#toxic!carlos
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thisismeracing · 3 months ago
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Paranoid | CS55 (Patreon)
read the full piece here
― Pairing: situationship!carlos x merc!admin!reader (with a sprinkle of reader x lewis) ― Warning: curse words; family issues (it is mentioned that the reader was abandoned by her father), jealousy, slightly toxic!cs55, mentions of cheating, mentions of the Louis to Ferrari deal. angsty, jealousy, toxic dynamic; fem!reader (she/her); 1k8 words. ― Summary: Carlos always got what he wanted. He was handsome and smart. Someone else's life never seemed better, and Carlos never saw himself as a jealous person, until Lewis got the seat and the girl.
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If you asked Carlos Sainz if he was a jealous person he would deny it.
Just like if you asked Yn if she would ever get involved with someone from her line of work she would answer negatively.
But as it happens, fate likes to play with people, and it decided to play them two.
...
She was friendly, but there was a clear line drawn between them. 
To Yn in those lines, the sentence “never dare to get involved with a coworker” loomed. 
Carlos would find any excuse to get to the Merc garage unnoticed and “accidentally” bump into Yn and he was so set on at least making his feelings known that Yn couldn’t run anymore. For some reason, he always knew when she was around, and he got her number from a McLaren mechanic who just so happened to be her friend. She got tired, mainly because she was just as attracted to him but she refused to break down that wall, to step over the line she drew around herself ever since she started to understand the world.
...
“YOU’RE PARANOID!” She screamed when Carlos hinted that she was having an affair. “You know damn well my reluctance to get involved with coworkers, and even so, I’m your girlfriend, I wouldn’t cheat on you! Don’t you trust me?!” 
Carlos walked around the living room running his hands on his dark hair messing with the strands and even getting some from the roots with the force he was pulling them. 
“I do trust you, I just don’t trust him!” 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He grunted, finally coming to a stop a few feet from her, “You can’t blame me, you keep working overtime when it comes to him, he texts you outside of working hours and…”
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────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi! I hope you guys liked this lil sneak peek! Make sure to like and reblog if you did *mwah* as usual a shout out to my coffee emoji anon for proofreading this <3
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finifugue · 3 months ago
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(click for better quality) Got sick of people calling landoscar 'brocedes 2.0' and 'multi-21 2.0' when clearly those old men are actually just waging continuous war vicariously through the experiences of the new generation. So here you guys go
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iimplicitt · 2 months ago
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I WAS ALL OVER HER PT.2 — O.P.
pairings: oscar piastri x reader (romantic/platonic) | lando norris x reader (romantic)
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part two of three, link to part one here
summary: lando and y/n relationship is on the rocks. y/n either makes the worst or best decision of her life. oscar is losing it and has a secret habit of street racing? (listen to empathy while he races).
warnings: pining, missed opportunities, cheating (mentioned), cheating towards the end, 18+ smut, jealous!oscar, toxic!lando, mirror sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex sorta (stay safe), technically a HEA for oscar x yn? bumpy road to get there, though.
word count: 4.9k
dedicated to: @theonottsbxtch
authors note: this in no way speaks on my opinion of lando and what his personality may be like, i love him this is purely for the plot <3
୧‿̩�� ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You stood in the doorway of Lando’s bedroom in his flat in Monaco, sighing as he went through your phone. His eyes scrunched and a scowl on his lips as he held up the phone for you to see. “Who the hell is that?”
Narrowing your eyes to look, it was another comment some stranger left underneath one of your posts, calling you beautiful. The issue, to Lando at least, was that the stranger was a guy. “I don’t know.”
Lando scoffed and pulled your phone back towards him. “Yeah well, he’s also in your DM’s.”
You tried not to roll your eyes, knowing that would only annoy him further. He was weirdly obsessed with any male attention you received, not that you ever entertained it but he always made it seem like you were the one doing something. “And how many girls are in your comments and your DM’s? It’s not like I ever reply, unlike you.”
It wouldn’t have bothered you otherwise, even with Oscar and all the girls reaching out to him it never bothered you, you knew that’s simply how it was with fame. But the fact Lando would actually reply to them made you uncomfortable. He didn’t seem to care as he waved you off again. “I’m just engaging with my fans, what excuse do you have?”
