Hiii, can I please ask for some Oscar content. Maybe something about him being unable to race in Australia or something like this
Comfort
Imagine comforting Oscar after a not-so-good start of the new season
The Australian sun was hidden behind some clouds in the sky. The first race of the 2026 season had started, engines screaming, fans cheering, but Yn couldn’t hear much of it. Her eyes were glued to the screen showing the warm-up lap, heart hammering in her chest.
Oscar was out there, on his home turf, looking calm and focused. She’d watched him since he joined F2, dreaming of racing, and now he was here, on the grid he had grown up watching. She waved, hoping he could see her, and for a brief moment, he caught her gaze and gave her a little nod and a grin under his helmet.
And then, in the blink of an eye, it all went wrong.
Yn saw him slow, veering slightly during the warm-up lap. The car pulled off, smoke curling faintly from somewhere she couldn’t see. The warm-up lap ended in disappointment before the race had even begun.
“No, no, no…” she whispered, her stomach dropping. She could barely breathe.
The broadcast replay confirmed it. Something was wrong. She didn’t need to know what, but she could see the defeat in his body language. His hand tightened on the wheel, head shaking, and then he climbed out.
Yn didn’t wait. She pushed past team members and photographers, her legs moving faster than her brain, straight to the drivers’ room. Her heart was a storm of fear and worry.
When the door opened, there he was. Oscar, helmet in one hand, shoulders slumped, eyes dark and heavy. The second he saw her, it was like he had no choice. He dropped the helmet, took a shaky step forward, and wrapped his arms around her.
Yn let herself melt into him, pressing her face against his chest. “Oh, Oscar…” she murmured, her hands clutching at his shirt.
“I…” His voice cracked. “I didn’t even get to start… at home…”
She rubbed his back gently. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. The car… the race… none of that changes who you are.”
“But I wanted… I wanted this so badly,” he said, the frustration bleeding into his words. “My home race… I wanted to do this for everyone, for me… and for you.”
“You already did,” she said softly, tilting her head to kiss his cheek. “Just being here. Just being you. That’s enough.”
He rested his forehead against hers, holding her closer, one hand threading into her hair. “I should be angry… upset… but right now, being with you… it’s the only thing that makes me feel okay.”
Yn pressed her lips to his temple. “Then that’s all that matters. Forget the track for a minute. Forget everything outside this room. You’re here, I’m here, and that’s what counts.”
He sighed, heavy with the weight of disappointment and exhaustion. “I feel like I’ve failed everyone. And I hate it. I wanted this race to feel perfect… and I didn’t even make it to the first lap.”
“You haven’t failed,” she said firmly. “Sometimes things happen that aren’t in your control. It doesn’t make you any less amazing. You’re still the guy who chased his dream and made it to the top. And you’re still the person I love.”
A small, humorless laugh escaped him. Then, after a moment, a real smile broke through, tiny but there. “Only you could make me feel like a hero after… after this.”
“That’s because I love you,” Yn said simply, brushing her hand over his cheek. “Completely. Unconditionally. And I always will, no matter what happens on the track.”
He hugged her again, tighter this time, letting the tension slowly drain from his body. “Being able to hold you like this… it’s the best comfort I could ever ask for.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered.
“God, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he murmured, voice muffled against her hair.
“You’ll never have to find out,” she said, smiling despite the tears she felt threatening. “I’m here. Always.”
They stayed like that, letting the world outside fade into a background hum. Yn could feel him breathing easier now, feeling grounded by her presence.
“You wanted to make the fans happy,” she said softly. “I get that. But you’re already giving people joy. Just by being you, by trying, by being here… and, honestly, by letting me hug you when you need it most.”
He laughed softly, the sound a mix of exhaustion and relief. “I guess… this counts as my podium, huh?”
“Yes,” Yn said, laughing lightly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his forehead. “Gold medal. Best hug award.”
He smiled, resting his head on her shoulder. “I swear… you’re incredible.”
“Only for you,” she replied, leaning her forehead against his. “Nothing else matters right now.”
For a while, they didn’t need to say anything. The quiet between them was comfortable, warm. Yn felt him relax under her touch, the tension in his muscles softening. She could feel his heartbeat slow, hear the faint exhale of relief.
“You know,” he said finally, “I should be beating myself up… angry… sad… all the things I’m supposed to feel. But honestly? Right now, holding you… I feel like maybe this is enough. This is better than any race result.”
“You’re allowed to feel whatever you need,” she said softly. “And I’m allowed to remind you that I love you. No matter what. Always.”
He buried his face against her neck again, sighing, and she held him tighter. “You’re my best luck charm,” he murmured.
“No,” she whispered, smiling into his chest. “You’re my hero. And I’m your shoulder, remember? Always here.”
The minutes stretched, soft and quiet, until he finally pulled back just enough to look at her. “I think… I think I needed this more than I realized,” he said.
“I think you did too,” she said. “Come on, let’s just stay here a little longer.”
He nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, letting the world fade out. Outside, the race continued. Cars tore past the empty starting line where Oscar should have been. Fans cheered, oblivious to the quiet drama of his first home race gone wrong.
But in that small room, in that single, unbroken moment, Yn and Oscar had their victory. Not on the track, not in front of thousands of screaming fans, but right there—in each other’s arms.
“You know,” he said softly after a long pause, “next time, I’ll get it right. I’ll make it count.”
“And I’ll be there,” she said firmly, smiling. “Every lap, every race, every hug after the race. Always.”
He laughed lightly, resting his head on her shoulder again. “Then right now… this is perfect.”
“It is,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple. “Absolutely perfect.”
And for the first time that day, both of them smiled without worry, knowing that even when the race was lost, love could still win.
