summary: Lando hates when you are upset but loves how you look when you cry
-> CRY FOR ME | Lando Norris x reader
summary: Lando secures yet another win but craves something more—something a trophy cannot provide. Maybe you can, but will you?
BACKYARD BARBECUE | Lando Norris x reader
summary: Lano is your brother's favorite person for certain reasons: he joins in on his adventures and comes over with strawberry-flavored gummy bears. And not only is Lano fond of him, he also adores his big sister
RUINED AND SCARRED | Lando Norris x reader
summary: It was forbidden and excruciatingly tempting at once. You didn't belong into his world of sin - not until your skin bore the imprints of his lips
WHERE IS MY SPANISH ROMANCE? | Lando Norris x fem!reader | smau
COMING SOON | Lando Norris x fem!reader | smau
OSCAR PIASTRI | OP81
VENGEANCE | Oscar Piastri x reader
summary: You swore to avenge your father, no matter the cost. Along the way, someone began leaving clues—each marked with the same initials: OP. You don’t know who they are, only that they’re leading you closer to the one who pulled the trigger
A SECRET | Red bull!Oscar x fem!reader | smau
-> A SECRET (2)
UNEXPECTED | Oscar Piastri x fem!reader | smau
summary: you and Oscar slowly reveal your two-year relationship and the internet loses its mind over it
BON VOYAGE | Oscar Piastri x fem!reader | smau
summary: You and Oscar have convinced the internet that you two are just friends, giving subtle hints to those who are certain its straight up bullshit—but then your lie cracks and spills out into the world
DOPPELGÄNGER PRIVILEGES | smau
summary: Your response to Oscar's alleged signing with Alpine in 2022 wasn't just a snide comment — it was a prediction
-> WIFEY PRIVILEGES | smau
summary: The 2026 season was disastrous, and your engagement to the Aussie prince seemed to be the only pleasant thing that happened that year
Will the 2027 season be the same? 👀
TANGLED CONSTELLATIONS | childhood friends
summary: You were Hattie’s best friend who had been in love with her older brother since you were nine. He always treated you like a princess, which gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance of him liking you back
GRAND PRIZE | smau
summary: One Zneimer found her herself in engineering, the other had nothing but a hopeless dream of becoming a star
The question is—which one will win the grand prize?
synopsis: y/n is a popular influencer who was invited on a brand trip to the miami gp. there, a particular driver catches her eye and she takes to her private account to fangirl a little, where he can't see... right?
pairing: oscar piastri x influencer!y/n
genre: crack & fluff - smau
fc: random pinterest baddies
note: hii first post! was lowkey fighting for my life formatting all of this and it came out super long but i hope you enjoy!! <3
INSTAGRAM
yn.ln
liked by f1 and 830,724 others
yn.ln i love u miami. thank u sm for having me 😚
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user1 you are gorgeous!
f1 Thanks for joining us! ❤️ | liked by yn.ln
user2 queen of the paddock i guess 😛
user3 literally wish i was you omg
user4 yn and lando in the same place????? my worlds are colliding
-> user5 ikr i was gagged 😭😭😭
-> user6 brb reading yn x f1 driver fanfics lol
-> user5 @/user6 real af drop the links
user6 <33
ynupdates
liked by user1 and 143,857 others
ynupdates Y/n spotted at the Miami GP! She posted, confirming she had been gifted the trip by Formula 1.
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user7 ahh this is such a crazy crossover
-> user2 i couldn't believe my eyes bro
-> user5 i hope she got to meet some of the drivers 🤭
-> user2 @/user5 yearning to see their interactions or whatever
user3 this is the content we deserve
user8 they just invite her to anything these days what
-> user1 someone's mad she got the invite and they didn't
user9 drop the hair routine lowkey 🙏
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
ynupdates
liked by user2 and 342,826 others
ynupdates Y/n has created a new, private twitter account, which was made public briefly yesterday. We wonder what she's been posting 👀.
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user1 i just missed it 😭😭😭 i wanna see what shes been posting
-> user3 ikk im so annoyed
user2 i saw someone on tiktok saying she was talking about an f1 driver
-> user3 omg no i have to know???
-> user5 wait i saw that too, i wonder which one tho 🫠
-> user6 you are actually feeding my delusions rn omg @/ynupdates pls confirm
-> ynupdates @/user6 While our account has not been accepted by Y/n yet, we do accept submissions from fans so if anyone is on the account, they can send us screenshots.
user4 so all of us are just sitting in her requests fr
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri Another race down. Thank you everyone! 🧡
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user1 Amazing as always
user3 smashing it!!!
user4 the racing gods blessed you fr this time 🥹
-> user3 finallyyy he deserves it
yn.ln congrats!! 😚 | liked by oscarpiastri
-> user6 ariana what are you doing here????
-> user7 HUH
-> user5 giggling to myself because im on her priv so this makes perfect sense
-> user2 this NEEDS to happen.
-> user3 oscar likeddddd 🤭🤭
ynupdates
liked by user1 and 472,973 others
ynupdates It seems Y/n has a little crush on Formula 1 driver Oscar Piastri 👀. She has made numerous tweets about him on her private account and even commented on his recent post! (Thank you to those who sent in screenshots).
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user3 THIS IS WHAT I HAVE BEEN MISSING???
user6 nooo whoever sent these is lowkey a snitch
-> user2 girl please y/n made that comment publicly 😐
user1 oscar liked her comment too ... new ship?? 🤭
-> user2 this is actually my dream couple i can't even lie
user6 i don't know if i want to be him or be with him
yn.ln .... 😀
-> user4 GIRL 💀💀💀
-> user5 i love u but u are literally a public figure 😭 it was going to be exposed eventually
-> user2 brb making edits of you and oscar...
-> ynupdates Sorry! I promise we love you!!!
user6 do not let any f1 fanpages hear this im scared
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
yn.ln
liked by oscarpiastri and 782,933 others
yn.ln you ain't got no mrs, but you got a sports car.
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user3 THE CAPTION pls
-> user4 in the words of ms tate mcrae herself 😛
-> user1 her acting so nonchalant on the main is sending me lmfao
oscarpiastri I do have a sports car actually | liked by yn.ln
-> user8 WJEBJDUXKDWHSHDJS
-> user5 oh my god. im floored
-> user3 HELPPO WTFFF
-> user7 this is what the people wanna see!!!!!!! holy shit
quick question: do you guys read my stories on your phones or computers?
why am I asking, well the high-school sweethearts smau is packed with long pictures that are basically unreadable on phones, so I'd like to know if I need to adjust the whole thing or not
(I'm silently hoping it won't be needed bc that would post-pone it for a few days 🥲)
pairing: oscar piastri x social media manager!reader
theme: fluff (extreme maybe)
warning: none!
a/n: (Had to take a quick break from writing for my series) One of my favorite TikTok creators makes these short romcom-style videos that I’m honestly way too obsessed with… so naturally, as someone who’s a total sucker for romcoms, I had to make my own version inspired by it 🫶 might make one, might make ten we'll see (This TikTok: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS9DuKSMm/)
Just Oscar and his social media manager… pretending they’re not totally in love with each other, because they’re not. They swear. Absolutely not. Not even a little bit. 🤏🏻
“So, would you rather be hit by a speeding Formula One car or a speeding monster truck?” she asked, twirling a lollipop that was barely hanging onto the stick. Oscar looked up from his race stats, giving her a look of pure disbelief. “If you want me gone, you could just say so,” he replied. He walked over to where she was sprawled across the sofa in his driver’s room, nudging her legs aside so she’d sit up and make room for him. He sat down beside her, but she didn’t let it go. “Come on, Osc. Just think about it!”
“Whichever one you’re not driving,” Oscar deadpanned. “I like my odds of surviving better that way.” She let out a bright laugh and slapped his arm. “Okay, rude!”
“You asked!” he laughed back. For a second, they just sat there, the quiet of the room settling between them until she suddenly lunged forward and snatched the iPad right out of his hands. "I wasn’t done with those!” Oscar protested. He reached out to grab it back, his hand instinctively catching her arm to steady himself as she stretched further away, holding the device out of reach.
“I have to show you the posting calendar,” she insisted, ignoring his reach. “You take way too long staring at all these numbers and graphs.”
“Those numbers and graphs are literally how I do my job!” Oscar joked, shaking his head. “Why did they even hire you if you hate data so much?” She snickered, leaning back against the cushion. “Well, Mr. Piastri, I was hired to be your social media manager, not your data analyst. As long as the McLaren feed and your Instagram look good, I’ve done what I’m paid for.”
“Whatever. I still can’t believe they hired a kid for the job,” Oscar teased. She shot him a look of feigned offense, though her eyes were sparkling. “We are literally the same age!”
“Yeah, but I have years of experience,” he retorted. “Well then, lucky me. I guess I’m just naturally talented.” She bats her lashes playfully. Oscar rolled his eyes. “You are so full of yourself. Honestly, they should have made you Lando’s instead.”
“Fine, if that’s what you want...” She started to stand up as if to walk out, but Oscar quickly grabbed her by the waist again, pulling her back down onto the couch. They both dissolved into lung-aching laughter before Oscar let out a quiet breath. “I’m kidding. You’re mine,” he said, the words hanging in the air for just a moment before he looked away.
“Okay, okay, enough playing around,” she said, clearing her throat. “You have a sponsor dinner tomorrow night. You’ll need to be photographed with the partners and some models for the upcoming campaign.” Oscar let out a loud, fake yawn. “Be serious!” she laughed, giving him a nudge. Oscar groaned, sinking into the sofa. “I am being serious! I just hate these formal things.”
“I know,” she said, her voice softening just a little. “I promise, I’ll make it quick so you can actually enjoy your night. I've coordinated with the PR team, and they said it was okay for me to take the photos myself so I could plot it into Meta immediately for posting.” Oscar looked at her, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Ah, so that’s why they hired you. Efficient girl!”
She met his gaze with a confident grin. “You know it,” she said, tapping the iPad screen with a flourish. "Do you know what the stylist wants me to wear? I assume you're also in the loop with that stuff." He asks. "Not really, but she's become a friend, so I do know. She's already picked it out, something fancy that includes a clip-on, so you don’t hurt yourself trying to tie a Windsor knot."
"A clip-on? I’m a professional athlete, not a toddler going to a Sunday school recital," Oscar muttered, though he didn't pull away. He reached over, absentmindedly twirling the ends of her hair. "Also, if I have to pretend to laugh at another boring old man joke, I’m going to need someone to stage an emergency evacuation. You can pretend there’s a fire, or a very urgent crisis involving a trending dance for another brand that I refuse to do."
"I’m not committing arson for you, Oscar." She says, standing up, smoothing out her clothes, and brushing out her hair with her fingers.
"But you’d consider the fake crisis?" Oscar looks at her; the boyish smile he had was captivating, but she blinks the thought of it away. "Only if you promise to stop calling me a kid in front of the pit crew," she retorted. Oscar let out a soft huff of a laugh, his eyes dropping to the iPad for a second before drifting back to her.
"Hey," he said, his voice dropping the playful edge for a split second. "You’re actually going to be close by, right? Not just across the room with the other camera crews?" She blinked, feeling a weird, tiny flip in her chest that she immediately blamed on too much caffeine. "Yeah. I’ll be right there. Why? Worried you’ll forget how to smile without me prompting you?"
Oscar crossed his arms, looking back at his racing stats with a sudden, intense focus. "No. I just need someone to tell me if I have spinach in my teeth. Y'know, professional reasons."
"Right, I'll bring the floss!" she says, saluting with two fingers, before heading for the door. "I'll leave you to it. Try not to miss me too much in the next ten minutes."
"In your dreams," Oscar called out, but as the door clicked shut, he wasn't looking at the charts or the graphs anymore. He was looking at the empty spot on the sofa where she’d just been sitting, a small, uncharacteristic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Outside, she leaned against the cool metal of the hallway wall and tried to breathe away the blush that was warming up her face.
The night arrived much faster than she wanted. She must have checked the mirror twenty times, obsessing over whether her dress sat right or if she looked professional enough. She tried to tell herself it didn't matter; she was there to be behind the lens, not in front of it, but the nerves wouldn't settle. The distinct honk of a car horn echoed outside, snapping her out of her head. Grabbing her clutch, the tablet, and her camera, she hurried out the door. Oscar was leaning against his car, fumbling with the cufflinks at his wrist. She noticed the silk tie slung uselessly over his shoulder and couldn't help but shake her head, a laugh bubbling up.
"I told you to say yes to the clip-ons," she called out as she reached him.
He looked up. She was so close, so he tried his hardest to push down the smile that tried to make its way on his face upon seeing how good she looked. "No way. Who’s going to take me seriously? Besides, I actually like this color."
He handed the tie to her. As she took it, she realized it was a soft shade that perfectly complemented the dress she was wearing. The realization made her heart skip a beat, thudding a little too hard, a little too loud, but she brushed the feeling aside, blaming it on anything else.
She stepped closer, wrapping the silk around his neck and tying the knot with the practiced precision she’d developed over two years of working with him. "May I remind you," she murmured, eyes focused on his collar, "that I am not your personal assistant."
"True," Oscar replied, looking down at her. "But Zak would kill me if I asked for a personal assistant, so you’ll just have to do." She laughed, giving his chest a playful swat as she finished the knot. He stepped forward, moving with that effortless athlete's grace to open the passenger door for her. He gestured for her to get in, but as she sat down, he leaned against the doorframe.
"I knew you were going to wear that dress," he said simply. She looked up at him, surprised. "How?"
"I've known you for two years, you love that dress," he shrugged. "And besides, you basically live in sweatpants. This is the only other nice thing you own, right?" She let out a loud cackle, reaching out to mock-shove him. "Evil! I have plenty of nice clothes, for your information."
"Yeah, well," Oscar said, his voice dropping an octave as he looked at her, unable to look away this time. "Don't wear them. This one is my favorite."
Before she could process the weight of that comment, he shut the door. As he walked around to the driver's side, she leaned her head back against the seat, wondering exactly how she was supposed to survive the rest of the night.
They arrived at the venue, and the second the car stopped, the professional wall went right back up. She gave Oscar a quick wave and headed toward the side entrance used by the staff and media crews. Oscar watched her go, lingering for a while, before turning toward the main entrance where the flashbulbs were already popping.
Just smile and wave, Oscar. Smile and wave, he coached himself, flashing a grin at the rows of cameras as he followed a few steps behind the other drivers, and as soon as he stepped inside the lavish ballroom, his focus shifted. He wasn't looking for sponsors or team principals; he was scanning the room for her.
Like a moth to a flame, his eyes darted toward the dessert table.
There she was, happily downing what looked like her third mini-cup of tiramisu. A genuine smile tugged at his lips until he noticed Alex Albon standing right next to her. They were locked in conversation, and she was laughing with the kind of relaxed, genuine energy Oscar usually only saw when they were alone in his presence. Something bubbled in him. Maybe it was acid reflux, or maybe it was something else entirely, but he didn't wait to find out. He crossed the room in record time. Before he even realized he was doing it, his hand settled firmly on her waist, causing her to jump slightly.
"There you are, you sugar monster," Oscar teased, his voice sounding a little more possessive than he intended. She nudged him with her elbow, her cheeks slightly flushed. "Shut up," she mumbled, reaching for another cup anyway.
Alex looked between the two of them, his eyes dropping to where Oscar’s hand was still resting on her waist. A knowing, amused expression crossed Alex’s face as he stifled a chuckle. "Uh, excuse me," Alex said, gesturing vaguely toward the other side of the room. "I need to go tell Carlos how good these fruit cups are. I'll see you around?"
She waved Alex off with a smile. "See ya, Alex!" Once he was gone, she turned her attention back to Oscar. "Okay, how about we go ahead and get those photos? Then you can go back to doing... whatever it is Oscar Piastri does at parties like this." Oscar let out a long, dramatic sigh, but he didn't move his hand from her side immediately. "Fine. Let's just get it over with."
