando, turned your head, and caught Oscar’s gaze. Your lips spread into a warm, slightly tipsy smile. You cheerfully raised your glass and waved at him, inviting him to come closer to the group, which had already settled on the large soft sofas in the lounge area.

Oscar didn’t need to be told twice. Wanting only one thing — to be near you again — he smiled, pushed off the railing, and walked confidently toward the sofas.

He sat down in the free seat next to you, feeling the subtle scent of your perfume, and the whole company unexpectedly found itself together around a common table laden with drinks.

The conversation jumped from one topic to another. Lando, finally releasing the poor girl, heavily plopped down on the sofa next to her, directly opposite you two. He actively participated in the conversation, joking so that everyone laughed. None of you noticed how he picked up an empty bottle of the pink champagne you had just finished from the table and started spinning it.

Oscar had noticed several times how Lando was listening to the conversation and spinning the bottle, but he had no idea what his friend was about to suggest.

Suddenly, interrupting a tall blond guy, Lando shouted:

“Hey everyone! I’ve got an idea!” He jumped up, probably to make sure all the attention was on him. “Let’s play spin the bottle!”

Oscar froze when he realized what his drunk friend, who was already starting to sway from the alcohol, was talking about.

He couldn’t be serious. Oscar wanted to stand up, sit Lando back down, and say that no one wanted to play such a stupid, teenage game. He was sure that at least half of the group would support him. But he was wrong. Loud and unanimous shouts of approval said otherwise.

Everyone wanted to play spin the bottle for kisses. And even you were not against the fun game. Oscar silently shook his head and wished he could punch his friend for yet another stupid idea that would cause discomfort. He didn’t want to kiss anyone here… well, maybe only you, but what were the chances you would land on him?

Of course, thanks to Lando, this wasn’t the typical spin the bottle where it spins and picks a pair to give a quick peck.

The rules were thought out: to avoid any force majeure, the guys sat on one side of the sofas (which had been moved closer together), and the girls on the other. When a pair was chosen, they would kiss with a light peck on the lips. If the same pair came up twice, they had to kiss properly. If the same pair came up a third time, they had to kiss with tongue but only for a few seconds. But the pair that came up a fourth time had to kiss with tongue for a full minute. The pair that came up the most times would win.

The company around them livened up, picking up the idea with loud laughter and whistling. Under the influence of alcohol and the night vibe of Monaco, everyone craved excitement. The girls, chatting cheerfully, began moving to the opposite side of the sofas. You, slightly embarrassed by the tipsiness and general attention, stood up and sat down directly opposite Oscar.

Oscar leaned his elbow on the back of the sofa with displeasure, but still glanced into your eyes with some excitement. He really didn’t want to participate in this teenage chaos. But when Lando started persuading him again, shouting, Oscar noticed your interested, slightly expectant look. Your cheeks, pink from the champagne, and that soft smile affected him in an unexpectedly enchanting way. Next to you, his ironclad rationality began to fail.

The glass spun, blurring in the light of the yacht’s bright lamps. The first few spins passed with loud shouts: some got quick, awkward pecks, someone laughed, and Lando had already managed to kiss the same girl in the white dress several times. Oscar watched all this completely detached until it was the guys’ turn to spin again.

Someone gave the bottle a push. The green neck began to slow down, spinning across the marble table. Oscar lazily followed its trajectory. The bottle stopped. The neck pointed clearly and uncompromisingly at you. And suddenly his heart beat faster.

The crowd around exploded with whistles and shouts. Your eyes met, and he noticed that your cheeks flushed even more, and your gaze darted to the side for a second. Your shyness amid the completely uninhibited party seemed irresistibly attractive and at the same time the sweetest thing he had seen in his entire life.

Oscar leaned forward, resting his palms on the table. His face remained calm, but inside everything tightened like a string. You also leaned forward. When your faces were just a few centimeters apart, Oscar looked into your eyes as if asking for permission. According to the rules of the first round, it was supposed to be just a quick, innocent peck on the lips.

He leaned forward a little more and gently touched your lips with his.

The kiss lasted only a second. Your lips were soft, warm, and had the sweet taste of that same pink champagne. Oscar pulled away as calmly as he had begun, but his fingers on the table clenched almost imperceptibly. He desperately lacked that one second. He returned to his seat, trying to catch your gaze, but you, completely embarrassed by the awkwardness, lowered your eyes to the floor, hiding a smile.

And that somehow added inner confidence and arrogance — like he had a claim on you.

The game continued. The next few times the bottle passed Oscar by, choosing other guys and Lando with various girls. The game dragged on because they still wanted to drink. And also because of the discussion of the kisses.

Oscar switched back into observer mode, but now his attention was exclusively fixed on you.

And then, after a few more spins, one of the girls spun the bottle. The glass spun wildly and… once again smoothly stopped with the neck pointing at you. The bottom of the bottle clearly pointed at Oscar.

“Whoa! Repeat match!” Lando shouted, clapping his hands. “Guys, you know the rules!”

Yes. Oscar remembered the rules. If a pair came up a second time — no just touched lips. You had to move your lips. That was exactly what he wanted.

Everyone around grew even louder than the first time. Oscar felt excitement beginning to boil in his veins. He looked at you again — you were looking at him, and in your eyes, tipsy boldness was already fighting with embarrassment.

This time Oscar didn’t wait. He decisively leaned across the table. You also leaned in to meet him. When his lips touched yours again, he acted much more confidently. Oscar gently took the initiative, slightly turned his head, and made several deep, sensual movements with his lips, drawing in your lower lip. It lasted only a few seconds, as the rules required, but the chemistry between you flared up so strongly that Oscar momentarily lost his breath. You responded to his movement, and it made his heart race wildly.

When you pulled away, the company literally roared with delight. Lando was shouting something about Oscar hiding his talents, but Piastri didn’t hear him. He was looking at your clouded eyes and heavy breathing. Oscar suddenly realized clearly: he desperately, madly loved kissing you. And he wanted more.

The game no longer seemed stupid to him.

The bottle spun again.

Oscar took a sip of champagne, feeling his heart wouldn’t calm down. He begged for the bottle to stop on you again. But in his wish, he didn’t specify exactly who would be opposite you.

The bottle stopped on you, as Oscar had mentally asked, but the bottom landed a little further past him — directly on Lando.

“Ooh, my turn to kiss this doll!” Lando exclaimed, jumping up from the sofa.

Oscar leaned back against the sofa, and his face almost turned pale, turning into a cold stone mask. His calm was now hanging by a thread. He was forced to watch as Lando — his best friend, who usually didn’t take anything seriously — leaned toward you.

You no longer looked shy; you were laughing cheerfully because it was your turn again. This stung Oscar a little. When Lando approached your lips, Oscar couldn’t stand it and looked away. He pretended it was uncomfortable to sit and shifted several times, acting as if he was choosing a comfortable position.

Barely surviving this unexpected surge of jealousy (for him), he continued to watch the bottle.

It chose different pairs. But when the bottle stopped on you and Lando the next two times, he felt that burning pain in his chest again.

Oscar forced himself to watch as you and Lando kissed the second and third times… According to the rules, the kisses became longer and deeper.

Inside Oscar, a wild, dull irritation began to boil. The rationality that had always helped him control his emotions could not now overcome the primal jealousy.

During the time the game continued, Oscar had a few other girls from the group land on him, and he followed the rules, but during those kisses Oscar didn’t even look at them — he tried to catch your reaction.

He wanted to see if you were jealous. But you stubbornly looked to the side or at your knees, ignoring his glances. This irritated him even more.

