right where you’re supposed to be — oscar piastri x reader
requested!!
oscar’s been stressed about asking to propose because everything keeps going wrong. he genuinely thinks he might be cursed (nicole agrees) and after a torturous amount of planning you decide to ask him yourself.
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you had known something was going on for weeks. not because oscar had actually told you anything. if anything, he seemed determined to make sure you knew absolutely nothing, which would have been considerably more convincing if he wasn’t the worst liar you’d ever met.
oscar had always been easy to read. after spending enough time together, you’d learned all his little tells without even meaning to. the way his nose scrunched when he was trying not to laugh. the way he rubbed his thumb against his palm when he was nervous. the tiny crease between his eyebrows whenever he was thinking too hard about something. even the way he went suspiciously quiet whenever he was trying to keep a secret and lately, he’d been very quiet.
it started with his phone. normally, oscar had absolutely no problem leaving it somewhere and forgetting about it for hours. lately, though, whenever it buzzed, he’d snatch it up so quickly that you’d started wondering if he’d developed some sort of sixth sense for notifications.
you’d be sitting beside him on the sofa, your legs resting over his lap while you watched something together, and suddenly his phone would buzz.
oscar would look down, freeze, then look at you.
“what?” you’d ask.
“nothing.”
“you look guilty.”
“i don’t look guilty.”
you could only stare at him and he’d stare back, then he’d put his phone face-down on the coffee table.
“you’re weird.”
“i’m not.”
“you are.”
“okay.”
and that would be the end of it.
but instead it bloomed into something more.
he’d start leaving the room to take calls. the first time, you hadn’t thought much of it. we all need privacy in our life. but the second time, you’d raised an eyebrow.
the third time, he’d walked into the kitchen, looked at you sitting at the counter, immediately turned around, and walked back out.
you’d blinked. “did you just leave because i’m here?”
from the hallway came a very unconvincing, “no.”
“you literally did.”
“i forgot something.”
“what?”
silence. “…something.”
you’d laughed so hard that he’d eventually come back into the kitchen looking embarrassed.
“you’re terrible.”
“i’m not.”
“you’re really terrible.”
“i’m trying.”
he really was tryingvand you could tell. you just couldn’t figure out what exactly he was trying to do.
until the little bags started appearing.
the first one was a tiny paper bag tucked underneath his jacket when he came home one afternoon. you’d been curled up on the sofa, half watching television, when he walked through the door.
“hello”
“hey osc”
he took his shoes off making you look in his direction and you noticed the bag.
he noticed you looking at the bag an immediately moved the bag behind his back.
you slowly sat up. “what’s that?”
“nothing.”
“that’s a bag.”
“i know.”
“so there’s something in it.”
“not necessarily.”
you stared at him, did he think he was fooling you? “so you buy a bag full of nothing?”
he paused. “…yes.”
you couldn’t help but laugh. he sighed, walked over, and dropped down beside you. “don’t laugh.”
“i’m sorry.” but you absolutely weren’t.“you’re acting suspicious.”
“i’m not.”
“what’s in it?”
“i can’t tell you.”
“why?”
“because.”
“because why?”
“because i just can’t.”
you watched him carefully.bhis cheeks had gone slightly pink.byou leaned closer “are you planning something?”
his eyes flicked toward yours quickly. too quickly. “no.” far too quickly.
you smiled.?“okay.”
“okay?”
“yeah.”
“you believe me?”
“of course.”
the relief that crossed his face was almost painful. you bit your lip to keep from laughing. “you’re adorable.”
“i don’t think that’s what i’m going for.”
“i know.”
you’d left it alone after that because you had a feeling. you weren’t completely certain, but there was something about the way he’d been behaving that made your stomach flutter whenever you thought about it for too long.
oscar had always talked about marriage with you. not in a serious, scheduled, this is exactly when we’re doing this kind of way.
it was little things like passing a jewellery shop and him casually saying, “you’d look nice with that.”
you’d tease him. “are you saying i need a ring?”
and he’d shrug, pretending he hadn’t said anything at all. “just saying.”
or you’d be lying in bed late at night, neither of you particularly tired, talking about absolutely nothing. “if we got married,” you’d say once, just to annoy him, “i’d probably keep my surname.”
oscar would hum thoughtfully. “i could take yours.”
you’d turn your head. “you’d take mine?”
