#oscar x reader

[thequietkid-moonie]

⸺ Oscar Vessalius

⚘ A replacement for the one they used to love (Yandere)

✧˖°.☾ Main masterlist || Mixed masterlist ✧˖°.☾

[sasha-f1]

F1 x popstar [0P81]

Synopsis- oscars gf often gets hate for never posting him and she makes a song about it called honeybee.. (whoops wrong species)

A/n - this is roughly inspired from this fic-: ×××× but its still my own. Hope u like it.

___☆___

Honeybee

___☆___

@y/nsings

Caption- lately

Liked by @oscarpiastri, @gracieabrams and 4,287,100 others.*

@musicfan22: SHE'S SO PRETTY 😭😭

@ynupdates: mother has returned.

@sunflowergirl: the aesthetic omg 🌼

@popdaily: she's definitely teasing something...

@oscargirl44: okay... where's Oscar?

@papayafan: he posts her all the time and she never posts him 😭

@f1gossip: am i the only one who thinks that's kinda weird?

@beelover:that studio pic 👀👀

@ynnation: y'all realize this is HER account right??

@honeymilklatte: she's allowed to post herself 😭

@hatersclub:relationship feels one-sided.

@musicislife: not everything has to be about a boyfriend...

@oscardefender: still... it's been months.

@randomuser88: she's literally gorgeous.

@popculture: every time she posts the comments become an Oscar discussion 💀

@yn_sings: hi everyone 🤍 new music coming!

@musicfan22: SHE commented! 😭

@oscarpiastriupdates: Oscar liked within 12 seconds.

@papaya44: man is DOWN BAD.

^@ynnation: as he should be.

---

@oscarpiastri

Caption- home sweet home.

*Liked by @yn_sings, @landonorris and 5,913,442 others.*

Comments

@landonorris: disgusting.

@alex_albon: that's enough from you.

@charles_leclerc: ❤️❤️

@mclaren: 🧡

@f1: wholesome.

@papayafans: HE POSTS HER EVERY CHANCE HE GETS 😭

@musicfan22: the sheep picture is so cute 😭

@oscargirl44: see THIS is what i'm talking about.

@f1gossip: meanwhile she's posted exactly zero pictures of him.

@ynnation: maybe because she's not obligated to??

@papayaupdates: that hoodie is definitely his 😭

@randomfan: the sheep STOPPPP

@musicislife: they're adorable.

@hatersclub: one-sided relationship.

@oscardefender: nah, she's just private.

@ynupdates: now everyone can stop saying they broke up.

@randomuser18: until Y/N posts him herself... people will keep talking.

---

@yn_sings

Caption 🐝🍯🌼

*Liked by @oscarpiastri and 5,184,902 others.*

Comments

@musicfan22: WHAT DOES THIS MEANNNN

@ynupdates: ERA TEASE???

@popdaily: she's definitely cooking.

@graciefan: THE BEE HOUSE IS SO CUTE.

@sunflowergirl: yellow... honey... bees...

@lyricsnation: THAT BEE HELLO??

@papayafans: okay but where's Oscar 💀

@oscargirl44: she's really committed to never posting him huh.

@f1gossip: if they're dating why hide him??

@ynnation: because she's teasing MUSIC 😭

@musicislife: artists can post things that aren't relationships, believe it or not.

___

X (Twitter)

@ynupdates

> Y/N has liked over 50 fan edits with bee emojis in the last 24 hours... WHAT DOES SHE KNOW??

❤️ **97.3K Likes** • 🔁 **12.8K Reposts**

Replies

@musicfan22: she's feeding us CRUMBS.

@popculture: she's giggling somewhere.

@ynnation: she definitely knows exactly what she's doing.

@papayafan: watch it be a candle collection.

@beelover: don't joke about that.

@lyricslover: ALBUM.

@studioleaks: single first.

@randomuser: if this isn't music i'm suing.

@oscargirl: maybe it's Oscar related??

@f1gossip: impossible, she'd have to actually post him first.

@yn_defender: y'all have one joke.

---

@yn_sings

Caption- my little love letter. Called "honeybee" out friday! 🐝🤍

*Liked by @oscarpiastri, @gracieabrams, @mclaren and others.*

Comments

@musicfan22: HONEYBEE OH MY GOD

@popbase: NEW SINGLE ALERT.

@spotify: WE ARE READY.

@applemusic: see you friday 🐝

@ynupdates: SHE CALLED IT A LOVE LETTER???

@lyricsnation: I'M GOING TO CRY.

@papayafans: WAIT... LOVE LETTER TO WHO??

@oscargirl44: OSCAR??

@f1gossip: still won't post him though 😭

@ynnation: maybe... just maybe... you'll find out Friday??

@musicislife: THIS COVER IS BEAUTIFUL.

@gracieabrams: 💛💛💛

@landonorris: is this about bees?

@yn_sings: maybe.

@landonorris: helpful.

@oscarpiastri: ❤️🐝

@y/n_sings: thank u baby!

@musicfan22: OSCAR USED THE BEE EMOJI???