The emotional peak came when Lando, pulling away from you after the third kiss, breathed heavily and suddenly announced loudly:

“Holy shit… Y/N, you kiss incredibly well! I can’t wait for the bottle to land again. The next round is already minute with tongue, I have to try it!”

A hum of approval and guys’ chuckles rolled across the deck.

At that moment, something finally snapped in Oscar’s head. The calm Piastri evaporated. A mad flash of anger and possessive instinct engulfed him completely. He couldn’t allow Lando to touch you again, especially so intimately. Oscar had to stop this damned game immediately, by any means.

He sharply leaned forward, interrupting someone’s laughter, and his voice sounded surprisingly loud and sharp:

“Listen, what’s with the drinks? The alcohol is running out. Maybe we should take a break — I’ll go get more champagne from the bar?”

It was an extremely clumsy, atypical attempt for Oscar to save the situation, and Lando noticed it instantly. Norris raised an eyebrow in surprise, looking at his friend with a light expression of irony and a sly smile.

“What are you talking about, Osc? There’s still plenty on the table,” one of the guys brushed it off. “What break? We’re just getting started! Keep spinning!”

“Yeah, Oscar, don’t wimp out, let’s continue!” your friend, as he knew, supported.

Oscar mentally swore and sat back down. He felt awkward and angry.

Lando spun the bottle. It spun for a long time, as if mocking Oscar. The tension in the circle reached its maximum. And when the glass finally began to slow down… the neck smoothly pointed at you, and the bottom — directly at Oscar.

He wanted to shout “yes,” as if he had scored a goal in football or hit the ball correctly in cricket. But he restrained himself. Without wasting a second, he decisively leaned toward you to kiss you for the third time during the game.

According to the rules, it had to be with tongue. When Oscar’s lips touched yours, his tongue immediately touched them as well. It was as if he was asking permission to enter, and you let him in without objection. Your tongues intertwined, and it felt like an explosion of fireworks that neither of you had expected. Oscar completely lost control. His tongue slid deeper, exploring you. He was going to erase from your lips any hint that Lando had kissed you before. He was branding you as his, taking your breath away and making your fingers involuntarily grip the edge of the marble table.

When Oscar finally pulled away, the company around literally roared with delight. The guys whistled, and Lando, whose ironic expression suddenly changed to genuine surprise, loudly clapped his hands:

“Whooooa! That wasn’t a kiss, that was straight-up adult movie material!”

Oscar breathed heavily, looking at your swollen, wet lips and clouded gaze. You barely noticeably swallowed air, and this time you didn’t lower your eyes. In your gaze, he read the same shock at how strongly both of you had been pulled into this whirlpool. Now Oscar knew for sure: you felt the same. And that brought back that same arrogant confidence.

He felt something hot and dangerous spreading in his chest — a mixture of triumph and the desire for this game to finally end and leave you alone.

“Well, folks, shall we continue?” Lando rubbed his hands, clearly anticipating. “Next time we might get a full French kiss for a minute and victory.” Lando looked at Oscar and smiled slyly, “May the luckiest win,” and winked.

Oscar felt his jaw tense. He threw a quick glance at you. You were nervously twirling the stem of your glass. Lando’s words touched Oscar’s pride. The stake wasn’t just about winning the game. Oscar couldn’t allow Lando to kiss you more times that evening than he did. He wouldn’t be able to watch if his friend kissed with tongue, so intimately, the girl he liked.

Oscar nodded confidently and shifted his gaze to the bottle. The next spin passed in tension. Oscar barely breathed. When the glass finally slowed and stopped… the neck pointed at another girl, and the bottom at one of the guys. The company made noise, but Oscar felt relief and automatically looked at you.

You raised your gaze to him. And in your eyes, he saw what he wanted: relief and the desire for the bottle to choose you two again.

The game continued for a few more minutes, but every new spin felt like torture to Oscar. When it was finally his turn to spin, he spun the bottle as if everything depended on it.

The bottle spun like a living thing. Everyone fell silent. Even Lando stopped joking. Oscar knew what Lando wanted — to win you — but he wanted it even more strongly.

The glass spun… and spun… and slowly, almost mockingly, stopped.

Neck — on you.

Bottom — on Oscar.

The fourth time.

For a few long seconds, it became strangely quiet on the yacht. Even the music coming from the upper deck seemed to recede into the background. All eyes were fixed only on the bottle.

“Noooo!” Lando was the first to break the silence, theatrically placing his palm on his forehead. “Wasn’t it supposed to be me?”

Oscar raised his eyes to you, and in an instant the world around him ceased to exist. Whistles and encouragements to start the kiss could be heard around them, but neither you nor Oscar heard anyone.

Something tightened in Oscar’s chest.

He had always considered himself a person who could control any situation. Before exams he didn’t get nervous. In sports competitions he didn’t lose his cool head. Even now, among a crowd of drunk students, his face remained almost impassive.

But inside…

Inside, everything was completely different.

Strange.

Just a few hours ago, he had been mentally counting the minutes until the end of this ridiculous party.

Now he caught himself thinking that he was grateful for that one single poker game.

“This is already a problem.” He even smiled to himself. “I’ve only known her for a few hours.”

And that should have been nowhere near enough.

Catastrophically not enough.

But his brain had long stopped working according to its usual laws. He didn’t understand that his attention, which only studying or passion for formulas and calculations could capture, had been brazenly stolen by you. You, who had barely appeared in his field of vision, had become more interesting than anything else in the world.

“Well?” Lando exclaimed impatiently. “Are you going to keep staring at each other until the wedding?”

Laughter rolled through the company. Oscar threw what seemed like a quick, calm glance at his friend, but Lando instantly shut up. He stood up from his seat. Sitting on opposite sides of this wide table and reaching toward each other for such a kiss would simply be ridiculous.

Every step he took around the marble tabletop was accompanied by encouraging shouts from the company, but Oscar heard only the loud, rhythmic beating of his own heart. His face remained impassive on the outside, but inside a real storm was raging, sweeping away all his rational barriers.

When he approached you, you looked up at him a little uncertainly. Your breathing was quick, and you smiled to ease the tension between you that had reached its peak.

Oscar extended his hand, and when you, obeying his silent call, placed your palm in his, he gently but extremely decisively pulled you toward him, making you stand up.

Now there were no obstacles between you. Only a few millimeters of hot Monaco night air.

“Time starts now,” someone shouted.

Oscar wasn’t going to wait for permission or say anything soothing. He placed one hand on your waist, authoritatively pulling you flush against him, and with the other gently buried his fingers in the hair at the back of your head. His lips covered yours with open, burning hunger.

This was nothing like the previous times. This was a real all-consuming moment. His tongue immediately parted your lips, shamelessly and deeply invading inside. The hot, wet, and incredibly sensual kiss instantly erased everything around you from reality.

“Mine,” was the only clear thought beating in his head as he greedily explored every millimeter of your mouth, wildly intertwining his tongue with yours and finally erasing any traces of Norris’s touches.

You quietly moaned right into his lips — a sound that sounded sweeter to him than anything he had heard that day. Your hands landed on his chest and then slid higher, wrapping around his neck. You pressed even closer, responding to the kiss with no less passion, and this movement became the very trigger that launched an irreversible chemical reaction in Oscar’s body.

Through the thin fabric of your dress, he felt the heat of your body. His hand on your waist involuntarily slid lower to the border of your lower back and buttocks, his fingers almost painfully digging into your skin, pressing your hips against his. Oscar realized with horror and at the same time wild delight how sharply and suddenly he had become aroused. This kiss, which was supposed to be only a condition of a stupid game, had turned into something dangerously real, heavy, and deep.

