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justjams2003 · 22 hours
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Hey, I don’t think you put the right warning and pairing with your fic. I loved it though!
If you are referring to the recent Fast Pace request, then I did take a look and fixed it. Thank you for showing me! And I'm so glad you loved it!
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justjams2003 · 2 days
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Hiii! Super loved your recent work (fast pace) đŸ©· I was really hooked and now it's one of my favorite Carlos fics here!
I was wondering if I could request a special part of it? Anything like their life with their kids, their life after carlos' retirement, or something domestic! Thank you đŸ«¶đŸ»
Hi! I just want to apologize for making you wait for so long. I took a bit of a writing break after finishing Fast Pace. But I got inspired after Carlos won last weekend! Please enjoy:
Summary: Some domestic bliss as you and Carlos pick up your three eldest children after their first day of Grade 1 and kindergarten.
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader Husband!Father!Carlos Sainz x Wife!Mother!Reader
Warnings: Carlos is aged up and is in this request now 41. Age difference. A cute happy family. Even still, manipulation, control, obsession. Carlos tampers with your birth control. Kissing. A very slight mention of alcohol.
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen @formulaal tjdjindahouse
Word count: 2k
Masterlist
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The first year of marriage was amazing. You spent almost every hour with Carlos. Jumping from airplane to airplane, country to country. You were attached at the hip. The media either loved it or hated it...you actually didn’t know. At some point, a PR team took over your Instagram and it was rare for you to ever actually read the comments or news. Any information you’d receive would come from Carlos and his team, after all, they’re all you really can trust.  
 That was, of course, until, mysteriously, your birth control pills stopped working. It feels like so long ago, the day Carlos picked you up in his arms, celebrating the news of a child. Now, you wait outside the school gates, seven years later, with a much older Carlos but just as excited. His eyes now crinkle up and he has a few grey steaks at the temples of his hair. But he’s not any less handsome.  
Especially when his big strong arms holds your daughter in his arms. Your little girl sits perched on his hip. The only other girl in his life, besides you. She looks so much like him. Dark toughs of hair that you’ve combed this morning with the same wavy texture as his hair. Her big brown eyes gleam up with such love at him.  
And at the same time, he carries your son in his car seat with the other arm. He’s sleeping soundly, his dummy bobbing up and down as he suckles in his sleep. You’re so glad Carlos is here to help. You were sad three years ago when he decided to retire at the end of the season. But now, you’re so grateful. You don’t think you could do this with him on the other side of the world.  
You feel like you’ve been pregnant forever now. Totally accidently five months after giving birth, now you’re 2 months pregnant again. You groan, everything hurts. Your breasts are engorged from breastfeeding and now being pregnant again. You’ve got constant heartburn and nausea. Your hair has thinned and your nails feel brittle. And yet, including all that, Carlos still believes wholeheartedly that you are the most gorgeous girl in the whole world.  
Carlos steps closer to you and places a kiss on your temples. “¿Cómo te sientes, mi amor?” When was the last time that you spoke English? You can’t really remember, because now Spanish also sounds like English. “Tired, mostly, I’ve missed the boys all day, it feels so strange without them home.” He chuckles and nods, “It’s strange for the house to be quiet... You think everything went well?”  
You smile and turn to the gates, you know Carlos is worried his children might be bullied or used for his name. That they won’t be able to make proper friends, that all the kids would just use them to get into the celebrity world. You had a meeting with the twins and Junior’s schools to handle this with grace.  
You can feel the other parents whisper, talking with each other. You feel someone tap your shoulder. You turn, it’s a woman who looks to be your age, 31. Where has the time gone? She smiles and speaks in Spanish, like everyone else where you live. “Is this your first time?” She asks with a kind smile. You return the expression, “No, not at kindergarten. But it’s still as nerve wracking.”  
She laughs with you as you begin your small talk. “But, after this we have to pick up our son at first grade, which makes our stomachs turn.” You laugh and lightly graze Carlos’ arm to show who ‘we’ are. “Is this your husband?” She asks and Carlos nods. “Hi, I’m Carlos. I would shake your hand but my hands are a little full.” He says, referring to the children in his hands. He refuses to let you carry anything while pregnant.  
“And I’m Y/N.” You shake her hand and she also introduces herself. Then your ear catches the sound of excited children screaming as the first classroom door opens. Your head snaps to the noise and then you see the teacher you had met with walking to the gate with a trail of kids behind her.  
You can see your twin boys anxiously scanning the parents trying to find you. And when the eldest of the two do see you, he grabs his brother’s arm and quickly runs over. “Mama! Papa!” They yell and excitedly run over into your arms. They wrap their arms around you, as you bend down and hug them close.  
“Hello, my loves, how was it?” You ask, combing the hair out of their eyes. They look a lot more like you than the other kids. “It was fun, but missed you mama.” Dario, the youngest of the two says. Your girl babbles and makes grabbing hands at Antonio, the oldest of the twins. “Papa, wanna hold sis.” Antonio says, Carlos smiles and puts Bianca down on her little feet. Your kids hug each other, Carlos has raised his sons to have the same protectiveness as he has over their mother and sister.  
“Come on, hold my hand.” You say taking each of their hands in your own. Carlos crosses the road first and then you. He opens the car door for you. It’s almost ironic for this retired championship formula one driver to now be the one driving a mini-van. It is his fault, he just can’t keep his hands off his wife. Carlos wouldn’t have it any other way.  
He buckles each of the kids into their car seat. The twins next to each other in the back and the two youngest in the front. Your youngest, seven month old is the best behaved. He sleeps in his car seat, that is until the twins start arguing, like always. Who had the best lunchbox, who is tallest, who mom and dad like most. Even though, you made sure they had the same lunchbox, they’re twins and thus the same height and like all parents, you don’t have a favourite.  
“Oi! Stop arguing, you’ll wake up your brother.” Carlos commands, his tongue moving fast in his home language. It still gets you all warm when he speaks Spanish. “Sorry, papa,” they say in unison. You just sigh and shake your head. “Papa?” Your daughter, Bianca calls out. “Yes, my princess?” Carlos replies. “Ice-cream?” The little girl asks, your heart melts and you’re certain that your husband is also a puddle. “After we pick up Junior, we’ll go out for ice-cream.”  
Your kids scream in excitement, causing your baby to start whimpering and then soon crying. “Ai, mi amour.” Carlos sighs and shakes his head, his eyes meet yours in the rear-view mirror while you sit next to your youngest children. You slightly lean over your seat and give him a kiss on his greying temples. “It’s okay, my love.”  
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You’ve got RaĂșl, your youngest, strapped into your sling. Bianca sits high on Carlos’ shoulders, daddy’s little girl. Her fingers gripped into his salt and pepper hair. You can’t help but reach up and untangle her fingers. “My love, when did you start going grey?” You ask Carlos, staring into his warm brown eyes. He just laughs and shakes his head.  
“Must you point it out? I feel so old compared to the other parents...” He mutters, the other parents are around your age, some even younger. “I like it though...a silver fox.” He once again laughs and sighs. “No, mi amor.” You grin wildly at his reaction. “41 Isn’t that old...” He mumbles and again you just smirk. “I mean, Alonso was still racing at 41...” 
That really does get him, he bursts out laughing. “Yeah, you’re not wrong...” Then you feel Dario tug on your hand. “Look, Mama!” You see kids, with backpacks looking far too big for their tiny bodies, come pouring out of classroom. Then your eldest son, you can’t help but smile seeing he’s chatting with other kids. And then his big brown eyes look up and see Carlos, he begins running.  
The little boy runs up and hugs Carlos around the legs. Your twins greet their oldest brother. Bianca waves down to her brother from above. Junior gleams up, you remember when you gave birth to Bianca, Junior wanted to do everything for her. He’d carry her around every chance he got.  
“Come, papa said we can have ice-cream.” You tell Junior after he hugs you. “Really?” He asks, his eyes beaming up. Carlos winks and then nods.  
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Ding! Your phone has a notification. You grab your phone on the nightstand. “Who is it?” Carlos asks, coming out of the shower. All five of your kids are fast asleep. You read the text. “It’s Alex.” She and Charles had married 3 years ago, no kids yet. “What does she say?” Carlos asks, lying down in the bed next to you, taking your phone and reading the text.  
“Hey Y/N, we miss you, why don’t we go out and party tonight? Leave the kids with Carlos.” She texted in the group chat, and Kika added. “We haven’t seen you in like years now that Carlos isn’t racing anymore.” Carlos just laughs at their antics. He hands your phone back to you. “Do you want to go?” He asks, raising his brow.  
When was the last time you went out alone? When was the last time that you weren’t with Carlos? Since he retired...there hasn’t really been a second alone? It would be kind of nice, to talk about something other than the kids... “I’d prefer if you didn’t...” Carlos mutters, he crawls down to your stomach. He gently lifts your pyjama short and kisses your stomach. “Pregnant and all...”  
You just smile, combing your fingers through his salt and pepper hair. You pick up your phone and text your friends in the groupchat. “Sorry, girls, can’t have alcohol...đŸ™ˆïżœïżœïżœ You get a quick reply back. “Again?!” “Didn’t you like just give birth???” Your cheeks go red at their comments. You feel the urge to send them a photo of Carlos kissing your stomach, but don’t. You do, however, take a photo, saving it for later and then put the phone down.  
“I hope it’s another girl.” He mutters, placing small kisses on your stomach. You can’t help but smirk. “I hope it’s the last one.” You mutter, playing with his hair. He pouts, placing his chin gently on your stomach. “Why? You look so fucking good pregnant.” He says, lust in his gaze. You just laugh and roll your eyes. “To you, maybe. But I’m telling you, my love, I don’t want to have to drive a limousine to their schools.”  
You can see him think for a moment. “You mean it? No more kids?” He says, jutting out his bottom lip and making his eyes gleam. It’s hard to say no to him, but you stay firm, for once in your life. You actually wanted to stop after the twins. Not that you love Bianca and RaĂșl any less.  
But this number six is the most difficult so far. You’re taking both pre-and-postnatals at the same time. “Yes, I mean it.” You say, stern. You’d like your body to be yours again...“Alright, I’ll get the snip. I don’t want you on those damn pills. I can’t fucking stand them, they’re unnatural.” He mutters, his jaw locking...  
Huh...Always thinking about your well-being...  
“You look so fucking good as a mom. Seeing how much they adore you. It’s hard to keep my hands off you.” He snarls, his kisses on your stomach becoming more sloppy. He trails up to your lips. Capturing your lips in his. So furious and desperate on your lips. “I love you, mi amor. You’re mine. Only mine.”  
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Request are open.
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justjams2003 · 2 months
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😆 Glad to see you're so excited, there's been a sudden uptick in this story... I wonder why... In any case, I might actually have to finish it 😬
Blossoms
A/N: Hello everyone. Before I start I would like to preface some things.The story will mainly be taking elements from the 2004 movie. Yet that will be coming in much later for the climax. If you have any other questions, feel free to ask:) Also this is only chapter 1 and more will be uploaded shortly.
Summary: A young author travels away from her family to The Opera she has heard so much about. She lost and confused and yet still seems to get a job there as a cleaner. Yet when she meets a mysterious man there, everything changes. Her mind is entirely consumed, but will she allow her burning need for him consume her life as well?
Pairing: Erik/Phantom x FemaleOC
Warnings: Neglectful parents, daydreaming, (Later on) Smut, (later on) pregnancy. Tell me if I miss any:)
Keep reading
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justjams2003 · 2 months
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Fast Pace- 15
I'd just like to thank @multi-universe21 for the Spanish Translations for these last two chapters.
The last one guys! This is the very last chapter! I can't believe it. I've been putting off posting this all day, because I'm so sad that this is over now :( Keep in mind, my request are always open. And I'll miss all you pookies so much đŸ«¶. Follow if you'll miss me too, or don't. đŸ«¶
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smut (Actually this time!!), sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, i guess Instagram posts?? Angst! Lots of it! Tell me if I missed any
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen @formulaal tjdjindahouse
Word count: 4.3k
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Part 14
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Y/N'susername 12 January 2024
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Liked by CarlosSainz55, Charles_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, LandoNorris and 1,647,903 more Some might say it’s too fast, but you and I have always loved a fast pace. Tagged: CarlosSainz55 Comments: CarlosSainz55: So obsessed with you. I love you so much. <3
Charles_Leclerc: So happy for you two <3
Alexandrasaintleux: You’re gonna be a Sainz before the end of the year!
LandoNorris: Well done, @CarlosSainz55, you found someone who will put up with you like I do
where’s my proposal? CarlosSainz55: You’re not as pretty as her. đŸ€· LandoNorris: A dagger to the heart😭
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Y/N'susername 6 March 2024
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Liked by CarlosSainz55, Alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and 198, 379 more Working hard or hardly working? The first option. Tagged: Francisa.cgomes and CarlosSainz55 Comments:
CarlosSainz55: Missing you so much already, mi futura esposa. Y/N’susername: I haven’t been this far away from you since we met😭
Francisca.cgomes: Already having so much fun with you!
Francisca.cgnomes: @CarlosSainz55, you’re all she talks about ✋ Y/N’susername: Nooo, don’t expose me😭
Comments have been limited.
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The cold air hits your face, you don’t remember Paris being this cold. It doesn’t help that the dress you’re being fitted with doesn’t do much for heat. You pull the coat you’d been given closer to your body. It’s luckily big, Dior doesn’t want any paparazzi seeing their opening outfit.
You’re exhausted, it’s two days before fashion week starts. You’ve been pulled into a million places, auditions, fittings, rehearsals and everything in between. The cold air makes you crave a cigarette so badly. Not only that, you miss Carlos more than anything. You haven’t seen him in a month. You call almost every night, but it still isn’t enough. When he’s busy, you’ll play the Ferrari video again. He isn’t himself, but it is close enough.
You can hear someone calling your name but assume that it’s the same people who have been calling you all day. That is of course, until someone grabs you from behind and turns you around to face them.
Your fight or flight kick in before you can even see who it is. Your arms flail and your legs kick in all different directions. Not really caring for the pins stabbing into your side. Where are Otis and Brutis when you truly need them?
“Y/N, Y/N! C'est moi! C’est moi!” You know that voice, you know that accent, you know these strong arms. Your kicking stops, but your screaming doesn’t. “BĂ©renger! Let go of me, you fucker!” He does, he drops you right as you are. You don’t even turn to him, your bare feet hit the pavement with some speed. Before you can even open the door again, he stops you once more.
He calls you again, but this time you turn to him with fury. “Don’t you remember? I’m a whore, and a slut who sleeps with pedos?” You can see your brother bite the inside of his cheek. “What? You were so opinionated when Jean was disowning me! Now, you have nothing to say?” You scoff at his utter silence, but it doesn’t last long.
“Nothing I say will make you believe me, so I’ll just show you.” He pulls out a phone and shows you an image. “What the fuck is this?” He sighs at you refusing to even look at his phone. “It’s a picture of Carlos at the restaurant where you worked, three months before you actually met.” You trusted him, just as you had trusted Jas and Ilsa and told him everything.
Now you regret it more than anything. You look, and you recognised those booth seats and plates, you’d seen them so many times before. You shrug, “May be, but it could be chalked up to coincidence. What are you even trying to say?” His jaw locks and then he swipes to the right, then again and again and then he hands you the phone telling you to do the same.
“BĂ©renger, what am I looking at?” He still looks on edge but continues to explain. “I hired a private detective. He found this on Carlos’ cloud.” Now you laugh at him, “That’s not possible. I’ve looked at Carlos’ pictures before, and I’ve never seen these photos before.” You go to leave, thinking he’s just lying to hurt you again.
“His phone, yes! But not his laptop, not his PC, and not his cloud.” It’s true, yes. “What would these photos even mean?” You cross your arms, finally allowing him to speak. “He’s been stalking you, can’t you see? Months before you even met and he has hundreds of photos of you!”
This catches your attention. You sigh, and shake your head, trying to make sense of what he is saying. “Please, Y/N, you’re my sister. All our siblings missed you so much over Christmas. The girls were so excited to see you got engaged and couldn’t believe their ears when I told them what happened.”
This hits you in the stomach. It has to be wrong. He has to be lying. Or else your whole world will truly become crumbling down. More than ever before. “Is, is that all?” He shakes his head repeatedly.
“No, no there’s so much more.” How could there ever possibly be more than stalking? “I have to go, but I have just one day off tomorrow before a hectic week. Here’s my hotel room, we’ll talk.”
Your heart is racing in your ears, you don’t really listen to the people talking to you. You just sit in the makeup chair, trying to keep your stomach from twisting and turning. It has to all be lies, right? He must just be trying to get in your head, to hurt you even more. But, if you truly believed that it's all lies, why would have you agreed to meeting him?
The ringing hits your ear, not panic ringing but your phone. Your hands shake seeing Carlos’ name on your phone. For a fact, you know that if you don’t answer, he is going to worry all day. You don’t want that, he’s your fiancĂ©! But, does he really love you or are his jokes more the truth. Each time he tells you he’s obsessed with you, flies through your mind.
Was he being honest with you? Waiting for you to realise? You turn airplane mode on and the phone goes quiet.
Then there’s also the option of your brother lying. After all, he didn’t defend you that night. He didn’t leave with you when your parents kicked you out. In fact, he made it even worse. He called you and Carlos horrible names and haven’t tried to reach out.
Now you wish Kika was with you on this Dior shoot to help you think all this out.
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“You have 10 minutes because 10 minutes is all you gave me.” You both sit down on the balcony of your hotel room. You show him the 10-minute timer on your phone and as soon as the clock starts ticking he begins talking. “I don’t need ten minutes. I can tell you all you need to know now.” You don’t say a word, allowing him to continue.
“Carlos paid us a million euros to disown you.”
He doesn’t even say another word, clearly he can see you spinning. “What?” He nods and then pulls out his phone. Your eyes don’t deceive you. Nothing is truer than the image of your parents sitting on the porch of their new mansion. Bright smiles are on their faces. He swipes to the next photo and you see your siblings being spoiled with lavish gifts.
Now you’re glad that you’re sitting down. Your heart rate has skyrocketed, and you can’t help but look around at everything you now own. The million-euro ring on your finger feels much heavier than ever before. Suddenly you feel exhausted, and a throbbing headache makes itself known. Your throat is dry and your eyes burn with tears.
“No, no, this
this is edited. It must be.” The sun feels too bright and your chest feels too tight. What else is left for you, if you don’t have Carlos? Yes, you have Kika and Alex, but if you lose Carlos you lose them too.
You’ve kicked your friends out of your life. You don’t have your family anymore. He’s it. Carlos is the only real stable person in your life. His family, his friends, they’re the only people you have.
Your brother panics, he pours you a glass of water and you swallow it with one big gulp. What’s even worse than having no one but him, is you realise that that is what he wanted. He wanted himself to be the only one in your life. For you to be isolated and depend on him and only him. He’s used his influence and his money to remove your friends, your family, your job and your person.
“Ilsa? Jasmine? Did he
?” BĂ©renger nods before you can even finish your sentence. It confirms your thoughts. “There’s more
” he pours you another glass of water. “He planned your meeting. We searched and we couldn’t find a single article of any mob or crazy fans that whole day. We looked in further
 and found out that he paid your old boss to make sure you ended up in that ally on that day.”
What?
He's obsessed. He's crazy.
Then the contract enters your mind. NDA. Non-disclosure agreement. Is this why he had you sign it? You thought it was just a safety concern for Ferrari. To make sure they don’t lose any sponsors or something like that. Now you see it’s to protect himself. All just to make sure you don’t say a word. Because if this gets out, he’ll lose everything. He’d be in an even worse position than you.
“BĂ©renger. You need to leave.” His brows furrow together. “I have photos of that too if you don’t believe me. Recordings, audios, you name it.” You shake your head.
“No, no. I signed an NDA. You aren’t allowed to know any of this. He could sue you into oblivion. He could
” Memories of him saying he’d have people fired. The look in his eye when he would tell you what would happen.
He doesn’t move. “No, no. You’re my sister. He can sue me all he wants.” You shake your head, over and over. Standing up on your wobbly legs. Trying to push his huge body from the seat. “He’ll do worse. Much worse, I’m sure.” His eyes go big at your reaction. “Leave. Now.” He sighs and then takes your phone and puts in his new number.
“If you need me. For anything. Message me, call me.” You can only nod. “Be careful. Don’t let the guards see you looking anything but normal.” Then you realise, they’d likely already told Carlos that BĂ©renger has visited. “Turn your location off. Don’t use the same road twice. His reach is far. Be careful.”
Your mind is reeling. Should you call him or wait for him to call you? If he does call you, should you lie? Pretend you don’t know anything and then buy a plane ticket with your own money? How would you even get to the airport without the guards? If you leave now, you’ll lose all your modelling jobs. Everything you’d been working hard for. Your dreams, you’d be throwing your dreams down the drain.
The phone rings, and you see his name on your screen. Your hands shake as you answer the phone. You don’t hear anything and can’t even speak. “¿Mi amor?” He asks through the phone, sounding just so innocent. ‘My love’. Are you really his love or just something he owns? Like some watch he’s crazy about.