@papaya44: HOLD ON...

@randomfan: her reply is so cute

@hatersclub: still not convinced.

@musicfan22:** WE USED TO PRAY FOR TIMES LIKE THIS.

@lyricslover: "love letter" I'M SICK.

___

@yn_sings

Caption Honeybee. out now. 🤍🐝

*Liked by @oscarpiastri, @spotify, @applemusic and 11,487,920 others.*

Comments

@musicfan22: EVERYONE SHUT UP IT'S OUT

@spotify: currently on repeat. 💛

@applemusic: 🍯🐝

@ynupdates: I'M LISTENING RIGHT NOW

@lyricslover: I'M 30 SECONDS IN AND ALREADY SOBBING

@papayafans: IF THIS IS ABOUT OSCAR I'M GONNA LOSE MY MIND

@oscargirl44: HEADPHONES ARE ON.

@randomfan: SEE Y'ALL IN FOUR MINUTES.

@musicislife: GOODBYE WORLD.

@beelover: THE PRODUCTION IS SO PRETTY.

@hatersclub: let's see if it's actually worth the hype.

@ynnation: she literally never misses.

@gracieabrams: 💛😭

@landonorris: finally i can stop pretending i don't know the lyrics.

@y/n_sings: lando shhhh!

@papaya44: ????????

@musicfan22: LANDO?????????

@oscarpiastri: proud of you ❤️

@yn_sings: 🤍

@musicfan22: guys the lyrics!!

@popculture: oh this comment section is about to become unbearable.

@papayafans:** OSCAR.

@oscargirl44:** THAT IS 100% OSCAR.

@f1girlie: "baby boy" 😭😭😭

@randomfan: the cliches i knew are so common place when it comes to u! (Stop my heart)

@musicislife: THE WAY SHE SINGS IT 😭

@hatersclub: doesn't necessarily mean Oscar.

@ynnation: WHO ELSE WOULD IT BE??

@popculture: the paddock is never hearing the end of "baby boy. Honeybee"

@landonorrisfan: Lando is absolutely using this against Oscar.

@f1memes: imagine being called "baby boy" by a Grammy-winning pop star.

@papaya44:HE WON LIFE.

@LyricsDaily: "It's too hard to describe it in a way that feels honest..."

@lyricslover: SHE'S SUCH A WRITER.

@musicfan22: THIS LINE HURTS

@LyricsDaily: "But even when I'm quiet, I love you, baby, I promise."

@lyricslover:** I'M ACTUALLY SOBBING.

@papayafans: not her talking about the never posting him thing

@oscargirl44: OH MY GOD. When she said I hope I never see what your face looks like going. A face a I swear I could spend my whole knowing.

@musicislife: I love the one where she says "im not scared of the dark, I just reach and your there"

@popculture: everything i own feels like ours! Omg shes so amazing at song writing.

@mclaren: on repeat.

@papayafans: when she talks about the eveb when im quite- its ger litrally saying even if I dont post u and keep u private. I love u. Stopppp y/n ny goat!

@musicfan22: a face i could spend my whole life knowing!

@oscargirl44: yeah but why is everyone sleeping on the shooting stars, racing cars lyric 😭😭😭

@randomfan: MY PARENTS.

@hatersclub: actully! The racing cars is so obviously f1

@ynnation: be serious 😭

@f1memes: the song literally starts with "baby boy."

@papaya44: Oscar smiling at his phone listening to "God I love the way you look at me."

@landonorrisfan: but he dose look at her with heart eyes man!!!

@papaya44:oscar heart eyes piastri!!

@musicislife: THEY'RE SO CUTE.

___

@f1

Caption- BREAKING: A newly discovered species of wasp has officially been named after Oscar Piastri in recognition of his contributions to motorsport.

*Liked by @oscarpiastri, @mclaren and 4,902,141 others.*

Comments

@landonorris: so... not a honeybee then? **Liked by @oscarpiastri**

@alex_albon: science really ruined the lore 😭

@charles_leclerc: 😂😂

@mclaren: we're updating the emoji from 🐝 to... 🪰?

@papayafans: WAIT.

@oscargirl44: Y/N WROTE A WHOLE SONG—

@f1memes: "Baby boy, wasp" doesn't hit the same.

@randomfan: I'M CRYING.

@beelover: THIS IS THE FUNNIEST POSSIBLE TIMELINE.

@popculture: Imagine writing one of the sweetest love songs of the decade only for biology to interrupt.

@ynnation: LEAVE HER ALONE 😭

@hatersclub: someone tell Y/N.

@papaya44: she's deleting the song as we speak.

@musicislife: this feels like an inside joke the entire internet somehow got invited to.

@randomuser: science said well actually! 🤓

____

@yn_sings

Caption so... should i write a song called **Wasp?** 🪰🤍

*Liked by @oscarpiastri, @landonorris, @mclaren and 21,943,607 others.*

Comments

@oscarpiastri: absolutely not. **Liked by @yn_sings**

@yn_sings: too late. **Liked by @oscarpiastri**

@landonorris: I'LL PRODUCE IT.