He tilted his head at a different angle, deepening the kiss to the absolute limit. He lightly bit your lower lip, pulling it toward him, making you moan again. Oscar felt everything inside him tightening from the pulsating desire. The rational, always perfectly restrained guy now wanted only one thing: to scoop you up in his arms, carry you to the nearest empty cabin on this damn yacht, lock the door, and not let you out until morning.

The surrounding noise had long turned into a dull background.

“…Five, four, three…” through the haze of passion, Lando’s voice counting down barely broke through.

But Oscar wasn’t going to stop. When “zero” sounded and the crowd exploded with applause, celebrating the end of the game, Piastri continued to kiss you — slowly, deeply, lingeringly, with open pleasure, as if showing everyone present that this was no longer a game. This was territory where entry was forbidden to others.

Finally, when oxygen in his lungs became critically low, Oscar reluctantly tore himself away from your lips. He didn’t release you from his embrace, only pulled back a few centimeters and looked into your eyes.

His chest rose and fell with rapid breathing. His eyes, which now hypnotized your face, had darkened with unconcealed, open desire. Your lips were flushed, swollen, and wet, and your gaze was just as clouded as his.

Oscar took a deep breath, futilely trying to calm his racing heartbeat and hide how strongly his body had reacted to your closeness.

“Congratulations on the victory,” he said to you in a low, quiet voice. Your eyes were magnetically drawn to his lips as he spoke to you. And when you, after spending a second to process the words, smiled, the tension disappeared.

[piaosc81]

I just discovered your blog and let me tell you that you are an AWESOME AMAZING WRITER!!! Wowww chefs kiss.

Love from Spain ❤️❤️❤️

Hi, sweetie 🥺 Oh my God, THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO MUCH for your kind words 😭❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 I’m so happy you found me, and I hope you’ll enjoy my next works just as much 🙏🏻

Hugs and lots of love from Ukraine 🩵💛

[piaosc81]

FAIRY DARY YOU CAME BACKKKKKK 🕊️🩷✨🤝🥺🌷🪻I was waiting for this moment.

I missed you. Getting ready to read your stories again! 🧚

Oh, my dear fairy 🧚🥺🥰🥰❤️‍🔥 I’ve been waiting so long for you 💜☺️ I’m so happy to be back with you because I missed you too 🥺

I’ll be so happy to delight you with new and interesting stories 💞 I LOVE YOU 🫶🏻

[piaosc81]

OP81 • MAKE IT A ROUGH

Summary: You ask your boyfriend Oscar to fuck you rough because, according to what your friends told you at your bachelorette party, women like that. You didn’t know that, because your boyfriend has always been gentle with you during sex. Is it really as good as they say? Oscar will try to show it to you.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

Word count: 3 600+ k

Raiting: 18+

Genre: smut, pwp, romance, established relationship, fluff

Warnings: drunk f!reader, alcohol, high heels, sex in the bathroom, sex against a wall, rough sex, consensual sex without tenderness, inward ending, profanity, hair pulling, spanking, edging, fingering, aftercare, hugs, long-term relationship, domestic bliss, sex during intoxicated

Author note: Hi 🧡 So, this is my first fic in a very long time. I’ve been gone for about 4 months, all because my page was blocked. But yesterday they unblocked it, so I immediately decided to come back with a new short story ❤️‍🔥 I really hope you like it 🤍 I plan to write two series, and I hope you'll enjoy the storylines I've created as well 🫢 Of course, I should mention that English isn't my native language, so you might find some mistakes or awkwardly constructed sentences 😑

You quietly closed the apartment door, trying not to make a single sound. But to be honest, in your condition, that was hard to do. The clock on the wall showed it was already well past midnight. Your friend Mia's bachelorette party—she was getting married in a week—had turned out to be fun, eventful, and filled with a whole bouquet of unforgettable emotions.

Still trying not to make a noise, you tried to take off your shoes, but the high-heeled sandals refused to yield. You leaned against the wall to stay on your feet while fighting with their clasp, and your damn bag kept sliding off your shoulder, blocking your view. You didn't even think to take it off, stubbornly adjusting it while your fingers slipped on the straps, and you quietly swore through your teeth.

Suddenly, the foot you were standing on twisted, and the other one, where you had almost undone the clasp, couldn't hold you. As a result, you lost your balance; the bag flew to the floor with a loud thud, and you fell, barely managing to put your hands out in time.

You froze, listening to the silence in the apartment, afraid of waking Oscar. Not hearing his footsteps, you swore in a whisper again and sat back on your butt, taking up almost the entire hallway space by the door. Bracing your hands against the wall, you tried to get up, and at that moment, the lightbulb in the hallway flared on.

You squinted against the blinding light, noticing the silhouette of your boyfriend.

Oscar stood in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the frame. He slowly, somewhat pointedly, crossed his arms over his chest and looked with mild skepticism at the picture before him: you on the floor, shoes half-removed, hair disheveled, and a drunk but genuine smile on your face.

"Did I wake you?" you giggled, your voice a little slurred from the alcohol.

He raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down.

"No. I wasn't asleep," he answered calmly and stepped closer.

Oscar easily lifted you from the floor as if you weighed nothing and sat you down on the entryway cabinet. Then he squatted down and began helping you take off those damn shoes. His fingers quickly dealt with the straps you had been struggling with for so long.

You leaned in very close to him, your nose almost touching his temple, and said quietly into his ear:

"Are you mad at me?"

He raised his head. Your faces were mere centimeters apart. You saw his gaze slide over your face, lingering on your lips for a split second.

"Why would I be mad at you?" he asked in calm manner so typical of him.

You smiled audibly, making a sound that was more of a heavy exhale, and reached out, cupping his jaw with your palm. Then you slowly ran your fingers upwards, to his ear, and buried them in his soft hair, which you loved so much.

Oscar smelled of shower gel. This scent balanced on the fine line between clean water and exquisite perfume. And even though you smelled it every day, every time it seemed to dissolve the reality around you. You took a deep breath, wanting this scent to settle deep in your lungs.

"If you're not mad... then why are you frowning?" you asked with a touch of vexation in your voice. The corner of his lips lifted barely noticeably in a half-smile you knew so well.

"I think that's just my normal facial expression," he replied.

You didn't react to his remark; instead, for some reason, you started carefully examining his face: sharp cheekbones, dark eyes adorned with long eyelashes that any girl would envy, slightly tousled hair after you had rummaged through it.

"You're so handsome..." you mumbled sincerely.

Oscar chuckled, looking right into your eyes.

"Am I only handsome to you when you're so drunk? Or do you think so when you're sober, too?"

You laughed, throwing your head back.

"You're always handsome to me. But right now... right now you're not just handsome. You're also sexy as hell..."

He laughed quietly, stood up, and scooped you into his arms. You snuggled against his warm chest with great pleasure, not protesting his actions in the slightest.

"You need to take a shower and wash your face, Love."

"You'll wash me, right? Because I... I'm really tired," you dragged out in a capricious, drunk voice.

He sighed, but didn't say anything else, silently carrying you to the bathroom. Oscar helped you step into the shower stall and waited nearby while you washed, making sure you didn't slip. He listened to your rambling, cheerful stories about the evening: who said what, how you danced, what the cocktails were like, and which of your friends had found new boyfriends.

