Formula 1 Fluff - Blog Posts

needy, oscar piastri.

cw: SMUT, p in v, hair pulling, & more . . .

"be gentle, oscar," you warn as he swiftly pulls you onto his lap, straddling him.

his fingers toy with the waistband of your pants before removing them entirely, causing you to emit a high-pitched whine.

"i know, i know," he murmurs, running his hands up and down your thighs while pressing kisses along your collarbone. he moves to your ear, nibbling softly on your earlobe. "i'll take care of you."

an amused smirk plays on his lips as you squirm in his lap. "just can't keep still for me, can you?" he says, tracing patterns on your skin.

"alright, big stretch," he slowly lowers you onto him, watching as you take him in, bit by bit, until half of his dick is inside you. "there we go."

"oscar!" you cry out, your hands flying to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

"shh, shhh..." he whispers. "such a needy little thing, aren't you?"

"wait, oscar," you tap his shoulder gently. "need to adjust," you pant, feeling his grip on your body loosen for a moment. "you can move now." you swallow thickly, nodding.

"okay, baby, we're gonna go up.." he lifts your body up, "aaand down." then he lowers you back onto his dick, causing you to let out a breathy moan.

"oh my g-oood!" you gasp, squeezing your eyes tightly shut. you lean forward and bury your head in the crook of his neck, trying to muffle the sounds escaping your lips.

"aww, trying to be quiet, are we?" his lips curl into a cocky grin as he gives your hips another quick pinch.

he takes one hand off your hip and threads his fingers through your hair. "gonna keep you like this all night long," he coos, "keep you right on the edge, baby."

this went on for hours until he finally brought you to four orgasms. four. you didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

© kissedsuns

cat scratch, oscar piastri.

cw: SMUT, scratching, p in v, crying, & more . . .

for someone often described as a 'polite cat,' oscar certainly lives up to the 'cat' part, though 'polite' wouldn't be how you'd describe him when he's pounding into you without an ounce of mercy.

you were in the midst of a silly argument with him when you said something that seemed to push him over the edge.

he suffered a terrible day and a lousy race, and your complaint about him ignoring you on the way back to the hotel was the last straw.

"shut up," you snap, your patience wearing thin. you didn't want to hear any more about his bad day or the race.

oscar's eyes flash with anger. "you shut up," he bites back.

you step closer, challenging him with your gaze. "oh yeah? make me, dickhead."

for a moment, oscar's expression softens into one of mock defeat. "okay," he sighs, a smirk playing on his lips. "but you might moan a little."

before you can process his words, he pounces on you, his hands gripping your hips as he pushes you onto the bed. your breath hitches as he positions himself above you, eyes dark with intent. there's no gentleness in his touch, no hesitation as he drove into you with a force that left you gasping.

"so quiet now," he taunts, his voice a low growl. "what happened to that bratty little mouth of yours, hm?"

you could only moan in response, your body trembling beneath him. he pulls out briefly, just long enough to flip you over so you were on your back, facing him. your cheeks were flushed, your skin slick with sweat as he looks down at you.

"you're such a messy girl," he murmured, his hand tangling in your hair before he thrusts back into you. the sensation was overwhelming, your cries filling the room as he set a relentless pace.

"i'm- fuck, 'm sorry!" you gasped, the words tumbling out as he leaned down to nip at your neck, his teeth grazing the bruises he'd left earlier.

oscar doesn't let up. "aw, poor baby," he mocks, his lips curving into a smirk. "i don't care that you're sorry." his hips continue their brutal rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

with a sudden move, oscar lifts you off the bed and positions himself beneath you, keeping himself inside you the entire time. "y'gonna ride me, okay?"

you nod, your mind hazy with desire as you begin to move. your pace was slow at first, just testing the waters, but oscar's encouragement spurred you on.

"there we go, you've got it," he coos.

his hips buck up occasionally, driving deeper into you which results in you almost collapsing on top of him.

your hands clutch onto oscar's shoulders, fingers digging into his skin as you desperately try to steady yourself. your body is quivering, threatening to give out under the relentless assault of his hips driving into you.

"i can't do it- oscar! fuck-" you gasp, your voice breaking as you struggle to maintain your balance. each thrust from him sends a jolt of pleasure through you, making it nearly impossible to stay upright. "osc, i can't keep going!"

he knows you can. deep down, you know you can too.

"you're whining," he says, rolling his eyes. his tone is almost menacing as his nails rake down your thighs, leaving red trails in their wake. "thought we said we weren't gonna do that."

his grip on your ass tightens, his nails digging in even more when you don't immediately comply. the sharp sting only heightens your arousal, and you can feel tears of frustration welling up in your eyes.

"am i makin' you cry, baby?" oscar mocks, his voice dripping with faux sympathy as he reaches up to wipe a tear from your cheek.

you're not in pain; you're in heaven. although, you are a little embarrassed that you're so turned on by oscar being a little shit.

he laughs, a low, rasping sound that sends shivers down your spine. "suck it up," he sneers.

the rest of the night blurs into a haze of exhaustion and pleasure, your body pushed to its limits as he continues to mouth off about what a brat you are.

the next morning, you wake up with a deep, throbbing ache in almost every single muscle. your ass also feeling especially tender for some reason.

you groan, rubbing your eyes groggily as you take in the sight of oscar completely knocked out beside you. his hair is tousled, falling onto his forehead, and a few bite marks cover his shoulders.

those marks, however, are almost nothing in comparison to what you have.

slowly, you remove yourself from oscar's arms, shivering as the cool morning air hits your bare skin. you reach for something warmer to wear, eyeing the clothes that scatter the bedroom floor.

as you pull on a baggy tee and some thin, lace shorts, you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. your ass is covered in scratch marks, red and sore. you knew he was gripping you, digging his nails into your skin, but you hadn't realised just how marked up you were.

it looks like a cat had scratched you all over.

"oscar piastri!" you whisper-shout, storming back over to the bed and waking him from his slumber.

he rubs his eyes sleepily, staring up at you with a half-lidded gaze. "yeah?"

"you're a fucking cat," you huff, pointing to your scratched-up backside. "my ass is covered in scratches."

oscar lets out a raspy laugh, propping himself up against the headboard. he just shrugs and smirks at you, clearly unbothered.

he's proud of his work. you, however, are not.

© kissedsuns