@alex_albon: title track of the year.

@charles_leclerc: wa(s)p oscars version

@mclaren:HARD LAUNCH!! 🧡

@f1: we have been waiting.

@papayafans: why is charles lecrec making a wap joke.😭

@musicfan22: THE PADDOCK PHOTOS I'M SOBBING.

@oscargirl44: SHE FINALLY POSTED HIM.

@ynnation: and y'all spent MONTHS calling her a bad girlfriend...

@beelover: the sily oscar pictures are adorable

@lyricslover: "But even when I'm quiet, I love you baby, I promise." 😭

@musicislife: She never needed to prove anything to anyone!

___×___

F1 x popstar masterlist

Mainmasterlist

[sasha-f1]

Have finally finsihed drafting/editing free fall and the last three parts will come starting friday with chapter 8

After the free fall series do we want

u decide!!!

20 chapter oscar x agent series

10 chapter lando x max fretwells gf series?

Voting ended onJul 17

[sasha-f1]

Free fall [7]

Summary-: oscar and lia were one the last segment of the whole shoot.. just the two of them diving the coast as they were out in the ocean things went too far and now oscar was the world's biggest idiot

Warnings-: mentions of assault and drugs, open talk of insecurity, slight downward spiral for oscar [we love him suffering]

Chapter seven - "wish I could unrecall how we almost had it all"

The final day of the feature felt like a stay of execution.

Oscar stood on the shore of the secluded cove, his surfboard tucked under one arm. The crew had stayed back at the ridge to capture long-lens B-roll of the coastline, leaving only Oscar and Lia to venture into the water for the "active conservation" segment. It was just them. No mics, no lighting rigs, just the rhythmic pulse of the Ocean and the salt spray that felt like needles against his skin.

And a go pro for when they would dive in the reef to show that oscar was so one with the ocean

He watched Lia zip up her wetsuit, her movements familiar and efficient. She didn't look like a journalist today; she looked like the girl who used to challenge him to paddle-races until their lungs burned.

"Ready to get humbled, Piastri?" she asked, her voice light, though her eyes held a weight he couldn't quite name.

"In your dreams, Lia," he countered. The banter felt easier now, a rhythmic back-and-forth they had fallen into like they’d never been apart.

They paddled out in perfect synchronization. It was an unspoken language, a muscle memory that seven years of distance hadn't managed to erase. They moved through the break with the same timing, duck-diving under the turquoise rollers at the exact same second, emerging on the other side to shake the water from their eyes and grin at each other.

In the water, Oscar wasn't the man who had lost a world championship. He wasn't the "Iceboy" or the celebrity ambassador. He was just a guy in the surf with the only person who had ever truly known the rhythm of his heart.

"Look," Lia whispered, treading water as they reached the calmer swells. She pointed down through the crystalline surface.

A green sea turtle was gliding beneath them, its flippers moving like wings through the kelp forest. Oscar submerged, diving down without a second thought. He felt Lia right beside him. They swam in a silent, underwater ballet, hovering over the reef, their shadows mingling on the seabed. For a moment, the world of weddings and silver rings didn't exist. There was only the pressure of the sea and the shared breath they took when they broke the surface together.

They sat back on their boards, the boards drifting close enough that their leashes tangled for a second. Oscar reached down to untangle them, his fingers brushing the fiberglass near her feet.

"You're still slow on the takeoff," he joked, looking at her with a lopsided grin. "All that time in the bush has made you soft."

Lia splashed a handful of saltwater at his face, laughing. "I'm not slow, I'm 'methodical.' You're just a speed demon who doesn't know how to enjoy the scenery."

"I enjoy the scenery just fine," he said. He looked away then, staring out at the horizon where the blue of the water met the blue of the sky.

He didn't say what he was thinking. He didn't ask her about the lie or why she was marrying a man who had built a wall between them. He didn't tell her that he was set for life and ready to come home. He just sat there, the "Iceboy" mask firmly back in place, shoving every jagged feeling into the quietest part of his chest. He looked at her and saw a girl who was happy with her life, a girl who had moved on to a stable man in a stable house.

Lia sat beside him, her gaze fixed on the same horizon. She didn't say that her life felt like a house of cards. She didn't tell him she was terrified. She just balanced on her board, watching the light dance on the water.

They stayed there for a long time, two silhouettes against the vastness of the Ocean, perfectly in sync and miles apart.

The ocean was dead calm, the only sound the rhythmic slap of water against the fiberglass of their boards. The silence was safe, a familiar barrier they both knew how to maintain. But as the sun began to dip, casting long, bruised shadows over the swells, the weight of the last forty-eight hours finally crushed the "Iceboy" protocol.

Lia cleared her throat, her voice small against the vastness of the Indian Ocean. "You don't have to come, you know. To the wedding. If you don't want to."

Oscar didn’t move. He kept his eyes on the horizon. "Why would I not want to?"

"I know you and Logan fought," she said, her fingers tracing the wax on her board. "I know it’s... complicated."

"Well, we did too," Oscar countered, his voice rough. "You and me. We fought."