When you stepped out of the shower, he wrapped you in a large, soft towel and sat you on the counter in front of the large mirror. Oscar took some makeup wipes and stood facing you. You smiled, secretly admiring his more-serious-than-usual facial expression. He looked as if he were preparing for a major undertaking, like memorizing a strategy or solving some serious problem.

"Close your eyes," he said.

You obediently closed them, and the smile slowly slid from your lips. He began to very carefully wipe away the mascara, eyeshadow, and lipstick. His movements were slow and gentle. You felt him breathing very close.

"Do you know you have the longest eyelashes in the world?" you mumbled without opening your eyes.

"Do I?" he asked playfully.

"I'm telling you. They are seriously envy-inducing. How do you live with them?"

Oscar chuckled.

"It's actually hard, but I do everything in my power," he joked.

Oscar finished wiping your face with a soft towel after you had washed up. He wanted to take you by the arms to lead you to the bedroom, but instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck. The kiss was unexpected for him—it was a mix of your blatant desire and the tart aftertaste of rum.

Oscar responded instantly, pulling you flush against him, and you felt a hot pulsation spread through your body. Evidently, he had missed you too during your whole day apart.

You hadn't planned on having sex with him tonight, especially being "tipsy," but you couldn't resist: his care for drunken you turned out to be far too seductive. When you ran out of breath and finally pulled away, you ran your fingers into his hair, trying to tame the strands that never obeyed.

A tempting smile appeared on your lips, and you whispered:

"Do you want to sleep right now?"

He looked at you with a slight ironic smile.

"I planned to. But it seems you don't really want to."

You lazily touched his lips again, gliding over them. You tried to stretch, deepen, and prolong this kiss, forcing him to react to you exactly the way you wanted. Having savored his plump lips, you broke the kiss and, looking right into his eyes, asked:

"Do you love me?"

"I love you," he answered immediately, without any pause. "Why did you suddenly want to hear that?"

You ran a finger over his chest, and then slowly traced a pattern with your nail. This question was more to affirm the undeniable and for reassurance regarding something you wanted to try with him. You needed to hear these words as confirmation that he would do whatever you asked. But he didn't need to know that. You started from afar.

"You are always so gentle... so attentive to me. You always make me happy..."

He raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out where you were going with this.

"You make me happy too..." he began in response, but you pressed a finger to his lips, stopping his answer.

You licked your lips, tasting the traces of his kiss, and smiled again with a drunk, very explicit smile.

"Do you want to fuck me right now?"

Oscar froze for a moment. You noticed how he held his breath, how his Adam's apple bobbed. He smiled lightly, trying to keep his composure.

"It's late. And you're 'tired' after the party..." Oscar stated.

You narrowed your eyes, not taking your hand off his chest.

"The shower was very refreshing..." you justified coquettishly. Oscar laughed ironically, raising his eyebrows.

"Really? Refreshed you so well that you're full of energy?" he sounded absolutely mocking. You tilted your head slightly to the side, biting your lower lip.

"Yeah... And you know, this day would officially become the best one in the last few weeks if my boyfriend fucked me right now..."

Your words were accompanied by a downward movement of your hand—you slid your fingers under the waistband of his shorts, then under his boxers, touching his warm, already hardening flesh. Oscar barely noticeably drew in a breath and lowered his eyes to your hand, which was hidden beneath his shorts.

You slowly ran your hand along his entire length, as far as the tight fabric allowed.

"It's better not to start right now..." he barely managed to say. His breath hitched.

You pressed more insistently, smiling and admiring his face.

"Are you sure you want me to stop? You're already turned on... and hard."

You continued to stroke him, feeling his fingers gripping your waist tighter and tighter. You found the head of his cock with your thumb and felt liquid seeping from it. You rubbed the head a few times, smearing the pre-cum. Oscar exhaled nervously, closing his eyes.

Suddenly, you pulled your hand out.

Oscar wasn't expecting such an abrupt stop. He watched as you put the finger that had just been on his cock into your mouth and licked off his pre-cum.

His Adam's apple bobbed nervously again. You clasped your hands around his neck and pulled his head down to give Oscar a quick kiss. You stood in an embrace; he was breathing heavily, and the fabric of his shorts was pulled taut. And you could clearly feel this arousal pressing against your thighs.

You broke the silence between you:

"By the way, I forgot to tell you that at Mia's party, the girls started an interesting conversation..." Oscar was listening intently and trying to hold back, but you were sure it was hard for him. "About sex. That... can you imagine, according to statistics, women like rough sex more than men do. All my friends agreed as one. And when it was my turn... I had nothing to say. I just turned it into a joke and changed the subject."

Oscar tilted his head, looking at you with quiet interest.

"Why didn't you have anything to say?"

You ran your fingers over his chest, drawing an incomprehensible pattern.

"Because how could I talk about something I had never experienced?" You raised your eyes to Oscar, and what you saw there pleased you. The lust that appeared there was provoked not only by your actions but also by your words. This was exactly what you needed right now to see things through to the end. "I got to thinking, and it's true, you've never really had rough sex with me. We always do... it gently. Sensually. And I like it. But... I got curious, what is it like—when you're not so gentle... is it just as arousing?"

He was silent for a second, studying your face. Then his furrowed brows relaxed slightly; he slid his hands down from your waist to your buttocks, gently stroking them.

"You want rough sex?" he asked bluntly. The way he said it made a warm sensation flutter in your lower belly, and only now did you realize just how wet you already were.

"I'd like to try," you admitted. "Could you fuck me roughly?" you asked, as if throwing down a challenge.

Oh.

Oscar smiled. You asked as if rough sex was something entirely unknown to him, and it amused him.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" he sounded ironic. But his eyes shone with a dark fire you rarely saw.

"Do you really want me to stop being gentle?" he whispered, almost touching your lips. His voice grew lower, rougher. "Do you want me to take you the way you're asking?"

You barely had time to nod before he abruptly grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up, pressing your back against the cold bathroom wall. Your towel parted and fell to the floor. You let out a quiet gasp of surprise, but the sound quickly turned into a moan as Oscar smashed his lips roughly onto yours. The kiss was nothing like before—hungry, demanding, almost cruel. He bit your lower lip, thrusting his tongue deep, as if he wanted to swallow you whole.

With one hand, he gripped your buttocks tightly, and with the other, he grabbed your hair and pulled back hard, forcing you to arch your neck. You moaned into his mouth, feeling a wave of hot arousal rush through your body.

"Let's see if I can not be gentle," he rasped, tearing away from your lips.

He spun you around to face the wall, pressing your breasts against the cold tiles. You barely managed to brace your palms against it before Oscar kicked your legs further apart. His hand slid roughly between your thighs, his fingers immediately finding your wet slit.

"I love it when you're this wet for me," he said into your ear, biting the lobe. Two fingers thrust into you unusually sharply, and you moaned loudly, arching back into him.

His movements were just as sharp and deep. His other hand found your clit. He was fucking you with his fingers while his hard cock pressed against your thigh. It felt like something entirely different. It was rough, and you loved it.

"Oscar... fuck..." you breathed out, pressing your ass against him.

He pulled his fingers out, and you heard him shoving his shorts down. The next second, you felt his hard, hot cock slap hard against your wet sex. He dragged the head along your slit a few times, teasing, and then thrust inside you all the way.

You cried out loudly. He didn't do it slowly and gently like you were used to. He was rough, deep, bordering on painful—exactly the way you wanted it.

He didn't kiss your neck to soothe the pain of penetration. Instead, he grabbed your breast and squeezed it with palpable force, making you tremble with arousal down to your fingertips.