“why not?”
“your entire family would probably kill you.”
“i don’t think so.”
you’d laugh. “you’d really do it?”
he’d look at you with that soft little smile he got when he wasn’t joking. “yeah.” then he’d pull you closer and change the subject.
you’d always assumed those conversations were just conversations. until lately, they felt different especially because oscar had started bringing them up himself. you’d been brushing your teeth one night when he’d leaned against the bathroom doorway, watching you through the mirror. “what?”
“nothing.”
“you’re looking into my soul.”
“i like looking at you.”
you’d smiled around your toothbrush.“you’re being weird again.”
“i’m not.”
“you are.”
he’d gone quiet then, almost absentmindedly, he’d said, “would you actually take my last name?”
you’d stopped brushing. “where did that come from?”
he’d shrugged. “just wondering.”
“maybe.”
“maybe?”
“maybe i’d hyphenate.”
he’d nodded thoughtfully. “i’d take yours.”
you’d laughed. “you keep saying that.”
“because i mean it.”
there had been something about the way he’d said it.
something that made your chest feel warm. you hadn’t pushed him. you’d just smiled at him through the mirror. “as long as we are together, we’ll figure it out.”
“yeah.” he’d smiled. “we will.” then he’d kissed your cheek and walked away.
you’d watched him disappear down the hallway and the suspicion had grown even more.
the real giveaway happened on the sofa. it was late, and you’d both settled under the same blanket after dinner. oscar had one arm tucked behind his head while you were lying against his side, your phone in your hand as you scrolled aimlessly.
the television was playing quietly in the background but neither of you were really watching. oscar had been unusually restless. he kept shifting and sighing causing you to look up “what’s wrong?”
“nothing.”
“you’ve sighed about seventeen times.”
“have i?”
“yes.”
“i didn’t notice.”
you smiled and went back to your phone. a few minutes passed and then you heard it, quietly at first. oscar was humming. you didn’t recognize the tune immediately, but you recognized the words when he mumbled them under his breath. “going to the chapel…”
your thumb stopped moving. you slowly turned your head. oscar continued.
“and we’re gonna get married…”
he sounded nervous in a way like someone had just told him he had to stand in front of an audience and give a speech he’d forgotten to prepare.
you stared at him and he stopped humming immediately. “huh?”
“were you just humming a wedding song?”
“no.”
“you were.”
“wasn’t.”
“you literally were.”
“must’ve been the television.”
you looked toward the television.
the characters on screen were having a completely silent conversation. you looked back at him. oscar followed your gaze. “…right.” you started laughing.
he buried his face in his hands. “don’t.”
“i’m sorry.”
“you’re laughing.”
“because you’re being suspicious.”
“i’m not suspicious.”
“you just hummed a wedding song and blamed the television.”
“i panicked.”
“i can tell.”
he dropped his hands and looked at you. you could only smile softly. “are you stressed?”
“no.”
“but you are.”
“i’m fine.”
“oscar.”
“i’m fine.”
you reached over and gently poked his cheek. “you’re a terrible liar.”
he caught your hand and held it against his face. “i know.”
there was something so fond in his expression that you almost felt guilty.
but the key word was almost.
because whatever he was doing, whatever he was planning, he clearly wanted it to be special and that was what mattered.
the problem was that apparently the universe had decided oscar did not deserve a smooth experience. everything went wrong, even the small details!
the restaurant he’d apparently been considering suddenly announced that it would be closed for renovations, the flowers he’d arranged were delivered to the wrong address, one of his friends nearly let something slip during a phone call and another friend apparently thought oscar was asking for advice about an anniversary rather than a proposal and sent him a ten-minute voice message about “how to make it romantic without being cringe.” oscar listened to the entire thing then apparently sat in silence for five minutes afterward.
his mum, nicole, got involved eventually and when he turned up at her house one afternoon, she took one look at him and immediately knew something was wrong.“you look exhausted.”
“i’m fine.”