Lia let out a jagged breath. "We didn't fight, Oscar. We broke each other's hearts because I was insecure."

Oscar finally turned his head, his brow furrowed in genuine, sharp confusion. "Huh? What do you mean you were insecure? Insecure of what?"

Lia looked at him, her expression a mix of disbelief and mounting frustration. She was confused by his confusion. How could he not know? "Are you serious right now?" she squealed, a sound of pure, high-pitched exasperation that echoed off the water.

She buried her face in her hands for a second, then looked back at him, her eyes bright. "I thought the minute you left, you’d just find someone prettier. Someone better. Someone more mature and prepared for a global stage than some local girl from Melbourne. And then at the party... when I saw you with that girl... it was just everything I believed coming true. It was the proof."

A flicker of heat—real, unfiltered anger—flashed across Oscar’s face. He wasn't the calm F1 driver anymore; he was the boy who had been robbed of his own truth.

"Lia, I was shitfaced," he said, his voice rising. "I was distorted. I didn't even know who that girl was. The second she touched me, I pushed her back so hard she literally fell into the pool. It wasn't a 'goodbye kiss,' it was a disaster."

Lia froze. "What?"

"Dude, the whole thing got posted on a karting gossip channel back then," Oscar said, shaking his head in disbelief. "It was humiliating. Surely Logan told you? He saw the whole thing. He was standing right there when I crawled out of the crowd to find you."

Lia felt the world go silent. The water seemed to stop moving. A sad, jagged smile touched her lips as the last piece of the lie fell into place. "No," she whispered. "Logan was so mad about your fight... he let me believe you’d been kissing girls all night. He let me believe you were already gone."

Oscar’s jaw set so hard it looked like it might crack. The betrayal from Logan was a dull ache he’d lived with, but seeing the wreckage it had caused in Lia’s eyes made him want to burn the whole coast down. He took a long, steadying breath, shoving the rage down because there was something more important he had to say. Something he’d been holding for 2,555 days.

"Lia," he said, his voice dropping to a low, steady frequency. "I have not been with a woman in seven years."

She looked up at him, her breath hitching.

"There has been no one," he said, his gaze locked onto hers, refusing to let her look away. "No one after you."

The statement hung between their boards, heavier than the ocean itself. For seven years, he’d chased a championship to prove he was the best in the world. But sitting there, watching the realization shatter her expression, Oscar realized he’d just lost a race he didn't even know he was still running.

The sun was a dying ember on the horizon, turning the water into a sheet of bruised purple. The confession sat between them, heavy and raw, but instead of the soft moment Oscar had imagined for seven years, the air turned jagged.

Lia’s grip on her board tightened until her knuckles were white. "It’s getting late," she said, her voice brittle. "We should paddle back."

Oscar stared at her, stunned. "Are you serious? You’re just going to shut me out? After what I just told you?"

"What do you want me to say, Oscar?" she snapped, finally looking at him, her eyes flashing with a mix of panic and fury. "I’m getting married. To someone else. It’s not my fault you didn’t move on!"

"Oh, and you did?" Oscar countered, his voice rising over the sound of the swell.

"Yes! I’m marrying him!"

"You’re marrying a liar, Lia!"

She let out a harsh, dry scoff, shaking her head. "He was a teenager! We were all kids, Oscar! You can't hold a grudge over some high school drama when I have a whole life built with him."

"You’re going to regret this," Oscar said, "You don’t love him. Not like that."

"You don’t know anything about me!" Lia screamed back, the sound echoing across the empty water. "How do you know who I love? You haven't been here! You don't see my life!"

"I know that you don’t wear silver," Oscar said, his voice suddenly dropping to a low, lethal calm that stopped her breath.

Lia froze.

"I know that you like gold jewelry. I know that’s what looks good on you, that it matches your skin, so that’s all you ever wear. But your ring? Your ring is silver, Lia. I know that you think the best way to get something you want is through good food. I know you still have that anklet on. You haven’t taken it off for one second since we were twelve."

He leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers. "I know that you have three freckles scattered around your left inner thigh. I remember everything, Lia. I know you better than anyone. I know you better than he ever will."

Lia’s face went deathly pale. The intimacy of his words felt like a physical touch, stripping away every defense she had spent seven years building. She looked at him—really looked at him—and for a second, the reflection of the girl she used to be stared back.

Then, she snapped.

Without a word, she spun her board around, digging her arms into the water with a frantic, desperate strength. She didn't look back. She didn't check to see if he was following. She just paddled, her heart hammering against her ribs, trying to outrun the truth that was currently drowning her.

The drive back to the sanctuary was a vacuum of sound. Oscar kept his eyes fixed on the dark road, the steering wheel slick under his palms, while Lia sat pressed against the passenger door as if trying to merge with the glass. Every time the tires hit a bump and their shoulders brushed, she flinched.

It was the kind of silence that didn't just feel empty—it felt heavy, like they were both carrying the weight of the words he’d thrown at her in the water. Three freckles. Gold jewelry. I know you.