Oscar didn't give you enough time to adjust: he grabbed your hair, pulling your head back. His hot breath scorched your cheeks, and then he started fucking you with hard, deep thrusts. Every thrust echoed with the loud slap of skin against skin.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asked, breathing heavily, tightening his grip on your hair.

"Fuck..." slipped out of you at his next deep thrust as he hit that exact sensitive spot. "Yes... yes, just like that..." you moaned, bracing your hands against the wall. Each of his thrusts knocked the breath out of you, making you shudder over and over.

Oscar let go of your hair to grab your hips with both hands. He yanked you toward him, plunging even deeper, even harder. You felt his balls slapping against your pussy, his nails digging into your skin so hard they would definitely leave marks.

He leaned down, burying a kiss into your neck, sucking on the skin until it tingled, and then abruptly shoved you forward, forcing you to bend over even lower. The new angle allowed him to enter you differently—and you almost screamed when he started pounding your G-spot over and over.

"Louder, Love. Is this really not rough enough for you to be so quiet?" he asked, slapping your ass. You cried out. Your walls clamped down around his cock, making him suddenly stops. Your heavy breaths mingled. He slapped you again, and you squeezed him tight with your inner walls.

"Do you like it when I spank you?" you heard his voice from behind, sounding more surprised than questioning.

"Yes..." you breathed, barely recognizing your own voice, which had broken into a rasp. "More... please, Oscar..."

It was as if you had pushed some hidden button in his mind. He hesitated no more. The next slap was harder, burning a hot trail onto your skin, and was immediately followed by a sharp, merciless thrust inside you. You cried out, your eyes flying wide open. The walls of the bathroom seemed to blur before you, and your entire body turned into one single, exposed nerve.

He caught a rhythm—wild, primal, and entirely devoid of usual restraint you knew. A slap, a deep thrust, your moan. And again. You dug your fingers into the cool tiles of the wall, struggling to stay on your feet while he completely subjected you to his power.

The alcohol in your blood mixed with adrenaline, erasing all boundaries. You felt only his harsh grip on your hips, the stinging pain on your ass that instantly morphed into explosive pleasure, and his hot breath scalding your neck.

He cupped your jaw with his hand and pulled you around for a kiss. His tongue dominantly filled your mouth, entwining with yours, which you were absolutely not opposed to. His lips devoured yours with incredible persistence.

"You are incredible..." Oscar rasped, breaking the kiss, his voice vibrating with tension. He pressed you against the wall even harder, his movements becoming frantic.

The wave of an orgasm washed over you. You moaned loudly, arching like a bow, unable to hold back either your trembling or the sounds. Your inner muscles instinctively clenched around him, and you heard Oscar curse sharply, hoarsely through his teeth. He gave a few more rapid, deep thrusts before freezing, buried inside you to the hilt. You felt him pulsing inside, and his cum filling you as he reached the finish with you.

For a few moments, you stood in absolute silence, broken only by your heavy, synchronized breathing. Oscar leaned forward slowly, resting his forehead on your shoulder. His hands, which just a minute ago were so ruthlessly gripping your thighs, now slid up, gently wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his chest.

He carefully pulled out of you, causing you to sigh softly at the emptiness, and immediately turned you to face him. Your legs could barely hold you up, so you collapsed exhaustedly against his chest, burying your face in his neck.

He kissed the top of your head softly, burying his face in your damp hair.

"How are you?" he asked quietly. The usual boundless tenderness and care had reappeared in his voice.

You smiled, feeling a pleasant ache all over your body and the phantom sensation of him still inside you. You lifted your head, looking into his eyes.

"The girls didn't lie. It was... incredible," you concluded. You felt his chest rumble with a quiet laugh.

"God, I had no idea you were such a naughty girl. Getting turned on by spankings? My sweet and gentle girl?"

You smiled faintly, and despite your exhaustion, lightly punched him in the chest. There wasn't an ounce of strength in the gesture, only a playful retort.

"Look who's talking," you purred, narrowing your eyes slyly, even though your eyelids were already growing traitorously heavy. "At least I just asked for it. But you... you stepped into the role a little too quickly and naturally, Oscar. It seems one of us enjoyed it just as much."

He let out a loud, genuine laugh, the deep, velvety sound echoing off the bathroom's tiled walls. Oscar caught the hand you had just "hit" him with, brought it to his lips, and tenderly kissed your knuckles.

"I have to admit, you know how to surprise me, and I've truly discovered new horizons for myself," he replied with a smile. His gaze slowly slid over your face, lingering on your kiss-swollen lips and the messy hair he had ruthlessly gripped in his fist just minutes ago. "But to be honest, what surprised and turned me on the most at the same time was that you wanted to and allowed us to cross the line."

"I felt the same way," you said quietly. Exhaustion was making itself known. You felt your legs finally refusing to support you. The adrenaline was plummeting, leaving behind a pleasant weakness. "Let's go to bed," you suggested.

However, Oscar insisted that you take a quick shower together. The sex was intense, and you both needed one.

After a quick shower, for the second time that evening, you headed to bed. The cool air of the bedroom felt like a true salvation after the hot, humid air of the bathroom. Oscar carefully helped you into bed and immediately lay down beside you. He reached out and pulled the blanket over both of you, hiding your bodies underneath it from the night chill.

You instinctively scooted closer, throwing a leg over his thigh, and comfortably rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat gradually returning to its normal rhythm. Oscar wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, while his fingers began slowly, soothingly combing through the strands of your hair.

"You know..." you murmured quietly through sleep, barely moving your lips. "Next time the girls bring up that conversation about sex... I'll definitely have something to share."

You paused for a moment, settling sweetly into his embrace.

"But I won't tell them a thing."

"Why not?" he wondered. You couldn't see his face, but you distinctly felt him smile as his lips brushed against the top of your head.

"Because you are mine. And all your hidden talents are for me alone," you mumbled in a possessive, slightly petulant tone, feeling your consciousness finally slipping into sleep.

The last thing you felt before falling asleep was the warm breath on your skin and his soft kiss on your temple.

[withloveiriss]

decided to whore around before I slept & this did not disappoint 😛🙂‍↕️

you need to read babe @freddiefromthefandoms 🫠

[piaosc81]

Oh, I'm so happy I was able to satisfy you before sleepy ☺️ Thanks for reading (and for recommending it 🥰)

[piaosc81]

Ahhh! I’m so happy to wake up to a new story from you 🥺🥺! Can’t wait to read it <3

Ahh, I'm also so happy that my blog is finally up and running again 🥺❤️‍🔥 I really hope you like it 💞

[piaosc81]

OP81 • MAKE IT A ROUGH

Summary: You ask your boyfriend Oscar to fuck you rough because, according to what your friends told you at your bachelorette party, women like that. You didn’t know that, because your boyfriend has always been gentle with you during sex. Is it really as good as they say? Oscar will try to show it to you.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

Word count: 3 600+ k

Raiting: 18+

Genre: smut, pwp, romance, established relationship, fluff

Warnings: drunk f!reader, alcohol, high heels, sex in the bathroom, sex against a wall, rough sex, consensual sex without tenderness, inward ending, profanity, hair pulling, spanking, edging, fingering, aftercare, hugs, long-term relationship, domestic bliss, sex during intoxicated

Author note: Hi 🧡 So, this is my first fic in a very long time. I’ve been gone for about 4 months, all because my page was blocked. But yesterday they unblocked it, so I immediately decided to come back with a new short story ❤️‍🔥 I really hope you like it 🤍 I plan to write two series, and I hope you'll enjoy the storylines I've created as well 🫢 Of course, I should mention that English isn't my native language, so you might find some mistakes or awkwardly constructed sentences 😑

You quietly closed the apartment door, trying not to make a single sound. But to be honest, in your condition, that was hard to do. The clock on the wall showed it was already well past midnight. Your friend Mia's bachelorette party—she was getting married in a week—had turned out to be fun, eventful, and filled with a whole bouquet of unforgettable emotions.