The photo session went by in a blur of flashbulbs and forced poses. She worked with a quiet, knowing precision, checking the angles on her phone and filing them into the content folder before Oscar could even complain. "All done," she said, giving him a small, professional nod. "You're free. Go be a star, do whatever it is you do. I’m going to go hide by the staff table and see if they have more of those tiramisu cups."
Oscar watched her walk away, a strange heaviness settling in his chest. He should be happy; he was done with the work part of the night, all because of her. With a little bit of hesitation, he headed over to the drivers' table, but his mind stayed behind at the small, lonely table in the corner.
They were friends, after all. It was only natural to want to sit with your friend, right?
As the night stretched on, the room grew louder and the air thicker with the scent of expensive perfume and talking about...well, he didn't know. Oscar was trapped in a conversation with a group of drivers, nodding at the right times, but his eyes were constantly drifting.
In his peripheral vision, he saw her. To anyone else, she looked fine, smiling politely at a passing waiter, but Oscar noticed the way she leaned slightly more weight on her left foot and the way her blinks were lasting just a fraction of a second longer than they should. She was exhausted. Without a second thought, Oscar excused himself mid-sentence and started weaving through the crowd toward her.
At the main table, Lando, Alex, and George watched him go, their heads tilting in perfect synchronization. "Seriously, when is he just going to admit it?" Lando asked, taking a slow sip of his wine.
"I was talking to her earlier, about the sponsorship posts. I knew my social media manager was behind on those, so I thought I'd consult," Alex added, a smirk playing on his lips. "But the second he saw us, his hand was on her waist. He’s getting bold, man." George chuckled, shaking his head.
"To be fair, they’re both just as stubborn as each other. I know she likes him just as much. She’s never without him. Even outside of work. I kid you not, we were talking about types of laundry detergent the other day, and somehow she shifted the topic to Oscar."
"Idiots," Lando muttered under his breath. "Absolute idiots." They watched as Oscar reached her side. Without a word, he just took her camera bag from her shoulder and tilted his head toward the exit. She looked up at him, a tired but grateful smile breaking through her fatigue.
As they walked out of the venue, they weren't touching. There was no hand-holding or dramatic flair, but as they moved through the glass doors and into the cool night air, they walked so close that their sleeves brushed with every step, an undeniable pull that everyone in the room could see, except for the two of them.
The drive back was just as chaotic as their usual banter, a whirlwind of jokes and laughter. Oscar had the top down on his car, letting the cool Monaco breeze swirl around them as the stars twinkled overhead. "Did you catch a whiff of that one CEO's perfume?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. "I almost gagged. It smelled like cigarette butts."
Oscar burst out laughing. "Cigarette butts? That’s specific."
"Yeah! Burnt and bad for your health," she insisted.
"Seriously though," she added, fanning her face as if she could still smell it. "If we’re going to be hanging around people that fancy, we need to up our game."
Oscar glanced at her with a smirk. "What do you suggest? We already dress the part. Well, mostly."
"I think we should stick to the French for the rest of the night," she suggested, the idea lighting up her face. "Since I'm basically your tutor at this point."
Oscar laughed, shifting gears as they climbed the hill. "My tutor? I’m the one who corrected your Bonjour yesterday. You sounded like a confused tourist."
"I was tired! Brain fog is real," she shot back. "But honestly, the nightly drills are working. We’re getting the dramatic flair down. It’s much more fun than just saying goodnight in English like regular friends."
"Well, regular friends don't quiz each other on French verbs at 2:00 AM," Oscar muttered, but the look on his face said he wouldn't have it any other way.
"Exactly," she smiled. "Now, speaking of being a 'regular' friend, about that house music..." Oscar groans loudly.
"How about we use something that isn't house music for your next post?" she suggested, looking over at him. She had pulled her hair up into a messy ponytail to keep it out of her face, and Oscar secretly thought it was his favorite look on her, though he’d never admit it.
"No way," he countered. "House music is my brand! You're the social media expert; aren't you supposed to know that?"
She looked at him, genuinely impressed by his defense. "I do! But I also know when a rebrand is needed. You can't keep posting these stunning travel photos and shots of your face with music that sounds like a basement club in Ibiza."
Oscar rolled his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. "I’ll think about it."
"Fine, you’re the boss!" she snickered.
When they finally reached her front porch, the roar of the engine died down into a comfortable silence. They both got out, and Oscar jogged over to her side, leaning against the car door she had just stepped through. "Thanks for tonight," he said, his voice a bit softer.
"Just doing my job!" she replied, echoing their earlier joke. "I’m serious. I couldn’t have survived that without you," Oscar said, his gaze lingering on her.
"Then don't let me go, okay?" she teased with a playful smile. "Never in my wildest dreams," Oscar replied.
The air felt a little colder, but the space between them felt warm. Everything they weren't saying was hovering right there in the air, unravelling silently without a single word of confession. "Alright, I'll see you tomorrow," she said, finally breaking the moment. "We have that shoot for Grill'd, and we need to plan your next few posts," she says, taking a few steps forward before looking back and adding, "Oh, and don't forget to do your Duolingo!"
"Whatever, see you tomorrow," he agreed, waving her off as if he didn't care about what she said, but all he could think about was her voice.
"Au revoir!" she called back, hiking up the hem of her gown so she wouldn't trip as she ran toward her door. Oscar watched her, leaning against the hood of his car with his arms crossed. Just before she disappeared inside, she turned back and shouted, "Oscar, say it!"
He laughed, standing up straight and tossing a hand into the air. "Adieu!" he shouted back with a wink. She beamed at him before slipping inside. Oscar stayed there for a moment, the silence of the night feeling a lot louder than it had a minute ago.
Totally normal. Just two friends and colleagues ending a professional work night. No big deal, right?
🫵🏻 special tags because I believe you guys would enjoy this as much as I did while writing! @inseongsbitch @cosmonauticaa @hannahbananababybanana @obxstiles @yoonkiscutie @freddiefromthefandoms @pancakes4nina
Summary- Oscar Piastri needed a break from the loud world of Formula One. He thought he was going to the small beach town for peace, but then he met her. The wild and free baker that stole every moment of his summer, moments he never wanted back.
Notes- Pure fluff for the summer break! I have a soft spot for small town romances so I love this one.
WC-5k
The brick walkway stretched wide, its warm path lined with sporadically potted flowers that looked like they belonged in a movie about love. Not because they were perfect, but because they were imperfect in a way that made the pent up stress lodged deep in Oscar Piastri’s lungs to release ever so slightly.
He wasn't running, at least that's what he told himself. What he told his family when he said he wasn't going back to Australia for the summer break. Not because he didn't love them, or miss them desperately.
The driver needed silence, space away from the wildly buzzing world of Formula One, from the violent clash of media and microphones.
The season was going well. On paper Oscar had everything he wanted, he was leading the championship with wins to his name. It was everything he wanted, everything he grew up dreaming about.
Only now he knew what the posters on the wall of his childhood bedroom never told him, that the life of an F1 driver was exhausting. Not in a normal tired way, but in a way that sucked all the life from your bones. Oscar loved his job, but it was also the thing that drained him the most.
So here he was. A charming coastal town so small it barely gained enough attention to be added to most maps. The kind of place where everyone knew everyone and where time stood still.
The gentle rush of waves carrying a salty beachside scent reached Oscar's senses as he journeyed down the small main street. Its expanse only giving way to a few restaurants, a coffee shop, and a bakery. The driver’s footsteps slowed as he neared the ladder.
The ever-present salty scent gave way to something much sweeter. Something that reminded him of home, of calm days where his mother would make his favorite cake just because.
It reminded the driver of simpler times.
In a sporadic change of course, he entered the bakery. The sweet aroma only gaining weight as he crossed the threshold, the scent greeting him like a warm hug.
The space was bright, with mix-matched tables lining the smooth walls of the small bakery and a glass case stuffed with every baked good the boy could ever dream of.
It was peaceful, quiet in a way that knew it didn't need to demand attention. It just was.
“Welcome in, what can I do for you today?” A small but chipper voice greeted from behind the counter. Its owner drew Oscar’s attention, mostly because of the fact that the girl looked like she stepped out of a small town movie. At least one that started a chaotic baker.
Her hair was disheveled, tied up out of her face but her flyaways were sticking up in every direction, rendering the updo pointless. Oscar nearly laughed as she let out a huff in an attempt to blow a stray hair away from her eyes.
Next was her apron, and thank god for that. Oscar imagined without it the baker before him would be covered head to toe in whatever hot pink icing she’d gone to war with. Then there was her smile, bright and careless as if she had never known a day of stress. A smile Oscar envied.
The chaotic girl seemed to read his stare, taking a moment to gloss over her own appearance, letting out a shy laugh.
“Sorry for-uh-this.” She laughed, gesturing to herself in all her hot pink icing glory. “This is what a seven year olds birthday cake gone wrong looks like.”
“Does that happen often?” Oscar was surprised by his own question, usually he wouldn't bother with small talk. So what was different about this interaction?
“Uh-yeah” She nodded mindlessly. “It’s okay you’re new around here.”
“How do you know I’m new?” Oscar asked.
“It’s pretty obvious, plus I know everyone here but I don't know you.” She said simply and Oscar realized it was true.
The messy girl had no clue who he was. She didn't care about his lap times, or media presence, or if he said the wrong thing and pissed off his teammates' fans. She just saw him, saw another human. An idea that was refreshing like a cool salty wave washing over his body.
Noting his momentary silence the girl jumped to fill it once more. “I can pick out some of my favorites for you, if you’d like.”
“Yeah. That would be great.” Oscar sighed into the sweet air, watching as she moved to gather a large pasty, one he recognized. A cinnamon roll.
Less than a moment later the bell above the bakery rang once more. Only this time it signaled the driver’s exit. Sending him back onto the small main street, only this time with a box of baked goods and a parting smile for the messy girl who lit up his day.
___
She awoke before the sun rose on the pure blue ocean.
The life of a baker was a life of early mornings, but she grew to treasure sunrises. The morning rush had come and gone, bringing all her local favorites through the door for their daily treats. Afternoons were usually slower, so she opted to spend them in the back kitchen prepping the next day's batches.
The all too familiar ring of the front bell dragged the baker away from her heavy task of rolling cinnamon rolls.
“How can I help you?” The words rolled from her mouth on instinct before she even looked up to see who her customer was. Upon doing so she paused. It wasn't uncommon for the occasional tourist to pop though especially in the summer months. They usually stopped by her shop once for a treat and were on their way.
She assumed the brunette she helped yesterday fell into that category, but as she looked at his messy hair and lazy smile standing at her counter. The girl realized she was wrong.
“Your back?” Her words came out as a question.
“Am I not supposed to be?” The boy asked with an amused smile.
“No-uh-your welcome any time-just usually tourists don't stick around.”
“Ah-” the brunette stepped forward, closer to her. “I’m in town for a little while, it's-uh, more of an escape than a vacation.”
His words and their vague description piqued her interest. After all she did love a man of mystery. “Ahh how mysterious of you. Are you running from the cops? Because if you are, I'm afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave, I can't serve criminals.”
The boy laughed, the action causing his head to tilt downwards. Sharp jawline on full display.
“I have a clean record, I promise, no crimes here. Just needed a break, I’m staying in a small house on the beach. But I could use a cinnamon roll, if you decide you can serve me.” His last words were laced with a playful taunt. One that sparked butterflies in the pit of her stomach. Their flutters increasing with every moment spent in his presence.
“I guess that can be arranged, if you promise you’re not a criminal.” She joked back.
“Promise.”
“Here you go-” She paused hoping he would pick up on her cue. That he would fill the small silence with his name.
“Oscar” he complied.
“Here you go Oscar, best cinnamon roll in town.”
“Thanks, hey would you happen to know where someone can get a good dinner around here. Most of the restaurants close early and I was just wondering-”
“There’s one,” she remarked, sliding the box across the counter. “By the dock, about ten minutes from here, great seafood.” She added, before taking a breath. Attempting to prepare, honestly she didn't know why she was bothering. Asking out tourists and visitors never ended well. Yet that didn't stop the words from falling from her lips.
“I could take you if you like?” She asked. God that was stupid. Could you be any less casual? She kicked herself, watching Oscar’s slightly shocked face as he shifted on his feet.
He was about to reject her, she was sure of it.
Just when she was about to backtrack, his words beat her to it. “Sure, I’d like that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’ve been on my own for the past few days. Company would be nice.”
___
It was silly to obsess over an offhand dinner with the kind smiling girl from the small town bakery. But that didn't explain why Oscar’s palms sweat as he anticipated her arrival at the charming dockside restaurant. Or why he spent twenty minutes picking out his outfit when he only brought two button up shirts.
Perhaps there was no explanation, perhaps it was just her.
“Hey, sorry I’m late. I had a few late cake deliveries.” She bounced up to him like a pleasant surprise on a warm summer's night. She smelled like vanilla, not in an artificial perfume way but in a warm, soothing scent that smelled like home. Like getting lost in comfort and never wanting to return.
“Did this one end in a hot pink icing explosion?” Oscar asked playfully as he opened the door for the girl.
“Not this time.”
He smiled fondly at the girl’s response.
As they enjoyed dinner Oscar realized that he didn't need to escape. He just needed to be with someone who saw him. Someone who didn't know about the car, the team, the media. Someone who just saw Oscar, and asked no further questions.
The dinner stretched on, they relocated to the small bar in town. A stuffy place that was decorated with bright bottles and lively jazz music. But Oscar didn't care about the setting, he only cared about his company. About the way she told stories and laughed with her whole chest at his stupid jokes. He admired the glow in her eyes as she talked about next week's extensive menu at the bakery.
Everything else fell away. For the first time in months, the driver didn't feel like one. He just felt like a human, like Oscar. Like a man who didn't need an explanation, because that's all he was.
___
It came like clockwork, just a minute after the clock struck noon. She expected it this time, had been hopeful that after a night of dinner and laughs, that he would visit her again.
Was it smart to have a crush on someone you just met? To place so much value on a fleeting human who would pack up and leave by summer's end?
No, no it wasn't. But thats the thing about romance, you don't get to choose when it sweeps you off your feet.
So she waited, hoping he would come. Had even pre-boxed a fresh warm cinnamon roll just for him.
An effort that paid off, because as the clock ticked, the door rang and there he was. Slightly more tanned than the day they met, but a lot less heavy. Like whatever he needed a break from wasn't even a thought in his mind anymore.
“Ah- you're expecting me now.” He teased upon seeing her perched by the counter, patiently awaiting his arrival.
“What can I say, I have great service. Here.” She presented him with the warm delight, boxed and ready to go.
“Thank you, are you busy? Would you want to sit.” He nervously gestured to one of the tables by the window, a smooth white set she bought at a thrift store.
The baker tried her best to seal the excitement bubbling deep within her bones, to not squeal like an excited puppy.
The bakery could wait, just for a moment. She had bigger priorities, the first being the handsome brunette that had quickly become her daylight, the bright of her days.
She settled for a smile, bouncing on her toes. “I’d love to.” She practically leaped across the counter. Barley noticing the boy grabbing two forks off the counter instead of one. She didn't register the gesture or what it truly meant until he popped the sweet box open on the table, positioning it perfectly in between them. Offering the second utensil to her like he was presenting a trophy.
“For you, unless you're sick of your own cinnamon rolls.” He winked.
“Oh, I could never get sick of these.” She giggled like an excited teenager. “But I don't want to encroach, it's yours.”
“Nonsense” he brushed off. “I want to share it with you.” His eyes rose to meet hers across the table. Warm sunlight shining through the glass window, hitting his dark brown eyes flawlessly. She could see soft glints of gold in his eyes. A warmth she'd give anything to drown in.