You baulked at him. “I don’t talk to them.”
“I’m sure you just deleted the chats.” He practically threw your phone at you before turning around to go back to his game.
You wished you could say this was the first and last time you had this conversation with him, but it was beginning to feel like a weekly occurrence. You didn’t understand, he even had the audacity to flirt with girls in front of you but would say he was just being friendly. And who were you to question him, anyway?
You felt lost, lonely. Thrown into the world of dating a celebrity who gave no reassurance and it was like everyone you cared about suddenly wasn’t available to talk anymore. Either because of time zones, work, et cetera. And Oscar… you had always felt like he was someone to lean on without feeling like a burden but even now he felt like a stranger.
Events were beyond awkward, he’d mutter a hello before practically running away from you. Anytime you tried to talk to him, there was an excuse to leave. Your daily texts came to a halt besides a Happy Birthday message and a bouquet of flowers that Lando had thrown away before you even had a chance to hold them.
You’d still sometimes catch him staring at you though, and it kept a little flame of hope alive in your heart that he didn’t hate you. That your friendship maybe was salvageable, it just needed time.
At a club following a relatively successful qualifying for McLaren one night, you had just walked away from the bar with a new drink and weaved between the crowd of people. You weren’t sure where Lando was, and part of you said you probably didn’t want to know. Worrying about all the what if’s was going to kill you. Taking a sip of your drink, you decided you wanted a bit of fresh air and moved towards the large balcony the club had. It was still crowded, but not nearly as much and you found a seat at an empty table.
You mostly people-watched for a while, letting the alcohol create a comforting blanket over your nerves when someone sat down across from you.
Oscar was looking at you, eyes a bit bloodshot and his hair a mess as he held a glass of what might’ve been whiskey. Your shock made you sit there stupidly for a moment and stare at him. Surprised he made the first move to initiate some sort of interaction, anxious to talk to him, angry he had been avoiding you, and mad at yourself for not trying harder to fix things.
“Hi.” He said, his voice a bit rough around the edges.
Apparently words were lost on you as you continued to stare at him.
He sighed, his breath shaking as he messed with his glass tumbler. “Are you happy?”
Pursing your lips, you finally pulled your eyes away from him to look at the city skyline. “You’re drunk.”
“You’re not answering.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you, Oscar.” Not when he was intoxicated, at least.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. “Please, I need to- are you happy?”
Dammit, your eyes began to water. Why was he always able to pull such reactions out of you so easily? “You don’t always have to try and save me, Oscar. I’m a grown woman.”
“The most remarkable people in the world still might want help sometimes.”
You looked away from him, biting at the inside of your cheek in a weak attempt to keep your breathing even and wiped a tear away. You missed him, you really did. And maybe this rift was your own doing. You knew you couldn’t blame yourself for Lando’s behaviour but sometimes it felt like everything would’ve been easier, better for Oscar, if you weren’t in the picture. If you had just stayed home and not agreed to come to that first race last season.
Standing up, you offered a tense smile. “I’ll see you at the race tomorrow.” And you walked away.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Oscar had never truly hated anyone before, but with each passing day he came dangerously close to yanking Lando by the collar of his shirt and punching him. The way his teammate so blatantly flirted with other girls while doing media events was beginning to lose its shock value on Oscar, but his anger just kept reaching a boiling point. Maybe he needed to be more level headed and mature about the whole situation, but knowing how much Lando was disrespecting you started to affect how Oscar raced. It wasn’t a hindrance by any means, but people were starting to notice how much more aggressive he was being on track.
A few days before a race weekend, teams were allowed to go out and walk the track to get a feel for it. Which was necessary on all accounts because the upcoming circuit had recently been resurfaced. Oscar had his hands in his pockets as he walked, paying close attention to the curves and the changes in elevation when a familiar waft of perfume caught his attention. It took him off guard, not expecting to find you out here but there you were, walking with Charles’ girlfriend Alex, who was taking their dog Leo for a stroll.
Your eyes immediately caught his, muttering something to Alex before heading in his direction.