Still trying not to make a noise, you tried to take off your shoes, but the high-heeled sandals refused to yield. You leaned against the wall to stay on your feet while fighting with their clasp, and your damn bag kept sliding off your shoulder, blocking your view. You didn't even think to take it off, stubbornly adjusting it while your fingers slipped on the straps, and you quietly swore through your teeth.

Suddenly, the foot you were standing on twisted, and the other one, where you had almost undone the clasp, couldn't hold you. As a result, you lost your balance; the bag flew to the floor with a loud thud, and you fell, barely managing to put your hands out in time.

You froze, listening to the silence in the apartment, afraid of waking Oscar. Not hearing his footsteps, you swore in a whisper again and sat back on your butt, taking up almost the entire hallway space by the door. Bracing your hands against the wall, you tried to get up, and at that moment, the lightbulb in the hallway flared on.

You squinted against the blinding light, noticing the silhouette of your boyfriend.

Oscar stood in the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the frame. He slowly, somewhat pointedly, crossed his arms over his chest and looked with mild skepticism at the picture before him: you on the floor, shoes half-removed, hair disheveled, and a drunk but genuine smile on your face.

"Did I wake you?" you giggled, your voice a little slurred from the alcohol.

He raised an eyebrow, looking you up and down.

"No. I wasn't asleep," he answered calmly and stepped closer.

Oscar easily lifted you from the floor as if you weighed nothing and sat you down on the entryway cabinet. Then he squatted down and began helping you take off those damn shoes. His fingers quickly dealt with the straps you had been struggling with for so long.

You leaned in very close to him, your nose almost touching his temple, and said quietly into his ear:

"Are you mad at me?"

He raised his head. Your faces were mere centimeters apart. You saw his gaze slide over your face, lingering on your lips for a split second.

"Why would I be mad at you?" he asked in calm manner so typical of him.

You smiled audibly, making a sound that was more of a heavy exhale, and reached out, cupping his jaw with your palm. Then you slowly ran your fingers upwards, to his ear, and buried them in his soft hair, which you loved so much.

Oscar smelled of shower gel. This scent balanced on the fine line between clean water and exquisite perfume. And even though you smelled it every day, every time it seemed to dissolve the reality around you. You took a deep breath, wanting this scent to settle deep in your lungs.

"If you're not mad... then why are you frowning?" you asked with a touch of vexation in your voice. The corner of his lips lifted barely noticeably in a half-smile you knew so well.

"I think that's just my normal facial expression," he replied.

You didn't react to his remark; instead, for some reason, you started carefully examining his face: sharp cheekbones, dark eyes adorned with long eyelashes that any girl would envy, slightly tousled hair after you had rummaged through it.

"You're so handsome..." you mumbled sincerely.

Oscar chuckled, looking right into your eyes.

"Am I only handsome to you when you're so drunk? Or do you think so when you're sober, too?"

You laughed, throwing your head back.

"You're always handsome to me. But right now... right now you're not just handsome. You're also sexy as hell..."

He laughed quietly, stood up, and scooped you into his arms. You snuggled against his warm chest with great pleasure, not protesting his actions in the slightest.

"You need to take a shower and wash your face, Love."

"You'll wash me, right? Because I... I'm really tired," you dragged out in a capricious, drunk voice.

He sighed, but didn't say anything else, silently carrying you to the bathroom. Oscar helped you step into the shower stall and waited nearby while you washed, making sure you didn't slip. He listened to your rambling, cheerful stories about the evening: who said what, how you danced, what the cocktails were like, and which of your friends had found new boyfriends.

When you stepped out of the shower, he wrapped you in a large, soft towel and sat you on the counter in front of the large mirror. Oscar took some makeup wipes and stood facing you. You smiled, secretly admiring his more-serious-than-usual facial expression. He looked as if he were preparing for a major undertaking, like memorizing a strategy or solving some serious problem.

"Close your eyes," he said.

You obediently closed them, and the smile slowly slid from your lips. He began to very carefully wipe away the mascara, eyeshadow, and lipstick. His movements were slow and gentle. You felt him breathing very close.

"Do you know you have the longest eyelashes in the world?" you mumbled without opening your eyes.

"Do I?" he asked playfully.

"I'm telling you. They are seriously envy-inducing. How do you live with them?"

Oscar chuckled.

"It's actually hard, but I do everything in my power," he joked.

Oscar finished wiping your face with a soft towel after you had washed up. He wanted to take you by the arms to lead you to the bedroom, but instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck. The kiss was unexpected for him—it was a mix of your blatant desire and the tart aftertaste of rum.

Oscar responded instantly, pulling you flush against him, and you felt a hot pulsation spread through your body. Evidently, he had missed you too during your whole day apart.

You hadn't planned on having sex with him tonight, especially being "tipsy," but you couldn't resist: his care for drunken you turned out to be far too seductive. When you ran out of breath and finally pulled away, you ran your fingers into his hair, trying to tame the strands that never obeyed.

A tempting smile appeared on your lips, and you whispered:

"Do you want to sleep right now?"

He looked at you with a slight ironic smile.

"I planned to. But it seems you don't really want to."

You lazily touched his lips again, gliding over them. You tried to stretch, deepen, and prolong this kiss, forcing him to react to you exactly the way you wanted. Having savored his plump lips, you broke the kiss and, looking right into his eyes, asked:

"Do you love me?"

"I love you," he answered immediately, without any pause. "Why did you suddenly want to hear that?"

You ran a finger over his chest, and then slowly traced a pattern with your nail. This question was more to affirm the undeniable and for reassurance regarding something you wanted to try with him. You needed to hear these words as confirmation that he would do whatever you asked. But he didn't need to know that. You started from afar.

"You are always so gentle... so attentive to me. You always make me happy..."

He raised an eyebrow, trying to figure out where you were going with this.

"You make me happy too..." he began in response, but you pressed a finger to his lips, stopping his answer.

You licked your lips, tasting the traces of his kiss, and smiled again with a drunk, very explicit smile.

"Do you want to fuck me right now?"

Oscar froze for a moment. You noticed how he held his breath, how his Adam's apple bobbed. He smiled lightly, trying to keep his composure.

"It's late. And you're 'tired' after the party..." Oscar stated.

You narrowed your eyes, not taking your hand off his chest.

"The shower was very refreshing..." you justified coquettishly. Oscar laughed ironically, raising his eyebrows.

"Really? Refreshed you so well that you're full of energy?" he sounded absolutely mocking. You tilted your head slightly to the side, biting your lower lip.

"Yeah... And you know, this day would officially become the best one in the last few weeks if my boyfriend fucked me right now..."

Your words were accompanied by a downward movement of your hand—you slid your fingers under the waistband of his shorts, then under his boxers, touching his warm, already hardening flesh. Oscar barely noticeably drew in a breath and lowered his eyes to your hand, which was hidden beneath his shorts.

You slowly ran your hand along his entire length, as far as the tight fabric allowed.

"It's better not to start right now..." he barely managed to say. His breath hitched.

You pressed more insistently, smiling and admiring his face.