“you’ve been planning this for months.”
he stared at her. “how do you know?”
she gave him the most unimpressed look imaginable. “because i’m your mother.”
he sighed and sat down. “everything keeps going wrong.”
“what everything?”
“everything.” he started counting on his fingers. “the place isn’t available anymore. the flowers were sent somewhere else. the photographer-“
“photographer?”
“nothing.”
his mum raised an eyebrow. “right.”
oscar rubbed his face. “i just wanted it to be perfect.”
she softened. “for her?”
“obviously.”
“she’s going to love it.”
“what if she doesn’t?”
“she loves you.”
“i know.”
“then she’ll love it.”
he looked down at his hands. “i just want to give her something she deserves.”
his mum smiled. “you already are.”
oscar didn’t look convinced. “i don’t think you understand.”
“i understand perfectly, oscar.” she reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “you’ve been planning this for ages. you’ve thought about every possible detail. maybe you should stop trying to control every single thing.”
he looked at her. “that’s not very helpful.”
“it’s very helpful.”
“it’s not.”
“you’re cursed.”
oscar blinked. “what?”
“everything keeps going wrong. maybe you’ve been cursed.”
he stared at her, his mouth slightly ajar.
she shrugged. “i’m just saying.”
“thanks mum..”
“you’re welcome.”
despite everything, he laughed because that was the thing, he was stressed, yes but underneath it all, he was happy. he just didn’t know how to let himself enjoy it yet.
you could tell. you saw it every time he looked at you. the little smile that appeared whenever you weren’t looking, the way his fingers would unconsciously brush over the pocket where the ring was hidden, the way he’d stare at you for a few seconds too long and then quickly look away whenever you caught him and eventually, you decided enough was enough.
you weren’t going to let him drive himself insane over something that was supposed to make him happy.
so one morning, you woke up before him.
the bedroom was quiet, the curtains only letting in thin strips of pale morning light.
oscar was still asleep beside you, completely unaware of your plan. his hair was a mess, one arm was stretched across your side of the bed, like he’d been searching for you in his sleep.
you smiled and carefully, you slipped out from underneath his arm.
when he stirred, you froze.
“where are you going?” he mumbled.
“nowhere.”
“come back.”
you smiled. “i’m getting breakfast.”
one eye opened. “why?”
“because i want to.”
“okay.” he closed his eye again.
you quietly left the room and when you came back, oscar was awake. he was sitting against the headboard, hair sticking up in every direction, blinking sleepily at you then he noticed the tray.
his eyebrows lifted. “what’s that?”
“breakfast.”
“for me?”
“no, oscar. i’m going to eat it all myself.”
he gave you a sleepy little smile. “very funny.”
you climbed onto the bed and placed the tray across his lap. he looked at everything you’d made then at you. “you didn’t have to do this.”
“i wanted to.”
his expression softened. “thank you y/n.”
you leaned over and kissed his cheek. “you’re welcome.”
for a while, it was just the two of you eating in bed. oscar was still half asleep, so he wasn’t talking much but every now and then, you’d catch him looking at you.
“osc?”
“nothing.”
“you’re doing it again.”
“doing what?”
“staring into my soul.”
he smiled. “i just can’t help it.”
you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop smiling either.
once you’d both finished, you carefully lifted the tray away and placed it on the bedside table. oscar watched you and softly whined. “come back”
you didn’t answer and instead, you turned back toward him and climbed onto his lap.
his hands immediately found your waist. his eyebrows lifted slightly. “hi.”
“hi.”
“you’re very close.”
“i know.”
he smiled. you reached up, pushed his messy hair away from his forehead and simply looked at him. really looked at him.
his sleepy eyes, his little smile, the faint crease between his eyebrows that had been there for weeks. you brushed your thumb over it. “you’ve been stressed.”
his smile faded slightly. “yeah.”
“you don’t have to be.”
“i know.”
“i don’t think you do.”
he sighed, his hands gently rubbing your sides. “i just wanted everything to be right.”
your heart softened. “i know.”
he looked at you. “you do?”
you nodded. “you’re not subtle.”
he groaned quietly. “oh god.”
you laughed. “i’m serious.”
“i’ve ruined it.”