He stood there like a deer caught in headlights as you approached, messing with your nails nervously the closer you got. Finally, stopping a few feet away you gave him a small smile. In an instant it was like all the ice that had built up over his heart the past few months began to melt.
“Walk with me?” You offered, extending an olive branch and he nodded, letting a small smile tug at his own lips as he began to walk again, you by his side.
It was quiet for a little while, the air a bit tense but nowhere near what it had been lately.
“I still don’t understand how you aren’t scared shitless when you get in those cars. The turns are so sharp and you come at them so quickly.” You muttered, gnawing at your lip and he couldn’t help but stare at the soft look of them before he forced himself to look away.
“Over time the fear goes away. There’s a thrill to it, I think. An adrenaline rush. Corners are the best part sometimes.” He offered, looking at you again only to find you already staring at him.
“Is that why you hold on to the door handle for dear life when I drive? For the thrill of it?” You joked and he found himself laughing, forgetting how easy it was.
“I think that’s my body going into fight or flight mode when you’re behind the wheel.”
You shoved him playfully, shaking your head with a grin on your face. The brief physical contact made his head spin and butterflies erupt in his stomach. He desperately wanted to touch you, hug you, something… he didn’t know. “I miss you. This.” The words were out before he could think more on it but he didn’t regret them either.
Coming to a stop in front of Oscar’s garage, you looked up at him and smiled softly. “Me too.”
Your eyes locked onto his, feeling like the world had stopped spinning and it was just the pair of you. Oscar didn’t have to think about anything else as you stood there in front of him. His best friend and the girl he knew had his heart. Slowly, he lifted his hand as your hair got tossed around by the breeze and he brushed it away from your eyes. Taking in the soft feel of your skin and an electric shock went from his fingertips and tore apart each of his nerves.
Pulling away, you turned to go meet your boyfriend and the world started to move again.
He flipped over in his hotel bed, one arm wrapped around your waist as the other found leverage on the mattress. Your soft and shaky breath sent shivers down his body, feeling your soft skin slide against his as he moved down the bed.
“Oscar,” you whimpered out, hands tugging at his hair as desperation began to control your movements. You were so beautiful, no matter where or how he saw you. But there was something akin to holiness as he looked at you spread out on his sheets beneath him. Naked and wanting. Wanting him.
“Relax for me, angel.” He pressed a kiss to your hip before moving down, licking a long stripe up your wet—
He shot up, sweat drenching his skin and a painful erection showing a tent in his sheets. Oscar groaned as reality caught up with him, pressing his palms into his eyes. “What is wrong with me?” He whispered to his empty hotel room, still wishing you could somehow be there next to him.
The sex dreams had always been a common occurrence the moment he realised he liked you. Years of built up sexual frustration and he always felt guilty about them afterward. You were his best friend yet every other night he fantasised about fucking you. The dreams never stopped, even when you were in a relationship. Even when he was in one.
His hands dropped as he stared out the window, depressed and frustrated. “I am awful,” he muttered. But Oscar knew he’d have one again. Part of him didn’t want them to stop, and he’d tell himself he could live with the guilt.
Later that day, maybe it was the lack of sleep or the constant pain of knowing you were with Lando, but when he caught his teammate slipping a girl his number he snapped.
Once they rounded a corner and no one was around, Oscar grabbed onto his shirt and slammed him into the wall, pinning him there with an arm against Lando’s chest. “You are such a joke.” He bit out.
Lando blinked at him in surprise before shaking away his shock, trying to shove Oscar off of him but the Aussie didn’t budge. “What is your problem, mate? Get the hell off me.”
“Does she know you’re out here messing around or do you like rubbing it in her face so blatantly?” Oscar was three seconds away from punching him before Lando shoved him more roughly, finally managing to break free from the wall.
He narrowed his eyes at Oscar before laughing, the sound of it dry and lacking all amusement. “Since when did you start giving a fuck about her again?”
Clenching just jaw, Oscar walked up to his teammate, his own eyes narrowed and his voice low. “Quit playing with her or I’ll run you off the damn track.” With that, he patted Lando’s shoulder once before walking away.