"Are you sure you want me to stop? You're already turned on... and hard."

You continued to stroke him, feeling his fingers gripping your waist tighter and tighter. You found the head of his cock with your thumb and felt liquid seeping from it. You rubbed the head a few times, smearing the pre-cum. Oscar exhaled nervously, closing his eyes.

Suddenly, you pulled your hand out.

Oscar wasn't expecting such an abrupt stop. He watched as you put the finger that had just been on his cock into your mouth and licked off his pre-cum.

His Adam's apple bobbed nervously again. You clasped your hands around his neck and pulled his head down to give Oscar a quick kiss. You stood in an embrace; he was breathing heavily, and the fabric of his shorts was pulled taut. And you could clearly feel this arousal pressing against your thighs.

You broke the silence between you:

"By the way, I forgot to tell you that at Mia's party, the girls started an interesting conversation..." Oscar was listening intently and trying to hold back, but you were sure it was hard for him. "About sex. That... can you imagine, according to statistics, women like rough sex more than men do. All my friends agreed as one. And when it was my turn... I had nothing to say. I just turned it into a joke and changed the subject."

Oscar tilted his head, looking at you with quiet interest.

"Why didn't you have anything to say?"

You ran your fingers over his chest, drawing an incomprehensible pattern.

"Because how could I talk about something I had never experienced?" You raised your eyes to Oscar, and what you saw there pleased you. The lust that appeared there was provoked not only by your actions but also by your words. This was exactly what you needed right now to see things through to the end. "I got to thinking, and it's true, you've never really had rough sex with me. We always do... it gently. Sensually. And I like it. But... I got curious, what is it like—when you're not so gentle... is it just as arousing?"

He was silent for a second, studying your face. Then his furrowed brows relaxed slightly; he slid his hands down from your waist to your buttocks, gently stroking them.

"You want rough sex?" he asked bluntly. The way he said it made a warm sensation flutter in your lower belly, and only now did you realize just how wet you already were.

"I'd like to try," you admitted. "Could you fuck me roughly?" you asked, as if throwing down a challenge.

Oh.

Oscar smiled. You asked as if rough sex was something entirely unknown to him, and it amused him.

"Are you seriously asking me that?" he sounded ironic. But his eyes shone with a dark fire you rarely saw.

"Do you really want me to stop being gentle?" he whispered, almost touching your lips. His voice grew lower, rougher. "Do you want me to take you the way you're asking?"

You barely had time to nod before he abruptly grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up, pressing your back against the cold bathroom wall. Your towel parted and fell to the floor. You let out a quiet gasp of surprise, but the sound quickly turned into a moan as Oscar smashed his lips roughly onto yours. The kiss was nothing like before—hungry, demanding, almost cruel. He bit your lower lip, thrusting his tongue deep, as if he wanted to swallow you whole.

With one hand, he gripped your buttocks tightly, and with the other, he grabbed your hair and pulled back hard, forcing you to arch your neck. You moaned into his mouth, feeling a wave of hot arousal rush through your body.

"Let's see if I can not be gentle," he rasped, tearing away from your lips.

He spun you around to face the wall, pressing your breasts against the cold tiles. You barely managed to brace your palms against it before Oscar kicked your legs further apart. His hand slid roughly between your thighs, his fingers immediately finding your wet slit.

"I love it when you're this wet for me," he said into your ear, biting the lobe. Two fingers thrust into you unusually sharply, and you moaned loudly, arching back into him.

His movements were just as sharp and deep. His other hand found your clit. He was fucking you with his fingers while his hard cock pressed against your thigh. It felt like something entirely different. It was rough, and you loved it.

"Oscar... fuck..." you breathed out, pressing your ass against him.

He pulled his fingers out, and you heard him shoving his shorts down. The next second, you felt his hard, hot cock slap hard against your wet sex. He dragged the head along your slit a few times, teasing, and then thrust inside you all the way.

You cried out loudly. He didn't do it slowly and gently like you were used to. He was rough, deep, bordering on painful—exactly the way you wanted it.

He didn't kiss your neck to soothe the pain of penetration. Instead, he grabbed your breast and squeezed it with palpable force, making you tremble with arousal down to your fingertips.

Oscar didn't give you enough time to adjust: he grabbed your hair, pulling your head back. His hot breath scorched your cheeks, and then he started fucking you with hard, deep thrusts. Every thrust echoed with the loud slap of skin against skin.

"Is this what you wanted?" he asked, breathing heavily, tightening his grip on your hair.

"Fuck..." slipped out of you at his next deep thrust as he hit that exact sensitive spot. "Yes... yes, just like that..." you moaned, bracing your hands against the wall. Each of his thrusts knocked the breath out of you, making you shudder over and over.

Oscar let go of your hair to grab your hips with both hands. He yanked you toward him, plunging even deeper, even harder. You felt his balls slapping against your pussy, his nails digging into your skin so hard they would definitely leave marks.

He leaned down, burying a kiss into your neck, sucking on the skin until it tingled, and then abruptly shoved you forward, forcing you to bend over even lower. The new angle allowed him to enter you differently—and you almost screamed when he started pounding your G-spot over and over.

"Louder, Love. Is this really not rough enough for you to be so quiet?" he asked, slapping your ass. You cried out. Your walls clamped down around his cock, making him suddenly stops. Your heavy breaths mingled. He slapped you again, and you squeezed him tight with your inner walls.

"Do you like it when I spank you?" you heard his voice from behind, sounding more surprised than questioning.

"Yes..." you breathed, barely recognizing your own voice, which had broken into a rasp. "More... please, Oscar..."

It was as if you had pushed some hidden button in his mind. He hesitated no more. The next slap was harder, burning a hot trail onto your skin, and was immediately followed by a sharp, merciless thrust inside you. You cried out, your eyes flying wide open. The walls of the bathroom seemed to blur before you, and your entire body turned into one single, exposed nerve.

He caught a rhythm—wild, primal, and entirely devoid of usual restraint you knew. A slap, a deep thrust, your moan. And again. You dug your fingers into the cool tiles of the wall, struggling to stay on your feet while he completely subjected you to his power.

The alcohol in your blood mixed with adrenaline, erasing all boundaries. You felt only his harsh grip on your hips, the stinging pain on your ass that instantly morphed into explosive pleasure, and his hot breath scalding your neck.

He cupped your jaw with his hand and pulled you around for a kiss. His tongue dominantly filled your mouth, entwining with yours, which you were absolutely not opposed to. His lips devoured yours with incredible persistence.

"You are incredible..." Oscar rasped, breaking the kiss, his voice vibrating with tension. He pressed you against the wall even harder, his movements becoming frantic.

The wave of an orgasm washed over you. You moaned loudly, arching like a bow, unable to hold back either your trembling or the sounds. Your inner muscles instinctively clenched around him, and you heard Oscar curse sharply, hoarsely through his teeth. He gave a few more rapid, deep thrusts before freezing, buried inside you to the hilt. You felt him pulsing inside, and his cum filling you as he reached the finish with you.

For a few moments, you stood in absolute silence, broken only by your heavy, synchronized breathing. Oscar leaned forward slowly, resting his forehead on your shoulder. His hands, which just a minute ago were so ruthlessly gripping your thighs, now slid up, gently wrapping around your waist and pulling you against his chest.

He carefully pulled out of you, causing you to sigh softly at the emptiness, and immediately turned you to face him. Your legs could barely hold you up, so you collapsed exhaustedly against his chest, burying your face in his neck.

He kissed the top of your head softly, burying his face in your damp hair.