Accepting his offering with an unsteady hand, she tucked into their shared desert. “So, why are you really here? Most people don’t stick around here, at least not by themselves.”
Oscar leaned back, chair creaking a soft whisper as his weight shifted.
“I needed a break from everything. My world and its expectations. I have everything I’ve ever wanted, the job I worked so hard for but it's all just-” his words died out, as if he ran out of syllables to express his tired thoughts.
“Too much?” She finished for him, offering him a life raft in a deep churning sea, a soft tether to lead him home, somewhere safe.
“Yeah, exactly.” He breathed.
“It's okay, to get overwhelmed, feeling burnt out isn't something to be ashamed of.” In a brave move she reached forward, hand coming to encase his overtop the table. His skin was warm in an unexpected way. Different from the heat of the oven, or the feeling of the sun kissing her skin.
Oscar’s skin felt like he absorbed the heat of a thousand stars. Soaking up every molecule of their essence, just so he could give her warmth in the tiniest of touches.
He didn't shy away from her touch. Didn't flinch, he just raised his thumb above her hand. The pad of his finger running a gentle journey across the expanse of her hand in a mindless gesture.
“Thank you.” His words came out strong and sincere, yet soft around the edges. As if the cozy bakery protected them from the sharp sides of life. In the safety of the four walls it was just them, a cooling cinnamon roll and a shared understanding of being human.
___
Oscar sighed as the blue sky bled into pink and purple. An array of sunset colors painted before him like it belonged in a museum and not beachside on a random summer weekday.
His days in the small town were simple. They revolved around warm cups of coffee on the deck of his rental, morning beach walks, bakery visits that he told himself were for the cinnamon rolls but deep down knew they were for the girl who made them.
His evenings ended simply watching the sun set on the beach. A calm routine he'd come to cherish, the change in pace he so desperately craved.
“First my bakery, now my favorite sunset spot. I’m beginning to think you're stalking me.” A familiar light voice rang behind him before a warm body joined him on the sand. Not just any body, hers. Still smelling of honey and cinnamon like she’d walked out of the bakery and straight to the beach.
“Well, it looks like this town isn't big enough for the both of us.” Oscar laughed, turning his gaze to the even prettier sight that had joined him.
“One of us has to go.” She laughed, the sound a beautiful symphony lighting up the darkest parts of him. The evening wind blew wild hairs across her forehead, not in a way that looked messy. Just free, beautiful.
“You really want to get rid of me that fast.”
“Nah, I’ll keep you around.” She replied.
A soft silence settled between them. One that didn't demand to be filled, it just was.
Oscar allowed his mind to drift into the exploding sunset. His mind always pulled back to the wild baker beside him. He selfishly wanted her in his life, beyond just the summer. Oscar wanted more than just evenings and mid day bakery visits.
The driver longed for more moments where he didn't have to pretend, didn't have to be Oscar Piastri the Formula One driver and could just be Oscar. But he knew that wasn't possible, reality would catch up to him, he would have to leave at the end of the month, have to leave her.
Not to mention she didn't even know who he was and what the true weight of being someone to him meant.
He wouldn't drag her into his life, he didn't want to do that to her. Not when he knew he’d be bringing her into a life of criticism and chaos. Maybe it was selfish, it was definitely wrong, but he decided not to tell her. So he could have her just for the summer, just for these few weeks.
Then he would have to let her go.
___
What started as bakery visits evolved into dinners, sunset walks, and small town adventures over the past week. She didn't know why or how things changed so quickly. How a stranger became her closest confidant, but with Oscar things were simple. She could be in an empty sterile room and as long as she had the boy beside her she would never get bored.
Her afternoons were marked by his carefree smile and the small ding of the bakery bell. She’d begun to plan ahead, doing her prep work earlier so that she would have time to sit with him. A shared cinnamon roll at their favorite table became clockwork, a daily event that occurred without second thought.
The baker banished all thoughts of when he would leave, when they would be forced to part ways and he never told her when that day would come. It was a mutual understand, they belonged to the summer.
She fought the deep selfish desire to want more of him.
All those moments, all those shared conversations that were so easy she could turn her brain off around him, came to now. Nervously the baker shifted on her feet as she stood on the doorstep of the beachside condo. Oscar’s humble home for his time in the small town
It's just dinner, you’ve done that before. She told herself, shifting the wine bottle she brought from hand to hand.
But this was the equivalent of going over to a guy's house for dinner, that meant something right? It was an offhand invitation but she read it for what it was, another excuse for them to be in each other's presence. One she wouldn't complain about.
So there she was, smiling brightly as he opened the door. Greeting the boy with a warm hug as if they hadn't seen each other just hours earlier at the bakery.
“You cook?” She asked, taking in the spiced aroma of the coastal decorated kitchen.
“If pasta and store bought sauce counts as cooking, then yes.” Oscar laughed, reaching to pour them each a glass of wine with military precision.
The dinner went by softly as her nerves fell away, their sentiment unneeded. With him things just happened. He talked about his family, growing up in Australia, and his unlabeled job that took him across the world. The same job that burnt him out so bad he ended up here, with her.
“Is it weird that I wouldn't change how anything happened? With my job, with getting burnt out, tired, overwhelmed?” The question came long after she entered the beach rental. The soul intertwined pair now settled on the back deck, lounged in two cozy chairs. With nothing but darkness, crashing waves and each other for company.
“Why not?” She whispered from where she was curled up in her chair. Dressed in a warm hoodie Oscar loaned her to defend against the evening breeze. It smelled like him. Carried his scent of chocolate and something deeper. Something that smelled safe, like home.
He paused, face turning to meet hers. An action she could barely see through the blanket of darkness that covered them like a protective bubble.
“Because it led me here.” He said the words simply, like they didn't need anything to back them up, no preamble, no supportive arguments. “If none of that happened, I would have never met you.”
She had grown comfortable in the darkness with him, but in that moment she wished she had a flashlight. That she was able to light up all the contours of his face, so she could see him and every mole that graced his smooth skin.
“I’m glad I met you.” She said, sharp edges gone from her voice. With him she didn't need them.
Then it happened. Slowly, as if they had all the time in the world. As if the universe would protect them from any force that attempted to tear them apart.
Oscar reached over, arms leaning over his chair to reach hers. Hands clasped her sweatshirt covered hips and lifted. Not fast, not harsh. Just slow, gentle, as if he was transporting the most precious of goods.
She landed gently in his lap a moment later. Upon her soft landing she was greeted with him. Not just his warm hands steady on her back, or his light breath blowing against her neck. But his full essence, she was basking in his glow. Caught in a beam of light she never wanted to escape.
One of his hands moved. A slow journey starting at the small of her back and ending at her jaw. The pad of his thumb brushed her blush ridden cheek upon arrival. “Is this okay?” He whispered.
She nodded so fast the action nearly gave her whiplash. It was more than okay, it was perfect.
One moment they were there, gazing into each other's eyes, the next his lips were on hers. She closed her eyes, not wanting to know when the moment would end, when she would have to pull her lips away from the softness that covered her senses like silk.
The kiss wasn't rushed or marked by fast hands and tangled hair. It was intimate in all the ways words couldn't describe. It felt like fate, like every moment in her life led to this. To this summer with him, this kiss.
They separated slowly, bodies still intertwined. Her forehead dropped to rest in the crook of his neck.
“When do you go?” She mumbled, but her heart wanted to ask him to stay, to never leave her.
His breath shuttered underneath her. “Next week.” The words were slow as if he didn't want to believe them. She wished they weren't true but they were, because the truth was they always had an expiration date.
So she’d have to take the next best thing. Take him while she had him
“You’re mine till then?” Her voice was hushed in the charged darkness as she glanced up at the boy who had carved his name into her summer days.
“I think I’ll always be yours no matter what.”
___
The sign on the bakery door read closed, a twin to the other establishments that lined the small town street, but the lights were on inside and the scene was lively.
It was supposed to be a simple activity, something Oscar wouldn't be able to mess up, at least not with her there to supervise.
Oh how wrong he was.
Their task had been cinnamon rolls, in honor of their favorite shared treat. However somewhere between singing along to the blasting music, stolen kisses between rolling the delicious dough, and a cinnamon explosion, chaos had ensued. And Oscar wouldn't change it for the world.
He couldn't help but watch her glowing in her element. The driver memorized every line of her face. From the way her nose crinkled in concentration when she measured flour to the way her whole body shook with laughter as he attempted to roll one of the treats only to fail miserably.
He’d come to the town because he thought he needed a break, an escape. He was running from the pressure closing in on him, walls so tight they nearly crushed him.
Then he met her and she breathed light into doubt, loosened the pressure. She saved him. Oscar thought he was led to the small town to get away, but watching her dance under the bright kitchen lights, hair flowing in every direction, he saw the truth.
He’d been sent to find her.
___
Dawn flooded the soft bedroom. Shining its first light onto the rumpled bed and the two bodies interwoven beneath the cool sheets.
Her eyes blinked as the sun rose, small rays of light peeking through the curtains, saying hello to a new day. She groaned, turning her head further into the warm chest beneath, as if she could hide in his safety and never come up. The arm around her waist tightened, a small movement that felt almost instinctive. Just the boy adapting to her movement, the two mindlessly in sync.
Their final week passed freely, like wind rippling waves on the salty shore.
Their mornings were spent intertwined as if they were one body. She would go off to the bakery, counting down the minutes till Oscar would pop in, till that bell would ding and his smiling face would be hers once more.
The evenings were where they thrived. Summer nights spent with just the two of them. An endeavor marked by sunsets, evening walks, conversations that blurred the lines between deep and meaningless, dinners where she would laugh at his lack of cooking skills but kiss him senseless anyways.
Time passed with an understanding that he would leave and their lives would resume, separately. She blinked once more, eyes drifting to the suitcase on the floor, open and filled. All his belongings no longer spread out between the floor and closet. They were now tightly packed because today was the day, the one marred by a doomed X.
The end. The end of summer, the end of them.
He would leave, go back to his life before her, and she would let him.
___
The birds were quiet, a stark contrast to their usual joyful chirps. It was as if they too were in mourning and knew what was breaking right below them.
Oscar's bags were all neatly packed in the back of the sleek car that would take him to the airport, back to his life and all the chaos that went with it. And there standing in the middle of it all was her. An unexpected surprise, his bright plot twist.
It took every once of power, every bone in his body to not give in. To not take his bags out of the car and stay with her forever, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't give up on the team, on his dream.
So instead he kissed her one last time. Through tears and longing the boy told her everything he couldn't say with words.
They parted slowly, knowing their time had run out. The last grains of sand in their hourglass had dropped, leaving them with none to spare.
“I’ll never forget this. I’ll never forget you.” She whispered like a prayer as their foreheads met in the middle.
“I could never forget you. I never want to.” Came his reply and he meant every word, including the ones he said next. “I’ll come back, when things are easier. I’ll come back, you don't have to be here you don’t have to wait-”
“I will.” She cut him off. “For you I will.”
The door car door shut, a simple action that felt like closing a coffin.
One parting glance was all he allowed himself as the driver started the car and the boy rolled further from her, from the place that had become home.
The baker became a small dot as the car spread away, but she stayed there in that same spot. Till the car turned the bend and there was nothing left of her.
___
Summer shifted into fall, a change of seasons both physically and mentally. Life went on after the boy her summer belonged to left. Leaving no trace of contact behind, taking a piece of her heart with him.
Life went on, the ocean still sparkled clear as glass, the flowers lining main street still grew with bright colors, but things changed.
The bakery menu shifted into her fall selection with new flavors and spices. But she always kept the cinnamon rolls. She told herself it was because they were her favorite but she knew it was less about her favorites and more about his.
Her afternoons were slow. An adjustment that never settled without her favorite visitor. But over time the baker had fallen back into her routine of using the afternoons to prepare for the chaos of the next morning.
Her flour covered hands kneaded dough, a messy task she was knee deep in when the bell rang. Its sharp ding bouncing into the back of the bakery. She rushed to clean her hands in an attempt that ended up knocking an impossible amount of flour onto her apron, leaving her more of a mess than before.
Giving up on appearances she rushed to the front, only to screech to an abrupt stop.
The seasons had changed, it wasn't summer anymore, but she swore she was catapulted back in time. To that faithful day, the day she met him.
Only this time a copious amount of flour replaced the pink frosting that decorated her apron that day. Despite the differences, the figure standing in her bakery was the same. The same boy, the same Oscar. Her Oscar.
His hair was as brown and floppy as ever, she longed to leap over the counter and run her fingers through his locks for a blissful eternity. His eyes were soft, like being in this place soothed something deep in him.
The boy shifted on his feet, blinking once, twice. Then he smiled, the same as that first day, the day everything changed.
“You got a cinnamon roll in there for me?” He gestured to the case with a laugh. As if nothing changed, as if they were picking up right where they left off, because he returned to her. Just like he said he would.
wc/summary: lewis hamilton’s niece has started attending more races but she seems to have abandoned her dear uncle for her boyfriend
contains: fluff, ollie bearman x girlfriend!reader, ollie bearman x black!reader
💌: hope this is a cheer up from the way his race ended this morning 🥲
masterlist
✩ ✩ ✩
liked by olliebearman, lewishamilton, ferrari, and 589k others
ynhamilton china i am in you (note to self do not buy every single piece of food you see, you will get food poisoning)
tagged olliebearman
yourmom olliebearman stop buying her stuff
olliebearman im sorry!
ynhamilton don’t listen to her
yourmom drink water honey!!
ynhamilton i am!
gabibortoleto she is actively drinking a cherry redbull as we speak
ynhamilton STOP LYING ON MY NAME
isackhadjar très dramatique pour toi
ynhamilton not you talking 🥸
ferrari that lens is looking sharp! 🐎
olliebearman i told you to stop after the third restaurant
ynhamilton i think im dying
olliebearman you’re responding to instagram comments and dying?
ynhamilton pls help me
olliebearman omw!
user88 why is #he so down bad for yn
user77 mind you he’s been like this for years
user44 body is teaaa
user81 the track photos stop you’re amazing
alexandrasaintmleux ❤️❤️
lewishamilton i knew i should’ve kept an eye on you, beautiful pictures as always ❤️
ynhamilton grown woman btw
kimiantonelli grown woman that got food poisoning within four hours of getting off the plane
ynhamilton i see your futures and it involves block button 😍
liked by user3, ynhamiltonfanpage, fan87, and 497k others
f1insider ynhamilton attended the saudi arabian grand prix and was spotted in the haas garage 🫣
user88 😭😭
user2 i love that she’s in the paddock again
user4 why is she in HAAS WHATS AT HAAS
user255 is she a new wag?
user3 no
user65 not new at allll
user55 ok but she was hilarious for this
user788 girl can run quick damn
user34 yn and her side quests 😭
user7 not her visiting ollie then somehow being at the ferrari fan forum only 5 mins later
user11 her fits this weekend were so so good
liked by olliebearman, yourmom, ferrari, and 782k others
ynhamilton sightseeing with my fav in miami ;)
olliebearman wrong red garage tbh
lewishamilton 🤨
ynhamilton you’re in public calm down
lewishamilton why doesn’t he calm down as well ?
olliebearman i didn’t do anything
lewishamilton YET
ynhamilton i hate you both
user26 imagine it’s referencing the wink he did at her on the broadcast
user89 omggg
olliebearman i am free tmr btw
estebanocon no you are not you have media day
olliebearman whats a media day
olliebearman you look good in red and black btw 😁😁
ynhamilton thank you 💗💗
alexalbon you never visit williams anymore
ynhamilton yall don’t have good donuts anymore
ferrari the prancing horse loves having you back!
user33 the ollie and lewis interaction is giving bf and dad
user29 so im not the only one who sees it
user200 ollieyn my personal best friends
user82 she remembered her ferrari roots iktr
haasf1 can’t wait to see you back in our garage tomorrow!
ferrari she’ll be over here actually 😁
user98 oh????