You go to speak, but your throat fails you. Sobs echo through the hotel room. “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s going on? Talk to me.” Your tears become more, he was so perfect. Too perfect. “What did you do?” Your voice is just above a whisper but you can hear him shift on the other end.
He chuckles, thinking it’s some sort of prank. “What are you talking about? Don’t mess with me now. You didn’t call me back yesterday. I was worried sick.” Each of his words are like knifes into your heart. “BĂ©renger told me everything.” It’s such a struggle to even speak. “And you believe him?” He doesn’t even ask what BĂ©renger told you. It just confirms it more to you.
“He showed me the photos, Carlos.” You can hear him curse in Spanish on the other side. “Carlos, I loved you, how could you do this to me?” You pull your legs close to your chest, some sort of protection. It doesn’t stop your heart pounding. “And you still do. You still love me, don’t you mi amor? You told me, I’d never get in trouble with you.”
You scoff at his pleas. “That’s before I found out that you paid my parents to disown me!” He scoffs the same as you had. “You say that as if you loved them because they didn’t love you. Think about it, mi amor, they took the money, didn’t they? If they loved you they would’ve kicked me out there and then. But they didn’t.”
He’s right. Who would be so evil as to give up their own daughter, just like that? Clearly, you never really meant much to them. Why are you caring now? He must sense you coming to this realisation.
“I did it for you. I hate the way they made you feel. Weren’t they so cruel? They would hurt you over and over and I couldn’t stand it. Shouldn’t my love be a good enough reason?”
Another cry courses through you. It’s quiet for quite a bit, just the sound of your crying. You can hear the shuffling before he speaks. “We’re hoping on the plane now. Don’t go anywhere.” This just makes your cries worse. “No, no, please. You can keep everything. The car, the jewels, the clothes anything. Just, please don’t hurt me. Or my family.”
You can hear his footsteps stop. “No, no, mi amor. You know I’d never hurt you. Don’t you?” You don’t say anything, you can’t. You’re shaking and your cries become too much. “Don’t do anything rash. We’ll be there tomorrow.” You throw the phone across the bed, wanting to be as far away as possible from it.
Without even thinking, you throw open the door and face your bodyguards. They don’t even turn to you. “Who are you two loyal to? Me or Carlos?” They don’t say anything, like always. You pluck on Otis’ sleeve, he’s shorter and you’ve him smile
once but once is enough for you to reach out. “If Carlos comes for me, trying to take me, who will you go with?”
You can see him gulp and his face soften. “Carlos will not hurt you.” His words are soft and it’s the first time either of them has spoken of you. You scoff and jump on the balls of your feet.
“Answer the question.” You can see he bites his tongue. “We are paid to protect you, from everyone. But also to report everything you do to Carlos.” It’s Brutis who speaks, you both seem shocked.
“Thank you,” it’s all you say before closing the door. You grab your phone again and call your assistant slash publicist slash just about everything. “Y/N, hello beautiful, what can I do for you?” Her voice is always chirpy but it quickly changes when you ask her what would happen if you didn’t show up to any of your shows.
She chuckles, clearly incredibly nervous by your sudden change of heart. “You’d be blacklisted. Not showing up to Dior? As the opener? Yeah, word will spread and you won’t get another runway job again. Why do you ask?” You can hear her panic about her job. “I signed an NDA.” It’s all you say, you don’t want anyone else’s life being ruined.
You sit back down on the bed. Now you need to think clearly. Why exactly is your brother telling you all this? It can’t be to protect you, because if that was the case then he would’ve done exactly as Carlos said. If he really did care about you, he would’ve tried harder.
BĂ©renger would’ve told him no, beat Carlos’ ass. But he didn’t, so clearly he doesn’t care too much about you.
So why did he bring this to you? Why else but to hurt you and your relationship. Force a break between you and Carlos. To make sure to ruin your connection with him, so that you’d lose the love of your life. Not only that, but you lose everything. Your new family, the Sainz, your new friends, Alex and Kika, and your career.
You’ve dreamed of tomorrow all your life. To walk down that runway, with all those cameras flashing and people screaming. Your wildest dream was walking for someone like Dior. As a little child, you’d wear your mother’s clothes and put on a little runway show for your siblings. It was one of the few times they’d show some sort of interest.
When you were cooking, you’d always imagine being on a show. Explaining in great detail what you're making and people would love it. People would love you. That’s what you’ve always wanted if you really think about it. To be adored and obsessed over. And that’s what Carlos has given you. He’s given you a world where this is a reality.
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You peek behind the curtain and look at all those seats. Then you look at the window outside and see the incredibly long line of people. Much more than the seats put out. An hour. One whole hour before you walk the runway for the very first time. Now just any runway, the Christian Dior runway.
Yes, you spend weeks practising your model walk. You’ve rehearsed this runway three times now. Your outfit is perfect, your hair is perfect, all you’re waiting for now is makeup, jewellery and touch ups. But you can feel your heart in your ears. Yes, you’ve wanted this all your life but now that it’s here, you feel like throwing up.
All those people, watching your every move. They’ll know if you’re breathing too heavily, if you're walking too fast, you’re certain that they can smell fear. And boy are you scared. What if you slip and fall. Then again, Naomi Campbell fell on the runway and that became an iconic moment. But are you as iconic as her? Could you ever live up to her?
What if you sneeze and the whole dress bursts open? What if the dress just falls apart as you walk, leaving you naked for everyone to see? You’d be the laughingstock of the model world. Never again seen on the runway, doomed to forever be remembered as the girl whose dress fell apart. Or the girl who was far too unprofessional for the runway.
“Are you okay?” The makeup artist’s voice snaps you out of your hyperventilation. Your thoughts are torn between two very important things. But really they come together for one big thing, your future. And one question affects both things. Do you still want to be with Carlos? “Yeah, sorry. My mind is just all over the place. Very nervous, my first show.” You shrug and she smiles.
“What usually helps when you're nervous?” His name instantly pops into your mind. “My fiancĂ©. He’s always been my rock.” There hasn’t been a moment since you met him that he hasn’t been there for you. If that’s due to an obsession or love, does it really matter? What really is the difference? What if love isn’t enough for you?
Your parents claimed to love you. Your friends claimed to love you. You claimed to love your job. But all three of those are lost at just the mention of money. Not Carlos. To him, money wasn’t even an object. He didn’t care if you got your new shoes dirty or never wore something his money bought. Because to him, there’s always more money but not more of you.
“Speaking of
” the make-up artist’s eyes glance to one of the side entrances. His hair is always something you notice first. You hope he never loses it, even if he goes completely grey. Then it’s the crinkle in his brow, he’s always so worried. Then the way his eyes scan the room, always looking for you. It’s not that he always wants you by his side, it’s just that he wants you safe.
He’s by your side before you can even blink. His hands fit into yours, and like always you reach for the other. “Mi amor, please let me explain.” He’s down on his knees, opening himself up to vulnerability. So many people here could take a photo at any time. But he doesn’t care, he just thinks about you and keeping you.
“Carlos, I can’t do this.” His eyes go big and he shakes his head. “No, no please mi amor. I love you, I can’t lose you. I know some actions to protect you might have been a bit
 unorthodox but it all came out of love.” You chuckle and kiss his forehead. “I know and you’re right. Good riddance, I mean. If they gave me up that easily, for that little amount, then I’m better off without them.”
His face lights up and he gives you his charming smile. “You mean it?” You nod and smile, “What I can’t do, is this show. Ask Ava here, I’ve been hyperventilating this whole time. I’m sure she’s so annoyed with me.” The girl gives an uncomfortable chuckle, likely more worried about her job than yours.
He stands up and rubs your shoulders. “Don’t worry, handle it like you do the paparazzi. Because you handle it better than any celebrity that I’ve ever seen.” He holds back your hair, keeping it out of Ava’s way, still gentle enough not to ruin the style. You laugh, it feels like so long ago now, your first real encounter with fans.
“Will you be watching?” “Of course, imagine it’s just me in the audience. Just you and me.”
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“Carlos Sainz VĂĄzquez de Castro Junior, ÂĄven aquĂ­ ahora mismo o llamarĂ© a tu padre! Quieres decepcionar a papĂĄ? Porque si lo haces no podrĂĄs venir mĂĄs a las carreras.” I can’t help but laugh, hearing my wife scold my eldest.
He’s likely run off again trying to find me or Lando or even Charles. It’s nice to hear her speak Spanish. As soon as we found out she was pregnant, she began learning immediately. And she picked it up quick.
“I am shaking in my boots.” Her eyes shine seeing me. Clearly, she’s tired, but still, she is glowing. “Papa!” The little man runs up to me at full speed. His Ferrari shirt is still too big for him at four. But he does insist he’s a big many and doesn’t need the baby sizes. “Are you being naughty? Didn’t I say we must always listen to Mama?”
His wide smile falls, “I’m sorry, papa,” I hate seeing him upset like this. But he does need to know that what she says goes. “You know what they say, happy wife happy life.” Charles comes up behind me, tickling Junior making him cry out in giggles. He then greets Y/N and picks up one of the twins. Also tickling his feet as the other is as always perched on my wife’s hip.
“Aw man, this is why I love the Spanish GP so much,” Charles comments and I can hear my beautiful wife laugh again. “What? To admire my family?” He nods with a smile, “You know it.” I can’t help but shake my head. “Ai, no, get your own.” Charles just rolls his eyes at my shenanigans before he is called away.
I place Junior down, telling him to sit tight. I then bend down and rub her swollen belly. “How are you, mi amor? How is our girl treating you?” She sighs and her fingers find my hair.
“She’s much nicer to me than these two were. But you know how it is when we get to the eight month mark.” I coo and kiss her head. I love seeing her swollen like this. Hands full with our children, in the role I have chosen for her.
“What’s on your mind?” She’s so warm and I just can’t keep anything from her. When she wasn’t pregnant it was hard to say no. Now, it’s basically impossible. “I think I should retire
” Her brows furrow and her bottom lip pops out. It’s no wonder where Junior gets it from. “I have a championship behind my back and this year is looking like another
”
She shrugs and then nods, “You’re his hero, you know? I just don’t want to break that bubble for him.” I sigh, placing my head on her round stomach. The baby kicks my chin and I can’t help but chuckle. “I’m 38, mi amor, my contract ends this year. I don’t want to miss more of my kids growing up.” She holds my face in her hands, this is what I imagine heaven would be like.
“I’ll support you all the way.” I nod and give her a kiss. She pulls Elija, the youngest closer to her. They’re just over a year old. “Look who’s the main breadwinner now.” Elija just babbles on as a reply. This is more than enough for me.
She’s mine, all mine. Three beautiful kids with one on the way. A championship to my name. There is nothing else I could want.
The End.
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I just want to quickly add, that this story was written before the Epstein list came out. If the mention of Noami Campbell is too much, please, please tell me so, so that I can delete the mention of her immediately. But like,,,, I'm just a girl and idk what to do đŸ€· please tell me what to do😭 Okay, love you bye <3
95 notes · View notes
justjams2003 · 2 months
Text
Fast Pace- 14
I'd just like to thank @multi-universe21 for the Spanish Translations for these last two chapters.
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smut (Actually this time!!), sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, i guess Instagram posts?? Tell me if I missed any
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen @formulaal
Word count: 3,4k
Masterlist
Part 13 ~Part 15 (coming soon)
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Glamour 
“Y/N Y/S/N; the new ambassador for Armani Beauty.”  
Elle Magazine 
“Y/N Y/S/N looks simply gorgeous in the new Armani Beauty: My Way perfume ad.”  
Vogue Magazine 
“Y/N Y/S/N puts new handbag brand DeMellier on the map with a stunning ad.”  
Us Weekly 
“Does Y/N Y/S/N deserve her new found fame, or has it been sped up by boyfriend Carlos Sainz?”  
Us Weekly 
“Y/N Y/S/N’s fame has skyrocketed in the past view months, going from a mere 200 followers to 2 million in 3 months.”  
E!News 
“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend seen in Madrid. Her Instagram shows them moving in together.”  
Y/N’s_username  05 October 2023 
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Liked by: CarlosSainz55, Charles_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes and 556,794 more.  Caption: What more could a girl ask for? The perfect birthday, the perfect boyfriend and the perfect life. 24 Years but this one has been the best, all thanks to you, Mon amour. 💘  Tagged: CarlosSainz55   Comments:   CarlosSainz55: So much love for you Mi amor, happy birthday 💝 
Charles_Leclerc: Happy Birthday Y/N, you make Carlos so happy.  
Charles_Leclerc: P.s. Carlos, you’re setting the bar too high.  
Alexandrasaintmleux: Happy Birthday, gorgeous! 💕 
Francisca.cgomes: Happy Birthday, you amazing girl! So happy to have you part of the wags. To so many more get aways during those boring media days. 👀💖💖 
Username1: Y/N’s getting that princess treatment👀  Username2: Is it princess treatment or is she getting that sugar baby money?  Username1: No way, look at them! They’re in love.   Username2: What I can’t look past is that age gap👀 
Username3: The nicknames they have for each other? When is it my turn😭 
Username4: That’s a ten year age gap! That’s not right.   Username5: I think it’s hot. 
Username5: Someone play Lana Del Rey. 
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Y/N’susername  13 November 2023
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Liked by: CarlosSainz55, Charles_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, LandoNorris and 493,618 more.  Sun, beach and the love of my life.   Tagged: CarlosSainz55  
Comments: 
CarlosSainz55: What more could I want?  
Username1: Dead. She’s killed us all.  
Username2: I’d love to be those rocks. Lurking.  
Username3: She’s living my dream life 😭 
Comments have been limited.  
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F1News 
“Carlos Sainz’s car is wrecked after driving over manhole cover.”  
F1News 
“Carlos Sainz receives penalty after having to replace his Chassis.”  
F1News 
“People are enraged after Carlos Sainz’s got recked during the train wreck that is the Las Vegas GP.”  
Your heart is pounding as the loud bang rings through the entire paddock. You hadn’t been watching the practice, you’d been enjoying a drink with Alex. It is Las Vegas after all, you’re there more to party than to watch the race. But the sound has you disregarding the drink entirely. Your eyes scan all over the hospitality, trying to find a tv or something to see what happened.  
But when you do see that classic red Ferrar with the stripped 55 painted on illuminate in a huge cloud of sparks, your heart sinks into your shoes. That’s a lot more than normal, not to mention the sound has you panicking. You run through the hospitality sector all the way to the garage, right in time to see him box.  
Carlos doesn’t climb out instantly, he just sits there in the seat, his head lulled back on the headrest. It makes your heart race even more. He said on the coms that he’s okay, but this isn’t much of a good sign. You can hear Caco in his hears telling me that he’s okay and everything will be alright. But, it’s not the same.   
Eventually though, he does climb out. Slowly at that, each of his movements happen at a snail’s pace. Even with his helmet off, he doesn’t instantly find you. He just kind of stands there, still in shock. So instead, you find him. Not caring for the engineers. You wrap your arms tightly around him, he weighs heavy in your arms as if he’s leaning all your weight on him.  
“Are you okay? You scared me half to death.” He lets out an airy chuckle. “I’m sorry, mi futura esposa, I’m sorry.” Carlos’ voice is just as heavy as him. “What happened?” Caco comes next to you, more worried for his cousin than the formula one driver. Carlos sighs, his arm still wrapped around your waist, with you close by his side.  
“I don’t know. I hit something on the road and all of the suddenly I couldn’t feel my legs and all I saw were sparks.” His eyes seem more scared than usual. “Come on, we’ll go get you checked out.” He agrees with you. 
 “The engineers say the car is fucked. Completely shred the floor, your seat was exposed to the track. They say you’re incredibly lucky that you made it out unscathed.” Caco reports to Carlos while he’s being checked by the doctor. Carlos’ eyes finds your form when Caco says he’s luckily. “They say you won’t be able to drive fp3.”  
The driver sighs and just nods, he hasn’t let go of your hand but refuses to meet your eyes. “Carlos, you seem more shaken up than usual.” You rub circles on his back after the doctor cleared him and told him to rest. The driver again sighs, “I don’t know what it is. I couldn’t feel or control my legs and it scared me. I couldn’t control the car and all I could think about was you.”  
Now finally his eyes peer into yours. You can see tears on the back of his eyes. Fear and worry all mix into one. You coo and pull him closer to you. “All I could was what if I become paralyzed? I can’t provide for you anymore. I’d rather have died than have you see me like that.” You have to stifle a laugh because to you it seems almost silly.  
You pull his head against your chest, wrapping your arms around him and your fingers deep into his locks. “Don’t you remember, Carlos? We’re more than just money now. We've talked about it before, marriage, kids, the whole thing. You know I’d be with you, even if you were on the streets. It seems that crash really did a number on you.” You ruffle his hair with your fist, forcing his giggles out.  
“This is so fucking stupid!” His voice booms through the garage. People run to hide, trying not to be on the receiving end of Carlos’ anger. Or even worse, make him even angrier. Not you, you sit right where you are. Everything in you wants to go and comfort him, but you know that’ll only make it worse, he hates it when you see him angry. He says it’s not for you, you should only see him angry, when you want him angry. He’ll find you when he’s ready. 
Not this time. He finds you, in the middle of taking photos with you assistant. Carlos grabs you by the arm and begins to drag you. “Come.” It’s all he says and you’re struggling to keep up with his pace. “Carlos, what happened?” He doesn’t say a word but soon enough you hear the door slam shut. Your back is shoved up against the same door with the same aggression that it was slammed shut.  
Carlos’ lips attack yours with a vigour. While yes it’s true that ever since you kissed him at the Singapore Grand Prix, its been hard to keep his lips off you, it’s never been this assertory. He’s pressed his body hard against yours. His tongue is roaming your mouth. His hands wander about your body, until it starts creeping up your shirt. It’s as if he’s trying to become you, fore himself into your shoes. That’s when it has to stop.  
With a gentle push against his chest, and the call out of his name, he stops. His brows pulled together, fury still sharp in his eyes, but not towards you. “Carlos, I know this isn’t how you planned this. I won’t mind, but I don’t want you to jump the gun just because you’re upset.” His gaze goes softer before he pulls you in for the tightest hug.  
His head is in the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry, mi futura esposa, it’s just such bullshit.” There is that nickname again, he forbade you from googling it. “What is?” He sighs and then lets go of you. He takes off his hat and rakes it through his hair, all while taking a seat on the couch. “Ten place grid penalty. After I would’ve been in second.”  
Carlos looks so beat up, completely hopeless and you just want to take away all his hurt. Even feeling the need to cry for him. This has been a great year for him, and now such nonsense. “I’m sorry, Mon Amour. You’re right, it’s not fair. It’s their fault, can’t you appeal?” He nods but still with a puff of air. “We are appealing, but it’s unlikely that it’ll change.”  
You push out your bottom lip, he chuckles at your reaction. “Come with, I’m sure your pout will make them change their mind.” He pulls you closer by the waist and rests his head on your stomach. Clearly he’s exhausted. Your hands rake through his hair, hoping it helps even just a little. “Carlos?” He doesn’t even bother to raise his head, but he does hum in reply.  
“You promised you’d go clubbing with me, but I don’t want you to go if you’re too tired.” He raises his head and then shakes it no. “Don’t worry, mi futura esposa, it’ll help be burn off some steam.” It warms your heart that he always does so much for you. “You mean it?” He stands up, and gives you a peck on the lips. “Of course, mi futura esposa, you can wear that new necklace I got you.”  
Sweaty bodies push against the other. You don’t notice, because only one body is touching yours. Carlos’ hands are on your hips as you move to the rhythm. He’s got his shirt buttoned down low, and he just looks so delectable. As if he should be the perfume model between the two of you. You can tell he’s already starting to feel better.  
Neither of you have really drunk anything, you’re just high on each other. Enjoying the other’s touch and the music. Soon though, the few mocktails you had catch up to you, Carlos waits outside the bathroom. You can still hear the music, but it doesn’t thud as loud. You can finally her your own thoughts and someone calling your name.  
Only to turn around and see Jasmine and Ilsa. They both greet you with smiles, “Y/N, what are you doing here?” They ask, wanting to go in for a hug but you just give them the cold shoulder. “It’s the Las Vegas Grand Prix, why else would I be here? Better question, why are you two here.” Their smiles falter just a bit.  
“We’re on a girls trip. We wanted to invite you, but you blocked us on everything...” Jas explains, you don’t remember doing that. Maybe Carlos did, he does have access to everything after all. If he decided to block them, then it’s the better option. You haven’t missed them one bit, after all you rarely saw them anymore.  
You cross your arms, “You planned a girls trip to Las Vegas, on the weekend of the GP and didn’t expect to see me? Strange coincidence huh?” They grimace at your words. “Did Carlos buy you that?” It’s Ilsa this time, her words are more sour. You touch the diamond necklace sitting comfortably on your neck and nod.  
“It was a birthday present.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “No, Y/N, it was the cost of your family. You’ve sold off every sign of yourself just for the glamourous life.” Her words are sharp like the diamonds you’re wearing. But what does she know? Never before have you been happier. You have nothing to worry about.  