When they reached the camp, she was gone into the shadows of the cabins before the crew could even ask her for the footage of them diving

The next morning, the "stay of execution" was officially over.

Oscar stepped out of his cabin, the early Australian sun already biting at his neck. He had expected to see the crew packing up crates or Lia reviewing the final shots. Instead, he walked straight into a staged nightmare.

Logan was there.

He wasn't just there; he had seemingly annexed the entire communal area of the film site. He was leaning over a rustic wooden table, a set of floor plans and floral arrangement sketches spread out over the space where Oscar and Lia had shared their quiet, bantering lunch two days ago.

"No, I think the white lilies," Logan was saying, his voice loud and possessive in the morning air. He looked up, spotting Oscar, and flashed a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Hey, Oscar! Glad you’re up. Lia was just telling me how great the surf segment went."

Lia was standing right beside him. She looked exhausted, her eyes rimmed with red, but she was tucked firmly under Logan’s arm. Logan’s hand was draped over her shoulder, his fingers idly playing with the collar of her shirt—a casual, domestic gesture that screamed ownership.

"We’re just finalizing the seating chart," Logan continued,

Oscar felt a hot, prickly wave of humiliation crawl up his throat. He stood there in his team gear, the elite athlete, the world-famous driver, and he felt like a child being scolded. He saw the silver ring on Lia’s finger catching the light as she reached down to adjust a photo of a three-tiered cake.

She wouldn't look at him. Every time Oscar tried to catch her eye, she’d find a sudden interest in a swatch of lace or the font on a sample invitation.

"Lia said the surf was a bit rough yesterday," Logan said, his tone mocking. "I told her she should’ve stayed in. But you know how she is—stubborn. Always trying to prove she can keep up with the big boys."

He pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. Lia didn't pull away. She leaned into him, a move that felt less like affection and more like a desperate attempt to anchor herself to the lie she had chosen.

"I'll leave you to it," Oscar said, his voice flat, sounding like a stranger to his own ears.

"Don't be a stranger, mate!" Logan called out after him.

Oscar didn't answer. He kept walking toward the equipment truck, his chest tight. He had spent his whole life winning—finding the gap, taking the corner, coming out on top. But as he watched Logan whisper something in Lia’s ear that made her force a small, brittle laugh, Oscar realized he wasn't even in the race. He was just the audience, watching the crash happen in slow motion.

The drive back to his family home felt like a victory lap through a graveyard.

Oscar pulled his rental into the driveway, the engine ticking as it cooled in the humid afternoon air. For a world-class driver, he’d never felt more like he was idling in neutral. He stepped into the house—the house that was supposed to be his sanctuary—and headed straight for his bedroom, the one place where he didn't have to pretend he was okay with being the guest at his own heartbreak.

He stripped off the McLaren team polo, the bright papaya orange feeling like a neon sign for a life he suddenly didn't want. He threw it into the corner and collapsed onto his bed, staring at the ceiling fans as they whirred in a monotonous circle.

His chest felt tight, the skin on his palms still sensing the ghost of the water’s pressure from the day before.

“I know you better than anyone.”

The words he’d spat at her in the water felt less like a triumph now and more like a confession of his own stupidity. He had remembered the freckles, the jewelry, but he had forgotten the most important thing: Lia didn’t want to be known. Not by him. Not anymore.

The image of Logan’s hand on her shoulder—the casual, heavy ownership of it—was burned into the back of his eyelids. Logan knew he’d won. That smug grin hadn’t been about the wedding; it had been a victory lap over Oscar’s seven-year silence.

Oscar reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He looked at the lock screen—a generic photo of a racetrack—and felt a wave of pure, unadulterated sulkiness wash over him. He was one of the twenty best drivers in the world. He had millions in the bank. He had a career people would kill for.

And yet, he was sitting in his childhood bedroom, feeling like the same seventeen-year-old kid who was a nervous wreck

He rolled onto his side, his gaze landing on an old trophy on his bookshelf—a karting championship from years ago. He and Logan had shared that podium. He remembered the heat of the sun that day, the smell of burnt rubber, and the way Lia had jumped into his arms afterward, smelling of salt and sunscreen.

He’d gone to the other side of the world to make sure they’d never have to worry about money or security. He’d done everything "right." He had played the long game, and all it had gotten him was a front-row seat to her marrying a man who didn't even know she hated silver.

“Stupid,” he muttered into his pillow, his voice muffled and thick. “So incredibly stupid.”

He didn't want to go to the wedding. He didn't want to wear another suit and smile while Logan toasted to a future that should have been Oscar’s. He wanted to get on a plane and fly back to Woking, bury himself in telemetry data, and pretend that the girl with the gold anklet didn't exist.

But he knew he wouldn't. He’d show up. He’d wear the mask. Because if he didn't, he’d have to admit that he had lost the only race that actually mattered.

__×__

Feeefall masterlist

F1 masterlist

[athena63005]

TSITP AU HAS HIT 8K!!! I think i'm going to try and keep chapters to around 10k words in length (some may be longer but oh well more content for you all). I'm so excited to put this out I love all the characters sm rn they're like my little babiessss.