user21 not haas and ferrari arguing over yn hello
user289 can’t believe you’re not lewis’ personal photographer anymore
ynhamilton he only pays in family dinners i fear
alexandrasaintmleux so glad to see you this weekend!
ynhamilton love youuu
ynhamilton has added to their story
story replies
1:
lewishamilton you cannot be posting this kind of thing on your main account
ynhamilton imagine being upset your niece is defending you
lewishamilton how is this defending me? do you not have a finsta?
ynhamilton i do nawt like that you know what that is
ynhamilton go bother that lady
2:
olliebearman do you have to spend every day off with a bunch of furballs?
ynhamilton ima bring one home one day and you better not call it a ‘furball’
olliebearman this is because your aunt got a dog huh?
ynhamilton that and without roscoe, the family feels so emptyyy
ynhamilton baby you would love a dog i know it
olliebearman you’re ridiculous 😭
ynhamilton score a win this season and i’ll even let you name her 😋
liked by ynhamilton, hassf1, kimiantonelli, and 729k others
olliebearman not the result we wanted but at least ynhamilton was there ;)
📸 ynhamilton
user92 you did so good!
user177 yn hamilton spotted in an ollie post let’s all act surprised
user27 no points :((
ynhamilton home race!! so proud ❤️
ynhamilton thank you for the photo creds
user288 you took the iconic pic of the spin??!
ynhamilton yess
olliebearman it’s iconic already??
user92 ollie 😭😭
haasf1 incredible performance this weekend!
user299 the pics they took of eachother perfectly capture their personalities
isackhadjar still good!
user28 are we not gonna talk about yn in the last slide??
user29 i spy a new car for them both
user28 i wonder which one of them owns it
user17 i heard he bought it for her
user04 bestie goals omg
user81 besties don’t buy eachother CARS lmao
charlesleclerc next year will be better ollie!
liked by totallynotaka, ollieynfans, user12, and 439k others
f1insider spotted! ollie bearman and yn hamilton were seen at a club in london very close this past sunday!
user73 don’t let lewis see this 🫣
user12 they been together awhile idk how yall didn’t pick up on it
user87 they’re not slick
user33 AT ALL
user377 they literally kissed last season before he drove for carlos why are we acting shocked
user78 no literally
user25 netflix is gonna eat this tf up
totallynotaka lmfaoooo
notyn what’s funny about this
totallynotaka welllll
user833 the besties since karting act has really gone out the window WOW
user44 wait don’t they enter the paddock together every weekend she’s not w lewis?
user3 i noticed that and was gagged
user675 is he always that touchy holyyy
user02 him holding her bag aweee
user93 her hair is perfect
user844 ugh another wag? boring
user20 nothing about the yn hamilton is just ‘wag’
user88 that kiss is so hot im sorry
liked by ynhamilton, gabibortoleto, f1, and 670k others
olliebearman always pushing 👊🏼
user33 thank you to the pr rep who approved this post
user25 sweet jesus
kimiantonelli same way you pushed my fries onto your plate last night?
olliebearman are you shaming me for having an appetite
kimiantonelli I PAID FOR THOSE FRIES
ynhamilton what happened to hello how are you my name is
olliebearman hello :)
ynhamilton youre not funny
user222 ynhamilton girl are you good
ynhamilton yes ofc why wouldn’t i be 😁😁😁
haasf1 always proud! ❤️🐻
user872 padel posts are back #finally
gabibortoleto hmmm wonder who this thirst trap is for
olliebearman 🥸
user92 congrats on p4 last weekend!!
notyn no actually what the hell
notyn why the fucm
user55 question is, is yn okay wherever she is
user83 answer is, i wouldn’t be
liked by olliebearman, lewishamilton, ferrari, and 899k others
ynhamilton we have a dog now, her name is winnie ✨
tagged olliebearman
olliebearman i thought we agreed on her name being bear?
ynhamilton be thankful i let you pick out her accessories
charlesleclerc bringing leo over asap
ynhamilton YESSS MY NEPHEW
user22 moved in together a year ago, got a dog together, and still won’t confirm they’re dating
user34 they’re so funny for that
haasf1 winnie is welcome anytime!
kimiantonelli i was starting up think you were spending a suspicious amount of time at the shelter
ynhamilton god forbid a girl loves helping animals
lewishamilton winnie is a perfect name, can’t wait to meet her
ynhamilton you will soon I PROMISE
ferrari leo and winnie paddock takeover?
user25 that would be so cuteee
user87 but does lewis approve of 🐻 ?
lewishamilton not that it matters but yes
ynhamilton you lyin out of your ass
user711 CUTE AS HELL
user88 best dog parents
likymhe so happy for you guys, i’ve got treats!!
user84 is this a hard launch?
user01 are you new here
alexandrasaintmleux cuties ❤️🥺
user89 “we” just put the fries in the bag
user63 last slide is so cute
liked by ynhamilton, lewishamilton, ferrari, and 589k others
olliebearman i have a crush on my gf
tagged ynhamilton
ynhamilton damn that’s crazy i have a crush on my bf
olliebearman twins
gabibortoleto this is so aesthetic, did yn choose the photos?
olliebearman why does no one believe i can be aesthetic on my own?
user91 same guy asking this is who posted the silverstone spin and two slides later was the most majestic pic of his gf
user88 drop the photobooth pics pls
charlesleclerc did you guys try any lec in italy
ynhamilton how many times do we have to tell you to stop promoting your icecream in ig comments
kimiantonelli i have a crush on getting a podium- oh wait
olliebearman OKAY
comments have been limited due to ollie being teased by his own paddock friends
summary: One Zneimer found herself in engineering, the other had nothing but a hopeless dream of becoming a star
The question is—which one will win the grand prize?
a/n: takes place in 2025 but i added some things from this year too, again — this is purely fictional, RUMORED infidelity, vague hints through songs 👀
🗓️ February 18, 2025 | O2 Arena, London
op81fanpage
liked by username, wagconfession and 292k others
op81fanpage the F1 75 Live event 🩵 feat. Y/N Zneimer
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username his stylist went overboard for this one and I ain't mad about it 🫦
username Oscar spotted in something other than a simple white tee? is the world ending? 😰
username miss Zneimer, can I have your entire wardrobe please? you never disappoint
username all three are serving cunt 💅
username a popstar at a motorsport event? the math isn't mathing 💀
username Landoscar with Lana Del Rey? ohoho I'm sat 🙂↕️
username you can tell she and Lando are just acquaintances 😭 his face screams stranger danger
username I guess Lily wasn't available again, so Oscar brought her sister to the event instead 😶
➥ username and the fact that it's been happening for a good while too smells fishy to me
🗓️ March 2025 | Before the Australian GP
f1gossipofficial
liked by username, wagconfession and 90k others
f1gossipofficial He did it.
The whole world was waiting to see if Oscar would acknowledge his girlfriend's older sister's new song, and that he did!
The chosen lyrics 'I don't wanna live, I don't wanna breathe / 'Less I feel you next to me' combined with the blue heart left fans questioning whether it had an underlying meaning or not 🤔
Meanwhile, ynhq has posted a little snippet of the tour preparations 👀
Your thoughts?
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username I see nothing wrong with it? Can't he support his future sister-in-law? It's probably automatic for him to repost her stuff and all
username he did it in the past, why can't he do it now? he uses her songs for his dumps every now and then 🤷
username the lyrics he chose are a bit suspicious bc Instagram set the chorus as the default part..
➥ username let's not overanalyze everything that man does please 🙏 it's just a song for crying out loud
➥ username not overanalyzing, just saying 💁
username they were classmates in high school!! Lily was a grade lower if i'm not mistaken, she and Oscar met through Y/N actually
➥ username uhh i'd be a little wary if i were in her shoes 😬 these dynamics never end well in movies
➥ username it's always the older brother but in Lily's case, it's her dearest sister who she looked up to when she was little 😕
🗓️ March 2025 | Tokyo, Japan
yn_zneimer
🎵La Lune • Billie Marten
liked by lilyzneimer, djotime and 372k others
yn_zneimer first stop: 🇯🇵🇯🇵🇯🇵
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username gradually singing songs from your unreleased album during the tour? girl, you're fucking brilliant 👏
➥ username each city is gonna hear one before the rest of the world 😭
lizzymcalpine i fear u ate miss girl 🤍 ♥︎ by author
username your songwriting never ceases to amaze me queen, 'Marigolds' is already my fav and we aren't even halfway through the tour 🌼
sabrinacarpenter sharing the stage with u has become my favorite activity ever ⭐ ♥︎ by author
username the guitar intro lulled me to sleep with how soothing it is 🤤
lilyzneimer 🌼⭐🤍🌼 ♥︎ by author
username you have the voice of an angel 👼
username based on the lyrics, it's either about her situationship or a man who we've yet to meet (hoping it's the latter 🙏)
➥ username "Now I see you less often / And we don't speak much either" suggests that it's indeed about her situationship 😶
itsbellakayyy pretty girl 🤍 ♥︎ by author
username I'm surprised you even went near that animal after last year's incident 😂
➥ username the fact that she stopped driving all together after hitting a deer and going off the road 😭 that girl is traumatized
username can't wait for @yn_updates to post the lyrics on Twitter 😙
➥ username same!! that girl is doing God's work and keeping us greedy fans satisfied
yn_updates @yn_updates
'Marigolds' — unreleased (1st song on the album, performed in 🇯🇵)
💬 1k 🔃 4k ❤️289k 🖇️
🗓️ April 2025
yn_hq @yn_hq
Due to the conflict in the Middle East region, we are devastated to announce that we won’t be performing in Bahrain and Saudi Arabia this time around ☹️ But do not fret, 'No Way to Live' is ready for you to give it a listen on Spotify instead!!
The tour will resume on May 1st in Miami. See you there, bubs! ⭐
💬 1,5k 🔃 4k ❤️ 289k 🖇️
username @username
I thank the gods who heard my prayers and gave us 'No Way to Live' regardless of the show being canceled 🙏
username @username
"Friends don't look at friends the way you look at me" I'M SORRY?! 😦 This just confirms that neither of the songs so far are about her situationship then bc that man was anything but a friend to her
username @username
"Are you happy? / I know you can't be" HOLY COW Y/N
username @username
"Lying next to her / Only to dream of me" am I hearing that right? Miss ma’am- invite me to dinner first golly 😮💨
username @username
ngl but the more I listen to it, the more I'm convinced she's pining after a man who's in a relationship 😶
➥ username @username
You just realized that now? Better later than never I guess 😂
🗓️ May 2025 | Miami, USA
worldwide_gossip @worldwide_gossip
This afternoon, fans swarmed the streets of Miami, trying to catch Y/N before her show tonight. But to everyone’s surprise, she didn’t arrive alone!!
Oscar Piastri, who has been in a relationship with her sister Lily since 2019, got out of the car shortly after her 👀
Rumors of infidelity have been circulating around this pair for years, even before Oscar's debut in F1, but neither of them have ever commented on these claims
Some fans adore their closeness, others find it vile and disrespectful towards Lily— and to some extent, we have to agree, their friendship is certainly like no other
💬 7k 🔃 10k ❤️ 752k 🖇️
username @username
they've known each other for a DECADE, people!! they met at 15 and haven't been apart since!! Said "closeness" was practically inevitable
username @username
since when does carpooling count as cheating?? what century are we in?? the 1800s??
username @username
I've been following both of them for a while and I must say that their friendship seems normal to me? I befriended a guy in high school and we've gotten pretty close over the years (I'm 23 now), but that was it — just friends, nothing more
username @username
some of you need to put your phones down, go outside and touch some grass bc this is getting out of hand
username @username
I believe they don't care about what you think 😂 they make tons of money while fulfilling their childhood dreams, they don't give a damn about y'all 😂
username @username
if they want each other so bad as you say, don't you think they'd be dating by now?
username @username
until they say so themselves, I’m considering them friends and nothing more if Oscar ever decides to change things up, he has my full support
➥ username @username
why would you ever support the idea of him going for Lily’s older sister?? that’s weird as fuck what 😭
yn_zneimer posted a story!
♥︎ by opeightyone, oscarpiastri and 72k others
➥ oscarpiastri still your #1?
➥ yn_zneimer my one and only, you know that
➥ oscarpiastri good, keep it that way
lando posted a story!
♥︎ by ynhq, mclarenf1 and 249k others
➥ yn_zneimer not true, i look scrumptious 😋
➥ lando you talking about the pizza slice? yn_zneimer reacted with a 😐
🗓️ June 2025 | Montreal, Canada
yn_updates @yn_updates
During her performance in Montréal yesterday, Y/N pointed at a fan's sign while singing her latest hit 'No Way to Live'!! 🩷
💬 81 🔃 5k ❤️ 72k 🖇️
username @username
she giggled like a little girl when she spotted it in the crowd 😭🩷 what a cutiee
username @username
breaking up with your boyfriend to get the full experience of Y/N's music is so valid, i'd do it too if i had one 💀
username @username
she looked absolutely ethereal on that stage, she was destined to be on it 🥹
username @username
her hair, her makeup, her dress?? like helloo?? i'm gagged 😦
username @username
when I heard Marigolds I shed a tear or two, but All Of Me fucking destroyed me 🥲 the way she makes me relate to her should be illegal
username @username
she expresses her feelings so well, i'm genuinely impressed by how she makes pain sound so graceful and poetic
username @username
can we all agree that All Of Me might be the most devastating song on the album?? "You used to captivate me by your resonating light / Now, I'm bound by the life you left behind" MISS ZNEIMER??
username @username
"Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams / Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me" I literally looked at my wall like 😮😮
username @username
I just know that I'll be so annoying when the album comes out 😭 sorry in advance to everyone, especially my dog
🗓️ June 2025 | Toronto, Canada
yn_zneimer
liked by oscarpiastri, tatemcrae and 688k others
yn_zneimer last dump from 🇨🇦 omw to 🇲🇽 (also go stream my babygirl's new song <3)
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username it's so refreshing to see you spend time with Lily and the Piastri sisters after all the cheating allegations 🫶
ynhq gonna blast 'iloveitiloveiloveit' all the way to Austria!! ♥︎ by author
itsbellakayyy can't wait to sing it with you 😚 ♥︎ by author
username does anyone know if she was at the Canadian GP last weekend? i just wanna make sure i didn't miss anything
➥ username she wasn't!! she hasn't attended any since Miami
➥ username neither has Lily i believe 🙌
username can we just acknowledge how smooth her French pronunciation was?? also writing a whole song in said language?? pls have my hand in marriage 🙏😭
username i was absolutely shook and overwhelmed by how stunning she looked my gosh
username if no man wants her, I'll gladly have her all to myself 🤗
username i died a little when she read my sign and told the entire arena what her favorite song was at the moment 😭😭😭
➥ username my jaw dropped when she said 'English Love Affair' by 5SOS bc i LOVE that song with my whole being 🩷
➥ username don't you find it strange? i mean, with all the cheating rumors going around rn?
➥ username can we not? it's just a song man, let that woman breathe
yn_updates @yn_updates
In her latest interview, Y/N played a little snippet of 'Lie' that she'll be performing in Mexico tomorrow!!