Your assistant books your modelling jobs, takes your photos, makes the videos. Carlos takes you everywhere with him, and you don’t even have to plan a single thing. You haven’t thought about money or the cost of something in months. Not to mention you’re healthier than ever. You haven’t gotten sick this whole time and your confidence has sky-rocketed. And all you really have to do in return is be yourself.   
“Really? Is that how you see it?” She glares you down for your words. “It’s true though, isn’t it? You gave up us, your family, your future and passion for cheffing. All for what? Some diamonds and dick?” What? Is that really something she just said? Losing them was clearly the better thing to do.  
“If you guys had really known me, you would’ve known that cheffing has never been my true passion, so clearly giving you and that up was the better choice. And I haven’t lost a family, I’ve gained a better one. Because the Sainz has welcomed me with open arms and have treated me better than those fuckers ever did. So excuse me for living a happy life, and not choosing to suffer like you lot!”  
Us Weekly 
“Y/N Y/S/N says she has met her idol after talking with Madeleine White at Las Vegas GP.”  
Us Weekly 
“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend seen blowing off steam after horrible first practice.” 
Glamour Magazine 
“People are shocked as Y/N Y/S/N is seen wearing $300k worth in diamonds, sources states it’s one of her many birthday presents.”  
Gossip Magazine 
“Y/N Y/S/N’s party looks this Las Vegas Grand Prix: 
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Y/N’susername  9 December 2023 
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Liked by CarlosSainz55, landonorris, charles_leclerc and 539,072 more  It is such an honour that Dior allowed me to wear one of their vintage dresses. Much more to come between us. So proud of Mon amour for all that he has accomplished this year. Next year will be our year, Ferrari. 😘  Tagged: CarlosSainz55 
Comments: 
CarlosSainz55: So honoured to call you mine. You looked gorgeous, mi amour.  
CarlosSainz55: Also you promised you wouldn’t post that last picture😭  Y/N’susername: But you look so cuteđŸ˜«   Y/N’susername: Not to mention, I need to give the people what they want! 
Charles_Leclerc: These two were inseparableđŸ€šÂ 
LandoNorris: Y/N, you’re taking my spot 😭  Y/N’susername: Don’t worry, he still talks about you all the time.  LandoNorris: That’s not enough😭 
Username1: Mother is mothering.  
Username2: That caption can’t mean nothing👀  Username1: Mother is a mastermind...  
Username3: Y/N x Dior coming soon??  
Comments have been limited.
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CarlosSainz55  26 December 2023
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Liked by Y/N’susername, LandoNorris, Charlec_Leclerc and 639,706 more  Our first Christmas together and I loved every second of it. Missing the racing, missing the fans. Can’t help but feel loved.   Tagged: Y/N’susername  
Comments: 
Y/N’susername: 💖💖 
Y/N’susername: Hope you enjoy your present😘 
Username1: Missing F1 so much😭 
Username2: Damn...Carlos got himself a baddy👀 
Username3: No one cares about her, we just want more Ferrari!  CarlosSainz55: If you care about me, you have to care about her.   All replies have been deleted.    
Y/N’susername  26 December 2023
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Liked by CarlosSainz55, Charles_Leclerc, Alexandrasaintmleux, francisca.cgomes, LandoNorris and 497,309 more  It’s a nice car and all but all I really wanted for Christmas, is you😘  tagged: CarlosSainz55  
CarlosSainz55: But the car was a pretty good present, wasn’t it?  Y/N’susername: I won’t lie, I love it so much😍 
Alexandrasaintmleux: How did you get Carlos to do the last photo? 😆  Y/N’susername: He does just about anything I ask đŸ€·đŸ˜Â 
LandoNorris: Damn, Carlos, she has you whipped 😆  Y/N’susername: You know it😉  CarlosSainz55: Who wouldn’t be😍 
Comments have been limited.  
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The sun is blazing down on you, you’ve gotten a much more golden colour since you’ve been with Carlos. Even so, he insists that he wears sunscreen. Not that he needs the sun. As he stands now, chiselled and defined, glowing like a hot flame, he’s the perfect advertisement for Spain and lust.  
Lust especially, when he looks at you as he does now. He hasn’t looked away from you for the past few minutes now. Carlos is drinking up every inch of your form. Soon enough, his trance is broken as he makes his way to you. His hand follows the curve of your leg all the way to your middle.  
“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?” He whispers into your ear, handing you the mojito he had just made for you. You hum, “Only in passing, but never in enough detail.” He chuckles but then looks so giddy. “Let me make that right then.” He takes your free hand and places a kiss on your knuckles.  
“I’d like to think your beauty surpasses that of any other. The Greek statues in Athens, we’re all modelled after you. But none of them achieved, because they haven’t truly captured you. The statues do not smile, they do not laugh, they do not love me the way you do.” His words are like sweet melodies, but like said before, it’s much more detailed than before.  
But the reason for it is revealed, when from his swim shorts he pulls out a velvet red box, now you really notice than he is down on one knee. The tears pool in your eyes. “This might seem crazy, and I know it’s only been six months, but you told me yourself you like a fast pace.” A chuckle escapes the both of and you can see happy tears in his eyes.  
“I’m crazy about you, absolutely obsessed. You’ve changed me, changed the way I think, forever, and I can only imagine the man I’ll be if we spend forever together. So, will you become mi futura esposa and marry me?” The answer slips out before a thought even makes it way through you. “Yes. Yes, of course, yes.”  
He slips the ring over your finger, not fast enough for your lips to find each other. His passion is even more than the night in Vegas. So, so much more. But this time, it’s filled with so much loved. Placed intention of showing you that you won’t regret this decision. Before you know it, his arms are under your legs and he places you on the only bed in the yacht.  
Carlos’ lips are all over your body. His hands expertly slip your bikini from your body. “Joder, nena, he esperado tanto para esto.” He says in between kisses, his lips leaving marks wherever he goes. Before long, his hands cup around your boobs. He pulls and plucks, sparks of pleasure roll over you. “English, Carlos.”  
He chuckles and shakes his head, “No, no mi prometida, my brain can’t translate now.” You laugh but it quickly turns into a moan when he cups your groan. His fingers find your clit within an instant. He has you moaning and begging his name quite easily. Luckily for you, you’re in the middle of the ocean and can be as loud as you want.  
“Hmm, nena, quiero, quiero, taste you. But, no puedo esperar más, need to be inside you.” His tongue is struggling to keep up with his mind. His languages mixing into one big mix because you’re the only thing he can focus on. It doesn’t help that each time he rolls his r it makes you even wetter than he already has you.  
He slides his swim shorts off, and your eyes go big at his sheer size. You’d eye him in race suit before, but it’s nothing compared to the real thing. But his lips swallow your worries. “No te preocupes, cariño, you can take me, I’ll be gentle.” He lines himself up with you, then holds onto you shoulders and guides himself inside you.  
It’s as if you fit together like puzzle pieces. Yes, it does burn at first, but complying with your pleas, he begins to moves. A slow gentle pace, te sientes tan bien, mi amor,” he comforts by your ear. Whispering praises, “You’re so tight,” along with his kisses and nibbles. He has you in the seventh heaven.  
All you can feel is him buried deep inside you, along with his gentle touches and longing kisses. All you can smell is him, he doesn’t smell like burnt tired anymore. No, he smells like the ocean and the new perfume you got him for Christmas. All you can hear is his praises, him whisper about your wet self and how you’re his. “Mine, only mine.”  
Soon enough, the knot in your stomach makes itself known. And he too, begins to increase his speed. In a sudden and rapid rise, you both reach your climax. Maybe you sooner than him, but there is little control or judgement now. All that there is love for the other. And the bliss of finally be able to feel his body warm in yours.  
What could possibly ruin this?
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Lemme just say, this chapter and the next took forever to make, just because of all the Instagram posts. Just a props for all the fic authors who do this as their primary works. So nervous for the feedback on the Instagram posts, I've never done them before!
Also, shameless plug for my Landing: @CreativeRobot_
If you want to be added to the taglist, just ask!
Although there is only one chapter left...
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justjams2003 · 3 months
Text
Fast Pace- 13
Am I being mean by releasing the last 3 chapters week for week? Maybe just a bit đŸ€­
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, a garbage family, family trauma, disowning, tell me if I missed any
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen
Word count: 3,2k
Masterlist
Part 12 ~Part 14 (coming soon)
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“Elle dort profondĂ©ment, la journĂ©e a Ă©tĂ© longue.” Y/N’s brother and parents both look up at me in shock. I can’t help but laugh at their expressions. We’ve been here three days and if it weren’t for her family, it would be idyllic.
We’ve gone hiking in the beautiful mountains, she’s shown me all around her hometown. She has so many memories here, a lot of them good, but when I hear the things her mother says to her, I can’t but wonder if she’s sugar coating some of it.  
“What? You didn’t think that me, a million-dollar man who travels the world every day, with a French teammate, wouldn’t speak French? Not even a little?” I can only sigh at their foolishness; I see now why my sweet girl is so easy to...shape. Luckily for her, she has me and no one would dare hurt her with me around. Her family, however, after what I’ve seen they don’t get the same lenience.  
 I sit down on the table, “Tell me, how much do you want?” If I was some old-timey villain I would take out my checkbook and write some obscure numbers with lots of zeros. Her brother furrows his brows, “How much of what?”
I chuckle, I thought at least he would be smarter, I guess not. “Money. How much do you want to never speak to Y/N ever again?” Her mother scoffs and begins rambling about just how important she is to her.  
“Look, you’re a terrible influence on my precious girl. You make her feel terrible about herself after I spent all that time convincing her otherwise. Now, we can do as normal families do and only see each other on the holidays. Even then, it’s going be exhausting for her. So, why don’t we just take a short cut? How much money for you to kick her out of your life, permanently?” Her brother looks appalled and disgusted.  
His fist goes to find my jaw, but I catch his hand before he even comes close. “Be serious, you might be a rough and tough city farm boy, but I’ve spent years of my life practising my reflexes.” I take him by his shoulders and shove him back down in his chair. “How much will it be, mom, dad? Fifty thousand, a hundred thousand, or shall we go into the millions?” Everyone goes quiet at the numbers I’m talking of.  
“See? That wasn’t so hard? Now, Cash or Card?”  
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“They’re so unbelievable! You know what, no, I’m glad that they did this. She’s been nothing but a cruel bitch all my life. Now that I’m happy, she hates it.” She screams into the phone, she’s standing next to the bathroom trying to get some distance from other people.
“No, I don’t care if they’re my family, who says that to someone?” She scoffs, likely she’s talking to Jasmine and Ilsa, I know Alex and Kika would defend me.  
She’s angry, a wrinkle in a brow and I just want to make it all go away. Maybe even, I’ll have to get rid of those two friends as well. They’re not good for her either. “I know I’ve only known him for a month and a half, but it’s been the best few weeks of my life! It’s been better than anything I’ve had with that fucked family of mine. And the fact that you two can’t see that, really shows me something about you two.”  
Her footsteps are loud on the floor of the plane. She throws her phone on the seat and plops herself down in my lap. Instantly her head finds the crook of my neck and her small hand takes fists full of my shirt. She pulls me as close as possible to me and wrap my arms around her. This is where she belongs, nowhere else but in my arms.  
 Her whole-body shakes as sobs make its way through her. “No te preocupes, mi dulce niña. Estoy aquĂ­ para ti. No importan, sĂłlo estamos tĂș y yo. Just you and me. You have me now, you don’t need them.” I soothe her cries, rubbing circles on her back as she mumbles on about how awful they are and how evil they’re being.
I know it’s better for her in the long run, but it hurts my heart to see her like this. Hurting. At the same time, having her cling to me as if I am her lifeline is a feeling I can’t help but savour.  
“Carlos, where are we going?” A sigh escapes me. “Singapore, for the next race. But I have to talk to you about it.” She raises her head; she has these big doe eyes that has this melting effect on me. Yet at the same time, it makes the khaki’s I’m wearing tighter than I’d like it to be. “This is going to be the hardest race of the year. For the rest of the week until at least Friday, I’m going to be very busy with very hard training.”  
I know for a fact that this is the worst time possible to leave her alone. Right now, I need to be with her every moment. She has to be with me and no one else otherwise my whole plan will be for nothing. I have to be the only one comforting her, if not she’ll think that she can rely on others. My sweet thing whines at the realisation and goes to hide her face again but I stop her before she does.  
“I know, I’m sorry. But, I really don’t want to leave mi dulce niña alone, no?” She shakes her head, wiping her tears with the same hoodie I’d given her at the very beginning. I might have blasted the AC, just to see her wear it again. I know it gives her comfort and she just looks like a doll with it on. So small and so cute, I feel as if the love is oozing from my heart.  
“Now, we have one of two options. It’s not too late, we can still turn this plane around. Get you a nice, big apartment somewhere in France.” She stops me before I can even continues.
“No, I don’t ever want to see that damn country ever again. What if I see one of them again? I’d much rather live on the streets.” I can’t help but smirk, taking her small hands into mine.  
“I thought so. What about somewhere in Madrid? Why don’t you move in with me?” Her eyes go even bigger and bites down on that puffy lower lip of hers. I adjust her to sit on my other leg, the friction between us making me rock hard. Soon after, her eyes avoid mine. Her eyebrows pull together and I can’t help but reach up and smooth the crinkle in her forehead. 
So much seems to be running through her mind, and it shouldn’t be. Things should be easy for her, look pretty and be my pet. That should be the end of it. But this world can be so heartless and make the important people in our lives hurt. “Tell me, mi niña bonita, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”  
She sighs and then gives me those big doe eyes again. This time they’re all puffy from crying, and she looks just as beautiful as the day I met her. “Daddy, I don’t want to leave your side.”
Her words are like lava through my body. I take her chin and give her a kiss on her cheek. “I know, baby, but what other option is there? Follow me everywhere I go? You’ll get bored, I’m sure.” She doesn’t hesitate and shakes her head.  
“No, no, I promise. I’ll be good.” This would be more perfect than any other option. Having her by my side for the whole world to see. “I don’t know, cosas dulce,” it’s mostly just an act, I want her to beg. “Please Daddy, please?” She jumps ever so slightly on my lap and I can’t help but holding her waist to keep her still, not knowing how much longer I can hold out. Especially when she’s like this.  
Y/N takes her small hands and hold my face. Then she places a kiss on my cheek, then the other. I take her petite hands in mind. “Oh, alright, but no whining missy.” I hold out my hand, showing how stern I am. But she wraps her fingers around mine and gives me the biggest brightest smile. “You know I can’t say no to you.”  
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“Carlos?” I had just finished pretty extensive training for the race. The whole gym room’s heat is all the way up to 30 Degrees Celsius, sweat is dripping off me. My hair is wet, luckily my girl gave me one of her headbands to keep my hair out of my face.
I could see her eyeing me the whole time. I couldn’t bare the heat much long, and just had to take my shirt of. Or maybe it was tactical to get her attention, nobody will ever know.  
“Yes, mi querido?” She gets up from her seat, discarding her phone which she had been so engulfed in before. Her hips sway, she too is sweating and is wearing the smallest little shorts I’ve seen in a while. It entrances me, every time she walks, the way her legs move. The way those tiny shorts sits a way below her naval. Showing off what all the boys are missing out on.  
Y/N makes her way over to me, her fingers dancing on my shoulder. “No, mi cosa bonita, you don’t want to touch me. I’m sweaty and smelly.” She scoffs and wraps her arms around my neck. “You’re saying that like I care.” I can’t help but chuckle at her attitude. Yes, last week changed her, but so far it’s for the better. My hands find her hips, “You’ve been looking so good lately, cosas dulce.”  
Her laugh alights my whole body. “You’ve been using that one a lot lately, I’ll have to google it,” I pretend to wince at her words. “No, cosas dulce, I might get in trouble.” Now she really does laugh, throwing her head back like she does when she’s comfortable. “Why do you laugh?” She shakes her head, “You, Mister Sainz, could never get in trouble with me. You’ve been nothing but perfect.”  
I pull her closer to me, our hips touching the other. “Is that so? I’ll have to hold you up to that.” I can’t help but place kisses all over her bare neck. “Except right now.” My heart rises and I’m just glad the monitors aren’t on.
Has she found out? No, no it can’t be. If she did, she’d be a lot more upset. Or would she? Would she be happy that I did it? Relief to get rid of them and have them well cared for at the same time. She doesn’t look happy now, but she doesn’t look to upset.  
“I’m scrolling through Instagram, right, only to see an edit about you. Guess my surprise that I found out through an Instagram reel that I missed your birthday!” Oh yes, that, is that really all? I can’t help but laugh at how serious she is. “You didn’t miss it; we did celebrate it.” Her eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?” I love the way her long hair sways to the side when she’s confused.  
“Your fashion show, after the shopping trip. It was more than enough of a present for me. Not to mention you got the sunglasses, with our initials on them.” She scoffs and rolls her eyes.
“You keep calling me hardheaded, but you can be even more dense than me.” I laugh, she can be so complex. Switching from soft and needing to be held one moment, to sassy and chatty the next. I love every moment.  
A hum escapes me, “Aren’t you brave, talking to me like that, cosas dulce?” She ignores my words and carries on. “It doesn’t count as a birthday gift, if I didn’t even know it’s your birthday.” I sigh, seeing now that she’s going to be persistent on this. “That’s why I love it so much. You gave me a gift without even knowing. Call it something poetic, like our souls just knowing, or something simple. Like the kindness you give me that no one else does.”  
She pushes out her bottom lips and her eyes go all big again. “Carlos, that’s really beautiful.” She pulls me down by the neck and gives me a kiss on the cheek. Oh, how I cherish those. I remember each and every one. “But, at least allow me to make you dinner tonight.” I don’t want her going through all the trouble, or making too much of a fuss.  
“Don’t bother, cosas dulce. There’s no point in celebrating. 34 Years and I spent most of them racing, to no avail. A team that fucks me over, another year with no win and still no championship behind my name. And the rookies are getting younger and younger, and better and better. I’m sure I’ll lose my seat in a year or two and after that, it’s retirement for me.”
I didn’t mean to spill out all my thoughts just like that. But when she looks at me with those eyes, I wan’t to tell her everything.  
She cooes and pulls me tight in her arms. “Don’t talk like that. I’m sure you want our kids to see you race at least once.” What? She surprises me again and again. This is good, very good. She’s seeing what I see. Our goals are aligning. Before long I’ll have her all to myself. “You mean it?” Her smile lights up the room and my life.  
“Of course, now give me your card. Brutis, Otis and I are going grocery shopping.” That’s my girl. No longer afraid to ask. “You know where it is, cosas dulce.”  
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I can hear music blasting through the hotel room, along with my girl screaming the lyrics at the top of her lungs, like always. She’s dancing and swaying to the music. Her hips move in ways that entice. But the most attractive thing about her, is that she looks as happy as can be. Pure joy radiates off her like the sun’s rays. Nothing is as beautiful as her delight and I just need to be a part of it.  
I scoop her up in my arms and place her on the first open space on the counter. She breaks out in giggles, “Aren’t I glad you’re feeling better,” she mutters between laughs as I make marks all over her neck and shoulders.
“How can I not with such a beauty in my arms?” She blushes and still giggles as my scruff tickles her. But soon she gently pushes me away, not far, by the chest. Her hands there is like fuel to my engine. Sparking my whole body to keep her here, trapped.
“You’re just in time,” she smiles jumping off and plating the food she had made. “I made Fideuà.” At just the mention, memories of my childhood come rushing back. Big Christmas family dinners, with lots of people. Kids running around, screaming with delight, as people laugh and drink lots of wine. “Ah, mi amor, now you are bringing back some good memories, no?”  
Y/N’s smile is big as she hands me the plate and pours some white wine. The first bite is perfect, the taste of fish explodes in my mouth. After it’s the texture of the pasta and the hint of Saffron.
“Wow, I must say, mi amor, this is as good as Mama’s.” This makes her smile as wide as ever. “Really, you mean it? You’re not lying?” There are some slight differences, but it’s incredibly hard to notice. I shake my head no.  
“It’s almost identical.” She blooms with joy and her cheeks are just so faintly red. “Caco sent me the recipe from your mom.” I should have known. “My, my, already in kahoots with my family.” I pull her into my lap as we both enjoy our dinners. “Speaking of, mi amor, I want you to meet my family. And I know you still feel unsure about moving in with me. But if you meet my parents and see the city...”  
Her gaze is stuck on her dinner as she just moves the shrimp around. “I’ll meet your parents, but I won’t promise you anything.” That’s good enough. That’s more than good enough.  
Xxxx  
There is a blazing heat through the paddock. Everyone is sweating and I can only imagine Carlos must be so uncomfortable in his racing suit. Boiling hot, you can see his hair is sweating but you know he won’t wear his headband in public.
It’s a maybe five minutes until they play the national anthem. Yet still through the flurry of everything and everyone he still makes his way towards where you stand with Caco in the garage.  
He hands you his drink, with the weird tube and everything, clearly given to him by Rupert. “Here, it’s very hot, remember to drink a lot of water.” You sigh and take him by the race suit.
“Carlos. Your race starts in twenty mintues, you shouldn’t be bothering yourself with me.” He clicks his tongue. “Siempre tan testarudo,” you sigh, you’ve googled it before and he says it so much that you know he’s calling you hardheaded.  