The Dutch Grand Prix was approaching and Oscar felt like he was losing it. You were everywhere. Plaguing his thoughts. In all his dreams. All he could think about. Him and Lando had hit a stand still in their working relationship and the friendship they had built came crumbling down when Oscar realised how much of an arse he truly was to you.
There was a small get together with a decent amount of the drivers and some friends at a townhouse Max had. The grill was now cool from the earlier barbecue and most of the crowd had moved inside as the night air grew chilled and rain was approaching.
Oscar felt suffocated inside the house, though. Everything was too bright and too close. You were everywhere yet nowhere at once and Lando was being a smug bastard, acting like a saint when he was really a devil in disguise. No matter how hard Oscar tried, he couldn’t stop looking at you. Wishing he was Lando and hating himself for it. Wishing he was the one who got to fall asleep next to you at night, knowing he could love you properly. Then Lando disappeared, and so did you and he felt his brain shatter into a million pieces. Knowing it wasn’t him made his chest physically hurt and he stumbled towards the back yard, not being able to breathe until the door was shut behind him and all the voices became muted.
He froze the moment he saw you laying in the grass, staring up at the moon.
“Hey,” you said, hearing his footsteps approach before he laid down next to you. The grass was damp from earlier rain but he didn’t care. You were there next to him, that’s all that mattered.
It was quiet for a while. The only noise was from the house and crickets, sometimes thunder from the distance. His mind was moving quickly, yet sluggishly, and still everything felt strangely clear all the sudden as he star gazed with you.
“Break up with him.”
You were silent, but he heard you take in a sharp breath before you whispered the next word. “What?”
“Break up with him.”
“Oscar—“
Turning to you and perching himself up by his elbow, he continued. “I know I waited too long. I know I didn’t communicate with you. I know I’m an arse for ignoring you. I’m sorry, I am, but— he is horrible to you. You’re not happy, I know you aren’t.”
You looked up at him, still laying down and the moonlight painted a heavenly sight before him as your brows furrowed. “You know it’s not that simple.”
“Why not? I know you don’t love him, and he doesn’t love you—“
You finally sat up, eyes narrowed. “And what? You do? All this time you’ve apparently loved me but would tell me you weren’t interested and would go off dating other girls. What the hell am I supposed to do with that, Oscar?”
He quickly stood up to follow you as you also got up and began to walk away from him.
“Why put yourself through hell for him?” He bit out.
“I have spent years putting myself through hell waiting for you! I can handle him.”
“You shouldn’t have to handle him!”
You whipped around to yell something at him when the back door suddenly opened and Logan stepped out, eyeing the scene wearily. “Am I interrupting something?”
Before Oscar could say anything, you bit out a “Nope,” and stormed past the two drivers, disappearing into the house.
Logan quietly shut the door and raised a brow at Oscar. “Trouble in paradise?”
Oscar fell heavily onto a porch chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Something like that.”
Looking at his friend for a moment, Logan sat down across from him. “You know,” he started, “I’ve known you two for a long time and you’ve always seemed to work something out.”
Sighing, Oscar leaned back in the chair and thought about the last few months. Thought about that fateful night a few years ago. Logan must’ve been thinking about it, too.
“I know how messy it was the first time and how much you beat yourself up over it, but it worked out didn't it?”
“Did it?” Oscar asked. “I feel like we just kept pushing off the inevitable and now it’s blown up in my face.”
“Look, I know it sucked but you did the right thing not getting into a relationship with her back then. That would’ve blown up in your face. But now, man, you have the world at your fingertips.” He paused for a moment and rubbed at his chin. “Why’d you invite her in the first place?”
Oscar frowned at him. “What do you mean?”
“Come on. You never invited her to your old races. You knew how busy you’d be once you started in Formula One, you wanted her here.”
He shrugged. “I mean yeah, but—“
“And now Lando is in the way?”
Oscar sighed, “yeah.”
The long time friends looked at each other, not sure whether or not to mention they both knew Lando was cheating on you. Logan caught him with some girl in a hotel bar, Carlos yelled at him a few weeks ago when he caught him with someone, and the list went on.
Oscar had a feeling you knew as well, and he couldn’t wrap his head around why you wouldn’t just leave the bastard.
As if reading his thoughts, Logan spoke again. “She might feel trapped, you know? Despite even the worst circumstances, it’s hard to leave relationships sometimes.”