💬 11k 🔃 4k ❤️ 496k 🖇️
username @username
The piano, the vocals, the fucking rasp — I'm so done for, it's not even funny anymore 😭
username @username
we're losing our minds over the first minute of it, and she's laughing like it's nothing!! that girl is invincible
username @username
"Breakfast is cold, as cold as our bed / I'm watching you choke down the words that you said" Madame?? I'm gonna ask you nicely to hand over his information so I can beat his ass ☺️☺️☺️
username @username
"I watch you devour, mistake me for bread / Well boy, is you fed?" — that would've been my favorite line if it weren't for the chorus 😮💨
username @username
"Please don't take this as a threat / All I'm saying is if you don't love me no more then / Lie, lie" — you can hear her rage in every other lyric, but this one is softer and more vulnerable 🥺
username @username
Soo, I need to bring a milk chocolate bar and a separate bag full of tissues to her concert tmrw? Ok, noted ✍️
🗓️ July 2025 | United Kingdom
yn_updates @yn_updates
Y/N in Quadrant's newest YT video — rating the F1 drivers based on their fashion and music taste 🎶
💬 529 🔃 3k ❤️ 371k 🖇️
username @username
I need to know her skincare routine asap, she's glowing ✨
username @username
who would've thought going from barely acknowledging each other to being the loudest and most chaotic duo was an option for these two
username @username
when two ultimate jokesters end up in a room together, you know you're screwed 😂
➥ username @username
I love how she got gradually more unhinged as the video went on 😭 her humor is on another level
username @username
immediately putting LH44 in P1? queen has taste alright 🙂↔️
username @username
only she can rock that hairstyle sns 🙌
username @username
Hearing her diss Oscar's questionable fashion made me realize just how close these two must be
➥ username @username
girlie turned red every time his name was mentioned 😬
➥ username @username
I take that as a win tho!! We learned a lot about their high school days and just their dynamic in general
username @username
weekly study sessions in the library? him helping her with her assignments? also hating coffee? him giving her a keychain charm and her still having it?
➥ username @username
Definitely not a good look for her now that he's in a relationship with her sister 😗 and has been for 7 years!!
yn_zneimer
🎵 Better without you • Chris Honor, ChammyVal, KORE
liked by oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer and 550k others
yn_zneimer love being home 🏎️💨🇬🇧
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username we're almost halfway through the tour and i'm not handling it well 😭💔
username should I take that third slide as a sign?
username did anybody clock the song choice? what are you hinting at missy 🧐
lilyzneimer ❤️❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author
username the fashion stars are back!! my absolute favorite, Hattie Piastri and Y/N Zneimer 😍
ynhq we're rocking that wallpaper!! ♥︎ by author
hattiepiastri ⭐⭐⭐ ♥︎ by author
lando delete this‼️you're leaking my secret strategy‼️
➥ yn_zneimer what strategy? pushing glowing buttons? 🤣
➥ lando 😑😑😑
oscarpiastri Making friends, are we? ♥︎ by author
➥ yn_zneimer no friends, only enemies
➥ username did she just-
➥ username quote him? she totally did 😂
username even their interactions on here are starting to weird me the fuck out 😬
➥ username do you think Lily would leave a comment if her boyfriend was having an affair with her sister?? i don't think so
➥ username you guys seriously need to either stop or get admitted to a fucking psych ward atp
🗓️ July 2025 | Belgium
yn_zneimer posted a story!
♥︎ by lnfour, lando and 80k others
➥ lilyzneimer gotta give it to him, that's a brilliant way to sell a product 😂 ♥︎ by author
🗓️ August 2025 | Summer Break
yn_zneimer
🎵 Angel Numbers / Ten Toes • Chris Brown
liked by lizzymcalpine, oscarpiastri and 943k others
yn_zneimer the prettiest destination for a business trip 🇮🇹☕❤️
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username i need to be casual about this, but nothing about this is actually casual and i'm on the verge of having a breakdown 😗
ynhq workin' hard or hardly workin' ♥︎ by author
username what do you mean THE Y/N Zneimer is taken?!? 😭 how could you do this to us girl 😭 who am i supposed to relate to now?
username not a single imperfection on that face 😍
username the tea isn't hot, it's fucking boiling
lilyzneimer 🥰🥰🥰 ♥︎ by author
username why do I feel like I've seen that back before?? could it be her situationship from last year?
➥ username oh i hope not, that man was fooling with her heart like it weighed nothing
tatemcrae that glow? mama 😮💨 ♥︎ by author
username everything in this post is making me salivate 🤤
username what if it's Oscar? and hear me out, the guy that was in ynhq's story yesterday? you cannot tell me that's not the same mop of hair
➥ username should I call your mom or the mental hospital? your choice
worldwide_gossip
liked by f1gossipofficial, username and 203k others
worldwide_gossip‼️BREAKING NEWS‼️
Oscar Piastri was spotted in Italy with none other than Y/N Zneimer, who appears to be sitting outrageously close to the athlete 👀
The person who took the photo even dares to say that Oscar was most likely sitting between Y/N's legs! If you thought the cheating rumors were loud back then, they’ll surely be even louder now 🔊
We're curious to see how they'll handle the situation this time, if they even plan to
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username they look like they were put in timeout for misbehaving 😭😭😭
username you can clearly tell they aren't enjoying themselves like at all
username i hope this is just a silly misunderstanding and that they aren't having an affair 🥲
➥ username to be honest with you, this screams anything but an affair
username I'm pretty sure it's just the angle that makes it seem like he's sitting between her legs 🙌
➥ username1 hi! i'm the one who took the photo and i swear to you, he was sitting between her legs, her elbow was resting on his thigh
➥ username still doesn't really explain why they look so detached from reality
➥ username1 as i was about to leave, Margaret came over — she and Y/N started bickering a little and i overhead Margaret say smth like "suck it up, he's doing it and so are you" but that's about it
➥ username maybe Oscar will be featured in the music video?? that'd be the most logical explanation for this chaos
🗓️ September 2025 | New York City
yn_zneimer
🎵 September • Sparky Deathcap
liked lizzymcalpine, oscarpiastri and 649k others
yn_zneimer NYC BABYY 🗽 Can't believe the tour has come to an end already 🥹
Thank you all for making my dreams come true. And thank you Lily for being my pillar, my nr. 1 supporter, but most importantly my little sister
'Crazy in Love' will be yours in October ❤️
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username time is an illusion.. I don’t care what anyone says, time is a fraud and I don't like it
lilyzneimer 🥹🥹🥹
lilyzneimer from singing me lullabies to performing in front of thousands
username what am I supposed to do with my life now? Can we rewind a bit pls? I don't wanna go back to my boring ass routine 😭
nicolepiastri you were meant to be a star, my love ❤️
hattiepiastri my top artist ⭐
username seeing the Piastris support her will always bring tears into my eyes 😭
sabrinacarpenter here's to many more 🥂⭐
tatemcrae you're coming to mine next year idc
itsbellakayyy thank you for giving me an opportunity to shine by your side ❤️
djotime 👏👏👏
lando invite me next time
➥ yn_zneimer no 😚
➥ username this is something I'm sure I won't get fucking used to 😭 weirdest combination ever but I love it
username see how she mentioned Lily in her caption? haters, read it every single day 😁 maybe that will finally open your eyes
🗓️ October 2025 | Marina Bay, Singapore
worldwide_gossip
liked by username, wagconfession and 648k others
worldwide_gossip British singer and songwriter Y/N Zneimer, older sister of Lily Zneimer—Oscar Piastri’s ex-girlfriend—has stunned her fans with her latest hit called 'Crazy in Love'!!
The McLaren F1 driver makes an appearance towards the end of the music video, where he and Y/N share a seemingly passionate kiss 💋
Some lyrics suggest that there was once a fleeting moment of romance between the two — but when exactly this happened is unclear!!
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username at first I cheered, then my eyes fell out of their sockets, I put them back in just to pull them out again bc what the actual fuck 😃
➥ username this just summed up all of the stages I went through as I read the article
username my jaw is on the floor and I don’t think it’ll ever get back up
username what kind of homie hopping is this? 🤨
username soo that's why they were seen together in Italy, they were filming the music video
username her manager set her up with her sister's ex? oh, i would crash the fuck out if somebody did that to me 😤
username 8 billion people to choose from btw
username IS THAT REAL CHAT?!?
username for the sake of my mental health that's AI 🙏
username that was the juiciest kiss I’ve ever seen in my 18 years of being on this planet
username can we talk about how significantly his shoulders relaxed when their lips met? that man was starving for an opportunity like this his whole life 🙌
username dare I say the hottest pairing we could’ve gotten from Margaret? yes, yes I dare 🙂↕️
username this wasn’t on my 2025 bingo card but I kinda dig it ngl
username that wasn’t a kiss, that was a full-blown make out sesh jeez 🥵
username it's the way he shuddered when she tugged on the hair at the nape of his neck for me 😝
username it wasn’t the kiss that got me kicking my feet and all, it was his hand placement 😖
➥ username I genuinely lost it when he slipped his hands under her top-
username 👏 he 👏 didn’t 👏 let 👏 her 👏 pull 👏 away 👏 y’all 👏
username that wet pop when they separated gollyy 😩
➥ username not to mention how the screen went dark with it ahh
username he was devouring her so politely 😭 no aggression, just pure passion
username that man has been in love with her since day 1 and I’ll die on that hill if I have to ✌️
🗓️ | Race Day
op81fanpage @op81fanpage
GUYS!! Oscar and Y/N arrived to the paddock together 😭
We screamed when she stopped to talk to us, the nicest woman ever!! We asked what she was doing here and she said: "Just supporting Osc" 🥹 They are growing on me FAST
💬 5k 🔃 3k ❤️ 971k 🖇️
username @username
I love how she didn’t sign anything and just came over for a chat, my heart can’t handle her modesty 😭😭
username @username
I melted when she ran after Oscar with a little boy’s cap and asked him to sign it 🥹 then he just stopped walking and watched her return it to the kid with this sheer softness on his face like AHHH
username @username
I hope I’m not the only one who noticed this, but their hands kept brushing and how he kept turning to make sure she was okay- 🥲
username @username
did you all forget who she is? 😐
➥ username @username
Oscar and Lily broke up in March, he has been single for 7 months — if he wants to be with Y/N, so be it 🙌 His whereabouts are his and his only, don’t be intrusive and negative
🗓️ November 2025
username @username
we haven't seen Y/N in the paddock since Singapore and I can officially say that I'm getting kinda hungry 😭
💬 529 🔃 3k ❤️ 371k 🖇️
➥ username @username
no because same!! The past few races were hell for not only us, but Oscar as well ☹️ he needs her there
➥ username @username
she sang at Lizzy's tour last night but maybe she'll find the time to come to Las Vegas?
➥ username @username
she won't make it to Las Vegas either, they're doing a short meet n greet in Los Angeles (similar to the one in Washington) ❤️
➥ username @username
she looked so out of it in Washington ☹️ the photos ynhq posted afterwards broke me, we need a y/nscar reunion asap
ynhq posted a story!
♥︎ by lilyzneimer, lando and 47k others
🗓️ December 2025 | After Abu Dhabi
yn_zneimer posted a story!
♥︎ by oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer and 81k others
➥ oscarpiastri is it gonna be about me again?
➥ yn_zneimer don't get too smug about it
➥ oscarpiastri I would never, my love 😊 ♥︎ by author
oscarpiastri posted a story!
♥︎ by opeightyone, lilyzneimer and 851k others
➥ yn_zneimer what did we say?
➥ oscarpiastri I am allowed to brag about my girlfriend, am I not?
➥ yn_zneimer darling, everyone knows it's about you 😭
➥ oscarpiastri Well, might as well plead guilty
➥ oscarpiastri For good messure 😁 yn_zneimer reacted with a 😭
Summary: Oscar gets drunk at a party and won't leave your side
Song: See You Again · Kali Uchis
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🤭🫶
Word count: 7.0k
MASTERLIST - F1
"I swear, if you don't stop clinging to me like a koala, I'm going to start charging rent," you mutter, trying—and failing—to pry Oscar's fingers off your waist.
He grins, loose-limbed and heavy against your side, the warmth of him seeping through your jacket. "But you're comfy," he slurs, as if that explains everything.
The party noise swirls around you both—laughter, the thump of bass, someone shrieking over spilled beer—but Oscar might as well be deaf to it. His focus is singular, and unfortunately, it's you.
You'd known he was a lightweight. Known he shouldn't have taken that fourth shot. But watching him try to argue with a potted plant twenty minutes ago had been funny, right up until he'd latched onto you like you were his personal life raft.
Now, every time you shift, his grip tightens, as if you might dissolve into the crowd if he blinks.
"Oscar," you say, exasperated, as he nuzzles his forehead against your shoulder. "You're gonna regret this tomorrow."
"Don't care," Oscar mumbles into your collarbone, his breath warm and whiskey-sweet. "Tomorrow-me's problem." His fingers twist into the fabric of your shirt like he's anchoring himself to the earth.
You sigh, but there's no real heat in it—just the fond, familiar ache of loving someone who turns into a human barnacle after three drinks.
Across the room, Lando catches your eye and mouths help you with an exaggerated grimace, miming choking himself.
You flip him off half-heartedly, but your free hand absently cards through Oscar's hair, smoothing down the wild tufts where he'd been leaning against you. He makes a noise like a contented engine, pressing closer.
"You're embarrassing me," you lie, because the truth is you'd let him carve his initials into your ribs if he asked right now. The party blurs at the edges, unimportant next to the weight of him, the way his lashes flutter against your neck when he blinks too slow.
Someone bumps into you, sloshing beer dangerously close to your shoes, and Oscar—drunk, stupid, yours—instantly straightens like he's been electrocuted.
"Hey," he says, too loud, pointing a wobbly finger at the offender. "Watch it. This is my—" He hiccups. "—favorite person." The guy backs off, hands up, and you bury your face in Oscar's shoulder to hide the grin splitting your face.
The guy retreats into the crowd, but Oscar stays upright for approximately three seconds before collapsing back against you with all the grace of a felled tree.
“Did you see that?” he mumbles into your collarbone, breath hot and uneven. “Protect’n you.”
His fingers find your waist again, possessive even in their clumsiness. You’re pretty sure he’s trying to glare at the room at large, but his eyes keep crossing, and it’s unfairly endearing.
“Yeah, yeah, my hero,” you deadpan, but your voice cracks halfway through, and now Lando is across the room making kissy faces at you. You flip him off again, but Oscar catches your wrist mid-gesture, blinking up at you with sudden, alarming intensity.
“What?” you ask, bracing for drunken philosophy or a declaration of love so saccharine it’ll rot your teeth.
Instead, he frowns. “You’re… sparkly.”
You blink. “What?”
Oscar squints at you, his eyebrows knitting together in drunken concentration. "Like… glitter," he insists, poking your cheek with one uncoordinated finger. "But not the cheap kind. The good kind. The kind that—"
He stops, frowns deeper. "Why are you sparkly?"
You snort, batting his hand away. "I'm not sparkly, you're just drunk off your ass."
But Oscar isn't listening. He's too busy leaning in, his nose brushing against your temple as he inhales dramatically. "You smell sparkly too," he declares, as if this makes perfect sense.
His breath ghosts over your skin, warm and tinged with the sharp tang of whiskey. "Like… lemons. But fancy."
"You're an idiot," you say, but you're laughing now, unable to help it. His entire face lights up at the sound, like you've just handed him the moon.
Oscar’s grin widens, lopsided and bright, as if your laughter is the only thing anchoring him to reality. “See?” he slurs, tapping your nose with his index finger. “Sparkly.”
His hand drops to your shoulder, then slides down your arm like he’s mapping you, committing every inch to memory. “Also soft. And warm. And—” His words dissolve into a hiccup, and he blinks, owlish, as if surprised by his own body’s betrayal.
You roll your eyes, but your chest feels too tight, too full. “You’re gonna forget all this tomorrow,” you mutter, mostly to yourself, but Oscar’s head snaps up like you’ve accused him of treason.
“No,” he says, suddenly grave. His fingers tighten around your wrist, his thumb pressing into your pulse point. “I remember everything about you. Always.”
The intensity in his voice is startling—too raw for a drunk man clinging to you in the middle of a crowded party. For a second, you forget how to breathe.
Then he ruins it by swaying violently to the left, nearly taking you both down. You grab his shoulders, steadying him, and he beams at you like you’ve just performed a miracle.
“My hero,” he echoes, throwing your own words back at you with a dopey smile.