“you haven’t ruined anything.”
“i was supposed to surprise you.”
“you still can.”
“but you know.”
“i know.”
he stared at you. “that’s not how surprises work.”
“maybe not.” you smiled then your fingers slipped into his hair again. “but i know you.” his expression softened and you leaned closer. “i love you because you’re kind.” he swallowed.
“i love how much you care about people. i love that you remember tiny things i’ve said months ago. i love that you notice when i’m tired even when i insist i’m fine. i love that you always make space for me, no matter how busy you are.”
his hands went still against your waist.
“i love that you make me laugh when i don’t even realize i need to laugh.” you smiled, continuing your little speech. “i love your stupid little habits. i love how you get completely invested in things you pretend you don’t care about. i love the way you get excited and then try to act like you aren’t excited.”
he laughed quietly. “i don’t do that.”
“you absolutely do.” you leaned your forehead against his. “and i love that you care so much about getting this right.”
his eyes softened.
“even when you stress yourself out so much that you start humming wedding songs and blaming the television.”
he laughed, hiding his face briefly against your shoulder. “you’re never gonna stop bringing that up huh?.”
“never.” you kissed his temple then you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. “but most importantly, i love you.”
you could feel his breathing against you. your thumb brushed gently across his cheek. “so…” you smiled. “will you marry me?”
for a moment, oscar just stared but after his entire body seemed to relax at once, his shoulders dropped, his eyes closed and the most enormous sigh left him. “yes.. yes y/n ofcourse i want to.”
you laughed softly.
he opened his eyes again, another sigh. “thank god.”
your eyebrows furrowed. “thank god?”
“you have no idea.” he dropped his head back against the headboard. “i’ve been trying to do this for months.”
“i know.”
his head snapped back toward you. “wait.”
you smiled innocently. “what?”
“you knew knew?”
“kind of.”
“how?”
“you’re a terrible liar and i know you so well baby.”
he groaned. “i tried.”
“i know.”
“i really tried.”
“you hid bags behind your back.”
“they had important things in them.”
“you took phone calls in the bathroom.”
“private conversations.”
“you hummed a wedding song.”
“that was an accident.”
“and then blamed the television.”
he covered his face. “i panicked.”
you laughed so hard that you nearly fell backward. oscar caught you around the waist, pulling you chest against him. “stop laughing.. i was seriously worried about this!”
“i can’t though.”
“you’re mean.”
“you love me.”
“even though you may kill me.”
you gasped dramatically. “kill you?”
he immediately started laughing. “i’m joking.”
“too late.”
“come here.” he pulled you closer and pressed a kiss to your cheek, then another and another. you giggled as he continued, seemingly unable to stop himself.
“one for every month i spent stressing.”
“that’s a lot of kisses.”
“exactly.” his lips brushed your forehead, your nose, your cheek and he smiled against your skin. “you always know what i need.”
you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “i had to do something before it triggered a breakdown or something.”
he laughed. “and i love you for that.”
you rested your forehead against his. “so… you still have a ring?”
he hesitated. “…yes.”
your eyes widened. “you actually bought one?”
“yes y/n, months ago.”
“where is it?”
“not telling you.”
“why?”
“because i’m still going to propose.”
you stared at him. “but i just did.”
“i know but i’m doing it again because i spent a lot of time on this.”
“then do it.”
he smiled. “not right now.”
“why?”
“because you’re sitting on me and i haven’t even brushed my teeth.”
you pouted. “it’s romantic!”
“very.” he kissed your forehead again. “but i’ll do it properly.”
you smiled. “you don’t have to.”
“i want to.”
“you really don’t.”
“i do.” his thumb brushed over your cheek.“because you’ve already done something for me.”
“what?”
“you made it easy.”
you smiled. “good.”
he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours again. “i love you.”
“i love you too. my fiancee.”
for the first time in weeks, oscar looked completely relaxed.
there was no more secret phone calls or suspicious bags. no needed frantic planning or terrible lies.
just you, his soon-to-be-wife, and him with the morning sunlight, and the quiet certainty that somehow, despite every single thing going wrong, you’d ended up exactly where you were supposed to be.
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