“Carlos!” The people call out his name, they could get a penatly if he misses the song. “I’m coming! Caco, asegĂșrate de que bebe mucha agua.” He speaks to his cousin, who agrees. He goes to leave but you grab him by his suit and pull him back. His lips fit perfectly onto yours. He pulls you close by the waist, his other hand rake deep into your hair.  
He kisses you back with such passion. Like a fire lighting between you two. Your soul finally finds rest. You’ve been wanting this for weeks and now you’re finally taking it for yourself. And you can tell by the way he holds you and pulls you closer that this is what he’s wanted. He’s been yearning for it just as much as you have.  
Finally, when there is no air left in your lungs you’re forced to break apart. “I’ll move in with you.” His whole body comes alive with joy. “Really?” His smile is wider than I’ve ever seen before. “Yes really, now go before Ferrari fine me themselves!”  
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Hollywood Life 
“Y/N Y/S/N’s content quality and quality raises, could she have gotten herself a full PR team?” 
Glamour 
“Fans are going crazy as the boost in Y/N Y/S/N’s conent shows new insight on her and her boyfriend Carlos Sainz’s life that’s never been seen before.”  
Page Six 
“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend seem to be attached at the hip.”  
Us Weekly 
“People are freaking out over Carlos Sainz’s post race interview:  ‘The first non-Red Bull win of the season. What would you like to say?’  ‘I’d like to thank my girlfriend. She’s the reason for this trophy. I know I should be thanking the team, but I know they’d much rather have Charles win this. So, this is for her.’ 
E!News 
“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend seen celebrating in a club with Lando Norris as the DJ.” 
People Magazine 
“Fans are swooning after a video of Carlos Sainz winking to his girlfriend on the first place podium surfaces.”  
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My taglist is open, just ask! :)
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justjams2003 · 3 months
Text
Fast Pace- 12
Before we start, I'd just like to wish you all a very happy New Year! Know that there is plenty more to come from me in the coming year. And also thank you all for 420 followers (haha nice), I'm still in shock that people keep coming back and wants more. Believe it or not, this is the most active community and website I have ever written for and I'm so glad to have found Tumblr. Anyways enjoy xoxo
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', nudity, a garbage family, family trauma, disowning, tell me if I missed any
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian @hachrinnen
Word count: 3,1k
Masterlist
Part 11~Part 13 (coming soon)
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“EchantĂ© de voi rencontre, Monsur.” Carlos is trying his best, but at the moment he is butchering your home-tongue. You can’t but be nervous, he however seems as calm as a cucumber about meeting your parents. He’s got the sunglasses on that you gave him. You can see from where your sitting, your initials carved into the side. “No, no, mon cher. Good try, but it’s EnchantĂ© de vous rencontrer, Monsieur.”  
He sighs, rubbing his face in his hands. He looks so much more relaxed already. He’s got short khaki’s on and a casual button up shirt. You’ve hired a more practical car for the week, one with a big trunk. You got your family lots of presents and might have overpacked a bit. Still not used to having such a big amount of money. But even still, you have the sunroof open, enjoying the county side air.  
“I’m sorry, mi querida,” he shakes his head and rakes his fingers through his hair. You can’t help yourself, tucking the stray hairs that fray in the wind behind his ears. “I should’ve gotten a haircut before we came.” He sighs, but you can see that he enjoys your touch. “No, it is the perfect length, don’t change a thing about it.” He gives a side-eye but you can only laugh. “No, it’s in the way.” 
You pout, “No, your hair is just long enough to...grab...” you mutter, taking a handful of hair and pulling on it ever so slightly. Surprisingly, a growl escapes his throat. The noise causes a warmth to spread through your body.
The sunlight hits his skin just beautifully, he looks like hot caramel. Something you want to drizzle into your mouth. You’re sure you could cook a steak on his sizzling skin.  
“This is your home then?” He asks, while caring the bags. He refuses to let you carry a single one. You nod and then knock on the door. “It is a small house for 7 people, no?” He’s not wrong. “Oui, us three girls had to share a room and the boys shared a room.” He grimaces at your words, “Then one day we will have a big house.” You blush at his words and wrap your arms around his, all while subtly taking a photo.  
The door opens, you only now realise how short your mom has gotten. Or maybe it really has been so long. “Ah, ma fille, tu viens enfin rendre visite Ă  ta vieille mĂšre. Cela fait si longtemps et enfin tu ramĂšnes un homme Ă  la maison!” She instantly starts rambling and then opens up her arms and gives Carlos a big hug. “N'es-tu pas si beau? Quel est votre nom et pourquoi ĂȘtes-vous avec ma fille?”  
Carlos looks like a fish out of water. His face is entirly blank and he just seems to be nodding along. “EnchantĂ© de vous rencontrer, Mademoiselle,” he stutters through the French, his Spanish accent still blatantly obvious. Your mother just frowns at his bad French. “He doesn’t speak French.” Her wide smile turns sour, “Pourquoi faire venir un homme inutile qui ne parle pas français?”  
You sigh and then nudge him, “the presents,” you whisper. “Il s'appelle Carlos et il a apportĂ© des cadeaux.” Now she really does smile as he holds up the presents. “Oui, come in, come in.” Like always, he allows you to walk in first.
“What did she say?” He asks to you in a whisper. You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing that you need to worry yourself about.” You give him a kiss on the cheek, trying to soothe his usually worry.  
“Apportez-lui quelque chose Ă  boire, je suis sĂ»r qu'il est fatiguĂ© aprĂšs son trĂšs long voyage.” You sigh, of course she asks that of you. As if you and him didn’t have the same trip. You turn to Carlos after he sat down along with your mother to open her present, that you picked out. 
 “Carlos, what would you like to drink?” He frowns and then stands up. He takes your arm and then leads you to the couch. “You must be tired, mi querido, it was a four-hour trip, I’m sure you are tired.” He leads you to sit down next to him, he pulls you into his side. Everything in you wants to cuddle into his side, but you can feel your mother’s judgemental eyes on you.  
Instead, you shake your head, “My mother insists that I get you something to drink. You did drive after all.” You can see the tick in his jaw, clearly not happy with this. He smiles, forced clearly, “Please tell your mother I don’t need anything to drink.” You sigh and do just so and she replies with some comment insisting you do just that. Yes, you are exhausted but even still you stand and pour him a drink.  
“Je vais lui montrer la chambre.” You grab him by the arm and pull him up towards your old bedroom. Quite ungracefully you fall on your childhood bed. He smirks, but his smile is quick to fall. “Mi dulce niña, does she always make you feel like this?” Carlos asks you give and exhausted laugh. “You don’t even know what she said,” you peak at him, and he pulls you into his lap.  
He kisses your forehead, “Tell me," You sigh and rest you head on his shoulder. “When she met you, she went, ‘you’re so handsome why are you dating my daughter?’ And then she went, ‘you’re so stupid bringing a man that doesn’t even speak French.’ Then after that it was, ‘poor thing he’s so tired bring him something to drink.’ As if I wasn’t on the exact same trip as you!”  
His jaw locks and his arms wrap tighter around you, “Does she always speak to you like that,” you sigh and sink deeper into his arms. “Why do you think I brought you with. Call you my armour,” you laugh, actually hiding behind his arms. He laughs, but it’s the same type of awkward type, “Where is your dad, is he any better?”  
You hum and then walk down the stairs again after taking your breather and then ask your Maman where your father is. “He is outside with your brother, working hard as always,” she says, still in French.
“Really, which one?” You ask, opening the back door, only to see your oldest brother chopping wood while your father carves the same wood right next to him. “BĂ©r!” You call out and once he sees you, he smiles.  
You walk into the back fields, Carlos trailing behind you and when you do finally meet your brother, he gives you a warm hug. “Finally, back in your own country,” he comments, and you can’t help but furrow your brows. “What do you mean?” You ask, you haven’t told anyone about anything. “You think I haven’t noticed? I am not like Mama and Papa who do not own a phone and use the library’s computer to email you.”  
You frown and watch his eyes. They’re train on Carlos who seems to be struggling with the mud and his very expensive shoes. “Traveling the world with mister Armani,” he teases you like always, and you can’t help but step on his shoes. “EnchantĂ©, Monsieur.” Carlos holds out his hand and it makes you and your brother laugh out loud. “Don’t worry, race-man... I am not her father.” You jab your brother in the stomach.  
“But he’s even worse.” He groans and then begins complaining in French but you’re quick to stop him. “Connard, you know Carlos doesn’t speak French, clearly, you’ve been stalking him. So don’t be an ass,” BĂ©renger sighs at your words and then translates for Carlos.
“I was just saying that I you see in your fancy Ferrari and your expensive shoes, no one in the family can understand someone like you being with a dull girl like her.” He shrugs and you both laugh, it’s the way you talk as siblings.  
Even so, Carlos’ expression turns sour. “He much more than that BĂ©renger, now, play nice.” Before you turn to leave to say hello to your father, you ask your brother one last thing. This time in French, because you’d rather not have Carlos know just yet. “How is Papa today?” You brother hesitates, knowing exactly what you’re talking about. “He’s there, like before, no confusion yet today.”  
You nod and make your way over. “Bonjour Papa, I’ve come to visit.” Your father looks up to you, his eyes clear. Not that his personality has changed much, he replies in a gruff tone. “Who’s the boy?” His eyes are like daggers on Carlos.
“He’s my boyfriend,” your dad rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure. And for how long is he going to put up with you?” You laugh, like always keeping the peace. “I’m not some terrible burden. At least, not in his eyes.”  
Like always he just replies with a scoff.  
Before long, you’re washing dishes after dinner. “Mi paloma, please tell your mother the dinner was delicious.” You can feel his big strong arms wrap around your waist. You’re sure he's feeling a bit alone. It’s only been you and your brother here who can even speak English.
You smile, “Thank you, Carlos, but she didn’t make it.” It’s the truth, the whole evening BĂ©renger and Carlos chopped wood, all while you have to take care of your mother’s ever whim, like always.  
It doesn’t bother you; it’s always been like this. But you can tell it’s getting to Carlos. “No wonder I liked it so much, it’s your cooking. But, mi dulce niña, you barely ate, aren’t you hungry?” He caresses yours even as you continue washing. “Thank you, Carlos, it’s nice hearing some positive words after that dinner.” He sighs, burrowing his face on the crook of your neck.  
“You’re avoiding my question.” He places small kisses here and there. “It’s not in the diet plan,” it’s an excuse, your mother had been commenting on your weight all evening. Yes, it’s true you’d gained weight, but you’d been working out and most of it is muscle. But her words are sharp, and the thoughts are springing up. If it makes her happy, better so. He does his usual noise when he’s unhappy when something.  
“Tomorrow I’ll cook dinner,” you gasp, turning to him, his words have caused delight in you. “I’d like to see that,” his brows furrow but a smug look is on his face. “What? You don’t think I can?” In your mind, yes, he has a difficult life, but that’s just stress. He has personal chefs and personal trainers and likely his father had too. Not way did he ever learn to cook. “No, not at all.” 
You cross your arms, and he just laughs. “Fine then, I'll show you. You can even post it on your Instagram.” This sparks joy, you love seeing people’s reactions to you and him.
So far, they’ve been nothing but positive. In these short three weeks you’ve gotten 50k new followers. If they’re there for you or Carlos, doesn’t matter to you. You’ll give them what they want either way.  
“You mean it?” Your hands reach up and take hold of his shirt. “Only if you eat,” and with that you bite your lip and nod. “Okay, you’ve got yourself a deal.” He sighs, takes a drying rag and begins helping you by putting away the dishes. “Oh Carlos! Ne perdez pas votre temps avec la vaisselle, Y/N la fera. Laisse-moi te montrer ses photos de bĂ©bĂ©.”  
You sigh, leaning your head against his chest. “Oh no,” his brows furrow pulling you away to see what the matter is. “She wants to show you my baby pictures.” A deep laugh escapes his chest. “Mi querida, I’d love to help you finish this, but I can’t miss that.” You laugh but do allow him to see little you.  
“What colour are you choosing?” You ask your mother, watching as she scans through the different nail polishes. Like expect she chooses a toned-down pink, she rarely does her nails but when she does, it’s always that same colour. “Why don’t you choose something different? Look I’m going with this black with gold shimmer. We’re somewhere nice, don’t you want to use the opportunity?”  
Your mother just looks at you over her glasses. “And why is that?” It’s already Thursday, the week had been going by slower than you expected it would and only made you realise why you visit so little.
The only good thing so far has been your father’s awareness, he’s had a few moments of unclarity these past few months. Even so, just like growing up, he doesn’t exactly stand up for you against your mother’s badgering.  
Like always, it's just the usual gruff short replies and relative quietness. Carlos, however, has been nothing but kind. The dinner he cooked was amazing, the fans swooned in your comments. At night he’d hold you tight and whisper sweet nothings. All about how beautiful you are and how you’re perfect as is. It helps, yes, but nothing compares to motherly love. You do everything you can, but still don’t feel like enough.  
“Ah, Mama, don’t be like that.” After that, she continues about the gossip of the town and the lives of your siblings. That is of course until you’re sitting at the dinner table again. Enjoying the food Carlos has crafted to fit both of your diets, showing him your nails. He loves them and makes sure to kiss your knuckles.  
That is, until your mother interrupts your bliss. “Y/N, what did you say Carlos does?” You bite the inside of your cheek. “He is a Formula one driver.” You mutter, trying to hide yourself behind her sharp glare. “And are you still a chef?” You swallow your food; you’ve been avoiding this question for as long as possible. You shake your head, “No, Mama,” her bitter stare grows stronger.  
“So, what is it that you do?” She raises her voice, now your father seems interested. “I am working on my modelling career.” Both your parents groan and gasp in raised tones. “This again,” your brother mutters, he too has been harsh with you. “Why do you keep going on and on about this modelling. Ever since you were small. My daughter, you know I love you, but you aren’t like those pretty girls.”  
Her words are like knifes; knifes reopening wounds you’d been working so hard to heal. Carlos takes your hand under the table. This whole time he’d been encouraging you to stand up for yourself. Convincing you that what they’re saying aren’t normal and that you shouldn’t tolerate it. You’ve tried persuading him or more yourself that she’s your mother and she does it out of love.  
But she’s been ungrateful all week. As if she hasn’t been begging you to come home and talk to her. She comments on everything, your weight, your hair even your laugh. Saying you squeal like a pig, you tried to laugh less after that one. She hates her nails and all the presents you brought home. More than all, you’ve been dreading this happening. Hoping that it never would.  
“No, Mama, I do not know that you love me,” she gasps and begins screaming even more. “How could you not know? I raised you. I fed you, clothed you, gave you the deposit to get your degree. Which you don’t even use now!” The anger over comes you and you rise from your chair. “Carlos will gladly pay back all that money if I was such a burden on you!”  
The whole table goes eerily quiet. Soon it is interrupted by a scoff from your brother. “So what? He’s like your Sugar Daddy, right?” You take a moment to calm down, trying to decide if you’re going to say the truth. But they're your family. You should never lie to your family, right? “Yes,” you take his hand back into yours. You can see that he’s picked up his name and knows he’s being discussed.  
“What is that, BĂ©renger?” Your mother asks, switching between you and your brother. “She fucks him for money. A glorified prostitute!” His words are harsh and spit flies as he screams. You know for a fact that if Carlos understood French, he’d be raging.
“Unbelievable!” Your mother gasps out and another raging fire starts in you. “What? Is it so unbelievable that someone could actually love me so much that they’d pay to see me?”  
Years and years or anger and trauma, built up due to constant belittlement finally breaks through. “Why does it shock you all so much that he thinks I’m beautiful. That he thinks I’m more worth than all the riches in the world. You hate it that someone actually respects me, because you can’t knock me down anymore.”
Again, the table goes quiet before your brother speaks again. This time in English, clearly wanting Carlos to understand what he’s saying.  
“He doesn’t respect you. He doesn’t care for you. And he most certainly doesn’t love you. He just wants to fuck you. And once he’s bored of you, he’ll take what he’s given and leave you with nothing.” Before you can curse out your brother, a sharp crack is heard. Your brother is on the floor, nursing a bloody nose. “Don’t you ever, ever talk to her like that ever again.”  
You can hear your mother rambling on about her poor son and can only scoff at her reaction. “I’m not some city boy who doesn’t know how to throw a punch. You won’t believe how strong 6G’s of force make you.” Through all the commotion, there is a muttering that can be heard. Listening carefully, it is your father. “Get out, get out,” he repeats over and over.  
You bow your head down low, right by his ear but just shake off his words. This irritates him and he too raises his voice. “Get out, you’re no daughter of mine.” You laugh at his words, “Don’t be silly, Papa, you must be having one of your episodes.” You go to rub his back, in your mind to soothe him but he grabs your wrist before he can.  
“Hear me when I say this girl, because I am clear of mind when I do. While you are still whoring yourself out to this man, you are no daughter of mine.” The realisation hits you like a truck. So much so, that you stagger back, Carlos catching you as your head becomes dizzy. “Mi pequeña, what is the matter?” All you can do is shake your head.  
“Come, Carlos, it seems that we are not welcome here.”   
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Just so p.s. me not translating the French and Spanish is for a reason. I'm not just being spiteful, it is part of the storytelling. If you want to get a good grade in fanfic reading (which is totally possible and a very normal thing to want) feel welcome to translate it 😉
Tag list is open, just ask!
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justjams2003 · 3 months
Text
Fast Pace-11
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', mention of sexual assault, old man being creepy (Fred Vasseur ofc), nudity, tell me if I missed any
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae @hangmandruigandmav @therealone4r @keii134 @dark-night-sky-99 @jax-the-oregonian
Word count: 3k
Masterlist
Part 10~Part 12
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There is an extremely fine line between want and need. Those born rich believe everything is a need. Oh no, my 14k turquoise necklace hasn't been polished, but I needed it for my gala. Not a want. Need, is something you cannot live without. Need is something that kills you. That burns you when you don't have it.
You need water, or else you'll dry up and turn to ash. You need food, or else your stomach will eat you until there is nothing left of you. You need air or else your lungs will collapse and you drown in your own gooey flesh.  
To you, it felt quite obvious. You need Carlos and Carlos wants you. You need him, or else you would've been kicked out of your apartment. Left to starve as you roam the streets, dirty and unwanted. To ashamed to ask for help, or even tell those who really should be caring for you about your situation.
He just wants you. In your eyes you were just something to keep him busy. To tickle his fancy. Cure his boredom when he's not working his body and mind to the bone. Aid him when the nights become too long. Or show him a good time when it all become too much. He could live without you.  
But, when you think about it, maybe your need was just a want. A tinkle of laziness that your exhaustion had brought fourth. If you were truly honest with yourself, you would've realised that you don't need him. You could easily find a better job somewhere else now that you'd worked your way up the ladder.
You would've been fine. And is his want maybe a need? You thought he was living the extravagant life. Girls on each arm, spending money left and right just for a few laps around the track. But last night, he has shown you the true crack in his walls.  
You see now. The pressure is tough, like the diamonds used to mine more diamonds. The extreme heat the tires are forced to endure. At the end of each race, they crumble and melt. Ripping apart in splinters of their former design. After each race, they're discarded, no reason to use something that's been under that amount of stress, right?
And yet, after each race, Carlos does it again. Billions of people, depending on him, willing him to fulfill their desires. You are the water that cools the heat of mining equipment. The heat gun that warms the tires. The safe haven that he's been needing.  
You see now that you are so much more to him. You see that you need to be so much more for him. He is in need and you must give more. Or else, he might just break and crumble and tear and there will be nothing left of your dear Carlos.  
"Carlos! Wait before you start." He looks so imposing with his whole race outfit on. His helmet makes him look so much taller. You grab him by that very same helmet and pull him down to your level. You open his visor and place a kiss on his cheek. "Pole position, for me?" Now, now is when he blushes. He doesn't answer you, he doesn't make any promises. 
This is the first time you've ever initiated contact. He's always been the first to kiss your forehead. To pull you closer to him. To hug you when you hurt, to care for you when you yourself don't want to. But you've deciphered his words. You see now that he is a chivalrous man who will not touch you, unless you take the first step. That is why you must train your body, treat it with highest honour. He doesn't want to hurt you.  
But as you watch him race by from the garage, and the clock so dreadfully ticks by, you can feel the adrenaline in your toes. All the way up to your heart, beating so loudly you might just faint. "He's doing it!" You yelp, mostly for yourself. It's not like anyone else would listen. Especially with his extremely possessive behaviour all morning. 
He didn't let you out of his site. If he had meetings, you had to wait outside. If he had media, you'd be in the room next door. Walking from place to place, his hand is on your hip. You remember, Ilsa had sent you a video of him at the media conference. You haven't told anyone about yesterday, it's far too private. For you and for him and for no one else to see or hear about.  
"Carlos, this has been an incredibly difficult year for Ferrari. While Charles is quick to anger, you manage to stay positive, how so?" He thought for a moment, licking his lips, combing his fingers through his hair. "My girlfriend, you know she's new to all this. She doesn't know about my failures. In her eyes I'm a superhero. As long as that doesn't change, I have nothing to complain about."  