The music shifts to something slower, bass thumping lazily against your ribs, and Oscar—predictably—tries to sway along with it, nearly kneeing you in the thigh.
"Dance with me," he demands, words sticky-sweet with alcohol, and before you can protest, he's spinning you both in a lopsided circle that sends a nearby couple scrambling out of the way.
His hands are everywhere—your waist, your shoulders, the back of your neck—like he can't decide where to anchor himself.
"You're gonna make me puke if you keep spinning like that," you warn, but he just laughs, breathless and bright, and pulls you closer until your foreheads bump.
"Then I'll hold your hair back," he says, like it's a romantic promise. His nose brushes yours, clumsy with affection, and for a second, you let yourself imagine this is some grand romantic moment—until he trips over his own feet and sends you both crashing into a nearby couch.
The impact knocks the air from your lungs, but Oscar just giggles, sprawled half on top of you, his fingers tangled in the hem of your shirt.
"Oscar," you wheeze, "you're crushing me."
He doesn’t move. Instead, Oscar nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, exhaling a sigh that smells like cheap whiskey and mint gum. “M’not,” he argues, though his entire body is a dead weight pinning you to the couch.
One of his knees is wedged uncomfortably between yours, and his elbow is digging into your ribs, but his fingers are gentle where they fiddle with the frayed edge of your shirt. “You’re just… squishy. In the good way.”
You groan, shoving at his shoulder, but he’s immovable, a drunk, human boulder. Across the room, Lando is openly cackling, his phone raised to film the disaster. “I swear to god, Oscar, if you don’t get off me—”
“Or what?” he challenges, lifting his head just enough to blink down at you, his eyes hazy with alcohol and something softer, something that makes your stomach flip.
His hair is a mess, sticking up in every direction, and there’s a smudge of what might be salsa on his chin. You should be annoyed. You are annoyed. But then he grins, slow and dopey, and your resolve crumbles like wet sand.
“Or I’ll tell everyone about the time you cried during Finding Nemo,” you threaten, half-hearted.
Oscar gasps, scandalized, and tries—badly—to clap a hand over your mouth. “That was one time,” he hisses, but his fingers slip off your face as he overbalances, nearly face-planting into your chest.
You catch him by the shoulders, laughing despite yourself as he mutters something unintelligible into your collarbone. His breath is warm, his weight familiar, and you’re suddenly, acutely aware of how close he is—how his knee is still wedged between yours, how his hips press against your thigh.
“You’re leaking,” you say, poking his cheek where a drop of sweat slides down his temple. He wrinkles his nose, trying to shake it off like a dog, but only succeeds in smearing it across your shirt. “God, you’re disgusting.”
“You love it,” he counters, grinning when you groan. His fingers find your wrist again, tracing idle circles over your pulse point. The touch is feather-light, almost absentminded, but it sends a shiver up your spine. You tell yourself it’s the AC.
Across the room, Lando wolf-whistles, and Oscar flips him off without looking, his focus still entirely on you. “Stop distracting me,” he murmurs, though he’s the one currently using you as a human pillow. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, slow and deliberate, and you swallow hard.
His thumb keeps moving—small, absent circles against the inside of your wrist—and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
The party noise fades into a dull roar, unimportant next to the weight of Oscar’s body pressing yours into the couch cushions.
Someone shouts something about a beer pong rematch, and Oscar mumbles, “Fuck off,” into your collarbone, his breath warm and damp through the fabric of your shirt.
“You’re gonna be such a menace tomorrow,” you sigh, but your fingers curl into the back of his hoodie, holding him there. His hair tickles your chin when he shifts, and you can’t help but press a kiss to the top of his head, quick and instinctive.
Oscar stills, then lifts his head with the slow, deliberate focus of someone three drinks past coherent. His eyes are glassy, his pupils blown wide, and for a second, you think he might actually kiss you—right here, in front of everyone, with salsa still on his chin.
Instead, he says, very seriously, “Your face is nice.”
You snort. “Thanks.”
Oscar blinks at you, slow and heavy-lidded, like he’s trying to decipher some profound mystery written in the lines of your face. “No, I mean—” He pauses, frowns, then pokes your cheek again. “It’s really nice. Like… symmetrical.”
His finger drags down to your jaw, tracing it with drunken reverence. “And your mouth does this thing where it—” He mimics your expression, scrunching his nose in a way that makes him look like a confused puppy. “—and it’s stupid. I hate it.”
“You’re such a liar,” you laugh, shoving at his chest, but he catches your hand mid-motion, lacing his fingers through yours with surprising coordination for someone who just face-planted into you.
His palm is warm, slightly clammy, and he squeezes like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go.
“M’not,” he insists, swaying even while seated. The couch creaks under his weight as he leans closer, his knee digging into your thigh.
“You’re just… you. And I’m—” He hiccups, then grins, lopsided and bright. “—really drunk. But also right.”
The music swells around you, bass thumping through the cushions, and Oscar’s head bobs along to a rhythm only he can hear.
His free hand lands on your knee, fingers tapping absentmindedly, and you’re struck by how familiar he feels—the way his touch maps your body like he’s relearning it every time, even after all these years.
Oscar’s fingers twitch against your knee, his grip slackening as the alcohol finally catches up to him. His eyelids droop, heavy as lead, but he forces them open with a determined blink.
“No,” he mumbles, shaking his head like a wet dog. “No sleeping. Gotta… watch you.” His thumb brushes your kneecap, rough and warm, and you snort.
“Watch me what? Breathe?” You flick his forehead lightly, and he scrunches his nose, swatting at your hand like it’s a bothersome fly. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Ridiculously in love,” he corrects, slurring the last word into something that sounds more like “luhv.” His grin is dopey, unfocused, and you’re hit with the sudden, overwhelming urge to bite his cheek.
Instead, you settle for rolling your eyes, but your fingers tighten around his where they’re tangled in yours.
Across the room, Lando lets out a loud, exaggerated yawn. “Get a room!” he shouts, tossing a crumpled napkin in your direction. It bounces off Oscar’s shoulder, and he whips his head around so fast you’re surprised he doesn’t give himself whiplash.
Oscar scowls at Lando, his expression so comically offended that you have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. "Rude," he announces to the room at large, waving an uncoordinated hand in Lando's general direction. "Very rude."
His fingers fumble against yours, squeezing like he's trying to prove a point, and you can't help the way your thumb strokes the back of his hand in response.
Lando just grins, tossing another napkin—this one balled up tighter—and it lands squarely on Oscar's forehead. Oscar blinks, cross-eyed, trying to focus on it as it slides down his nose and into your lap.
"Did he just—?" he starts, voice rising in indignation, but you’re already snatching the napkin and chucking it back at Lando with surprising accuracy. It hits him square between the eyes, and he yelps, clutching his forehead dramatically.
"Justice," you declare, and Oscar beams at you like you've just won the Grand Prix single-handedly.
"Justice," he echoes solemnly, nodding so hard his hair flops into his eyes. He doesn’t bother brushing it away, just keeps staring at you with that same dopey grin, his free hand coming up to poke your cheek again.
"You’re so good at that. Throwing things. And justice." His words slur together, blending into one long, affectionate ramble. "And existing. You’re really good at existing."
Oscar’s head lolls forward suddenly, his forehead thumping against your shoulder with a dull thud. “M’tired,” he mumbles into your collarbone, his breath hot and uneven.
His fingers twitch against your waist, slackening for a second before tightening again, as if his body is fighting a losing battle against the alcohol. “But I don’t wanna sleep. ‘Cause then I’ll miss you.”
You snort, running a hand through his hair—gently this time, smoothing down the wild strands sticking up at odd angles. “I’ll still be here when you wake up, idiot.”
He lifts his head just enough to squint at you, his eyes bleary and unfocused. “Promise?” The word comes out small, almost childish, and something in your chest clenches.
“Yeah,” you say, softer than you meant to. “Promise.”
The couch cushions shift as Oscar finally surrenders to exhaustion, his body going slack against yours with all the grace of a sack of potatoes. His breathing evens out almost instantly, warm puffs of air ghosting over your neck where his face is smushed against your shoulder.
Across the room, Lando mouths finally and makes a show of wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. You flip him off, but your fingers stay tangled in Oscar’s hair, gently scratching his scalp the way he likes—not that he’d ever admit it sober.
Someone turns the music down, and the sudden drop in volume makes Oscar stir with a grumble, his nose scrunching adorably.
“No,” he mumbles, pressing closer like he’s trying to burrow into your ribs. His hand fists in your shirt, knuckles brushing the bare skin of your stomach where the fabric’s ridden up. “Stay.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, thumbing away a smudge of salsa from his chin. His stubble rasps against your fingertips, rough and familiar.
Lando plops down on the coffee table in front of you, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “So,” he stage-whispers, “you gonna carry him home like a knight in shining armor, or—”
You kick Lando’s shin lightly, careful not to jostle Oscar too much. “Shut up,” you mutter, but your voice lacks any real bite. Oscar’s fingers tighten reflexively around your shirt, his knuckles pressing into your hipbone like a brand. “I’m not dragging his drunk ass across town.”
Lando leans in, elbows on his knees, his grin widening. “Aw, but it’d be romantic. Like a fireman carry. Very macho.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and you resist the urge to flip him off again—mostly because Oscar’s grip on your hand would make it a logistical nightmare.
“I’ll settle for not dropping him on his head,” you say dryly, just as Oscar mumbles something unintelligible into your neck. His breath hitches, warm and damp against your skin, and then—alarmingly—he goes completely still. “Oh god, please don’t puke on me.”
Lando snorts, reaching over to poke Oscar’s cheek. “He’s out cold.” Oscar doesn’t even twitch, his lashes casting shadows over his flushed cheeks. “Like a baby koala.”
The couch creaks under Oscar’s dead weight as you shift, trying to dislodge his knee from your ribs without waking him. No luck—he’s out cold, his breath puffing warm and whiskey-sweet against your throat.
Lando leans in, poking Oscar’s cheek again with the tip of his finger. “Think he’s hibernating,” he stage-whispers. “Should we check his pulse?”
You flick Lando’s forehead. “Help me get him upright, you ass.”
Lando grins but obliges, sliding an arm under Oscar’s shoulders while you maneuver his legs off your lap. Oscar makes a soft, protesting noise, his forehead scrunching, but doesn’t wake.
His grip on your shirt stays stubbornly tight, even as Lando hoists him into a semi-upright position. “Christ, he’s like a sack of wet cement,” Lando grunts, adjusting his grip. “How do you deal with this every time?”
“Practice,” you mutter, prying Oscar’s fingers loose one by one. His hand flops limply into his lap, and for a second, he looks so young—hair mussed, lips slightly parted, a faint crease between his brows like he’s dreaming hard. You resist the urge to smooth it away with your thumb. Barely.
The party's neon lights flicker overhead as you hook Oscar's arm around your shoulders, his weight sagging into you like a deflating balloon.
"You're gonna owe me so many favors after this," you mutter, adjusting your grip on his waist as he mumbles something incoherent against your temple.
His breath smells like cheap tequila and the spearmint gum he'd been chewing earlier—a combination that shouldn't be as endearing as it is.
Lando trails behind you, dramatically miming holding a camera. "Say cheese, lovebirds," he stage-whispers, and you flip him off over your shoulder without breaking stride.
Oscar's shoe catches on the threshold as you haul him through the front door, sending you both stumbling into the cool night air. He blinks owlishly at the sudden change, his pupils dilating in the dim streetlight.
"Whoa," he breathes, swaying dangerously as he tilts his head back to stare at the sky. "The stars are—" He hiccups. "—spinning."
You tighten your hold on him before he can face-plant into the pavement. "That's the alcohol, genius."
Oscar’s knees buckle halfway down the driveway, and you barely manage to catch him before he becomes one with the asphalt. “Christ, Piastri,” you grunt, hauling him upright as he giggles into your shoulder, his breath hot and uneven. “You’re like trying to carry a bag of wet sand.”
“A sexy bag of wet sand,” he corrects, slumping against you with all the coordination of a newborn giraffe. His fingers fumble at your waistband, missing entirely and landing on your hipbone instead.
“Wait—why’re we outside? Did we get kicked out?” He gasps, scandalized. “Was it Lando?”
You steer him toward your car, ignoring his dramatic flailing. “No, you idiot, we’re going home before you start crying over Finding Nemo again.”
Oscar stops dead, nearly sending you both sprawling. “I told you,” he hisses, jabbing a wobbly finger at your chest, “that was one time—” His foot catches on a crack in the pavement, and suddenly you’re grappling with 70 kilograms of drunk F1 driver trying to hug the sidewalk. “The ground’s nice,” he informs the concrete, cheek smushed against it. “Cool. Like you.”
You sigh, grabbing Oscar’s hoodie like a scruffing a disobedient puppy and hauling him upright. “If you puke on my shoes, I’m divorcing you.”
“We’re not married,” he slurs, but he lets you maneuver him into the passenger seat with surprising compliance. His limbs flop bonelessly as you buckle him in, his head lolling against the window. “Yet,” he adds, blinking up at you with sudden, alarming clarity.
You freeze, seatbelt halfway clicked. “What?”
Oscar grins, slow and lopsided, and taps your nose. “Sparkly,” he declares, as if that explains everything. Then his eyes roll back, and he’s snoring before you can even shut the door.
The car engine purrs to life, a quiet hum beneath Oscar’s soft snoring. You adjust the rearview mirror just in time to catch Lando blowing an exaggerated kiss from the porch before disappearing back into the party.
Shaking your head, you reach over to tug Oscar’s seatbelt tighter—his head had started to droop forward at an alarming angle. He mumbles something unintelligible, his nose scrunching adorably before he settles again, lips slightly parted.
Streetlights flicker overhead as you pull onto the road, casting gold stripes across Oscar’s slack face. His hoodie rides up where he’s slumped, exposing a sliver of stomach above his waistband. You resist the urge to poke it. Barely.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you mutter, turning the wheel with one hand while the other absently brushes hair from his forehead. His skin is warm under your fingertips, flushed from alcohol and the stuffy party air.
A sudden bump in the road jostles him awake. Oscar blinks, disoriented, before his bleary gaze lands on you. “Hey,” he slurs, reaching out to pat your knee like he’s reassuring himself you’re real. His fingers are clumsy, missing twice before settling. “You’re driving.”
"Astute observation," you deadpan, swatting his hand away before it can wander further up your thigh.
Oscar hums, unfazed, and lets his fingers drape over your knee like a drunken limpet. The streetlights paint his face in gold and shadow, catching on the curve of his slack mouth.
"You're good at it," he announces, apropos of nothing. His thumb rubs circles against your kneecap, slow and deliberate. "Driving. And—" He hiccups, forehead thumping against the window. "—existing. Mainly existing."
The car fills with the scent of spearmint and whiskey as he exhales loudly, fogging up the glass. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he lifts a finger to draw a lopsided heart in the condensation. It drips almost immediately, and he frowns like it's betrayed him.
"Focus on not puking," you advise, turning onto your street. Oscar makes a wounded noise but obediently presses his forehead to the cool glass, his breath leaving fresh clouds with every exhale.
His fingers stay tangled in the fabric of your jeans, though—anchoring himself to you even in his half-conscious state.
The tires crunch over gravel as you pull into the driveway, Oscar’s head lolling against the window with every slight bump. He groans, fingers tightening reflexively around your knee. “Are we—” He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “—are we there yet?”
“Yes, princess,” you sigh, shifting into park just as Oscar makes a frantic grab for the door handle. He nearly faceplants onto the pavement in his haste to escape the car, catching himself at the last second with a drunken wheeze.
“Grass,” he gasps, like a man discovering water after days in the desert, and flops onto the lawn with all the grace of a beached seal. His limbs splay out, fingers digging into the dew-damp blades. “Cool. Good.”
You circle the car, nudging his hip with your shoe. “You planning to sleep out here?”