“When did you get wise?”
Logan laughed and shook his head, standing up to pat his friend on the shoulder. “I always have been. Now, you have two options. One, run after her and try to fix this no matter what or else you’re going to go through the rest of your life wondering what if you had tried harder. Or two, you try to let go of it. Let go of her, and move on.”
Oscar licked at his dry lips and looked down at his hands, noticing the calluses he got from racing. “I can’t forget about her.”
“Then get off your ass and go after her.”
Logan didn’t have to tell him again. He patted the American on the back in thanks and took off into the house, only you were nowhere to be seen.
He caught sight of Charles and pulled him to the side. “Have you seen her?”
His friend looked at him knowingly, the Monegasque had a weird sixth sense on reading people and on more than one occasion he had offered Oscar some friendly advice on the matter of a broken heart. “She left, mate. Not with Lando though, if that helps.”
It did, and if Oscar wasn’t in such a rush he would’ve hugged the man.
He muttered a thanks before grabbing his keys and running out the door. He wasn’t sure where she was, but the first place he would assume is the hotel the McLaren team was staying at.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
You shivered as you walked, your anger at everything beginning to fizzle away. Adrenaline had kept you warm for the most part as you got deeper into the city but now that it was fading you grew a bit nervous. A woman walking alone at night was never the safest or smartest decision.
But you had been so pissed off at Lando and angry that Oscar had been right. Right about everything. Lando was bad news but you were so desperate for attention you let a man start to slowly pick at you in ways he knew would make you crumble. He knew all your insecurities and would point them out to make a statement or if he got bored.
If you would’ve just been smart and waited a bit longer you could’ve been happy with Oscar. But… you had waited for years and you were tired. You knew it wasn’t your fault that he didn’t communicate how he had actually felt about you. That still didn’t solve any of the raging emotions going off inside you.
You heard a car approaching and kept your head down, hoping they would shoot past you. Much to your horror, the car with a strong sounding engine began to slow down. The deep rumble from it made your bones tremble, or maybe that was your fear.
Then a window rolled down and a familiar voice called out. ���Get in the car.”
You didn’t know what was wrong with you. You were being irrational, surely. But you kept walking, “go away.”
The car halted to a stop, a door opening and slamming shut and not a moment later Oscar was standing in front of you. Angry. “Get in the fucking car.”
You blinked at him. You knew he swore during races but hardly ever at you. You were about to argue with him, being fueled by pure stubbornness at this point when there was a loud crack of lightning and it began to rain.
“Fine,” you bit out, getting into the expensive car and at that moment you didn’t care if your wet clothes ruined the leather. Oscar didn’t seem to care either as he slammed his door shut.
He started driving once you buckled and you wanted to roll your eyes. He was clearly pissed at you, though you couldn’t fathom why. It wasn’t like you did anything to him. What made it clear he was mad was the increasing speed of the car. He was always careful, always put together. Besides when racing, you weren’t sure you had ever actually seen him speed before.
Although you trusted him with your life, your mouth felt dry as you went around a wide corner, your body being pushed to the side by the force of it. “Oscar—“
“What the hell is wrong with you? Walking out here alone at night in a country you’ve never been in?”
“We both know that’s not why you’re mad right now.”
Oscar laughed, the sound rough on your ears as he whipped around another turn, the tyres losing a bit of traction from the rain but he manoeuvred into a drift and easily corrected the car with a complicated turning of the wheel and doing lord knows what with the gear shift.
This was absolutely not the time to be thinking such things but you couldn’t help but notice how attractive he looked breaking who knows how many traffic laws. Your thoughts only annoyed you though, not understanding why you had to like him. Not understanding why you let yourself get into the current position you were now in. Not understanding why you let Lando treat you like shit.
“So your driving isn’t any better off the track, either.” The cruel words slipped out on their own accord. You didn’t mean it. Maybe it was Lando rubbing off on you, maybe you were just making excuses.