[sasha-f1]

Freefall masterlist

Oscar piastri hasn't only ever loved one girl his whole life and now he has to watch her marry his bestfrined

Lia never quite believed she was good enough and when the love of her life really drove that sentiment home. It left her broken in half ready to take whatever shallow excuse of love logan gave her

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Mainmasterlist

[sasha-f1]

FREE FALL [4]

___×___

Summary-: lia navigates her feelings fails miserably and dives head first into a work project that might just destroy her.

Warnings-: none

Chapter 4 "moving on from his is impossible when I still see it all in my head."

The walk back from the beach felt like navigating a minefield where the triggers were buried in the sand. Every time Lia looked at Logan, she saw the silver ring on her finger; every time she looked at the ocean, she saw Oscar’s shadowed eyes.

"Why would you do that?" Lia asked, her voice tight as she dusted the salt from her legs. "Inviting him? Logan, it’s... it’s weird. It’s unnecessary."

Logan didn't even slow his pace. He looked effortless, the golden boy of the coast, completely unbothered. "It seemed polite, Lia. We’re adults. We grew up together. What am I supposed to do, pretend the most famous guy in Australia doesn't live two doors down?"

"It’s just uncomfortable," she muttered, her heart doing a nervous stutter-step.

Logan stopped then, turning to face her. The sun was behind him, casting his face in shadow. "You’re acting like you can’t get married to me if he’s standing in the room," he said. His tone was casual, almost a joke, but the words sliced through her like a scalpel.

Guilt, hot and sickly, flooded her chest. Did he know? Did he see the way her breath hitched when Oscar spoke? Or was he just being Logan—confident, secure, and entirely unaware that a tiny sliver of her heart was still anchored to a boy who left seven years ago?

The fear of being found out made her snap. She needed to overcompensate. She needed to prove Oscar Piastri was nothing more than a ghost.

"Fine!" she threw her hands up, her voice rising in a fake display of exasperation. "Make him the best man for all I care! I’m just thinking about the seating charts, Logan. Don’t make it deeper than it is."

She marched ahead of him, her skin crawling. Inside, she was terrified. She had just handed over the keys to her own destruction to prove a point she didn't even believe.

___×___

And then she runs into him again, the bakery? Why of all days? Of all times?! Did he have to to pick the bakery.

She kept things simple polite. Trying to make it clear. "Its all in the past" he agreed. "We were so dramatic back then" she had said hoping he would agree like last time.. but- "it was love lia." He spoke.

God! The way he said her name sounded holy.. he had moaned it too the first time when they- no! She almost flicned but clenched her jaw hard to not make it obvious.

Everything after that was a blur.. she didnt rember any of it.

At night she stared at the ceeling

"It was love lia" he had said..

She rolled over to meet logan.. already asleep.. she grabbed his hand.. the rings shimmered.

Silver.

He didnt notice, he didnt care.

Why would he? She was not worth noticing.

Never enough.

She should be grateful shes getting someone safe who will commit to her.

But the rings silver.. the though kept nagging her.. "it was love, lia." The words echoed so much she felt them thru her spine..

she closed her eyes steadied her breathe.

"Sleep, sleep sleep" she begged wiling her brain to relax trying to picture a garden with mushrooms and green gass and measure her breathing. She begged sleep to come. Eventully it did.

__×__

The next morning, the sanctuary’s office was quiet, the only sound the distant chatter of kookaburras. Lia sat at her desk, staring at the glow of her laptop screen.

As a wildlife journalist, she’d been clawing her way up for years, trying to make a name for herself outside of "Logan Sargeant’s fiancée." Then, the email arrived.

Subject: Cover Feature - Piastri & The Outback Conservation Project

Lia, the board has approved the cover story. We’ve secured Oscar Piastri for an exclusive on his views regarding home, heritage, and wildlife conservation. Since you’re local and already on-site for the wedding break, you’re the only choice. This is the front-page piece for the summer issue. Don't miss this.

Lia felt the blood drain from her face.

She looked at her phone. She could call Logan. She could tell him, 'Hey, my job wants me to spend three days trailing your old best friend around the bush.' But she knew exactly how that would go. Logan would get possessive—not because he didn't trust her, but because he was Logan. He’d insist on coming along. He’d make it a "bro" thing. He’d feel bad that she was "forced" to work with her ex. Or worse, he’d see the look on her face when Oscar inevitably said something that reminded her of why she’d loved him.

She couldn't decline it. This was the career-defining piece she’d been waiting for. This was the front cover.

With a hand that shook only slightly, she typed: I’m on it. Send over the schedule.

She didn't tell Logan. She told herself it was "just work." She told herself that "nothing can hit a moving target," and if she stayed busy enough with her notebook and her camera, she wouldn't have to look Oscar in the eye.

But as she closed her laptop, Lia realized she wasn't just a moving target anymore.

She was walking right into the line of fire.

And this time, there were no sisters, no mothers, and no Logan to stand between them. Just her, a recorder, and the one person who knew exactly how to break her. And make her feel so incredibly alive at the same time.