Oscar rolls onto his back, arms spread wide like he’s trying to make grass angels. “Maybe,” he slurs, squinting up at you with one eye closed against the porch light.
His hoodie’s ridden up, exposing a strip of sunburned skin above his waistband. “It’s nice. Like… a big, green bed.” He pats the lawn beside him with drunken solemnity. “Join me.”
“In your dreams,” you mutter, but when you bend to haul him upright, he catches your wrist with surprising speed. His thumb finds your pulse point, pressing in time with the crickets chirping in the hedges.
“You’re sparkly,” he informs the night sky, as if it’s a vital meteorological report. His other hand flops toward your face, fingers brushing your cheekbone. “Even in the dark. How?”
You sigh, batting his hand away. “Alcohol poisoning. Up.”
Oscar’s fingers tighten around your wrist as you try to drag him upright, his grip surprisingly strong for someone who just tried to lick the grass.
“Wait,” he slurs, blinking up at you with sudden intensity. The porch light catches the flecks of gold in his irises, making them look liquid in the dark. “Before we go inside—I need to tell you something.” His voice drops to a whisper, conspiratorial and grave. “It’s important.”
You brace for drunken nonsense—a declaration that the moon is made of cheese or that he’s secretly a wizard—but Oscar just swallows hard, his throat bobbing.
“Your ears,” he says, very seriously. “They’re perfect.” His free hand reaches up, thumb brushing the shell of your ear with reverent clumsiness. “Like… little seashells. But warmer. And—hic—attached to your head.”
You snort, swatting his hand away. “You’re an idiot.”
“Your idiot,” he corrects, grinning when you roll your eyes. The expression falters as a gust of wind ruffles his hair, and he shivers violently, his teeth chattering. “Fuck, it’s cold.”
Oscar’s fingers tremble against your wrist as another gust of wind whips through the yard, sending a stray leaf spiraling into his hair. “See?” he accuses, pointing at it like it’s a personal affront. “Nature hates me.”
His attempt to flick it away only results in him smacking himself in the forehead, and you bite your lip to keep from laughing as he blinks, dazed.
“Up,” you command, hauling him to his feet with a grunt. He sways into you like a ship listing in a storm, his forehead thumping against your shoulder. “Jesus, you’re like a malfunctioning robot.”
“Beep boop,” Oscar mumbles into your collarbone, his breath hot through the fabric of your shirt. His hands find your waist, fingers slipping under the hem to press against bare skin. “Error: too cold. Please insert warm.”
You swat his wandering hands away, but he just whines, nosing at your neck like a starved puppy. “If you’re trying to be cute, it’s not working.”
Oscar’s lips brush your pulse point, feather-light and whiskey-warm, and you freeze. “I know,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice slurred with sleep and alcohol.
His fingers trace idle patterns over your hipbone through your shirt, clumsy but deliberate. “That’s why I’m being hot instead.”
You bark a laugh, shoving his shoulder hard enough that he stumbles back a step. “You’re a disaster,” you inform him, wiping at your neck like you can scrub away the phantom press of his mouth.
Oscar just grins, lopsided and unrepentant, as he sways dangerously on the doorstep.
The key jams in the lock—because of course it does—and Oscar leans his full weight against your back, his chin hooking over your shoulder.
“Need help?” he asks, breath hot in your ear, as his hands slide around your waist to helpfully cover yours on the key. His fingers are warm and slightly sticky, his grip utterly useless.
“You’re hindering,” you mutter, elbowing him in the ribs. He wheezes but doesn’t let go, just nuzzles his nose against your temple like an overgrown cat.
The lock finally gives with a click, and you stagger forward as Oscar’s weight follows you into the dark hallway.
The door swings shut behind you with a thud, plunging the hallway into darkness save for the dim glow of the streetlight filtering through the blinds.
Oscar immediately trips over his own feet, sending you both crashing into the wall with a muffled oomph. His laughter is warm against your neck, breathless and whiskey-sweet.
"Shhh," you hiss, though you're biting back a grin. "You'll wake the neighbors."
Oscar presses a finger to his lips with exaggerated solemnity—then immediately hiccups, loud enough to echo. His eyes widen comically. "Not my fault," he whispers, as if the hiccup was a sentient being that had betrayed him.
You drag him toward the couch, but he digs his heels in at the last second, swaying like a sapling in a storm. "Wait," he insists, gripping your shoulders with drunken intensity. "Important question."
His brow furrows as he struggles to articulate whatever profound thought is trying to surface through the alcohol haze.
Oscar's mouth opens and shuts twice before he finally manages, "Do giraffes… have nightmares?" He blinks at you like this is a perfectly reasonable inquiry, his fingers tightening in your shirt.
You stare at him. The streetlight casts jagged shadows across his face, highlighting the salsa stain that's somehow migrated to his eyebrow. "What?"
His hands flap wildly, nearly smacking you in the chin. "Like—hic—if they dream about falling. Because they're so tall." He demonstrates by standing on tiptoe, immediately losing balance and catching himself on your shoulders.
His nose bumps yours. "Evolutionary disadvantage," he whispers conspiratorially, breath warm with tequila.
The fridge hums in the kitchen as you maneuver him toward the couch, his knees buckling every third step. "You're an evolutionary disadvantage," you mutter, just as Oscar's foot catches on the rug. He goes down like a felled tree, dragging you with him in a tangle of limbs.
Oscar’s lips collide with yours in the dark—more of a drunken headbutt than a kiss—teeth clacking together as he misses twice before finally landing.
His mouth is warm and off-center, his nose mashed awkwardly against your cheekbone. He tastes like spearmint gum and regret, his breath hitching when you instinctively bite his lower lip too hard.
“Ow,” he mumbles against your mouth, but doesn’t pull away. His hands fumble at your waist, fingers slipping under your shirt to press against bare skin. “You bit me.”
You swallow a laugh. “You aimed for me.”
He pulls back just enough to blink at you, his pupils blown wide in the dim light. The streetlight stripes gold across his forehead, catching the crease between his brows.
“M’not drunk,” he lies, swaying even while kneeling over you. His thumb brushes your hipbone, rough and warm. “Just… gravity’s stronger here.”
You snort, shoving at his chest. “Gravity’s normal, you’re just—”
Oscar kisses you again—or tries to. His mouth lands half on your chin, half on your lower lip, sticky with whiskey and the spearmint gum he’d been chewing earlier.
He makes a frustrated noise in the back of his throat, fingers tightening on your waist as he adjusts his aim.
This time, he gets it right: his lips slotting against yours with surprising coordination for someone who just tried to lick the sidewalk.
It’s messy. All elbows and too much teeth and the sharp tang of tequila on his tongue. His knee digs into your thigh as he leans in too far, too fast, nearly sending you both toppling sideways.
You grab his shoulders to steady him, and he hums against your mouth, pleased, like you’ve just handed him the moon.
Then he hiccups.
The sound startles him so badly he jerks back, blinking down at you with wide, glassy eyes. “That wasn’t me,” he announces, grave, as if his own diaphragm has betrayed him.
His thumb swipes at your lower lip where he’d bitten it, clumsy and apologetic. “Sabotage.”
You snort, shoving at his chest, but he doesn’t budge—just wobbles slightly, his knee digging deeper into your thigh. “Get off me before you pass out mid-kiss.”
Oscar’s brow furrows. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he declares, and dives back in before you can protest. This time, his mouth lands squarely on yours, warm and insistent.
His hands cup your face, thumbs brushing your cheekbones like he’s trying to memorize the shape of you through touch alone.
Your fingers curl into Oscar's hoodie as his mouth moves clumsily against yours—too wet, too eager, his teeth catching your lower lip when he exhales sharply through his nose.
He makes a frustrated noise when you tilt your head to adjust the angle, his grip tightening on your jaw like he's afraid you'll vanish if he lets go.
"Can you be my girlfriend?" Oscar whispered against your lips, his breath warm and whiskey-sweet.
His forehead bumped yours as he swayed, fingers tightening in your shirt like he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go.
You snorted, thumbing away a smear of salsa from his chin. "I already am, idiot."
"Oh, lucky me," he celebrated, voice slurring into your collarbone as he flopped backward onto the couch, dragging you with him in a graceless heap.
His arms locked around your waist like a drunken vice, his grin pressing against your shoulder blade. "Won the girlfriend lottery. Jackpot. Billion-dollar prize."
His fingers dug into your hips, thumbs tracing absent circles against the dip of your waist. "Should… should get a trophy. Or a—hic—a medal. Gold. Shiny. Like you."
The couch creaks ominously as Oscar’s dead weight drags you both sideways, his arms locking around your torso like a drunken octopus.
“No escaping now,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his breath hot through the fabric of your shirt.
His knee hooks over yours, pinning you in place with startling efficiency for someone who just face-planted into a lawn. “You’re stuck with me.”
You snort, attempting to wriggle free, but he tightens his grip with a whine, his fingers digging into your ribs. “Christ, Piastri, you’re like a limpet.”
“A sexy limpet,” he slurs, nuzzling his nose against your collarbone. His lips brush the skin above your collar, damp and slightly sticky from spilled drinks. “With… with really good taste in girlfriends.” The word stretches into three syllables, his tongue tripping over the consonants.
The streetlight outside flickers, casting gold stripes across Oscar’s slack face. His eyelashes flutter as he fights sleep, blinking up at you with hazy determination.
“Gotta watch you,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing circles against your hipbone. “In case… in case you disappear.” His voice drops to a whisper, as if sharing a secret. “Sometimes things do that. When I’m drunk. Like… like keys.”
You roll your eyes but let him pull you closer, his warmth seeping through your clothes. “I’m not gonna vanish, idiot.”
Oscar hums, unconvinced, and tangles his legs with yours, effectively trapping you. His socked foot brushes your ankle, cold and slightly damp from where he’d stepped in a puddle earlier.
“Prove it,” he challenges, poking your cheek. “Say something… unpredictable.”
“You’re a disaster.”
He gasps, clutching his chest dramatically. “Predictable betrayal.” His hand flops over your mouth, fingers splaying across your lips. “Shh. No more crimes.”
You bite his palm—gently—and he yelps, jerking back like you’ve scalded him. “Violence,” he accuses, cradling his hand to his chest. His lower lip juts out, wobbling. “After I nurtured you.”
“You spilled whiskey on my shoes.”
Oscar squints at your feet, swaying slightly even while lying down. “They… they look better now.” His forehead thumps against your collarbone as he loses the battle with gravity. “Art.”
You sigh, shifting to accommodate his deadweight, and he makes a soft, pleased noise, nosing at the hollow of your throat. His breath evens out within seconds, warm and whiskey-sweet against your skin. The streetlight paints his eyelashes gold where they fan across his cheeks, his grip slackening around your waist.
The couch groans when you try to adjust your position, and Oscar’s knee jerks reflexively, catching you in the ribs. “Stay,” he mumbles into your shoulder, his voice thick with sleep. His fingers twitch against your hipbone, blindly seeking purchase. “‘S comfy.”
“You’re a human furnace,” you mutter, but stop wriggling. Oscar hums, satisfied, and hooks his ankle around yours like a possessive koala. His sock is damp from where he stepped in a puddle earlier, cold against your skin.
The clock on the wall ticks softly, the sound blending with Oscar’s steady breathing. His lips part slightly, his exhales warm against your collarbone.
You card your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp the way he likes, and he melts further into you with a contented sigh. His exhales grow slower, deeper, whiskey-sweet puffs against your collarbone.
The streetlight outside flickers once—a brief interruption in the gold stripes painting Oscar’s slack face—and then his grip finally goes lax around your waist.
His fingers twitch once, twice, then still entirely, curled loosely in the fabric of your shirt like he’s holding onto you even in sleep. You can’t resist brushing his fringe back, your thumb skimming the faint crease between his brows until it smooths out.
Oscar makes a soft, pleased noise, nuzzling into your touch without waking, his lips parting slightly around a slow exhale.
The ceiling fan wobbles overhead, its rhythmic hum blending with Oscar’s snuffled breathing against your collarbone. You shift carefully, trying to dislodge his elbow from your diaphragm without waking him, but he only grumbles and tightens his grip, his knee slotting between yours like a puzzle piece.
His sock—still damp from the puddle incident—brushes your ankle, and you suppress a shudder.
The streetlight bleeds through the blinds in amber stripes, painting Oscar’s slack mouth gold where it’s pressed against your collarbone. His fingers twitch against your ribs—half-hearted, even in sleep—as if he’s still trying to keep you tethered.
You shift carefully, dislodging his knee from between yours, but he makes a soft, protesting noise and slings an arm over your waist, dragging you back.
“No,” he mumbles into your skin, his voice thick with sleep and tequila. His lips move clumsily against your shoulder, the words slurring into nonsense. “Mine.”
You huff but don’t fight it, letting his weight pin you to the couch. The clock ticks somewhere in the dark, each second punctuated by Oscar’s slow, whiskey-warm breaths.
His hair smells like party sweat and the cheap citrus shampoo he insists on buying, the scent familiar enough to make your chest ache.
Outside, a car door slams. Oscar flinches in his sleep, his grip tightening reflexively around your waist. “Shhh,” you murmur, thumbing the crease between his brows until he relaxes again.
His eyelashes flutter, casting shadows across his cheeks, but he doesn’t wake—just sighs and nuzzles closer, his nose bumping your jaw.
The ceiling fan wobbles overhead, its hum blending with Oscar’s snores. You shift carefully, trying to free your trapped arm, but he whines and digs his knee deeper into your thigh like a petulant starfish.
“Christ,” you mutter, resigned. His sock—still damp—brushes your ankle, and you grimace but don’t pull away.
The couch groans again as Oscar shifts, his elbow digging into your ribs with drunken precision. You huff, nudging him away, but he just sighs and flops his entire weight against you like a human weighted blanket—warm and impossibly heavy.
The streetlight outside flickers, casting gold stripes across his slack mouth where it’s pressed against your collarbone. His breath evens out, whiskey-sweet and steady, his fingers twitching against your hipbone even in sleep.
You blink up at the ceiling, fighting the pull of exhaustion, but the rhythm of Oscar’s breathing is contagious—slow and deep, each exhale a whisper against your skin.
His knee is still wedged between yours, an immovable barrier, and his sock—still damp—is somehow now tangled around your ankle like a drunken shackle. You should extricate yourself. You should. But the couch is softer than expected, and Oscar is a furnace, and—
Your fingers curl into his hoodie without meaning to, fisting the fabric as your eyelids grow heavy. The last thing you register is Oscar’s hum of approval, his nose nuzzling your jaw as he unconsciously pulls you closer.
The streetlight bleeds into gold streaks behind your closed eyes, and then—
💌Day 8 of #starry valentine: Free space! Figure Skating AU. You can blame the Olympics for this.
NEXT, CH5 ->
ALL CHAPTERS
(My Heart Is) In Your Hands - Gritty (Adjective) & Fragile (Adjective)
MASTERLIST, OC MASTERLIST, also on AO3!
Part of the #starry valentine event - see prompts here!
Word Count: 1k
Featuring: Oscar Piastri & Nina Reyes (OC) as pairs figure skaters, Lando Norris & Courtney Carter (OC) as ice dancers, minor mentions of the following - Domingo Reyes (OC) & Mark Webber as coaches (latter is a pairs coach and Mark used to be Oscar's singles coach), Zoey Valente (OC), Sofia Torres (OC), and Maria Estrada (OC) as singles skaters.
Tags/Warnings: Figure Skating AU. I changed their birthdates from what is 'canon' but I clarify how old they are in each part. Mentions of the media and its implications, past divorce, past abusive parent, general anxiety, emotional hurt/comfort I have quite limited knowledge of figure skating and though I have researched/asked friends I may still get things wrong, apologies!
Summary: During Worlds 2024, what Nina had been neglecting to tell Oscar and the rest of the team suddenly comes to light, forcing her to explain and confront it.