Oscar didn’t say anything, his knuckles turned white on the steering and sped up, going well over the speed limit now and drifting, the back of the car swinging much too close to poles and buildings. It was reckless yet controlled all at once. Maybe this was his outlet. He wasn’t a big drinker, obviously didn’t dabble in drugs, he wasn’t violent, and a Formula One car was worth millions of dollars and too risky to take frustrations out on. Maybe he did this often, maybe that’s why he did it with expert precision as he raced through the streets of Zandvoort.
You didn’t know why, but when police sirens and flashing lights started to follow the car, you laughed. It was strangely liberating, watching Oscar let go of everything for once and for you to let go of fear.
Your eyes met his, red and blue lights gleaming off them and you two shared a smile before he raced off, evading law enforcement with a surprising ease and you wondered what other surprises Oscar still had in store for you after all these years.
He pulled into a dark alleyway between two buildings, quickly shutting the car off and turning out the lights. He lightly placed a hand on your back and pushed you down so you both weren’t in view from the back window. A few seconds later the police whipped by, neither of you moved till the sirens faded.
You were quiet for a minute, the only sound was your heavy breathing mixed with Oscar’s and you could just barely catch the gleam of his eyes in the dark as he looked at you. Sitting up, you messed with the hem of your shirt, a cold wave of reality hitting you. This felt like some sort of event horizon. Whatever happened in this car would determine if and how he’ll be in your life.
“Oscar,” you started quietly. He sat up as well, looking at you in the dark and hummed, patient. “Please tell me this all isn’t because I’m now something you feel like you can’t have.” The words were out, one of your biggest fears. Insecurities. Terrified he was only interested because suddenly you weren’t an option anymore. An option he’d always had.
“Angel, there was never anyone else.” His voice was so quiet you barely heard him, or maybe your heart was beating too loudly over his words. “I’m done for.”
You sucked in a breath, forgetting how to breathe as you looked at him. Your best friend. The man you’ve been in love with for years. The way he was looking at you, it wasn’t any different than how he usually did. You had just apparently been naïve to the sheer desperation in it.
“Oscar—“
His lips crashed against yours, your back hitting the door and his hands cupped your face, holding him to you.
You froze, only for a moment as your stomach dropped from the surprise. Then it came rushing back up to you and your fingers buried themselves in his hair, kissing him back with such ferocity you weren’t aware you were capable of.
One of his hands held the nape of your neck while his other hand quickly undid your seat belt, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He was so warm, soft yet rough at the same time and he tasted like heaven. As his tongue slid past your lips, dancing against yours you let out a moan that had him trembling against you.
Years. You had waited years to kiss him. You’ve dreamt about it. God, you even cried about it a couple of times. The pure longing you had been harbouring all this time had reached criticality and now you were just about to explode. His hands were all over you, exploring every inch as if he was a crazed man who found the holy grail and couldn’t quite believe it.
His tongue explored the inside of your mouth, hot and wet and he was practically breathing you in. Your nails raked through his hair, wanting so much more it felt maddening.
His teeth tugged at your bottom lip as he pulled away, his eyes heavy lidded and before you could utter a complaint his mouth latched onto your neck, just below your jaw. The sound that left your mouth was embarrassing but he seemed to love it, a moan leaving his mouth and vibrating through you as he left a wet trail of open mouth kisses down your throat, sucking and biting as he went.
You tugged on his hair, a whimper leaving his mouth but it was swallowed up by your mouth as you kissed him again. With one hand snaking up underneath your shirt, his other hand grabbed your wrist and placed it on—
Your brain short circuited by how hard his cock was. Not only that, but you were touching him. There. You could faint.
“Angel, please.” It was practically a whine as he kept kissing you, his hips pushing up into your hand. As if the sounds leaving his mouth commanded you, you squeezed his erection through his pants.
Oscar shuddered violently, his head falling into the crook of your neck. “Fuck.”