"How are you?" he asked quietly. The usual boundless tenderness and care had reappeared in his voice.

You smiled, feeling a pleasant ache all over your body and the phantom sensation of him still inside you. You lifted your head, looking into his eyes.

"The girls didn't lie. It was... incredible," you concluded. You felt his chest rumble with a quiet laugh.

"God, I had no idea you were such a naughty girl. Getting turned on by spankings? My sweet and gentle girl?"

You smiled faintly, and despite your exhaustion, lightly punched him in the chest. There wasn't an ounce of strength in the gesture, only a playful retort.

"Look who's talking," you purred, narrowing your eyes slyly, even though your eyelids were already growing traitorously heavy. "At least I just asked for it. But you... you stepped into the role a little too quickly and naturally, Oscar. It seems one of us enjoyed it just as much."

He let out a loud, genuine laugh, the deep, velvety sound echoing off the bathroom's tiled walls. Oscar caught the hand you had just "hit" him with, brought it to his lips, and tenderly kissed your knuckles.

"I have to admit, you know how to surprise me, and I've truly discovered new horizons for myself," he replied with a smile. His gaze slowly slid over your face, lingering on your kiss-swollen lips and the messy hair he had ruthlessly gripped in his fist just minutes ago. "But to be honest, what surprised and turned me on the most at the same time was that you wanted to and allowed us to cross the line."

"I felt the same way," you said quietly. Exhaustion was making itself known. You felt your legs finally refusing to support you. The adrenaline was plummeting, leaving behind a pleasant weakness. "Let's go to bed," you suggested.

However, Oscar insisted that you take a quick shower together. The sex was intense, and you both needed one.

After a quick shower, for the second time that evening, you headed to bed. The cool air of the bedroom felt like a true salvation after the hot, humid air of the bathroom. Oscar carefully helped you into bed and immediately lay down beside you. He reached out and pulled the blanket over both of you, hiding your bodies underneath it from the night chill.

You instinctively scooted closer, throwing a leg over his thigh, and comfortably rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat gradually returning to its normal rhythm. Oscar wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, while his fingers began slowly, soothingly combing through the strands of your hair.

"You know..." you murmured quietly through sleep, barely moving your lips. "Next time the girls bring up that conversation about sex... I'll definitely have something to share."

You paused for a moment, settling sweetly into his embrace.

"But I won't tell them a thing."

"Why not?" he wondered. You couldn't see his face, but you distinctly felt him smile as his lips brushed against the top of your head.

"Because you are mine. And all your hidden talents are for me alone," you mumbled in a possessive, slightly petulant tone, feeling your consciousness finally slipping into sleep.

The last thing you felt before falling asleep was the warm breath on your skin and his soft kiss on your temple.

[piaosc81]

Hi, my loves ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 MY BLOG IS BACK UP AND RUNNING❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

FINALLY 😭

It’s up and running today!! And look at what they told me about why my blog was blocked:

“Hello, Your blog was restricted by our anti-spam system. We’ve restored full functionality to your blog and made sure this won’t happen again. Within about 24 hours, everything should be working normally. We’re sorry for the inconvenience! Thanks, Tumblr Trust & Safety”

I don’t understand why? I didn’t do anything suspicious 😅

So now that my blog is up and running, I’ll post an update for you soon 🫢 I hope you’ll love my new stories! I’m so happy to be back 😭❤️‍🔥

[piaosc81]

Hi Dary i hope you’re doing well we miss you 🥺

Hi, my love 💜😭 Oh, I'm kind of okay 🥺 I really miss my page! Yesterday I wrote to tech support again so they'd do something about my page!

I’m working on a few series for you and have some ideas for a one-shot. I REALLY WANT TO SHARE THESE WITH YOU ❤️‍🔥 As soon as my page is unblocked, I’ll post something right away ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 I LOVE YOU AND MISS YOU SO MUCH😭😭

[piaosc81]

Hi! it’s been a while but i hope your ac can be fixed soon cuz i really want to read your new ficsss❤️ ttg is a masterpiece and i hv read it twice already😭✨

Hi, my sweetie ❤️‍🔥 Thanks for messaging me 🙏🏻❤️‍🔥

I really hope they fix it too, but it seems like my account has been in this state for over a month now 😭

I’m writing to you, but to be honest, this process is moving so slowly! My inspiration has been so fickle lately!

But by the time my page is restored, I’ll definitely have something written for you!

Right now I’m writing two new stories and I really hope you’ll like both of them 🥺🙏🏻❤️‍🔥

I really wanted to publish something for you, but I’m worried that people didn’t see it in tags and this situation with the page is so upsetting to me 💔

Oh my GOSH, did you really read TTG twice? Thank you 🥺❤️‍🔥 That’s the best thing an author can hear—when their stories are read multiple times 😘❤️‍🔥 THANK YOU SO MUCH for your love and support; I really appreciate it!!

[oscarpiastrihq]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, OSCAR ❤️‍🔥

HE IS LOVE OF MY LIFE ❤️‍🔥 He my absolute number one, the best driver, and the most wonderful person in the whole world.

I’ll be honest: my love for Formula 1 exists solely because of Oscar. He swept into my heart so quickly—much faster than the top speed he’d ever reached on the track! 🏎️💨

No other driver on this planet will ever take his place in my heart. I promise to always be by his side, to support he before every race, and to cheer for he until the very end of my life. I love him with all my heart and soul. 🥰🏁

[piaosc81]

Hey dear fairy Dary

I miss you and your writing. I hope you're doing well and doing your little fairy things. 🩷

— your beloved fairy too 🧚

Ohhh, my favorite, beloved fairy 🧚❤️‍🔥

I missed you so much 😭❤️‍🔥

Something happened to my page and it’s been a while 😭 I really want to post a new story very soon, but I’m afraid no one will see it except those who follow me 😭

I’m doing fine! But life is getting to me so much, I want to quit my job 😅

I miss you, come to me, my beloved fairy 🧚❤️‍🔥

[piaosc81]

omg i miss u queen, i hope ur account gets fixed soon!! sending u love!!

Hi, my dear ❤️‍🔥 I really hope it can be restored 😭 I'm so sorry—I noticed not long ago that my posts have also disappeared from the tags, even though they were in the "Most Popular" section 😭 I just want to cry 😭

I’m also working on the first chapter of “The Traitor in Papaya Color” for you. I think I’ll be able to finish the first chapter soon! Actually, I have a lot of new works, but I got upset because of what happened to my page, so I haven’t posted anything. Because it seems like even if I publish something, it won’t show up in the tags 😭

I don’t understand why this happened 😭

I miss you too, my beloved 😭❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 I hope you’re doing well 🙏🏻

[piaosc81]

I don't know what happened to my app, but I can't post comments, and my private messages have disappeared—I can't see them either! So if anyone wants to message me, please send me a message on Ask 🥺

I wrote to tech support, but I have no idea how long I'll have to wait for their reply 😭

[piaosc81]

It doesn't make sense though but you're right, it's your story 👍 Just next time when someone tell them their view about what you wrote, you must be open with it. You wrote publicly, criticism is always there.

I’m open to criticism, which is why I posted the anonymous comment and explained why the ending turned out the way it did. If it upset anyone, it’s because of their own biases and how they interpreted what I wrote.

I spoke without any insults or accusations—just explanations. I’m open to communication and discussing my works. I write them based on my personal experience and imagination, so if someone sees “red flags” or some kind of injustice in my texts, that’s just who I am. If I’m the “wrong person” for someone, that’s their right to think so.