The checkered flag is waved, time is up. It takes a moment for your eyes to focus, and even longer to believe it. He did it. Pole position. He actually did it. The whole garage is overcome with shouts of excitement. Everyone is jumping up and down, hugging each other, clapping hands.
You can see some engineers even want to do the same with you. Feeling moved by the pure elated joy. At the same time, you see the memories of his growls and flares flash before their eyes. That's alright. You barely know them after all. You're not for them.  
Still you join them in the barracks. He climbs out of his car, jumping up and down, you can only imagine how heavy his helmet must be. His eyes search the crowd, needing you. He needs to see you celebrate for him, just the same that you celebrate each time he makes it alive out of the car. Before his team gets their hands on him, his hands are on you. Hugging you tight, as if his life depends on it.  
The sharp steel of the barricade digs into your skin, but you don't care. You'd face the worst pain all just for him. It is so strange to believe how a fight can bring you so much closer together. Anything for him.
"You did it! You did it!" They all scream but Carlos can only hear your voice. He throws off his helmet as fast as he can. Carlos ignores his engineers and team principal. Instead he places a kiss on your cheek, the first return of a more intimate physical touch. "All for you, mi princessa."  
The team principal places his hand on your shoulder, while Carlos does his interview. "Christ, what did you do to him?" He has a wide smile on his face and clearly means it only with kindness, but you can't help but think of how tight Carlos held you last night. Every time you would stir he'd squeeze you. In his sleep he would whisper in fear, mumbling about how he just can't lose you.
And you can't help but wonder how much longer he can keep going with this game you're playing? Not just that, how much longer can he keep doing this job. Just for these moments that come only once a year.  
Yes he's smiling now, clearly beaming with joy. Not even an incline of last night's fear in his eyes. But how much longer can the both of you keep going? Waiting for him to crash into the wall. Waiting for the day that you get the call. Waiting for the day that you break and this relationship too ends in a violent crash.
Is it worth the smiles he has now? That fast paced thrill, is it worth the sudden stop? Because you can't keep racing forever and you can't keep this up forever. When is the point that you are more? More than just a money-spender? 
"Nothing," you shrug, know he won't understand your next words. "I just gave him a kiss on the cheek before the qualifying." The principal gives a boisterous laugh and then puts both his hands on your shoulders. "Well damn, next time why don't you sleep with him beforehand." 
He laughs, but you feel a strange churn in your stomach. The uncomfortable dissociation that every woman has felt. You feel like a toy, a ticket to his success. Like a piece of the card that they'll discard when it stops working. You feel much more  like an object than your very own Sugar Daddy ever made you feel.  
But his scent overcomes you before you can even open your mouth. That classic scent of Dior musk and freshly iron shirts. But now, more than ever, he's got this overwhelmingly masculine scent about him. The sweat from a hot race and the smell of the burnt rubber is all around you.
He's right in front of you. Carlos takes his team principal's hand and rips it off your shoulders. "Don't fucking touch her." Now that his helmet is off, his gaze is so much stronger. Anger, fueled by that similar to the Ferrari car he'd just been racing with. 
He turns around to continue with his duties but quickly stops in his tracks. "Actually, don't ever come fucking near her again." His hands, no longer gloved, reach under your arms and pull you over the barracked. You can't see anything, there are millions of flashes going off. Cameras, everywhere. Perfect, this will be the word on everyone's tongue.
Carlos takes your hand in his and practically drags you to his driver's room. "Carlos, you're being dramatic! It wasn't that serious!" He slams the door shut, you can feel the anger radiating from him.  
He turns to you, not a single sign of anger towards you in his eyes. But the fury is still there. "Not that serious? Mi dulce niña, you're crying." What? He moves in your space, his hands on your cheeks. No, no it can't be. You're over it, it's been more than three years you have to be over it. You sigh, admiring the new Prada heels you’re wearing, while wiping the tears from your cheeks.  
Your shoulders lift and then drop again. “It just brought back some bad memories. But he wasn’t doing anything wrong towards me.” His jaw locks and you can see he wants to say so much more. “Bad memories?” His touch is even softer now, his brows furrow together. “Yes Carlos, every girl has been assaulted it doesn’t make me special.” He scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Who? Tell me now.”  
A sigh escapes you and you take his hands in his. “Don’t do this, Carlos.” He shakes his head, “No, you can’t ask that of me.” You dry up all your tears in an instant. “It won’t happen again. With you by my side, I’m sure it won’t. So, let’s not focus on it, yeah? You have plenty to do, I’m sure.” You can see his mind is torn between you and his driver duties. He could get in a lot of trouble if he stays here much longer. At the same time, he cares so much for you.  
“Okay, okay. Let’s do that. But, if this happens again, you’ll tell me, yes?” You nod, bringing his face close to you and kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be okay.” He smiles, forced but still. “Go, go enjoy yourself. You’ve worked hard for this.” This time, the smile is more real as he is reminded of his new victory.   
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I speed down the highway, the Ferrari Spider I had loaned for her goes 120km/h. I can see on the dashboard that the car is all the way in 5th gear. Yes, it’s nothing compared to the 360km/h I’m used to, but for her it’s as fast as she’ll ever go. Her hair is loose and wild in the wind. I’ve got the roof off, but still she hangs out of the window.  
Mi cosa bonita has got on the tiny red dress she had shown me the other day. The way she’s hanging, her dressed has hiked up all the way and is one slip up from having me pull over to the side of the road. The cut outs under her breast has a similar effect too. I keep my hand on her calve, to make sure she doesn’t get hurt.  
She’s put on her playlist, the whole car shakes as the speakers boom. She’s screaming every lyric at the top of her lungs. I don’t know any of them, most of them after all are in French. Not that I mind. Seeing her like this, enjoying herself more than ever, her body looking as delightful as can be, is already enough of a celebration to me.  
But as I pull up to the a nearby alcove, hidden away from the public, her eyes grow big. “Is what I think about to happen, about to happen?” She asks, allowing me to take her hand and lead her all the way down to the beach. There is no light but the moonlight. Stars light the path all the way down to the beach waves.  
Crashing down on each other, in a wild tumble and turn. “Carlos, I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” it’s September and there is a cold wind blowing in the air. Not quite Winter yet, but the first sign of it can be found on her pink cheeks. I take her hand in mine, unable to keep my body from hers for long. “I didn’t either, but isn’t it so lucky that we find ourself here after we’ve eaten. By a private beach, where no one can see us?”  
She hums and then wraps her arms around my neck. Her body is pressed up against mine, cold yes, but our friction together forces a warm heat in my loins. “What a strange coincidence,” her lips find my jawline. Placing kisses across my scruff. A delightful feeling that no other should ever be awarded. “Quel est votre plan pour moi, Monsieur?”  
Por Dios, she has me. She has all of me. Nothing I can give her would ever compare to this feeling. “Babygirl, si sigues hablando asĂ­, todos mis planes para ti se desmoronarĂĄn. PerderĂ© todo el control de mĂ­ mismo.” She giggles and shakes her head. “Now we both have no idea what the other is saying.” I too laugh, “I suppose, but you could talk me in ancient tongues and I’d still understand.”  
She laughs and shakes her head, “Okay Shakespear,” my sweet girl lets go of me and turns around, allowing me to unzip her dress. As the dress falls over her shoulders, like water over glass, it is revealed that there is nothing else on her body, but the dress. My hands graze over shoulder, but lips just barely miss her skin as she walks off into the ocean.  
The scene reminds me of a young maiden being sacrificed to the ocean gods. Her beauty being too much for the earthlings to handle. Believing that such a fairness would cure their fish droughts. Am I her guardian? Sent with to ensure that she reaches the gods safely? Or maybe she is one of the Gods and I am only here to worship her. If that is so, it would be the easiest job I’ve ever done.  
At the same time, everything I could possibly do would ever match up to all that is her. Her laugh, her beauty, her kind nature that never wants and only takes what is given and never more. Nothing can be enough, but I will try until the day I die.
“Are you coming in or are just going to watch and stare?” She calls out, just her neck sticking out of the water as she bobs up and down with the waves. Within seconds, I hit the icy-cold water. A shock to all the nerves, more awake than ever. All exhaustion leaving the body as I’m woken, but still, I see she is not a dream.  
My arms reach her waist. Smooth soft waist, so much more skin than I’ve ever before been allowed to see, to touch. My lips find her collarbone, just barely above the water. I need her, I need her more than air. Her soft giggles as my beard tickles her skin. The water soothing the warm ache in my bone, luckily, she cannot see how much I want her as I kept my boxers on.  
“Carlos, I’m very proud of you.” Her soft delicate fingers intertwine in my now wet hair. Her makeup has been washed off, but she’s still just as beautiful. Her gracious up-do has also been wiped clean by the salty water. I cannot say anything that would truly compare to what those words mean to me. “Mi Amor, you don’t know how much that means to me.”  
She pulls me closer to her. Not a word is spoken between us, as we just hold each other. My head in the crook of her neck and her arms wrapped tightly around my head. My arms wrapped tightly around her waist; our bodies pressed tightly against each other. The waves pull and push us from side to side.  
I love her. I’ve known her five weeks now, but that is more than enough. I’ve watched her from afar from what felt like forever to me and now I have her in my arms forever even, if I have to burn the world down. Because this moment is ours and I’ll cherish this each time the world becomes too much.  
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New York Times 
“Carlos Sainz’s million-euro watch stolen in front of his hotel.”  
Us Weekly 
“Y/N Y/S/N seen in Gioia Bini on the Paddock.”  
E! News 
“Y/N, Kika and Alexandra seen buying big in Milan.”  
Page Six 
“Carlos Sainz celebrating his Pole Position with a joy ride along with his girlfriend.”  
Glamour 
“Top Five of Y/N Y/S/N’s outfits so far.”  
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Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk
My taglist is open, just ask!
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justjams2003 · 3 months
Text
Indiana Jones Blurb
Okay so this is just s quick little blurb bc I've recently become obsessed with him. Not spell checked or anything. Tell me if y'all would read more Indiana Jones 😜
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Time travel! He's the first person to have recorded time travel! And just look! Ancient hundred year old war machines, tactics, languages, things he'd been studying his whole life! Things that he'd spend his much younger days searching for in dusty dry lands, in dark caves or even wet rat filled locations. But now, here it all is, in it's prime out in the open on green grass under blue skies. And the cherry on top, he reached Nasser before those damn Nazi's could.
"Kind Sir, you have saved my people and brought knowledge with that has sped up my research for years. How can I repay you?" Nasser confronts Indiana in his ancient and he answers without a single thought. "Can you give me one more visit through time before I go back?" His old hands shake as he begs. The mathematician examines the clock in his hands. And then nods. "I repay the man who has given me more time, with time. Where to?"
It's a swift, smooth blur, much different than the incredibly bumpy plane ride the first time. And much, much more quiet. The first thing he hears is your voice, begging his own father to stay awake. He remembers this like it was yesterday. He'd just confessed his love to you the first time, believing he would die in the three quests to the holy grail. But as selfish as he was back then, he didn't wait for a reply.
Then, he sees you hunched over his dying father. Covered in dust and your skin the same golden colour he used to be. Now in his old age one of his many regrets was not having you both wear more sunscreen. "Psst! Doll face!" He whispers his nickname for you, and by some force of the universe, you're the only one who raises their head. "I need some fresh air..." You mumble and once again the damn Nazi's let you, knowing you wouldn't run off.
He's hiding by some rocks, but your souls are attracted to the other and you find him almost instantly. You're just like he remembers you. How he wished he spent more time focused on you instead of old gold and pottery. Because that there is always more of, but of you there never will be. "Indy?" Your voice is like sweet melodies to his ears. His past and present collides in one cruel bang as he pulls you as close as he can.
He holds you tight as he can, you're utterly confused. Not only by his presence but also by the sheer force he holds you. As if he's lost you a million times over. "Indy? No...not my Indiana." He laughs at your confusion, trying to drink up every single bit of you. Your smell, your voice, the crinkle between your brows and your warm smile. "Always so clever, doll face." Your nose scrunches up and the crinkle between your brows grows, but before you can say anymore, he interrupts you.
"I don't have much time to explain, but-" You can see tears form in his eyes. His hands are shaking and he still refuses to let you go. "But I need you to break my heart. I need you to leave me and never come back. Please-" his voice cracks, and he shudders, trying to keep himself composed to finish his request. "Please I can't handle the hurt anymore." You can see just how much he is struggling. How much he wants to break down in your arms. And you reply by pulling him tighter. He smells much different. There is no longer that lingering scent of leather and gunpowder. But his warmth is still the same, your body still fits in his the same.
"I'm not there anymore, am I?" All he does is shake his head, you know he wants to cry. "How long has it been? Without me, I mean." He shudders again, grabbing your shirt and clenching it. "Six years. It was-" you stop him, "And you still love me?" Again, he just nods. "Then why do you want to get rid of me?" Now the flood gates open, while you just stand there as his support. "Because if I don't love you, then I won't hurt anymore. Please, please I can't do this anymore. I can't live without you."
You push him off you. "No. No I won't do it, you senile old man. Over my dead body." His eyes hold so much pain, so much fear, you know what he really wants, is to get rid of the pain and have you back. "I won't mess with time. And I won't break the heart of the man I love. Not because he's become a wuss in his old age." This causes him to laugh, he misses that spark so much. "I love you, Indy. Please don't grow cold because of it." Your words strike him, deeper than any bullet, whip or knife. Is this really how he wants to spend his last moments with you?
He laughs again, and pulls you close, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Don't ever change. And keep that reckless boy in check." You laugh, and wrap your arms around him. You still can't make your arms all the way around him. "I will, you know that. And I love you, I hope you know that too."
23 notes · View notes
justjams2003 · 3 months
Text
Fast Pace- 10
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae
Word count: 3,1k
Masterlist
Part 9~Part 11(coming soon)
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"Carlos! Carlos! Carlos! Look! Look! Look!” Your excitement is uncontainable. There was a knock on the door early in the morning. You opened the door to a package in the hands of one of your security guards. With the name of one of the lesser-known clothing brands in Milan. You'd slept in the same bed as Carlos, and it’s brought you closer together. You jump on the bed, just barely missing his sleeping form, well, now no longer sleeping. 
He doesn't even groan at your excitement. Instead, he wakes up with a smile. "Goodmorning, mi dulce niña, what has got you so riled up before 7 in the morning?” He asks, picking you up by the waist and placing you in his lap. "I got a package, see?” He rubs his eyes, now really waking up. He takes the box from your hands and reads the letter that came with.  
"Dear, Y/N, we've seen your videos and would love for you to show off some of our best looks on the paddock. Gioia Bini.” He doesn't show much of a reaction, clearly though just a bluff, a wide grin covers his face. He grabs you and then pulls you close to him. His scruff tickles you as he places a thousand small kisses all over. Your neck, your shoulders, your cheeks.  
You can't help but laugh, joy coursing through you. "I'm so proud of you!” His words feel like adrenaline through your bones. You can feel your childhood hopes and dreams spark alive again. This is a moment you'll be saving forever. Like a wallpaper for your mind. Because while he gives you words of praise you feel nothing but pure joy.  
"Let me fit it, and you can help me chose when and which one.” The first one is that classic Ferrari read, never before have you realised how good you look in the colour. Or just how good it feels to see him look at you like that. As if you're worth a million, no, a billion dollars. The second one is a short, white dress.  
"Mmh, a difficult choice. You know I love you in red, but I can't wait to see you in white.” "What?” Did he really just say that? Marriage? Yes, you're crazy about him, but you've only known him a month. But he doesn't answer. At all. He brushes it off as if he never said it. As if he meant to keep it in his mind or say it in Spanish.  
He then checks his watch; he'd already gotten ready in his gym clothes. "We'll decide after the gym.” You smile and go to get ready for your everyday. "Okay, enjoy yourself,” yet before you could go change, he grabs you by the wrist. "Ah, ah, ah. You're joining me. Remember the deal?” The realisation hits you, he must be making a joke, he can't be serious.  
Yet, he was dead serious about the smoking. He was dead serious about the healthy eating; you could see your hips becoming a bit softer and your legs just a bit rounder. His fingers come up to your chin and close your mouth. "You'll catch flies, why is this bothering you so much?” You rip your wrist from his hand.  
"Fine.” You don't mean to sound so harsh, but you can feel the memories surfacing. You can't help but stare at yourself in the mirror. Does he not like your body? Does he want it different? Will he be taking your privilege if you don't go? You thought you were more to him? More than just a body. Is that why he won't touch you? He doesn't think your body is good enough yet? 
"You're killing me,” you're heaving heavily. Squeezing your sides from the stitches as you hang over the treadmill. All while your sugar daddy and your shared personal trainer is laughing at your reaction. "You! This is all your fault. I thought you-” the word love plays on your tongue. No, he can't possibly love you. If he does, there must be something wrong with him.  
"-cared for me! And now? Now you're trying to kill me.” You just barely peer over to him. He hasn't even broken a sweat and yet he's done 3 times more than you. "It's just a 10 minute run, Y/N. I understand you had that classic French diet, but we have to start somewhere.” Rupert explains, trying to encourage you.  
It doesn't help, you can feel your lungs burning. But Carlos knows. He knows what motivates you, he knows what pushes your buttons. He tells Bob to go fill out your water bottle again. Then he does the same as before, lifts your chin and then brings your ear close to his mouth. "Come on, show Daddy you'll be able to keep up with me.” He shoots you a wink and before you know it, Bob is back.  
Your cheeks are bright red, and you just hope and pray that the trainer will think it's from the exercise. "Alright, Rupert, peak health. As good as a high-performance athlete.” You send Carlos a wink, hoping that it has the same effect on him as it has on you. It doesn't he doesn't blush, not once, in fact his smirk grows wider.  
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"Carlos did what?” You bite your lip at Alexandra's reaction. "He gave me his card and told me to go shop.” Kika lets out a laugh. "We heard you; we're just shocked.” You look at the both of them, their opinions matter a lot to you. You want what they have, what they are. You want to join them on their girls-trips and always enjoy the hospitalities with them on the paddock.  
"What? Does Pierre not do that?” You ask, feeling a bit like a deer caught in headlights. "I wish." She scoffs taking a sip from her drink. "Neither does Charles. I mean, he does give me presents and naturally we go on vacation together, but rarely does he just give me his card.” She still looks a bit taken back. "His Black Amex at that too.” Kika interrupts.  
The realisation of just how different your relationship is hits you. You didn't think from the start that they're sugar babies, but you thought at least their boyfriends would treat them the same. Or at least, similarly. Even so, for the most part your behaviour seems more girlfriend than sugar baby. Should you be acting different?  
"And the car too! Kika, did you see her car?” Alex calls out, putting down her drink. "Car?” Portuguese girl asks after swallowing her bite. Alex squeals and then pulls out her phone. At the moment, you feel like an outsider. You feel like they're gossiping about you, even if you're right next to them. She then shows Kika your Instagram, and they both swoon. Has she been watching you? 
 "You follow me?” She chuckles and nods, "Of course, girl, I've been stalking you since Charles told me Carlos got a new girl.” You chuckle, this all feels so schoolgirl. As if you aren't surrounded by some of the riches people on earth. "So, he's had plenty of girlfriends then?” She thinks for a moment, before backtracking on her words. 
"I wouldn't call them girlfriends. They're more like flings than anything. But you... I think you're here to stay.” She takes your hands in her own. "Why do you say so.” Before she even starts speaking, she leers over her sunglasses to Brutis and Otis. "Because they've never been here before." You regret wearing the claw-clip now, because you're so ready to hide.  
Kika finishes her drink, "Yeah, do they follow you everywhere?” She asks while turning back and waving to them. No reaction on their part. You sigh, letting go of Alex's hands and hiding your face. "Ugh, yes, it's Carlos' only fault. His protectiveness." Alex laughs and then shrugs. "It makes sense, the fans can be more dangerous than you realise..." It feels like the same speech he gave you.
"Yeah, didn't you see all those videos at the concerts? People are throwing things these days..." Kika agrees with Alex. If three people think the same, maybe it is logical? You haven't told Ilsa or Jasmine about them, you already know how they'll overreact.  
"I guess he's just worried about me," both of the girls only hum, but like classic good friends they give each other a knowing look. "But they're not much fun, are they?" She reads you like a book, they've been such a drag. A looming figure you just can't get rid of. And you know other people are staring more at them than they are at you. After all, you're not even that famous. "Why don't we ditch them?" Alex asks, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "I don't know, I don't want to stress Carlos out. With the practice and all, I don't want him to get hurt..."  
They both groan and boo at your hesitation. "He's not your dad, you don't have to do everything he says." Kika gives a sharp side eye, but she too has the playful aura. "Yeah, all three our boys are busy right now. We won't be bothering them. You can barely reach them when they're caught up in the media like this." She's right, so far you've just been sitting here eating lunch with them. After that, you have no idea. Carlos has so much to do and you honestly don't feel like getting in his hair. "Oh alright, how are we going to do this?"  
"Woohoo! Isn't this so much more fun than sitting around with those old men?" You can barely hear her over the sound of the radio. You're driving down the streets of Milan, again. This time an even bigger budget in mind with your new girl friends.