“Oscar.” You sounded needy. You didn’t care. And for a whole list of fucked up reasons, you didn’t care that you had a boyfriend.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
landonorris
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liked by carlossainz55, f1, maxverstappen1 and 1,926,378 others
landonorris yup 🏆 more like it
*tap to load more comments*
userone: LESGOOOOO
usertwo: twowinssss
userthree: anyone notice how tense lando & oscar were?
| userfour: yea… and landos gf. super weird
| userfive: neither of them liked this either
usersix: y’all see those dm’s some girl leaked???
| userseven: YEAAA lando has been lurkinggg
| usereight: embarrassing honestly
usernine: y’all see that video of oscar drifting through the city? wild
| userten: I KNOWWW it was sick. didn’t know he was like that
| usereleven: who do you think the girl was in the passenger seat?
usertweleve: MORE DM’S GOT LEAKED
userthirteen: lando is quite literally for the streets
userfourteen: is this why oscar has been racing dirtier? his teammate fucks over his best friend? yikes
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part three found here
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grogumaximus · 1 year ago
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schumi-nadal · 3 days ago
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One thing is funny about being insulted by all those Carlos "fans" (won't call them real fans tbh he deserves way better than toxic people): I was already watching F1 that they were not born, if you think that Charles was shitty today, just remember we had Michael Schumacher as the most dramatic queen ever and Sebastian Vettel was a little Gremlin at some points. REAL FANS WERE NOT FIGHTING FOR THAT!
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janesurlife · 2 months ago
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Red bull self sabotaging themselves will be remembered in f1 history
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mdemn · 8 months ago
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WANTING IS A FILTHY THING. BUT I LEARNED GREED BEFOFE I LEARNED SHAME.
red doc - anne carson , first love / late spring - mitski , starvation - maya angelou , let dead dogs lay - silas denver melvin (@sweatermuppet), wishbone - richard siken, a self portrait against red wallpaper - richard siken, truisms - jenny holzer, stop telling me i should’ve died too - tumblr user @tankgotstuckinthecircusgate, many hands - lingua ignota, hungry thread of nerves - fatima aamer bilal
support me on kofi <3
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sequinsandfins · 15 days ago
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His phone rings. 
Oscar knows he shouldn’t pick it up. It’s 11:49pm and he knows who is calling.
He only ever calls around midnight. He’s never sober. He’s always begging for it. Begging Oscar to fuck him.
Oscar’s heart tightens. He rejects the calls. Does not read the messages flooding his notifications.
It’s 12:23am when the knocking banging on his door starts.
Maybe he can ignore it.
He can’t ignore it. Not when it’s obvious that he’s not going to leave. He’s going to cause a commotion in the hallway. Oscar’s neighbours are going to complain, or worse.
Oscar pulls the door open.
Carlos is leaning against the doorframe. His eyes are a little glassy, but Oscar can see he’s not as wasted as other times.
“Cariño, por favor,” Carlos takes a step forward, but Oscar plants himself in the doorway. An immovable force.
“Carlos, go home.”
Oscar is tired, his heart hurts and he doesn’t know how long he can be brave.
“Oscar, please, mi amor,” Carlos says softly.
He always says these things in the middle of the night. Whispers things Oscar desperately wants to hear sober, wants to hear in the morning light.
Carlos is touching him now. Warm hand against his jaw, pulling him into a kiss.
“Oscar,” he murmurs, “I need you.” 
He knows he’s going to regret this in the morning. But Oscar wonders, not for the first time if maybe this is the night he will wake up to Carlos in his bed.
He’s weak, he wants to take the chance.
Maybe this time.
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my-fall-from-grace · 3 months ago
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regarding logan’s frat boy photo dump : do we think this is his hot girl summer / revenge era? is he finally in the glow up phase of a 2010s teen disney movie? did he see the comments about how depressed he was and how he must be crying himself to sleep and chose to drop a slutty little nip slip just to prove them wrong? is he vague posting to james like you would an ex boyf, posting yourself hot and sexy and happy just to prove they’ve not ruined you? or if he vague posting to carlos like you would the person who your partner cheated on you with in effort to prove you have someone else and you’re better than ever?
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yu-huuuu · 15 days ago
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"Your body, my choice"
"Your microdick, my knife🥰🔪"
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perfectlycleverduck · 3 months ago
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Estrella Galicia sponsorship is still up and running also he looks so hot😤🫦
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just-an-enby-lemon · 10 days ago
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My brain is unable to produce anything but angst.
Like I had this cute fluff idea of Carlos being a Ford fanboy and moving to Nightvale inspired by his favorite scientist going to study Gravity Falls in the 70s/80s. All mostly based on the fact Carlos moved to Nightvale the same year Mabel and Dipper went spend the summer at Gravity Falls.