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A/n -: this chapter is kinda small but! Not a filler! Its kinda my attempt at explaining lias thought process and why she is with logan and what she feels for oscar as well. Lmk ur thoughts and critiques (if any) praise is welcome too lol.. ❤️❤️

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FREEFALL [3]

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Summary- oscar tries to push it down, and ignore it! Forget lia! But he keep running into her.

Warning- none.

Chapter 3

"Its all ok, there ain't a drop of bad blood. Its all my love. You've got all my love."

__×__

The sun was too bright. It was that aggressive, unforgiving Australian sun that didn't just warm you—it exposed you.

Oscar stood in the surf, the water swirling around his ankles, tossing the ball back and forth with Mae.

On the surface, he was doing a great job of being "Home Oscar."

He laughed at Hattie’s jokes, he helped Eddie with the umbrella, and he didn't mention the championship once.

He shoved the memory of the silver trophy and the black asphalt of Abu Dhabi into a box and welded it shut.

But his family was being too careful. Every time he went quiet for more than ten seconds, he could feel his mum’s eyes on him, checking for cracks.

It was exhausting.

"Nice catch, Mae," he called out, his voice sounding thin to his own ears.

Then, the world tilted.

"Oh my god, guys! Pleasure seeing you here!"

Oscar’s hands went numb.

The ball hit his chest and dropped into the wet sand, but he didn't reach for it. He didn't have to look.

That voice was a frequency his brain was permanently tuned to, no matter how much static he tried to drown it out with.

"Oh, sweetheart! What are you doing in the Outback?" Nicole cried, scrambling up from her towel to pull the girl into a hug.

Oscar finally turned. The breath left him.

Lia looked like a localized sun.

She was wearing a yellow bikini that made her skin look like polished amber, her reddish-brown hair windswept and salt-crusted.

She looked healthy. She looked whole. And there, glinting against the tan of her ankle, was the gold anklet—

the one she’d worn since they were kids. It was the only thing that hadn't changed.

Because everything else had.

"Oh, me and Logan are both here," she said, her voice light, airy. "The shops here are so aesthetic—perfect for the wedding."

The wedding.

The words were a physical blow to his sternum. Oscar’s gaze dropped to her hand. Silver and diamonds. He felt a sharp, bitter flicker of confusion—she hates silver.

She’d told him once, years ago, that silver felt cold, that she only liked the warmth of gold. Apparently, Logan hadn't gotten the memo. Or maybe, in seven years, he’d turned her into a person who didn't mind the cold.

"Oh, hi Oscar! I didn't know you were in town!" She beamed at him. It was a polite, distant smile. The kind you give a cousin you haven't seen since a funeral.

Oscar forced his legs to move, stepping out of the water. He felt clumsy, his movements stiff and robotic.

He reached for a hug, but she leaned in at an angle, and it turned into an awkward, superficial side-hug that lasted a fraction of a second too long.

"Yeah, you know... good to reset at home sometimes," he managed. His voice was steady, a testament to years of post-race interviews where he had to lie about how much a loss hurt.

Then, Logan appeared.

He looked like a stranger wearing his best friend’s face. He was broader, more settled, his posture screaming of a man who owned the ground he stood on.

They hadn't spoken since that night in the backyard—no texts, no calls, just seven years of silence while they both climbed their respective ladders.

"Hey, mate." Oscar extended his hand. It felt like a surrender.

Logan shook it, his grip firm. "Congrats to you two, by the way," Oscar mumbled.

Logan’s hand snaked around Lia’s waist, pulling her flush against his side.

The possessiveness was effortless. It wasn't a challenge; it was a fact. Oscar wanted the tide to come in and just take him out to sea.

"Thanks, mate. You should come," Logan said, his eyes scanning Oscar’s face for a reaction. "Your mum’s invited anyway."

Oscar shot Nicole a look of pure, unadulterated betrayal.

She just offered a helpless, apologetic smile.

"Oh no, it’s okay love, you’re already letting me bring the girls as plus-ones... well, threes."

"No, we insist," Logan said, looking down at Lia. She nodded, her eyes crinkling in the sun.

"Do come, Osc—ar," she said.

The slip hit him harder than the wedding announcement. She’d almost called him Osc.

The nickname that used to be a secret language between them. She’d caught it just in time, correcting herself to the formal version, effectively building a wall of syllables between them.

"I'll try," he lied.

"And oh, uh, mate..." Logan patted him on the back, a gesture that felt patronizing even if it wasn't meant to be. "You've been doing amazing this season. You'll have your year. You'll be World Champion, I know it."

"Thanks, mate," Oscar said, his throat tightening. "You've done well yourself here. It's brilliant."

"Thanks. Good to chat. Better to leave stuff in the past, right?" Logan’s eyes lingered on Oscar’s for a second too long. He wasn't just talking about the fight. He was marking his territory. He was telling Oscar that Lia was "the past," and he was the "forever."

"Of course. Congrats again."

Oscar watched them walk away, their silhouettes blurring against the shimmering heat of the sand.