Notes: Yes I did research the schedule for Worlds 2024 so that I could know which discipline was on the rinks when lol I am DEDICATED. Sorry that this chapter is slightly late! I'm falling behind on writing the finale but it's worth the wait I promise <3 Enjoy
gritty (adjective): showing the courage and strength of mind to continue doing something difficult or unpleasant.
fragile (adjective): easily broken or damaged.
2023-2024 Season
The article dropped during their sixth season together.
Worlds. March 19th. Mere days before pairs were due to take the ice for their short program.
Her dad went into damage control immediately and said that Nina and Oscar wouldn't speak to the media. The rest of the team refused to answer any questions about it. Oscar hadn't talked to her about it. Nina refused to leave her room until their scheduled practice, only letting her dad in.
"I'm so sorry," he sighed next to her on her bed, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. "This…this shouldn't have happened, I shouldn't have-"
"It's okay." Nina didn't like sound like she meant that, but she couldn't change her tone. "It's mother. This is so typical."
"I'm sorry," her dad repeated. "I can talk to Mark, get him to talk to Oscar, and-"
"No, no, it's okay. I'll talk to him."
The key had been forced from her neck, anyway. There was no point in hiding.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes." She sat up and inhaled, letting her shoulders rise and fall and relax. In the place of her tense muscles she needed some confidence. "It's…long overdue, anyway. Oscar and the girls should've already known this, I just-…I was scared."
He pulled her into a hug with a hand around her shoulders; Nina let herself relax into it. "I know, I know. I'm sorry."
"Dad, it's okay." The best thing she could do to comfort him was to hug him back tighter. "You don't have to keep apologising."
"Okay, okay." He gave a small laugh and rubbed her shoulders. "But if you need anything…"
That pulled a smile from her. "Just shout and you'll be there?"
"Exactly. Always," he replied with a small smile of his own.
Nina took a deep breath, trying to slow down her thoughts. "How's Ali? Alex?"
"They're okay," he said with a heavy sigh. The implications of the article were hard to estimate, but they weren't inconsequential. It would take up most of the off-season. "We'll talk later. Discuss it as a family after Worlds."
They'd have to discuss what to do about the article. PR wise, legally (Nina was eighteen, after all, so any sort of defamation lawsuits were more complicated), all that stuff, but all that stuff was much less important than how her friends felt about her. As her dad left, she thought about how to breach the topic and miserably came up with nothing.
Nina walked to practice alone and hated every second. Oscar usually joined her but they hadn't even had breakfast together, hadn't shared a single word all day, so obviously she walked to the practice rink alone. This wasn't right. None of this was right. Even her phone was full of things that were wrong. Social media was not going to get any attention from her for several days, but her friends had reached out. Sofia, on behalf of the girls:
Sofia: Hey hun! I just wanted to let you know that we're all here for you
Sofia: I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell us more about your mother. You can reach out and we'll listen, I promise
Sofia: If you want to talk, we're here. Always, okay? Love you xx
Then there was Lando's:
Lando: hi, just checking in
Lando: im so sorry it dropped like this. she's an asshole
Lando: see you after practice, okay?
Lando: lmk if you need anything
Lando: and pls talk to oscar
Lando: love you
He would reiterate this with Courtney as backup as the ice dancers left the ice to let the pairs on with just a look and raised brows. Talk to him, they implored, and Nina had every intention to listen to them.
Oscar was right beside her and all they shared was the necessary: an 'are you okay?' from him and a plain lie from her. On the ice, it was just a focused practice session—clockwork, two cogs that fit perfectly and turned in sync, like machinery with a strong but sterile connection that only endured so long as there was a choreography to follow—and it was like that for all hours on the practice rink, then on the main rink, all of it. Oscar never brought it up, the only hint that he'd even heard about the article was him checking in before they took to the ice. His 'I've got you' prevailed despite it all, but the look was shaky and blurred as though Nina had strained the connection with the small betrayal, making it fragile.
And yet he insisted he had her, regardless of the massive secret that had been weighing her down.
Only when they were back at their accommodation, back in a private place away from anyone that could leak their conversation for their own gain, did Oscar breach the topic.
"Hey," he said gently but she flinched anyway, turning to face him so suddenly that he took a step back. To pretend she was comfortable, Nina took a seat on her bed. Tense as she'd been that morning, but unable to relax her shoulders. Oscar cleared his throat and continued, "We should probably-"
"Talk?" She squeaked, anxious and jittery as if her mother was watching. And she was, she knew when Worlds was, that's why she dropped the article. Maximum impact. "Yeah. Yeah, we should- we can-"
"Not if you're not ready." With an inhale, he stepped towards her and she froze so that she wouldn't move away. "Just…" He let the air out and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm here." His gaze was intense, staring right through her until he started pacing in the space between her bed and his. "And I'm sorry if I ever did or said anything that meant that you didn't trust me with that."
Nina flinched. He carried on.
"The kind of stuff she said- what happened, I-" His pacing was slow but erratic, stopping when he cut himself off and staring again when he found his words. "I've only heard rumours. I haven't read the interview."
"You haven't?"
"No." Finally, he settled. It was as though his thoughts had calmed and he had lined them all up as he sat on his bed, across from hers. The space between them felt like a chasm; he was trying his hardest to breach it. "I'd rather hear it from you, if you want to tell me."
"I do, I-…It's not because I don't trust you. I do. I just…" She sighed and interlaced her hands tightly as if they could hold her together, as if she needed to be held together. There wasn't any way to sugar coat how she felt, so she inhaled and met his eyes and bluntly murmured, "That's who I am. Where I come from. That horrible woman…I'm half her. And I was afraid that if you knew that…You'd hate me."
Oscar's face scrunched into confusion. "What?"
"I only exist to do figure skating." His eyebrows furrowed and implored Nina to continue, so she swallowed and elaborated. "Ali refused. Wanted to do something else. So…she had me. I obviously wasn't supposed to know, I just…I overheard her telling him off. Harshly. Yelling. Saying things I really don't want to repeat, but it was…basically how I was better because I was continuing the family legacy. So when our parents told us about Alex, I…" She hated that Oscar's expression was softening and morphing into pity, so she lowered her gaze and focused on her hands instead. "I panicked. Yelled about it because I was afraid I somehow wasn't good enough. That's- actually how dad found out and it was the catalyst for the divorce. I guess."
Her words had come out faster than she thought, a slightly crazed ramble that made her lungs beg for oxygen, so she took a couple deep breaths. Oscar didn't interrupt at any point and didn't reach out; Nina didn't even want to imagine what his expression looked like. Just thinking of the disgust that would settle on his expression when she continued made bile rise up her throat.
"Then I-…" This part was the worst. This was the part that might sever his trust in her forever. It tasted bitter in her mouth though it was the truth because not even years of therapy had completely undone the shame she felt for her choice. "I chose to stay with her after the divorce. I chose her over dad, all because I wanted to keep skating, because she told me dad wouldn't let me, and- it was all self interest. I was a selfish, and stupid, and-"
"You were a kid."
Her head lifted before she could stop it, forcing to meet his intense stare. All anxiety had nearly faded, however, because his argument simply wasn't good enough. "So?"
"Nina, you-" He cut himself off with an inhale, suppressing anger that wasn't meant for her. "Your mother manipulated you so you'd stay with her. And you were a kid. You couldn’t have known better."
"I could have," Nina replied desperately. "I could have trusted dad, or Ali, or just not cared so much about this damn sport that it made me choose my mother."
"They put you in an impossible position." His determination surprised her. His eyes were almost glowing and it was like he believed the fire behind them could convince her of his words. It couldn't. "Your mother didn't make it any easier by trying to convince you to stay with her."
"She didn't try," she spat with an anger meant only for her past self. "She succeeded. I gave in, I fell for it, I-…" but it burnt out as fast as it had appeared as she recalled she didn't deserve that anger, and her tone mellowed down to a pathetic mutter. "I was stupid."
Oscar shook his head. "You weren't."
"It's stupid." She ignored him. She had more to say, more shame to vent out. "I love doing this, I love skating, I love skating with you, but…every time I'm up on that podium I know the foundation of my skills is because of her. And I was afraid that if you knew who I come from-"
"That doesn't define you-"
Nina ignored him again. "You'd hate me. So I didn't tell you. And I'm sorry about that. It's not because I don't trust you. I trust you more than anyone, I just…I couldn't lose that. I don't want to lose you."
The words came out before she could swallow them back and she found a knot in her throat when she tried, threatening to spill over if she spoke any more. It startled her, so she quickly looked down and wiped her eyes before any tears could escape them. Shadows shift on the floor as Oscar stood and crouched in front of her, not touching her or saying anything but just meeting her eyes. Letting her know he was there for her wordlessly. She dropped her gaze to her lap, to her hands, but she felt his eyes on her still.
"You're not going to lose me," he murmured softly, though it was gritty and determined like it was a promise that could make it through everything. Finally, she believed him.
As if giving him permission to reach out, she disconnected her hands and lifted them towards him. His hands were in hers immediately, holding them tightly as if he'd noticed that they'd been holding themselves together and had decided to help. He kept his hands in hers as he sat next to her, still looking at her with a concern she could feel without meeting his eyes. Nina couldn't bring herself to just yet.
"That was all in the article?" He asked with a whisper, a little horror and disbelief in his words
"Oh. No." With an inhale, she forced her eyes to look at him, meeting the concern she knew she'd encounter. "The article was about the divorce and how I was on her side until dad manipulated me."
Those words didn't reassure him—his eyes widened. "Oh."
He had asked about the article. He hadn't asked for her life story.
Nina cringed with a wince. "Sorry. You- you didn't ask me to-"
"It's okay," he interrupted to reassure her quickly. "I'm…I'm glad you trusted me. And I'm sorry."
All she could offer was a nod. In turn, he offered his shoulder for her to rest on, and she gladly took it. Something about it was freeing. Nina had finally told him, and he was still here. He still trusted her. She hadn't lost him, and she exhaled as the weight of that possibility left her shoulders.
There were other weights on them, however.
The words just spilled out of her as if a dam had been opened and she just wanted to tell him everything. To trust him with everything. "It feels like I'm just pleasing her. Following her dreams."
"You're not following her dreams, you're following yours."
Nina lifted her head in shock. It wasn't the first time she'd heard that sentiment—it had certainly been suggested in therapy—and it wasn't going to sink in just because one more person had said it. Despite that, she couldn't ignore how perfectly the words landed and made her heart flutter. Oscar was speaking before she could even process.
"You're doing this in spite of her and everything she put you through."
Her heart hammered against her ribs and she couldn't chalk it up to anxiety anymore.
She didn't get a chance to reply. A small knock at the door interrupted them and made Nina stand up so quickly that she tripped on her own feet and would have fallen forward and onto Oscar's bed. Of course she didn't, though—Oscar had held her up like he always did, having stood up even faster to catch her.
I've got you, his eyes said when she eventually met them with a thank you.
"It's probably the girls," she said with a small smile as they untangled. "Is it okay if I-"
"Of course." His smile was cautious but bright, like he was ready to comfort her further if needed. "Can I-"
"Yes," she replied, ignoring her heart still hammering against her ribs. "You can stay."
Nina was right—it was the girls, along with Lando, all with various ranges of pity and concern in their eyes as they stood at the door. Handling it seemed like too much on her own, but as she let them in she saw Oscar and his comforting yet firm gaze from across the room and knew she wouldn't have to. She already knew what he was saying without even thinking about it.
Maybe he'd had her off-ice all along.
Thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! I'm definitely finishing this one before the Spider-man AU (that chapter 2 is barely planned I cannot lie) but hopefully I won't be late again!
Any and all interactions are very much appreciated!
Being Oscar Piastri’s race engineer was supposed to be professional. Unfortunately, that’s hard when your driver flirts with you over the team radio, the entire McLaren garage ships you, and the internet thinks you’re his girlfriend. pairing. Oscar Piastri x fem! engineer! reader. warnings. workplace romance, idiots in love, mutual pining lowk, teasing,humor & crack. based on this request; for my dearest @piestri 🫶🏻 hope you like it!
f1
f1 familiar faces arriving for the quali day! 👋🏻
❤️ liked by alexandramalenaleclerc and 1,1 M others
user1 the leclerc family 😍😍
user2 everyone arriving with their girlfriends and then there’s oscar arriving with his engineer 😭
⤷ user3 and it’s not for the first time too 👆🏻
user4 rebecca looks gorgeous omg
user5 cute couples and oscar and y/n 😭
⤷ user6 she probably knows more about him than a girlfriend would tbh
user7 why do oscar and y/n actually look like a couple though 💀
⤷ user8 FR!! i refuse to believe they’re just coworkers…
⤷ user9 this man spends 23 races a year listening to her orders of course they look like that
user10 admin is trying to tell us something…
yourusername
yourusername last slide is a jumpscare
❤️ liked by oscarpiastri and 223,3 K others
oscarpiastri pace slow today
⤷ yourusername driver slow today 💀
⤷ user11 LMAOOOOO
⤷ user12 are they flirting….
⤷ user13 probably…
user14 they argue like a married couple already😭
⤷ user15 no wonders when they work together since oscar’s rookie season
user16 iconic!! you’re such an inspiration 🥹🧡
user17 she absolutely chose that photo on purpose😭😭😭
⤷ user18 y/n: 1, oscar: 0
user19 i just know lando is gonna be the ambassador of this ship
user20 it’s lowkey giving siblings or dating😭
oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri starting p1 tomorrow (thanks to y/n for such a motivating message)
❤️ liked by yourusername and 1,3 M others
yourusername and u said the pace was slow.. 🙄
⤷ oscarpiastri sorry for doubting you
⤷ user21 i’m unwell
user22 he’s literally flexing that she thinks he’s the goat, I can’t breathe
⤷ user23 flexing with being praised by your engineer is crazy work
mclaren excellent work 👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻
user24 @/oscarpiastri @/yourusername you guys are already married in my head btw
user25 ok someone explain why I ship them so hard right now
⤷ user26 everyone does!! 😩😩
user27 if this isn’t a love story in the making i don’t know what is 😭
lando @/willjoseph why don’t you write this kind of messages for me
mclarenf1
mclarenf1 Our favorite ‘definitely not dating’ duo has just arrived into the paddock! 😏
❤️ liked by lando and 997,1 K others
user28 and ofc they arrived together 😭
user29 NO FREAKING WAY I THOUGHT THIS IS A FANPAGE 😭😭
user30 when the official team account joins the allegations 💀
⤷ user31 they really said: we see the chemistry too 😭
yourusername i feel violated….
⤷ mclarenf1 sorry girl you looked too good in the photo to not to post them 🥹
⤷ user32 admin is hilarious 😭
user33 i know the garage gossip must be INSANE
user34 when the TEAM starts joking about it you know it’s serious 😭
⤷ user35 the whole garage tease them all the time 100%
mclarenf1
mclarenf1 Congratulations to Oscar on the win! 🧡🏆 (We hope Y/n agreed to that dinner 👀)
❤️ liked by yourusername and 1,1 M others
user36 the hug is NOT giving “just coworkers” 😭
user37 EVEN MCLAREN IS SHIPPING THEM??? 😭😭😭
⤷ user38 i love this team oml
user39 i hope she said yes!!!
user40 ngl they’ve been lowkey together in our hearts since 2023
lando she said yes dw guys
⤷ user41 OMG LANDO CONFIRMED IT 😭😭😭 THIS IS NOT A DRILL
⤷ user42 THANK YOU LANDO
⤷ user43 I’M DEADDDD
⤷ user44 lmao they will skin him alive for exposing them like this😭😭
writers, you can and should be proud of your fic even if you personally are not satisfied with it. because even if you think it's "not good", you can be proud of the fact that you wrote it and it's something you created. you can be proud of the fact it's not ai.
repeat after me, it's something you put your soul and dedication in — and that's something ai could never achieve.
Paranoia @strawberryys-stuff - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