And it was cute. It was mostly Carlos sending fan letters/reports and Ford reading them and deciding - thanks to Mabel - to answer and making a friend he didn't had a complicated past with (and had a similar love for science).
But them my brain went "Ford would fully assume Cecil was like Bill, right?" I mean from Ford's view there's a paranormal guy who imidiatly is into the scientist? Clearly manipulation.
And at first it was still fine. Maybe Ford helped Carlos own inicial distrust of Cecil. But my brain kept going. To the point it decided that maybe what makes Stan and Ford visit Nighvale after the Weirdmagedon is the news that Carlos is not being cautelos and instead is dating Cecil.
So at this point it was still just a funny au with Ford thinking Cecil is some type of evil charming eldrish god that'll end the world while Cecil is just bonding with Stan and super trying to impress his bf friends.
But finally my brain went: "okay but what about after Ford realizes that Cecil is just an overly dramatic paranormal guy and truly just loves Carlos?". And I realized that while of course Ford would be happy for his friend and relived about the world he would feel even more as if Bill was his fault. Here is Carlos just getting a sweet guy and maybe he was the only one that couldn't see the difference.
And now I need someone to write it and give Ford a hug.
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devilsainz · 1 year ago
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oh. Oh.
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slythereen · 5 months ago
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final thought on today: it's not a matter of whether or not the strategy choice to save at the start was the correct one (i.e., "well we had new softs and they had old"). what matters is that the team agreed on the strategy and both drivers agreed to follow that strategy. only sainz decided to disregard pre-determined plans (again) because he decided he didn't care for it after all.
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danieldrivesfast · 3 months ago
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Here I go again.
You know, when I first got my tickets for COTA, I was so excited to meet more F1 fans, especially ones who aren't men. I was ready to go to meetups, trade bracelets, make some acquaintances I could bullshit with. Spread the joy of girlhood, you know?
(My tickets got upgraded for free thanks to a very benevolent rep, so now I'm at the top of a $1500/ticket grandstand instead of GA, but I digress. 😌)
After being around the "fandom" more? I'll take the men. Every time.
When it comes to talking sports, men are awful in a specific way. They'll talk down to you, sure, but the second they realize you're right, they either move on or stop acting like an idiot. Honestly, more recently men - in person especially - have been decently respectful when talking racing. The last few races I've been to have been great for conversations and trading stories (and free beer). They don't give a shit who you are as long as you know your stuff.
Fandom girlies (gn)? They'll wish death on someone for breathing the wrong way. They'll harass someone until they leave social media. They'll harass team employees about decisions they don't like or imagined offenses even though those employees have no say. They'll stalk partners and families and leave nasty messages and think that's okay. They'll mock drivers for being open about their mental health struggles and actively try to make it worse. They'll create narratives about people they've never met to justify the vile things they say and do. They'll openly admit they don't care about reality, they hate for hate's sake. The girls can't understand that these are human men with emotions and personalities, they're not characters written for their enjoyment. They have lives and relationships that the public isn't privy to, and nobody is owed every detail about their private lives. In person? Fucking yikes. God forbid you like the same driver and try to have a conversation. (I promise, he's not going to fuck either of us.)
In my time around sports, not just racing, I have always tried to be welcoming and encouraging to people getting into it. I used to work with a pro team and a specific athlete to orchestrate special experiences for fans. I always believed it was better to have more fans, especially younger, diverse fans. But dealing with what I see here, on Twitter, on TikTok, on IG? I don't want these people around racing, or society, to be honest. It's like they saw the ugly men and said "How can we be worse?"
OBVIOUSLY it's not every girl or every man. I know there are girls who are incredible and men who most definitely are not. But if I'm picking a group, I'll take the one that isn't going to call me a racist/make up shit about me/tell me I should die or that they want to kill me for pointing out they're factually wrong about something or liking a different driver.
But sure, girlies. Tell me all about respect.
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schumi-nadal · 3 days ago
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I need popcorn everytime i see my mutuals hating either on Charles or Carlos, same for Max and Lewis
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