Even better so that those two boys aren't here to ruin the party, they'd been blowing up your phone and you've been gladly ignoring them. Gucci scarves, Prada heels, Hermés handbags, anything you could dream off. All the while the three of you go crazy on your Instagram. Showing everyone the life.  
"Oo girl, Carlos is going to attack you like some vicious animal when he sees you in that." Kika smirks as you all fit the lingerie on, after all the shopping and treats you all feel much closer together. You can only laugh, too ashamed to truly speak of all that is happening. Alex whines and places her head on your shoulder. "You really have the perfect guy." You can only laugh at her. "And what? Charles Leclerc is a deadbeat?"  
He's getting paid more than Carlos, he's more stable with Ferrari than Carlos and they've been longer together than the two of you. She laughs and admires herself in the changing room mirror. "I really like him, don't get me wrong. But he's not obsessed with me like Carlos is with you."
You blush and begin changing back into your clothes. "I wouldn't say he's obsessed with me." You both leave the changing room at the same time, conveniently with Kika outside still deep in your conversation.  
"Girl, have you seen the way he looks for you? All he does for you? What has it been? 6 Months? I would marry that man already if I were you. Just to make sure he doesn't get away." If you had a drink you would've spit it out. "Kika! It's a bit early, don't you think?" You're glad she shares your shock, otherwise you'd be certain that they're both crazy. "Not at all." You all three laugh at her, now you're really enjoying yourself.  
The ringtone rings, Sade's Smooth Operator plays due to the ringtone. "Speak of the devil." You say, holding up your phone after paying. You answer the phone while walking out the doors. "Where the fuck are you?" You can't help but let a laugh escape. He must be joking or something, you've never heard this time from him. He's never been aggressive towards you, ever. "This is not something to be fucking laughing about. Get back to the hotel, now."  
You fall back, behind the two girls, not wanting them to listen to the conversation. "Why? It's not even," you go to look at the time only to realise free practice has long since ended. Not to mention, it's almost 5. "Oh shit..." You mutter, not realising how long you've been out and about.
"Oh shit is right. Get back to the hotel. Now." His voice is much sterner than you've ever heard him be. Comparable to the rage you've seen in the videos, after he's been let down by his team, again. Have you let him down?  
You open the hotel door. All while taking off your heels and putting them to the side. "Carlos?" You call out, not seeing him lounging around, likely guessing that he's changing. In your mind, he's supposed to go to the gym right around now. The trainer has kept your sessions three times a week for now. However, walking further into the hotel room you see him on the balcony. In his workout clothes, his back faced to you with the setting sun of Italy in the background.  
"Carlos," he doesn't look to be as angry as he sounded on the phone. Then again, you've never really seen him angry. He turns to you, now you can truly gauge his emotions. "Where were you?" You go to answer him but he raises his hand. "More importantly why didn't you tell me you were leaving?" Anger, yes, it's prevalent, but more importantly you see fear. Utter frustration in his eyes, he looks like he's ran a  marathon. 
You shrug, inspecting your still un-pedicured toes. That was one of the many things you plan on doing with your mom next week when you visit. "I didn't want to bother you. You were busy with the media." He scoffs at your words, his dark hair moving with his dramatic reactions. He repeats your words in a mutter. "So you thought it would be better to scare the living shit out of me?" He does look truly terrified. His usually soft eyes are now hard like rock. Like the amber stones his eyes so resemble.  
"Do you know how it felt? I was in the middle of a drivers meeting. I thought someone took you from me!" You see tears form in his eyes. His backlash has a similar effect on you. You can feel the rock in your throat and the burning in your jaw. Yet still you don't dare say a word, after all you have nothing to say.
"Worse even, I thought you left me. I thought that they had said something that made you leave. That you realise you deserve much more than me." This makes you laugh, or maybe it's just to keep the sobs from escaping.  
But the laugh seems to pierce his heart. "You're laughing? I'm ready to burn the whole of Italy just to find you and you're laughing?" Now, now you see anger. Raging burning anger. Like it's been locked in a cage and now it's free and gulping up oxygen.
"No, Carlos. It's funny to me that you think I deserve better? You quite literally took me in from the streets. Fed me with Caviar, clothed me with Gucci and cared for me like a king his queen, expecting nothing in return. And yet still believe I deserve better?"  
Now it's his turn to laugh. You can see his fighting a battle in his mind. What to say and what not to say. "Can't you see? In five years I'll be washed up. Not a single Championship to my name and my money spent on stupidly expensive watches and cars that don't even hold one shopping bag. But you, you're immortal. Your beauty should be and I'm convinced will be remembered until every last mind withers from this earth.  Every single dime spent on you, is for the betterment of humanity."  
How on earth can you really mean so much to him? What is it about you? How can one glance from an alleyway have this man in tears in front of you. You can't control yourself, you just need to feel his arms around you.
You need to hold him and comfort him. Tell him you'll stay forever. How sorry you are and that it won't ever happen again. And he lets you. He lets the tears fall in the crook your neck. His grip tighter than you thought possible. To the point where it aches. But, that's what love is, right? It aches.  
He combs his fingers through your hair, whispering words that you'll never know what they mean. "Estoy obsesionado contigo. Si no puedo abrazarte por el resto de mi vida, entonces no tengo vida que esperar. Si no es en tus brazos donde muero, serå en ese maldito coche de carreras, aunque tenga que asegurarme de ello."  
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Taglist is open, just ask!
152 notes · View notes
justjams2003 · 3 months
Text
Fast Pace- 9
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis @carlossainzwho @lordpercevalcharles @topguncultleader @kitixie @serp3ns0rtiae
Word count: 3,1k
Masterlist
Part 8~Part 10
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“How was your day?” She asks from the bathroom. I shrug only to realise she can’t see me. “The usual,” I can hear her zip something up. “What is the usual?” I too am getting dressed in something more comfortable. It’s already 5 and we had dinner called up. For me, however, getting dressed is much quicker.  
“Well, especially now that we are in the home of Ferrari, Charles and I spend a lot of time on the racing simulator. With that we have the chance to speak to the factory workers, thank them for their hard work and really speak with the engineers. Then after that I spend a lot of time in the gym.” Yet these days, I spend a lot of the time there thinking about her.  
However, before I can say much else, she finally exits the bathroom in the first outfit. It’s a tweed white set. Oh, how I do love her in white. It gives me a sneak peak of the day she becomes mine. She looks so professional, ready to boss around whoever denies her anything. Too, at the same time, so elegant in the way her hair falls to the way her eyes shine.  
“And how was your day?” I ask, allowing her to change outfits, she had just shown me ravishing white bikini that has me needing to think of something else. “Oh, Carlos, I had so much fun. I just love the car so so much, people were taking pictures of it and me all day. Don’t you think it would look beautiful in like, a light pink?”  
I can’t help but laugh. “What? Would it be considered some sort of car treachery?” This does make me laugh even more. She is so cute. Holding the smallest things with such high honour but still always staying true to her heart. “There are some men out there who would call it...a betrayal to the craftsmanship. But those men are the ones who can’t afford the car and haven’t felt a woman’s touch since they were born.”  
Her laugh explodes from the bathroom. It warms my heart and brings a wide smile to my face. How I wish I could bottle that sound and carry it with me, for the days when everything becomes too much. That laugh of hers takes me to another dimension, one when it’s only me and her and not a single thing on this earth could come between us.  
The moment she steps out of the bathroom, my heart stops. She is just so gorgeous. She should be locked up in my house forever. How no one has stolen her heart yet is beyond me. She gives so easily her heart. There is so little I have to give and so much that she gives me. “Carlos, you haven’t said anything. Do you not like it?”  
How long have I been staring at her? How could I ever stop looking at her? “Would you prefer I bend the knee, or bow down fully?” Her laugh is like music to my ears. “What are you talking about?” Her eyebrows furrow, but I can’t look past just how much healthier she looks. The withdrawals seem to have gone for the most part.  
I’d been giving her medication to help, of course after consulting the best expert I could find. That crease in her forehead is gone and her eyes don’t seem as foggy anymore. “You are a goddess. This has to be the only conclusion. And I am your loyal follower, sent to worship you.” She coos, a pink hue becomes her. 
“Wait until you find out the name of the dress.” I motion my hand for her to continue. “Mon Amour.” Of course, because the universe knows. She must have seen me smile so bright because she says more. “When I told the shopping clerk, that it is one of your many names for me, he immediately called the designer over.”  
I do love listening to her talk. I could to it until the end of time and still not get tired. “I didn’t even know the designer was in house. I mean, it’s Channel, you’d expect that from a small boutique not a big house like them. Anyways, when he saw me in the dress, he was, as he said, ‘overwhelmed with my beauty.’” 
This causes my jaw to tick. Yes, I had sent the Channel store a generous sum of money, telling them about the very important client that would be visiting their store. I knew she’d go there; Chanel is her most visited page on Instagram. Besides mine, these days. She doesn’t need to know how I know that.   
What I didn’t know is that they’d send a designer in. Or the fact that this designer would be a he. “He said what?” Her words make my jaw tick. “He said something along the lines of ‘the way your body simply is, is inspiring.’ His words really made me blush.” The urge to show her just exactly who she belongs to is strong.  
Not only that, but I’d love to find this ‘designer’ and beat him to a pulp. Yes, his words are correct, but the fact that his attitude made her blush? That should have him sent to prison. “He then started styling me, oh I can’t wait to show you.” She then runs off only to return in a tight denim dress.  
One that hugs her curves like the red dress but shows just a bit less skin. Yet still, the thought him evaluating her body, watching her as I do now, is infuriating. What the fuck was he thinking? And why would she allow him to do any of this? She does a turn before going back, only to come out with a black skirt and pink top.  
I don’t say anything, I mostly spend the time plotting the man’s murder. The next is a green set, one that highlights just how heavenly she is. A fairy roaming in the gardens. A mermaid walking for the first time. An angel who has just gotten their wings. “After I finished paying for all this, he gave me his business card. Said to call him when I start getting serious about modeling.”  
I hold out my hand and she places the card in my hand. Without hesitation I tear it up. This man will never contact her ever again. In fact, no one should. I don’t want people from the outside filling her heads with all sorts of stories. They could drive a wall between us. And if that happens, my plans for her will have to take a drastic jump.  
“Carlos! Why would you do that?” Her lip pushes out and her arms cross over her chest. “I don’t want him contacting you. If he wants to speak to you, he’ll have to talk to me first.” She rolls her eyes at me and then sighs. “You have to be joking.” I raise my brow at her. This is incredibly serious. “In fact, I don’t want anyone outside our inner circles contacting you.” She gasps and her mouth hangs open.  
“This is taking it too far, Carlos.” Her eyes are usually big, doe and sparkling, but now I see a fury and an anger. “That’s what assistants are for. So that you don’t have to spend your time worrying about schedules or weeding out the people who will further your future and those who just want to use you.”  
I can show her far. Someday it will only be me and her and the Sainz family. There will be no interruptions from people. She will not be tainted by the words and opinions of others. They will not take her from me. Nothing will. “Oh,” her mouth snaps shut and that fire in her eyes dim. “What, do you think I’d shut you out from the world? I’m not that jealous.”  
A little lie here and there won’t hurt her. After all, once she is in my hands, it will have happened so slowly she won’t even realise that she has been taken home. I am her home. No one else. Not her parents, not her friends, not her co-workers. Not even the other drivers on the grid. She will be untouchable, unreachable by everyone but me. The goddess and her dress and her disciple.   
There is a knock at the door, I glance at the balcony and see it’s already dark out. After the outfits, she had also shown me the jewels she bought along with a purse and some shoes. It was quite fun actually, seeing her eyes shine like the gems she had bought. Her smile so wide, I just want to eat her up. I settle for a kiss on the forehead. “Go get in your pj’s, I’ll get the food.” 
“What movie are we watching?” I ask, turning off the big light after we ate. She’s already snuggled in bed, like a kid on Christmas. “Pretty Woman, duh. I’m going to point out every time I felt like Julia Roberts.” I can’t help but laugh at her shenanigans. And still give her a kiss on the head and climb in the bed next to her.  
But I can see the way she eyes me, with a longing glance and those big doe eyes. “Come here, mi amor. Snuggle in close.” Her eyes beam again and without hesitation I pull her close into my arms. She cuddles in close, almost rubbing her face into my chest. She curls herself into a small ball and I make sure she isn’t uncomfortable for a single moment.  
Yet, still, she’s fidgety. “Sit still, o te pondrĂ© en una posiciĂłn en la que no tendrĂĄs mĂĄs remedio que quedarte quieto.” I squeeze her legs tight, to really drive it home. Her squirming has caused an effect on my body that I’m sure she’s not ready to handle yet. She whines, “I’m sorry, can I show you something?”  
“Of course,” I make small circles on her delicate skin, encouraging her to tell me more. She pulls out her phone and then goes to the videos. She then continues to show me a video in the Instagram reel format of her enjoying her day shopping. “Do you think it’s cringe?” She asks, biting her lip and this time it’s me that squirms.  
“No, of course not, I’m glad that you’re finally pursuing your dreams. Even if it’s a small start. Not to mention, it’s really well done.” A blush coats her cheeks, she so up and down. One moment she’s the hottest girl I’ve ever met and the next she’s as cute as can be and I want to hold her like this, all bundled in my arms, forever.  
I haven’t seen this video on her Instagram yet. “Why haven’t you posted it yet?” She bites her lip and avoids my gaze. “No seas tímido conmigo,” she gasps when I nip at her ear and it forces a deep chuckle from me. “I’m scared of what they’ll say about me. I’m scared that they’ll piece together our agreement.” I scoff at her, and shake my head. “So what if they do?”  
She whines and rolls her eyes. “If my modelling career starts, I don’t people to think it’s because I whored myself out.”  Whored herself out? How dare she even think something like that? If anyone ever even dare to talk even slightly bad about her, I’ll have them castrated. I have a tough security and they do anything I ask.  
Money does a lot for a person and for her... I, myself don’t even know how far I’d go. “If you ever say that again, I’ll fuck the word right from your mouth.” I just love the way her eyes go big and she begins to stutter when I say something even slightly seductive. It turns me on, just how much power I hold over her.  
“Dios, eres tan lindo. Here, give me your phone.” She does it without hesitation, still flustered by my words. I open the camera and the moment she sees the selfie side, she ducks behind my arms. I take a picture, it’s as cute as can be. I go to set it as her wallpaper but see that the photo she took on the first day is already the wallpaper.  
I raise my brow at her and she just shrugs. I look and see her lock screen is her and her other two friends that I hear so much about. “I always keep the most important things in my life as my wallpaper.” I feel so warm at her words. How much more perfect can she be? I take my phone and do the same as she has. And proceed to post it on my story.  
“Post the video. Let them talk, that just makes it more fun to prove them wrong.” She just gazes up at me with such love in her eyes. Then her eyes flicker back to the TV and she gasps, “Look, look. Look at how awful these fancy ladies are to her. She’s just this big bundle of energy and childlike joy and they’re just so cruel.”  
I stay listening with extreme intent. It’s almost funny, the way she describes this girl, because it sounds just like my Y/N. “It happened in the store, just today. Before I went to Chanel, I walked into Gucci. I had parked a bit away, for safety. A bit of a habit, I guess. They didn’t see the car, but they gave one look and went ‘we have nothing in your size.’”  
My grip grows tighter than I want it to be. I don’t want her to know the effect she has on me, I’m certain that she’d use it against me. If she truly wanted, she could have me like putty in her hands. Wrapped around her finger, she could have me on my knees with one look. She doesn’t notice it, but there are tears that pool in her eyes.  
“I’m a size ten! That’s very average. Shouldn’t they make clothes for an average person like me.” She pouts, pushing out her bottom lip. Subconsciously, she wraps my arms tighter around her. I’m her protection, she doesn’t realise it, but I am her safety blanket. I scoff at her words. “Please, you are the least average person I have ever met. I’ll have the store bankrupt by next week.”  
She gasps and gives me a slight hit on the arm. “You will do no such thing.” I laugh, kissing her neck. “And why not?” I whisper, pulling her closer into my arms. “Because, you are just race car driver, you will not bankrupt a store that has been standing there for decades with a fashion rich history. I will not have some nepo-baby with too much money on his has destroy it over some girl he met two weeks ago.”  
Her words would be harsh coming from anyone else. But when she says it, it only makes me laugh. “Is that really what you think of me?” She blushes, “I’m sorry I said that. I don’t know much about cars, but I can see you have a real passion for it and a real talent for it. You know, outside of your father’s influence.” She makes me feel like a superhero. In her eyes I can do no wrong. It feels like everybody has been criticizing me all my life, but she? No, she just loves, open and free and can’t find anything wrong with it.  
“And I’ll support you. Always, like you do me.” How I wish now I could kiss her. Just to make the words stop, because if she says one more thing, I might just cry. “Speaking of fathers... Next week is an off weekend and I still owe you a visit to your family.” She sighs, a loud, heavy drawn out one, she leans against my arm and pretends to go back to the movie.  
On instinct I just know, and once again open her phone and find her messages with her mom. She doesn’t stop me, actually she encourages it by giving her password. I can see almost each time her mother has messaged her, she either replied with a dry answer or just didn’t reply at all. “I don’t know what to tell her.”  
“You haven’t told your family about us yet?” Her shy eyes avoid my gaze and I know she feels guilty. “I don’t know what to say. Oh, yes, I’m in the arms of a man I’ve only known two weeks, because, you know, he paid off my student debt and is also so hot it’s unfair to any other guy that has ever lived.” Yes, her words are true but we both know we’re forever. And if she doesn’t realise it, I’ll just have to convince her.  
A low hum escapes my throat, “They do not watch the race? They haven’t seen you there?” She laughs and shakes her head, “They wouldn’t dream of it. They both are kickers for the good old days and when they do watch TV, it’s just those old soaps. In fact, I got my first job when I was 16 and with my first paycheck I bought a shitty phone. After school I’d walk to the nearest cafĂ©, use their Wi-Fi and watch every fashion movie I could find. Illegally, of course.”  
I love hearing everything about her. It feels as though I could never know everything about her and that breaks my heart. “Well, I suppose we have to have a story for them and the media too. Let’s say this, we keep the story the same, we just move the timeline back about a year. So, instead of 13th of August, let’s make it...the 1st of February.”  
“And why wouldn’t I tell my own mother, about a guy I’m dating, for six months.” That’s a good point. “Well, let’s say that we wanted to keep it private until we’re sure of us.” She shrugs, “That makes sense, ooh, can I buy them presents tomorrow?” I chuckle, always so thoughtful. “Of course.”  
I have to buy them over somehow. If they don’t aprove of me... I’d hate to break my girl’s heart. Having a bit fall out with your own parents can be very traumatic. But I won’t hesistate. I’m sure mother would love her just as much as I do. And father, he would understand why I do, what I need to do.  
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justjams2003 · 3 months
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Fast Pace- 8
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis
Word count: 3,2k
Masterlist
Part 7~Part 9 (coming soon)
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He likely doesn’t even realise you’re awake. Not that you mind, after all, he’d just gotten out from the shower. His finely cut muscles, like the David statue, has water running down from the top of his broad shoulders all the way down to his v-line. That towel hangs incredibly low and every time he moves it threatens to fall.  
He stands in front of the closet, trying to decide what to wear. “Are you enjoying the show?” His voice is rough, you can see his eyes slide over to you, and a huge blush coats your cheeks. On instinct you pull the covers up to hide your face. He tsks and walks over to you, and lightly pulls down the sheets. “Didn’t I tell you not to hide your face from me?”  
You giggle, “You look quite handsome for an old man.” He groans and rolls his eyes. “¿QuĂ© voy a hacer contigo?” You hum as a reply, “I like it when you talk Spanish to me.” You use his own words against him. He shakes his and grabs some clothes from the closet. “Go get ready, dormilona.”  
You sigh and push the sheets to the side. “Why, anything particular planned for today?” You ask watching each reaction. “Oh yeah, you have big plans for today. Me? I have nothing but boring meetings and practising.” He shrugs, pulling the shirt over his head. “Poor thing, are you sure I can’t company you?” You ask, holding out your hand for him to take, still sitting like a princess on the bed.  
He does just that, gently caressing your knuckles. “No, mi niña bonita. You’re in Italy, I want you to enjoy it. Plus, I have a surprise for you.” He winks, shooing you out the bed only for you to return soon after wearing a matching set. Light white linen, short button up top and short skirt with a comfortable pair of flats. Of course, with your new Prada bag close by.  
“Wow, wow, wow, don’t you look beautiful?” He says, taking your hand and allowing you to spin, before he slowly places kisses all the way up your arm to your shoulder. Your hair is pulled up with the claw clip he got you, leaving clear space for his lips to find a home there. “DeberĂ­as ser adorado. DeberĂ­a haber santuarios y estatuas en tu nombre. Me asegurarĂ© de que seas un Sainz, para que los que me aman, te amen aĂșn mĂĄs.” 
You furrow your brows, “You speak words that I cannot understand but your eyes say so much more than your mouth ever will.” It’s true, he looks to be madly in love, obsessed even. His eyes fall on your frame as if he is seeing a god for the first time. His eyes go from chocolate brown to that of a pitch-black night. Stars in his eyes.  
