#pibber

[celineile]

[wisteriagoesvroom]

close enough

🖤 a short oscmark oneshot, set in noosa ✍🏼 1.9k words, rated t/m 🗒️ can be read with part one, or as a standalone 🌀 mind the tags 🔗 read on ao3

preview:

Oscar has been in Mark’s main residence many times on official business. He knows the rooms of Mark’s home well enough. The easy familiarity of dodging the one stair Mark hasn’t gotten round to repairing, the determined squeak of the tap in the guest bathroom when he brushes his teeth because Mark’s already told him that thing is prone to get stuck. Habits so ingrained that he knows not to give the dogs their toys past eight thirty P.M. lest they get too excited. Noosa, though. That’s new.

thanks as well @oopslandiia for the prompt word, "deal"

[antimonyandthyme]

mark i only knew i wasn’t good enough to win championships when i met oscar webber watching his boy on the podium… pride and joy on his face like it was his own win… hrmmmmmmmmmm

[sigmalonso]

untitled oscarmark drabble

tags: 🔞 explicit content, bondage, age difference

notes: i'm one of the freaks. also, i don't know the pairing name

The silence was broken by a click of a door opening, followed by a series of footsteps across the carpeted floor that sent all blood rushing down. Oscar tried to lift his head despite the ache in his neck, muscles straining with the effort to track any movement that happened near him.

It was futile; the cloth that covered his eyes was thick enough to block his vision and all Oscar could do was depend on his hearing for any sign, any, to ease his erratic heartbeat. His wrists had started to ache; the rope burnt against his skin, partly from the many times Oscar tugged on them to test their strength. The knot was simple enough, Mark had said, that it could be undone in several minutes. Now, Oscar knew Mark could be a God damned liar.

“Enjoying your time, pup?” A velvety voice spoke right next to his ear, causing Oscar to twitch in surprise. His movement was suspended by the rope tying his arms and legs to the bedposts.

“I wish,” Oscar bit back, forcing himself to sound haughty even when his voice shook. “Is this your idea of fun? I’d rather sleep.”

Mark laughed at that. A firm hand closed around his straining cock, drawing out a squeak from Oscar. “I haven’t started yet, pup.” Cold liquid dripped onto his prick and Oscar hissed at the sensation, wriggling under Mark’s touch. Despite the firmness in Mark’s voice, Oscar felt bristles grazing his hairline and a soft brush of lips against his forehead, and he couldn’t help but melt a little into the gesture, leaning into Mark.

When Mark spoke again, his voice was fond, amused. “You’re looking for fun? I’ll show you fun, pup.”

[omgplants]

This is Pibber, or Mr. Pib. Everyone loves Mr. Pib. So smol, so nice. He is impossible to take pictures of. He is a very busy boy.

[celineile]

[fic by the devastatingly talented @vroombeams]

It’s not something he should have to think about. Mark shouldn’t have to fret over what exactly Oscar’s going to ask him for, pulling him to the back of the garage where there’s no one and nothing to watch. He shouldn’t have to worry about this, but he knows he’s the one who’s gotten himself here.

Oscar, shoulders squared, fists curled loose but resolute at his sides. He’s smiling up at Mark and it’s not shy but it’s not particularly smirky, either. A familiar determination.

“What can I do for ya,” Mark says, like he doesn’t know. Oscar’s eyes narrow. He licks his bottom lip, sucks it into his mouth. Mark can’t be expected to think about anything but doing that himself. About Oscar’s soft lips, how they might give under Mark’s teeth.

“S’almost break,” Oscar says, casual. “Won’t be seeing you as much.” He looks a bit strained about it, behind his brittle little shield of confidence.

“For, what, two weeks?” Mark won’t say it but he’s been thinking about it too. He doesn’t like Oscar gone too far from him for too long. Two weeks on two separate continents shouldn’t be as much of a problem as he’s making it.

“Two weeks is a while,” Oscar says. A car outside on the track gets closer, zips by. The doppler effect of it feels somehow physical. Mark sways back as it hits. Oscar sways forward. And at first Mark thinks he’s overbalanced, stepping into Mark’s space and catching himself on Mark’s chest with both hands.

But—no. Oscar never does anything without intention, does he?

Oscar’s got one hand spread wide over Mark’s side and with the other he’s caught him by his lanyard. Not pulling him down just yet but holding him in place, blinking up at him so slow and doe-eyed it’s near hypnotic. Mark’s eyes slide out of focus with Oscar up so close. The blur of his eyes, the smudge of his pink mouth. Mark gets a hand around Oscar’s wrist.

Push back, Mark thinks. Say no.

Oscar tugs at the lanyard. He’s stopped smiling. His eyes have slipped shut and his lips are soft and puckered and he looks fucking cherubic, so innocent and wanting in the wash of the sunset. Something perfect, something ripe, something ready to spoil.

Mark’s grip slides to Oscar’s elbow and he holds him there. Mark pushes him backward, gentle. Oscar’s good at covering up expressions. He’s good at never showing his hand. Now he looks—devastated, maybe. Fragile. A glass figure of a fucking fawn that Mark’s just knocked off a shelf.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

gonna go far

🍊 an oscarmark fic ❗so, the mentor/mentee dynamic... in this essay i will– 🖋️ 1.7k words, rated T/M 🔗 read on ao3

preview

Mark pulls the door shut. The light is always bright in here, harsher. Oscar’s teammate seems to like the dimmer, but Oscar barely adjusts anything. The driver in question sits on the floor, with his back against the rectangular sofa. Elbows on his knees, hands wrapped around his third place trophy, copper against the orange of the race suit still tied at his waist. Oscar’s face is downturned, obscured by a team cap. Mark cannot see his eyes.

[antimonyandthyme]

everyone is on the oscar red bull champion hype train, but i also think there is so much angsty markoscar narrative potential with oscar being stuck as a perpetual second driver, the horrors of mark pov realising he is failing his protege the same way he failed himself, oscar does go to red bull but only to end up being second driver again, like red bull webber was, i need more fics that explore oscar dealing with failure, how much losing this cool little guy can take and swallow before it all bursts out, before his facade crumbles, oscar finally having a complete breakdown in front of his mentor, mark's heart shattering in thousands of tiniest little bits... there are things to explore there and i hope someone will deliver one day, bc i myself cant write for shit

anon why would you say you can’t write for shit when you came into my inbox with a sledgehammer like this