He sat back down on his towel, his chest feeling like it had been hollowed out with an ice cream scoop. He picked up the ball and tossed it to Mae, his movements mechanical.

The silence on the beach was deafening.

"So..." Nicole asked softly, tentatively.

Oscar stared at the horizon, at the endless blue that led back to the world he’d tried to conquer. "I guess we're going to the wedding," he said, his eyebrows twitching in a grimace that was supposed to be a smile.

__×__

Oscar lived by a new motto: stay in motion or die.

He spent the next three days becoming the most productive person in Melbourne.

He fixed the leaky faucet in the guest bathroom. He mowed the lawn twice. He took Eddie and Hattie for a grueling hike and then played a three-hour board game marathon with Mae without complaining once.

"Depression can’t hit a moving target," Lia used to say when they were seventeen and she was stressed about exams.

It was a stupid, catchy phrase that had stuck in the back of his brain like a splinter. He was moving now. He was a moving target. He was fine.

"Hey Mum, I’m going to pick up the cupcakes for Hattie," he called out, grabbing his keys.

"Do you want me to go, love?" Nicole asked, her eyes searching his face for that tell-tale tremor.

"I'm good, Mum. Really. It’s just cupcakes."

He cycled down to the local shops, the wind whipping through his hair, feeling almost normal. Until he stepped into the bakery. The smell of sugar and yeast usually made him hungry; today, it made him want to bolt.

Because there she was.

She was wearing a flowy skirt and a jersey top, looking effortlessly like the girl he’d spent seven years trying to forget.

Delicate gold jewelry shimmered at her throat and wrists—but that silver ring was still there, a cold, metallic intruder.

She was leaning over the counter, focused on a clipboard. "Yeah... I want raspberry coulis and dark chocolate," she said, her pen scratching against the paper. "For the tiers."

Oscar froze by the door. Raspberry and dark chocolate? She used to say raspberry tasted like medicine and dark chocolate was "too bitter for people who actually like joy."

"Congrats on your wedding," the cashier chirped, taking the sheet and disappearing into the back.

Lia turned to leave and ran straight into the wall of Oscar’s presence. "Oh! Hi!"

"Hi," he said. His voice was flat, the mask sliding into place out of pure necessity.

They stood there in the middle of the bakery, the silence stretching out, thick and suffocating. Lia shifted her weight, her fingers nervously twisting the silver band on her finger.

"Listen," she started, her voice cautious. "I hope you know there’s no bad blood between us. Truly."

"Yeah, no, of course," Oscar said, the lie burning his throat. "It’s in the past."

Lia let out a breath that sounded like a laugh, but there was no humor in it. "God, yes! We were such dramatic little kids, weren't we? Thinking it was this great, world-ending love and all that."

Oscar’s jaw tightened. He felt a sudden, sharp spike of heat in his chest—a mix of grief and an ego that had been bruised one too many times. Before he could stop it the words were out.

"It was love, Lia."

The air left her lungs in a visible flinch. Her eyes widened, searching his, her mouth falling open just a fraction.

For a second, the bakery and the wedding cake and Logan Sargeant didn't exist. There was just the weight of seven years and the truth he hadn't been allowed to say.

"Here you go, sir. Enjoy!" The cashier returned, sliding a box of pastel cupcakes across the counter.

"Thank you," Oscar said, his movements robotic as he tapped his card. He needed to leave, but his feet were lead. "Where are you staying in the Outback?"

"Two houses away from yours, actually," she said, her voice small, the "dramatic kids" bravado completely gone.

Two houses. He’d be able to see her lights from his porch. He’d probably hear the music from the reception if the wind blew the right way.

"That’s cool," he said, the sarcasm bone-dry. "When’s the wedding?"

"In a month. A little more, actually."

He nodded, staring at the cupcake box. He tried to bite his tongue. He tried to be the bigger person, the professional athlete, He lost.

"So... Logan, huh?" he asked, his voice low. "When did it start?"

Lia’s expression shifted, the vulnerability hardening into a defensive glare. "What’s it matter to you?"

"Nothing," Oscar said, holding up a hand. "Just curious. It’s a small world."

"After college," she said firmly.

The timeline hit him like a physical collapse. This wasn't a rebound. This wasn't a "he was there when you weren't" mistake. They had grown up, found each other again as adults, and chosen this. Logan hadn't just filled a gap; he had built a whole new life in the space Oscar had abandoned.

"That’s nice," Oscar said, his heart feeling like it was literally splintering into jagged pieces inside his ribs. "You seem happy."

Lia hesitated. She looked at the ring, then back at him. A small, soft smile touched her lips—the kind of smile she used to give him when they were dreaming about the future.

"I am," she said.

Oscar nodded, gripped the cupcake box until the cardboard groaned, and walked out into the blinding Australian sun. He got on his bike and started pedaling, faster and harder than he ever had in training.

He was a moving target. He was moving. But for the first time in his life, Oscar Piastri realized that no matter how fast he drove, he was never going to be fast enough to outrun the sound of his own heart breaking.

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A/n- if your enjoying this series.. plz like and comment means the world ♡