“You will understand, soon enough,” he winks and then asks, “Do you have everything?” You smile and nod, opening your back only to see your phone and some lip-gloss. Your wallet is their too, but inside is only your ID, your driver's licence and a credit card you haven’t used in two weeks now.  
“Good.” Then he takes your hand in his and to you, you’re only thinking you’re going for a walk, for breakfast. Yet, when you exit the hotel, you can see just what Carlos meant when he said the Ferrari fans go big. They’re surrounding the hotel, there were fans yesterday too, but you can only assume the closer it gets to the weekend the more there will be.  
“Keep your head down.” He says, pulling out his sunglasses and in one smooth move puts them on. He seems like someone else entirely. His demeanour is different. His hand is wrapped around your waist, his grip firm and even tight. His jaw is locked tight, and his whole personality is so much suaver.  
It does something to you, the way he takes control. Guides you through the crowd, still waving and giving attention to the fans but at the same time he is untouchable. And now, you are too. Cameras are flashing and people are screaming his name...and yours too. It sends a thrill down your spine and instead of keeping your head low like he said, you keep your head high.  
Carlos guides you into the car, and still careful of the people, he drives off. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. A bright smile is smeared on your face. “What are you smiling about, chica guapa?” He asks, his hands smooth on the gear box. The way he sits back on the chair is something you could watch forever and ever.  
“That was so cool, you were so cool, I felt so cool. Appelez cela un rĂȘve appelĂ© vrai.” You sigh, stabilizing your beating heart by fixing your hair. “You enjoy that?” His dark brows knot and you nod with a bright smile. “Don’t you?” This is part of his job; doesn't he love his job?  
He shakes his head, “I really do appreciate the fans but sometimes eh
” You can't help but let your mouth hang open in shock. He raises his brow at you. “Carlos. Those people out there make your career. You're the only way that they might ever get a taste of the life. They live through you. I find it thrilling,” you explain, and it does seem to have made an impact on him.  
“Like, back home, idols are an escape from reality. Seeing these people on, living the life you can only dream of, makes you hopeful that maybe someday you could be them. It might never happen for some, but even then, it helps you get out of the bed in the morning.” Like always he’s hanging onto your every word.  
He pulls up to a really fancy looking car shop. Luxury vehicles you can only ever dream of displayed in all sorts of ways. The people who work here greet you both with utmost respect, they too look for anything they can do for you. You can't help but look around, taking in the beauty of some of these cars. Hand crafted leather seats expertly painted and worked on for years.  
“You like?” Carlos asks, his hand falling on the curve of your waist. You noticed it instantly, after last night his touches have become more frequent. Not that you mind, in fact each time he places a kiss on your shoulder, or grabs your hand, you can feel the lightning course through you. The power of a thousand horses making their way through your stomach.  
“My dad would go crazy.” You mutter, thinking of all the times your father would call out the exact name and model of a car as you passed. “But do you like it?” Carlos' brows furrow, you can see he worries and can tell he was excited to show you. “Of course, it just feels so crazy. I never thought in a million years I could ever even be this close to the cars I see on my feed all the time.” You mutter, your hand on his chest as you take it all in.  
He smirks, “Pick one.” His words are so simple and easy. You'd think he's asking you to say if you wanted chicken or beef. “Pick one?” The words fall from your mouth and feel like a thousand butterflies on your tongue. He nods, “Any one, I'll rent it for the day or even the whole week if you wanted.” He shrugs, also gazing at all the magnificent cars.  
He lets go, allowing to roam and decide which one. Then you spot it, in the very back of the show room. You don't know the name, the model or anything important. You just know, this is the one. “Ahh, yes, the Ferrari R8 Spider.” The front man begins speaking, listing off all the special features but you're not listening. All you see are hearts and stars.  
“This one?” You can call out his deep voice and accent out of a million voices. “Yes, I don't need to see any other one.” You beam up at him and you can see he too is excited about it. “Should've known you'd always find the Ferrari,” you nod, appreciating each and every grove of the car.  
While the people set up all the paperwork, Carlos pulls you to the side. He pulls out his wallet and then hands you his Black Amex card. “What's this?” You ask him, holding the card gently as if you're cradling a baby. “You've never seen one before?” He asks, his brows pulled together but still teasing. “I want you to go to Milan and shop your heart out. No limit.” He sends you a wink and you feel your knees grow weak.  
“You can't be serious.” The words are like lead on your tongue. What on earth is he doing? “Of course, why would I joke?” He's dead serious. Carlos is dead serious about this. “No limit?” You ask one more time just to make sure you didn't hear wrong. “There are two conditions.” You nod, not even caring if he says you have to go down on your knees.  
“Otis and Brutis stay with you at all times.” He then points his thumb to the two massive bodyguards waiting just outside the shop. A whine escapes your mouth, and you push out your bottom lip more than ever before. “No, they're such a drag.” You whine, grabbing onto his polo shirt. “They will follow you, wherever you go.” His voice is stern but still you fight.  
You know that it's for your safety, but you can't help but feel like a criminal. Someone who should be watched at all times, like you're being babysat. A thought plays in your mind, the perfect way to get him to change his mind. “Daddy, please don't make me take those oafs with.” You give him your best puppy eyes, the word now feeling much more comfortable on your tongue.  
His reaction is priceless. You can see the internal struggle in his mind. His hand reaches up, gently caressing your lips, you can see he so wants you. “Fuck
” a glimmer of hope, his resolve seems to have cracked. That sure was easy. “No, absolutely none-negotiable. They stay with you at all times.” Perhaps you are a child, because right now you feel like throwing a tantrum.  
“But you said-” he laughs, and interrupts you. “As much as that word coming from you, makes me want to fuck you right here on the display floor, it doesn't mean you automatically get what you want. Manners are good from a cosita dulce like you, but your safety always come first.” No wonder his eyes are stormy like that. You're certain that your panties are as wet as can be and that you're red like a tomato.  
He can tell you're left speechless and continued with his conditions. “Be back before dinner, and I want a fashion show when I get home.” With that, he pulls you close, placing a kiss on your forehead and then proceeds to pay the deposit for the car rental. Leaving you a soaked mess, absolutely hungry for his bones. You will get him back for that. 
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Us Weekly: 
“Carlos Sainz and his girlfriend and his girlfriend spotted outside the Hotel de la Villa.”  
Glamour: 
“Carlos Sainz’ girlfriend spotted driving a Ferrari in Milan.”  
Mirror:  
“Y/N Y/S/N spotted spending big in Milan.”  
30 000 Dollars. The excitement to see her in that 30 000 made me rock hard all day. Some of them she posted on her story, which I keep track of religiously. But I know for a fact that that couldn’t be all of it. I saw the news articles; it gave me a great sense of pride seeing them finally call her by her name and not just as my girl.  
I made sure to make is home as quick as possibly, though, I don’t find her in her room or even mine. That is until, I ask the guards.  
The sight is truly delicious. It makes me disgusted by the pure amount of clothes I’m wearing, or the fact that these two idiots even dare look or be around her. Her arms are hanging lazily onto the side of the hot tub, her eyes staring out at the view of Italy. But the bikini she’s wearing should be illegal.  
It’s bright red, with delicate knots holding the thing together. One small tug and it will fall right off. Her body is so soft, her curves fill the bikini perfectly. Her hair in one of the claw clips that I bought her, messy and lazily done. Some of her locks falling out of place, making her neck look so ready to be kissed. Her waist curves and I just want to rip the damn thing off. 
“Leave,” my voice is stern and deeper than I thought it would be. She turns by the sound of my voice, and lightly treads her way to me. A huge looking cocktail in one hand, more than half empty. “Bonjour mon Carlito,” she winks at me, and I groan at her words. Where did she hear that, or is it the alcohol speaking?  
I bend down next to the hot tub. “Hola, mi niña bonita.” Her cheeks go red, “How many of these have you had?” I ask, referring to the mixed cocktail. She shrugs, “This is the first, but the night is still young.” I tsk and shake my head. “You know the deal, niña pequeña,” she whines and pushes out her bottom lip.  
I tsk and shake my head. “In any case, you have to show me what you got.” My finger gently caresses her cheek. After the night that she joined me in the bed, everything changes. Clearly, she is ready for more. Ready for the next step, even just a small one. More touches, more kisses on her cheek or her neck. Perhaps even a week or two from now, a kiss on the lips.  
Again, she pouts. My fingers find that bottom lip of her, if I kiss her now, there will be no wait. “Daddy, please come join me.” How on earth could I ever say no to eyes like that. That beg and plead and want. Those eyes that I could never in a million years say no to. I gently place a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll go change.” A wide smile covers her lips and her eyes sparkle.  
I’m quick, not even 5 minutes. The bubbles are a nice temperature, no hotter than the weather but no colder than 26 degrees Celsius. My hands instantly find her waist, she’s gazing at the view again. You can see the towns and people and far away mountains and farmlands. I don’t care about any of that.  
All I can think about is the feeling of her waist under my hand. Her back against my chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of her breath. The sweet, sweet smell of her. Sickly sweet ripe berries, hot honey on the tongue and home. She’d be such a good mother, if she and I... then she’d never be able to leave me.  
“What are you thinking about?” Her voice is like angels in my ears. I tuck a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, mostly just to feel her down-like skin. “You, I’m always thinking about you.” Her cheeks are pink but still a smirk is on her face. “You get this faraway look, somewhere special where I can’t possibly be.”  
I can only shake my head at her conclusion. “No, mi amor, you are my special place.” She giggles, the sound of fairies being born. “I’ve seen the interviews, years before we met you still have the same other dimension look.” She looks to chuff with herself. “That’s because I’ve been dreaming of someone like you since forever.”  
She laughs out loud, her head falling back and her drink almost tipping over. “You’re smooth, Mr Sainz.” Her words are music to my ears. The urge to kiss her is so strong. Instead, I make do with the sweet spot on her collarbone. “They do call me the smooth operator.” She rolls her eyes at me. “Full of yourself, aren’t you?”  
“How can’t I be, with such a beautiful lady sharing a hot tub with me. In the tiniest bikini might I add.” She hums and then does a slight turn, the water gracefully spinning around her. “You like?” Do I like? “Fucking hell, chica bebĂ©, I’m struggling to keep my hands off of you.” Then her eyes turn to that of a siren.  
“Why do you keep your hands to yourself?” Her tone is begging, a slight whimper in her voice. She might have had only one drink, but her tolerance must be low. Then her hands begin to roam my body. Her touch is like fire, lighting on my body and my loins ablaze. A groan leaves my mouth, the self-control is unbearable when her big doe eyes go sultry like that.  
Her hands make delicate contact with my stomach, pushing her chest against mine. She looks up at me through her lashes, a temptress that should be locked up. “Why won’t you touch me?” She takes my hand, so small in comparison and places it on her ass. “Why won’t you kiss me?” She lifts her chin, her lips mere millimetres from mine.  
“Fucking hell, chica bebĂ©, you are my weakness. Do not think for a moment that I don’t want to bury my cock deep into that warm cunt of yours. If I had it my way, I’d have you right here, right now. You’d never even leave the bed and be covered in marks of my making.” My words cause a whimper to leave her mouth, needy and wanting more than ever.  
“Then why deny yourself?” Now it’s my turn, I use both my hands and shove her up against the wall. My knees press up against the little amount of fabric that hides that sweet pussy of hers. My head right down against her ear. Kissing and nipping. Leaving purple marks against her neck. Fuck, I promised myself I wouldn’t do that until much later.  
I just can’t control myself when her legs wrap around my waist, the water splashes over the edge. Her arms pull me closer. “Because I like seeing you beg. I like hearing your pitiful whines as you beg me to fuck you, like the whore we both know you are. I’ve already given you so much and yet you still want more.”  
Her tender finger pull on my hair, now her lips are by my ear. “Please, daddy, please just use me already.” A deep chuckle escapes me. “See? So needy. But you see, mi pequeño, I can’t give you everything you want all at once. It’ll leave you ungrateful. And I don’t tolerate brats. I’m going to leave you wanting and needy. I’ll make the tension so much you’ll want me just as much as I need you.”  
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My taglist is open, just ask!
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justjams2003 · 3 months
Text
Fast Pace- 7
Also a very Merry Christmas to all those who celebrate! And Free Palestine.
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic.Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, tell me if I missed any
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis
Word count: 3,4k
Masterlist
Part 6~Part 8
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Us Weekly:  
“Carlos Sainz seen with a new girl on the paddock.”  
People Magazine:  
“Carlos Sainz’s new girl proves to be a fashion icon.”  
Elle Magazine: 
“Carlos Sainz seen dancing in the rain with his new girlfriend.”  
Cosmopolitan Magazine:  
“Is this new girl just a fling or here to stay?”  
You can see the news articles flash before you in full HD on the new phone Carlos got you. Fully signed in on everything. Not only that but your Instagram has blown up already. Ten thousand new followers since you last uploaded a picture with you standing by the paddock. You haven’t had time to reply to any comments or new dm’s, because you were on a flight 6 am Monday. 
“So, how was your first F1 weekend?” You know its Charles talking to you, but you’d much rather not even open your eyes right now. Eventually, you decide to be courteous, and you see he looks more than excited to talk to you. You gather up all your strength and put on the best smile you can. “It was a lot more fun than I expected. But there was also a lot of sitting around.”  
He nods and continues. “Yes, Alexandra usually stays home for most gp’s. She usually only comes for the important ones, like Italy where were going now. It’s strange that Carlos brought you to Zandvoort for your first time.” Your mind feels foggy and thinking of a reason why seems almost useless. Where is Carlos, can’t he do all this for you?  
“Yeah um, he was just so excited,” it seems good enough but thinking feels like such a chore. “Are you okay?” He asks, going closer to see if you’re okay. “Yeah, I’m uh fine...It’s just...” just then your saviour comes. Carlos sits down beside you, unaware of the conversation. “Are you not feeling better yet?” Almost instinctively you wrap your hands around his arm.  
You wouldn’t usually do this. Normally you’d be more aware of your relationship and making sure Carlos is ready. But right now thinking feels above your capacity. “Is she sick?” Charles asks and Carlos can feel the jealousy grow in his stomach. It takes everything in him not to glare at his teammate or tell him to back off.  
“Yeah, smoking withdrawals. I just don’t know what to do to help.” He pulls your hair out of your face. Charles sighs, “I’m sorry mate,” he pats you on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you then and get to know your girl later on.” When Charles is gone, Carlos takes you under the arms and pulls you closer into his arms, cradling you.  
“I got you something,” that gets you to look up but what is in his hands disappoint you. It’s a green smoothie and a big sandwich. “You brought me healthy food? You monster,” you groan taking the sandwich from him and taking a big bite. He chuckles but continues to rub circles on your back.  
“I don’t like Charles talking to you.” He mumbles, you know he’s talking to himself mostly. “He’s going to talk to me, Carlos. You take me everywhere, and where you go, he goes.” You chuckle, thinking back to the weekend. He only hums as a reply. “I’m sorry that I’m like this. I know you don’t want this.”  
You mumble, still enjoying your sandwich, taking sip from your fresh drink. He sighs and shakes his head. “You keep saying that. What on earth do you mean?” There is annoyance in his voice, you can hear it and it makes you stiffen. He’s never been annoyed with you before. “I read a few articles about our...agreement. They all say you daddies want stress-free, low-maintenance always happy girls.” 
He scoffs at you, “Siempre tan terca. Do you believe everything they say on the internet?” He asks, now regretting giving you the new phone and unlimited data plan. “So far what they’ve said about you and me has been true.” You shrug, finishing your sandwich as you think back. There were even TikTok's.  
“Oh yeah, and what do they say?” He asks, peering down as you finish your drink. “Well, that I’m incredibly fashionable and also a gold digger.” You chuckle watching as he rolls his eyes at you again. Then he stares you down, taking your chin between his fingers. “Didn’t I tell you, mi querida, you and I are more.”  
You can see his eyes flicker to your lips, and you’re entranced by his. The silence between you is deafening and you can feel your head spinning. “Can I kiss you?” the words are on the tip of your tongue, but you just don’t have the guts to ask. “I’m sorry you had a bad weekend.” He licks his lips and then takes your empty cup and paper and places it on the table.  
Carlos then takes you in his arms again and holds you tight once more. His smell almost seems to get rid of your headache. “It’s alright, this weekend will be better. I’m sure, because then you’ll feel better and you can be by my side. And with you by my side, the world championship will be mine in no time.”  
You giggle and curl yourself closer into his side. “Call it my 50%. Being your good luck charm.” He laughs and then pulls you closer to him. “I must warn you my dear, Italy is the home of Ferrari. The Tifosi are...enthusiastic to say the least.” His cheeks almost go pink at the thought of just how excited some of them can be.  
“They can’t be that bad...” you mutter, languidly making small circles on his thigh. He laughs, “I mean, without them we wouldn’t have met.” You turn on your back so that you can look up at him. “Was that the screaming I heard that day?” He smirks and nods. “Why were you running from them? And why didn’t you want to tell me then?” You ask, watching his eyes intensely like always.  
He leans back, now his hands are in your hair. You can feel your headache dissipating as his big strong hands untangle any knots that hid from you. “Sometimes, I just want to roam the streets of Paris without being bombarded to take photos. And I didn’t tell you because I was scared you might be one of them and have a... similar reaction.”  
You can’t help but let out a laugh. “Did it disappoint you when I didn’t fall to my knees and kiss your shoes?” He lets out a sigh at your shenanigans. “It was nice for someone to show me kindness because they are human not because of what I do.” This does make your heart melt; you can’t help yourself.  
You let your hands reach up and touch his cheek, letting his scruff tickle your hands. “Tell me, how can I be that person for you? What more can I do for you?” He takes your hand and holds it close before he places a kiss on your palm. “Don’t ever change. Not for me, not for your family, not for your future. Don’t ever let the world take away that smile, or that sprakle in your eyes.”  
His words bring tears to your eyes, and you can’t help but use the sleeves of your (his) hoodie to wipe away the forming tears. “Why do you cry, mi amor?” He asks, his brows furrowing to a point between his brows. You can just shake your head. “I’m just emotional, is all.” He shakes his head and the continues massaging your scalp.  
“Get some sleep, mi amor.”  
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You’re awoken by a door opening. Not a plane door, a hotel door. It takes a few moments to realise, but you’re tucked in deep into the soft comforter. The room is dark, and it doesn’t take long for your eyes to get use to the light. Then, you see Carlos coming closer and then squatting down next to the bed.  
“Good morning, sleepy head. I was starting to get worried that you’d gotten sick.” He says, pushing the hair out of your face. “Good morning?” You ask, starting to sit up, confused by the dark room. He smirks along with a chuckle. “Shall I open the curtains?” He then stands and you watch him as he walks across the hotel room to the window.  
The light floods in and you peak your head back under the covers. “What time is it?” You ask, listening as he walks about. “It’s about 12-ish.” This doesn’t seem so bad, but Carlos said you’d go to the gym as soon as you landed. The realisation causes you to throw the comforter off. 
He tsks, coming over and smoothing the furrow between your brows. “Why would you let me sleep that long?” You ask with just a bit of a whine in your tone. “Because you are sick and need the rest.” You huff and push out your bottom lip. “I missed our first gym session,” you whine. For once you were looking forward to it and you can see by his wet hair that he already went and already showered.  
After all, you did see the Instagram story he posted on Friday morning. The thought of seeing him hot and sweaty is enough to get your workout shoes on. Again, he tsks and shakes his head. “Not while you’re recovering. You can take a walk, get some fresh air but that is it until you start to feel better.”  
Carlos’ voice is stern and leaves no room to argue. For now, you’ll just have to continue keeping a close eye on his Instagram. “I bought something for you.” He smiles, walking over to the bag he had placed on the couch in the hotel room. There is a pep in his step. He brings over two boxes and two bags, both from name brands that you’ve only ever dreamed of owning.  
He looks so excited to see you open the boxes and honestly you too are gleaming with elation. The first box is flat and you open it to pull out a beautiful hand spun white boho maxi-dress. “It’s hotter in Italy,” he explains before you open the next box. Its beautiful brown woven sandals to match with the boho effect. Lastly, the bag.  
The shopping bag has the unmistakable Prada logo. “You shouldn’t have,” you mutter feeling your heartbeat rise. His glare makes you want to eat your words. You take the bag out as if it is ancient Chinese porcelain. The bag matches perfectly with the sandals. The same brown with the same woven effect.  
“Oh, it’s gorgeous Carlos, thank you so much.” You reach over and pull him tight into a hug. You can smell his musky deodorant and it makes you never want to let go. “I saw all these and instantly thought of you.” He smiles and then continues. “Lastly, they made special Ferrari merch for Italy.” He explains, taking out the red, yellow and black shirt. Along with a cap with the same colour theme.  
“You like them? They make me think more Spanish flag than Italy. It suits you,” you smirk with a raised brow. Once again reminded by his strong accent. He only shrugs, “Doesn’t really matter if I like them or not. Wear or don’t wear, that’s up to you.” You gasp and this time it’s your turn to scold them.  
“No, Carlos. You must stand up for yourself.” He smirks at your reaction and raises his brow. “Is that so? I’ll keep that in mind next time you push out that bottom lip of yours.” He replies, giving your lip a swipe and then going on. “Now go get dressed. We’re going out for brunch; you must be hungry.”  
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“The view is really beautiful, hold on let me send you guys a photo.” You take a picture from the balcony. In clear view is a beautifully crafted, over 500-year-old church. Not only that but you have a perfectly clear view of the circuit. If you wanted to, you could watch the race from the balcony. Knowing Carlos, he would prefer it so.  
“Woah, girl. Isn’t that so cool? In a five-star hotel in Italy right next to the formula one track.” Jasmine says over the phone. You can’t help but chuckle. “How are you feeling?” Ilsa asks, not as impressed by the fancy location. “Better, he’s really been taking good care of me.” You explain thinking back. “Oo, do tell.” It’s Jas again.  
“He let me sleep in his arms on the plane and even tucked me in and let me sleep more. He woke me up with gifts,” you can’t talk more before Jasmine demands to know what the gifts are. “He got me this beautiful dress, and brand-new shoes. Both name brand. And you’ll never guess what.” You begin but don’t even allow them to guess. “He got me my very first Prada bag.”  
You can hear screaming through the phone while you send them a photo. As well as the Instagram photos Carlos took for you. “He took these photos for you?? Damn girl, he knows all your best angles.” You blush at Jas’ words. “It seems all too good to be true...” Ilsa seems to speak your thoughts out loud.  
“Yes, there are some small things that seem a bit odd.” They both go a bit quiet. “Like?” Ilsa asks, and you know this might ring alarm bells for them. “He has these two bodygaurds to follow me everywhere.” You get two wildly different reactions. Jas coos and Ilsa gasps. “And I feel a bit like he’s babying me.”  
Ilsa asks for you to explain. “Well he’s working with a dietitian to make sure I get all my daily vitamins, and once I get better, he got me a personal trainer.” They both are dead silent. “That is a bit strange...” This time it’s Jasmine talking. “That doesn’t seem normal at all,” it’s Ilsa talking, and you know she’s right.  
“But it’s the terms I agree too so I can’t really say anything about it.” There isn’t much else to be said. “I suppose, but as soon as he crosses a line, you’ll leave him, right?” Ilsa asks and you bite your lip. “That’s the thing. He hasn’t tried to do anything to me, even once. He’s been nothing but kind to me. He keeps saying he and I will become something more but so far it’s only been words.”  
They hum as a reply, “Maybe you should make the first move?” Jas suggests and Ilsa scolds her for it. “That’s the thing, I don’t know if I want that. What if it makes things weird between us? What if I do make the first move and that’s all he sees me as after? What if I do make a move and he just wanted someone to talk to and he ditches me?” You can hear your friends roll their eyes at you. “You’re overthinking it, Y/N. If it’s meant to be, it will be. For now, just enjoy the lavish life and look hot. That’s your job.”  
The conversation plays in your head over and over. Who is right? Jasmine or Ilsa? Should you just enjoy the luxuries he gives you, or question his actions? Why is he doing all this for you? You read online that Sugar Daddies like to spoil. Take their babies on trips and buy them anything and everything. But do they form diet plans and make sure you get a full 8 hours of sleep?  
Do they tuck you into bed at night, and get you medication to help with smoking withdrawals? Do they hire a personal trainer to make sure you stay in healthy body? Do they tell you, you’re their person and promise to visit your family? Are there lines being crossed? Should you be more wary? Or should you just shut up and enjoy it?  
You toss and turn at night. It’s already 2 in the morning, Carlos had you going to bed at ten. Like you said, he wants you getting a full night’s rest. You just can’t sleep. Likely due to the withdrawals but also due to the storming thoughts in your mind. And you remember feeling this same way all of last weekend.  
The only other thing that got you to sleep last weekend, was Carlos. Being wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his scent. Now that you’re sleeping in separate rooms, would it be weird for you to ask for him to hold you? How weird is that? Would that be considered making the first move? You know for a fact that Carlos would be seething if he found out you didn’t sleep at all.  
You open the door, there are different bodyguards here. Likely the night shift and it feels so eerie to have them standing there. There aren’t even any by his door and you know other drivers are staying here and you haven’t seen them have any bodyguards. “Um, excuse me?” You grab their attention, but they don’t seem to notice.  
“Do you maybe have a keycard for Carlos’ room?” The taller of the two reaches into his breast pocket, pulls out a keycard and then hands it to you. “Thank you,” you smile up at him but get little reaction. You keep across the hall and open his door with a click.  
His room is the same as yours, but reversed. You can see from here that he is sound asleep. You can feel a pang of guilt hit you at just the thought of waking him up for something this silly. He looks so peaceful, not stressed, or anxious about his future. No he seems entirely at content to be drifting away in Dreamland.  
Do you really have to wake him? Can't you just return? It's a nice thought, but you can't help but remember last weekend. You were too exhausted to even enjoy the energy and the surrealism of the moment. You spent most of the time as a zombie in Carlos' room. And when the actual finished, you had been sitting in the garage and only registered when Carlos came up to you.  
Needless to say he was furious when he found out truly just how little you slept. And how well you hid it from him. You'd gotten use to putting up a smile and hiding the exhaustion from the people most important to you. He told you that your health was on the same level of priority as his racing to him. Which, honestly, blew your mind.  
Your health has always been on the back burner. Something you'll worry about when you have more money and more time. Now you have an abundance of both and still can't help but ignore it. Because if you adress it, it makes it real.  
Now, as you stand besides his bead, you can't help but feel like a child. Is that how he sees you? As a responsiblity he's here to dress and take care of? Is that why he won't kiss you? Why his touch is soft and gentle and never show anything more than worry?  
If you leave now, you know for a fact those goons outside your door will definitely tell him. Likely, they would tell him that you didn't sleep too. Just do it! You had practiced the words so well before. This is the first time you've truly wanted for something. He's taken care of everything else before you could even think about it. But now you have to ask him for something.  
You gently tap his arm, no reaction. He must be a deep sleeper. This time you shove a bit harder, it's difficult to see exactly what you're shoving especially with the black out curtains. This time, however, he does stir and you can only assume awoke when words spill from his mouth.  
“What is wrong, mi dulce chica?” He asks, already his hand gently caressing your arm. You take a deep breath in and try not to think of your next words too much. “Daddy, I can't sleep.” You can't see his reaction but soon after he opens up the duvet and his arms. Queuing for you to join him.  
This. This is exactly what you needed. He cradles your head between his arms. Your knees pressed between his legs. You body perfect matching his. That small. The smell of a hot summer day. Of his musky deodorant and what you can only describe as a day in the beach. If you could bottle his scent, you're certain you'd make millions.  
You had so many questions that you wanted to ask him. But now as you're cuddled in his arms, your thoughts just melt away. Into a nice and warm sheen over your body. Sleep comes easy.
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justjams2003 · 3 months
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Fast Pace-6
I do apologize to everyone who has been waiting so so long for this. I was shadowbanned and didn't want to upload anything while, because then you guys can't read it :(. But now, you guys can!
Summary: You're a hard-working Chef in Paris and after a freak accident run-in with Carlos Sainz, your life makes a 180. Let's just say with a certain agreement, you get your bills paid and in return stand in as Carlos' girlfriend for the press. But will you be able to handle the pressure and ensure the lines don't blur?
Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Carlos Sainz x Sugar Baby!Reader
Warnings: I've aged up Carlos, he is 33 in this fic. Smoking, smut, sexual themes, age difference, manipulation, control, slight obsession, the word 'daddy', tell me if I missed any
Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @s-silk
Taglist: @httpjeonlicious, @f1lov3r, @messersandmesses, @hollie911, @oriconde08 @thehufflepuffavenger1 @fanboyluvr @thatgirlmj @whyamireadingthis @oriconde08 @depressedriches @roseseraj @skepvids @sain55wifey @distinguishedvoidlady @amatswimming @sachaa-ff @lightdragonrayne @lazybot @dark-night-sky-99 @formula1mount @fangirl-dot-com @saintslewis
Word count: 2,9k
Masterlist
Part 5~Part 7
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A loud thunder crack causes a few people in the restaurant's head to snap up to the sky. Including my dear Y/N. Is she scared of thunder? Caco did not tell me this.  
Usually, my mind would immediately worry about the race. How will the rain affect the car? How will the rain affect the track? How the rain affect my driving? Not now, ever since saw her for the first-time racing has been at the far back of my mind. If Caco or any of the Ferrari team knew this, they’d want to get rid of her as soon as possible. But if she has to leave so do I.  
Her big brown eyes look up to me with concern and it just makes me want to wrap her up in my arms and never let go. Now, I worry about her getting wet. She might get sick or slip and fall. I did not bring an umbrella. I bring up my phone and go to dial the driver, but I’m interrupted before I can make the call.  
“What are you doing?” Those delicate brows of hers pull together while she asks me. “I’m calling a driver.” We haven’t finished eating, barely halfway through the meal but I’d kick myself if she develops a cold so soon in my care. There is a twinkle in her eyes and a smile pulls at her cheeks. “Why would you do that?” I can’t help but want to know what she is thinking.  
“I don’t want you to get sick, querida.” I lean forward, wanting to take her hand and caress it, but I’m not sure if she’ll allow me yet. A small laugh, a gentle one, she’s clearly amused with me, escapes her lips. “I’m sure a little rain won’t hurt. I’m not made of sugar.” She shrugs and can’t imagine that someone has such little care for their well-being. Especially someone as valuable as her.  
Consistently, my brow raises. “Care to explain the medical bills I paid then?” Her cheeks light up and her eyes drag down to her shoes again. Now that her hair is down, she insists on hiding behind it. But when her eyes meet me again, she seems to beg for me to forget about it. How could I ever forget anything about her? “In any case, for me you are made candy floss.”  
“You know, that reminds me of a poem. The author of it unknown, some people accredit it to Shakespear but clearly, they did not pay attention in English class if they think that. The true poet is unknown, but some consider it to be Qyazzirah Syeikh Ariffin. He says that you love the rain, but you open your umbrella. You love the sun but hide in the shade. It goes on but later he says that he fears what it means to be loved.”  
Her words are so captivating, and her mind is something that I’d get lost in. The words she speaks, to me it’s like listening to a professor. One who has studied years to know exactly what they are saying. If she was my teacher, I’d get 100%, because I’d cling to her every word. If I could have her talking forever, I’d make sure I will live forever so that I may hear every word.  
“How do you know this?” I ask, needing her to say more. She gives the cutest shrug. “It was between cooking or teaching English. I thought I’d make more money cooking and my parents wanted me to choose something more stable.” My blood boils thinking her parents wouldn’t support her true dream. How could they not see the beauty I see?  
“But do you like it? The cheffing I mean.” She seems to think for a moment, biting her lip. If she does it, one more time I wonder if I’ll have control. But I must, I can’t scare her off. I can’t bear to lose her. And I won’t. Not of my own doing and not by anybody else’s. I’ll give her the world and make sure no one can give her anything else or take anything from her.  
“Um... I did, at the beginning. When I could move to the centre of France, Paris. When I got to be independent, but it soon turned out to be more than I bargained for. I quickly got sick, because I wasn’t eating well. My mind wanders and it would take my mother calling for me to realise I hadn’t eaten. And then I fell behind on the bills. The stress made me smoke more which made me sicker.” Ah I see.  
The big world just got too much for my baby. She’s too small to know how to care for herself. I see now why she needs me so. Her mind wanders to a fantasy world. She wants to be someone big and important. And paramount people don’t have to worry about those small things like what to eat and drinking enough water.  
“Are you feeling any withdrawals yet? I know it was a bit thing to ask but you must know that I just want you to be as healthy as possible. So that you can enjoy all the things in life I want to give you.” She gives a coy smile and shakes her head. “No, it’s the least I can do for all you’ve done so far. I thought I’d be stuck with that debt for the rest of my life.”  
She rolls her eyes just thinking about it. I could see the moment the money was transferred that her shoulders got lighter, and her smile got brighter. I won’t let another thing in the world affect her like this. Nothing will ever again sit on her shoulders. “If you feel even slightly off tell me immediately.” She nods, hiding her face again.  
It irritates me, I want to see her as much as I can. I reach up and tuck her hair behind her ear. I’ll have to get her some hair accessories, just to make sure she doesn’t hide from me anymore.  
Because I can get her anything. She has me to provide for her and make sure that she stays in the most pristine condition. Now she can go of in her fantasy world and I’ll stay on earth to make her bubble doesn’t burst. “So, you don’t want to work as a cook anymore?” I need to ask, and I need to know exactly what her dreams consist of so that I may make it a reality.  
Again, she bites her lip, and I can feel my trousers grow tight. How on earth has she been roaming this earth? How are people not fighting tooth and nail to be in my position? “I think I’d much prefer something...slower. Less stressful, you know? I’d like to cook, yes, but rather at home or maybe even have my own show!”  
The excitement twinkles in her eyes again and I must know more. “When I was younger, my mother would teach me how to cook and I’d always imagine that I'm on a program. We’d watch master chef and I’d always imagine being Christina Tosi or Amandine Chaignot. But even then more than anything I wanted to be involved in fashion. In any shape or form. Even if I had to cook to the models.”  
She laughs, ever so slightly and I can see the memories flash behind her eyes. Then it will be so. Then suddenly we can both hear a slight pitter patter fall on the roof top. Her eyes instantly snap right over my shoulder. Watching as the pavement turn from concrete grey to cloudy grey.  
“As I was saying before. If it rains I am not afraid to get wet. If it snows I will not be afraid of the cold. And if I ever fall in love I hope I treat it the same.” I can’t help but lean in closer. I can’t help myself. In every sense I need to be as close as possible to her. Even if, for now, I don’t know if she wants me to be as near as I want to be.  
But when she looks up at me with those big doe eyes, my actions become uncontrolable. Her gaze makes me feel like a prescious jewel being discovered for the first time. Even if it is her who is Painite, rarer than Diamonds, rarer than Emeralds. Her hands are just too resistable, her skin too soft. I take her hand in mine, but refuse to look anywhere but her hypnotic eyes.  
I bring her knuckles to my lips and place a slow, gentle kiss. “You promise?” Her fair cheeks turn a rosy pink colour. She bites her lips and it takes everything in me not to kiss her. “I can’t make any promoses, Carlos. Emotions aren’t to be controlled or guarenteed. They are free and wild and only earned.”  
“Then I will earn your heart.”  
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My heart breaks that I had to leave her, but my personal trainer had been blowing up my phone. I know he’s right. I know I have to keep my body up to standard for the racing. Even then, my mind is still with her. I had let her play in the rain after our late lunch. I could see in her eyes that she so badly wanted to play.  
I told her that I’ll buy her everything all over again just to see her happy. Just to see her enjoy herself I’d let her rip the entire hotel appart. This did make her smile and it melted my heart. I didn’t care for the people staring, or the people taking pictures. All I see is the twinkle in her eyes and those cheeks become round with a wide smile.  
When I left her, her nose and cheeks were rosy pink and she was cold to the touch. I told her to take a shower and bundle up. I was honestly struggling to keep my head straight while gyming. The thought of the water fallings over those soft curves of hers makes me hot and heavy. It makes me adrenaline go crazy and my mind fuzzy. My trainer said I hit a new PR on the weights.  
I had been gone for at least an hour or two, but the sun had long since set. The girls I’d been with before, yes they were kind, yes they were sweet, but they just weren’t her. It was the moment I set my eyes on her in that restuarant, I knew I had to have her. They feared the public eye, they wanted nothing to do with the most important parts of my life. She craves it, she’s there whenever I need her.  
I found her curled up on the couch. She’d taken the extra cushions and comforters and build herself a bed there. The blankets are all the way up to her nose. She’s curled into a little ball. Taking up as little space as possible. My heart flutters and my cock goes hard. I need a shower.  
Why would she do that? Hadn’t I told her to sleep on the bed? Why does she insist on defying me when all I do is for her betterment? Terco como siempre. I prepare the bed, making sure there isn’t a single then wrong. I pick her up bridal style, up close I can hear the very light snores. She doesn’t wake, however, she cuddles up closer to me. And when I tuck her in nice and close and can’t help but notice how innocent she looks with her new pj’s.  
She clings to my shirt when I lay her down, in her subconscious she needs me as much as I need her. More than the money, more than the fame, more than the job. She wants me, she needs me. I am nothing without her and I must make sure that I will never loose her.  
After the shower, she’d thrown the duvet off to the side. She’d spread out across the bed and her shirt had ridden up right under her breast. And suddenly I need a cold shower again. Her skin is soft, like a freshly hatched dove. Her skin the same colour too and I can’t but want her to get more sun.  
My hands move without control again. Her delicate curves are like a magnet to my body. I make sure to be as soft and slow as I can, to not make a noise. Just slightly hovering above her small body. My lips make contact with the arch of her collarbone, just small gentle kisses. I do not make a sound, but she sure does. Smalls whimpers and whines escape her lips.  
Mi pequeña wants this. Still deep in sleep, but her hands grab for me. Yearn for me, like I do to her. Just soft, almost ticklish kisses on her collar. Worshipping her like I so badly want to. But, for now, I won’t take it any further. Call it but a goodnight kiss. I slept on the couch, otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to control myself.  
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“Dulce niña, what happened here? Did you hurt yourself while I was gone?” Carlos’ hands come up to your neck. You instantly notice how his hands are big enough to wrap around your entire neck, you’re sure. Your brows intertwine, you know what he’s talking about. You tried curling your hair, to look good if there are cameras, but clearly you need more practice.  
His brows furrow and concern fill his eyes. The look in his eyes is the same as last night, in your dreams. You can remember his big stromg arms taking holding you. Of those storming eyes commanding you to scream his name. If he found out about these filthy dreams you had, you’d sink into the ground of embarresment. He’s a classy guy who hasn’t asked for anything more than a smile, now you’re the one thinking of his skin on yours.  
 Not only that but you woke up in the bed this morning, even after going to bed on the couch. You and your girls had been talking for longer than you’d realised, likely falling asleep while on the phone call. They’d been just as excited as you were about the whole day. Both of them swooning and wishing their partners would do and say what he does.  
You heard him coming back while you were getting ready. “No, no, don’t start with that mister.” You say, jabbing him in his chest. He’s sweaty and had clearly just come back from the gym. It’s already 07:30. His eyebrows furrow together. “I told you that I’d sleep on the couch. You are a very important person and need your full rest.”  
A smirk forms on his face and it only makes you more annoyed. He crosses his arms and leans back, clearly done listening. “You already take care of me, give me a chance to take care of you. Relationships are 50/50. Even the more...unconventoinal ones.” You can’t help but hold onto his shirt, really wanting to drive the point home. “I agree, you tell me what you want and I give it to you. 50/50.”  
You fold your arms together and roll your eyes. “Vous ĂȘtes impossible.” Something compared to a growl escapes his throat. He pulls you close to him by the hips. “I like it when you talk French to me.” Then his hand grazes your collar again. “Now tell me, what happened.” Concern is etched into his eyes and his touch is as gently as can be.  
You shrug, “I wanted to curl my hair, but I haven’t used the curling iron in a few years...” He looks confronted with your words. “If you know you can’t use it, why risk hurting yourself.” He tucks a strand of now wavy hair behind your ear. You shrug and look up at him, “I wanted to impress you.” He lets out a loud laugh and takes your face in his hands.  
“You’re too cute. What’d I do to have someone like you share a hotel room with me?” His eyes look and it makes you feel so warm inside. “You paid me,” your answer is blunt but the truth. You’re still not entirely sure where you stand in this strange relationship. He laughs just like before, “That reminds me, I got you something.”  
He then opens his gym bag and then pulls out a handfull of things. He hands them to you and you can see it’s a bunch of hair accesories. A gold headband, a gold claw clip and some scrunchies of various colours. You furrow your brows at him and he ecplains himself by taking the headband and carefully guiding it across your hair. “I don’t like how you hide from me. This should make sure that you can’t anymore.” Your cheeks go pink, he noticed.  
“Can I ask you a really strange question?” You’re not sure why now you decided to ask the question that’s been forming in your bind. It just slipped out and when he looks at you like that you don’t have much control anymore. “Always.” He smiles, still fixing your hair.  “Do I have to call you daddy?”  
His hand stops and his eyes meet yours. He forms a slight grin and then pulls your closer by the shoulders. He bends down low and then whispers in your ear. “Only when you want something.”  
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justjams2003 · 3 months
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Thank you to everyone who got me to 10000 likes!
I'd like to thank everyone so much for bringing me to this point. Such a huge Christmas present đŸ„°
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justjams2003 · 3 months
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Fantastic news! Tumblr has responded to my emails confirming it was just a glitch and it has been fixed! I am so so so overjoyed by this news. Call it my Christmas gift!
Fast Pace will be resuming then the 26th of December. Can't wait to see everyone's reactions!
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justjams2003 · 3 months
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Fast Pace
Just finished writing Fast Pace. Now I'm just waiting to be unbanned in order to post them all. 10 More chapters. Can't wait for everyone's reactions. Let's just hope @tumblr does their job...
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