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#carlos sainz x you
norris55s · 1 day
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chaotic texts - carlos sainz
reader x carlos sainz texts, except they’re crazy
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sunny44 · 2 days
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Lost in the Paddock
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Girlfriend!reader
Warnings: none, just a lil blurb
Summary: A few drivers got an eye on Carlos girlfriend.
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The paddock was bustling as always, and I walked through it trying to find the Ferrari garage. It was easy to get lost in the confusion of teams, mechanics, and journalists, and that's exactly what happened to me.
Carlos and I have been together for 4 years, but I had never been to a race before and was trying to find my way around. I was already familiar with his world, so that's why we decided to keep our relationship hidden.
As I walked, I could feel the curious looks of some reporters, fans, and even some drivers since I was wearing the Ferrari badge.
Among them were drivers like Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, and Charles Leclerc, and from what Carlos told me about them, I knew they were cool.
Lando was the first to approach, with his bright and confident smile.
"Hey, you seem lost. Need any help?" I smiled politely, trying not to reveal my nervousness.
"Yeah, I'm actually very lost," I smiled nervously, and he chuckled.
"I'm Lando, by the way."
"Oh, I know your name, I'm Y/n.”
"It's a beautiful name. Just like the owner." He smiled, and I saw Max and Charles approaching.
"Thank you. Actually, I'm looking for the Ferrari garage."
"Or you could come with me to Red Bull. Our garage is much cooler, and I'm Max, by the way." I felt flattered by their attention, and I had to hold back from laughing because they really had no idea who I was.
"He's lying, the Ferrari garage is much better, and I would love to take you there."
He smiled, and if I didn't love Carlos, surely that smile and those dimples would have won me over.
I was startled when I felt arms around my waist and recognized the hands immediately.
"Hiii baby.” I turned and held his face, kissing him.
"Hey hermosa, I thought you'd arrive later," he smiled and looked at the three behind me.
"Why the shocked faces? And what are you doing around my girlfriend?"
"She's your girlfriend?" Lando asked shocked.
"Wait, you have a girlfriend?" Charles said.
"Since when?" This time it was Max.
"Like 4 years ago," he said.
"4 YEARS?" Lando shouted and got a slap from Max.
"Why do you look so shocked? As if it were impossible for me to have a girlfriend."
“It's just that she's WOW, and you're you," Lando said, and I laughed.
“Oh, thanks for calling me ugly."
“It's not that, it's just that she's way out of your league.”
“And way more out of yours so back so stop drooling, all three of you.” he said, taking my hand.
"Bye, boys, it was nice meeting you, and thanks for the help.” I said, waving to them.
“You don't think I'm ugly, do you?" He asked, and I started laughing.
“Of course not, in fact, I think you're very very hot." I gave him a peck on the cheek, and he smiled as we headed to the Ferrari garage.
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Bonus scene!
Carlossainz Instagram stories
“Yes, I have a hot girlfriend!!!!!”
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529 notes · View notes
leclercdream · 14 hours
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maroon
this is part 2 of maroon
✮⋆˙ when carlos breaks reader’s heart, lando is ready to mend it
✮⋆˙ ex carlos sainz x singer!reader | bestfriend lando norris x singer!reader
✮⋆˙ warnings: cheating, carlos is an asshole, slut shaming
✮⋆˙ tofi talks: thanks for the love on part 1! one last part coming soon x please ignore dates
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others
yourusername: my new album GOOD RIDDANCE out march 27! presave in my bio 💜
this project means a lot to me and i hope you love it as much as i do. i can’t believe this is my first full album!!
i also wanted to thank you from the bottom of my heart for all the love you are giving to MAROON 🍒 i wrote this song at 3a.m. in my best friend’s room, crying my little pisces heart out and accepting that sometimes letting go is for the better. i never expected it to get big, it was just an outlet for me, so again, thank you a million times!
this one is for you, you know who you are.
view 839 comments
landonorris: woop woop landonorris: i’m so incredibly proud of you landonorris: please let me listen to the whole album :(
yourusername: not yet 🤍 lilyzneimer: babe CAN I? i just know a few of these are love songs. oscarpiastri: me too please x yourusername: sending u the link for tmr!!! user1: WHICH ONE ARE LOVE SONGS!????yourusername: i don’t kiss and tell x user2: BITCH ALDNWNS
maxverstappen: P is so excited to hear it!
yourusername: i will send you the link to the early listening party 💜
user3: carlos liking this 😥 the audacity this mas has user4: why is no one talking about the last part guys, is it for lando? carlos???
user5: its not always about them u know?
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yourusername just posted a story
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replies
landonorris: can’t wait to see you tonight landonorris: you look beautiful yourusername: lan 🥺 thank u love, got pretty for u!!! landonorris: i’m giggling and kicking my feet landonorris: think about what i told you yourusername: i already said yes lan 🤭
oscarpiastri: why is lando blushing? what did you do? yourusername: lol yourusername: he asked me out on a date and i said yes? 👉🏻👈🏻 oscarpiastri: KALSW SUAVW YN!!!! oscarpiastri: sorry lily took over oscarpiastri: that’s amazing tho, told you he likes you! yourusername: don’t you think it’s too soon? after everything that happened? :/ be honest oscarpiastri: nah, after what carlos did you are allowed to move on. plus if you listen carefully to your songs lando and you are long overdue yourusername: thank u osc 🤍 please take carlos out on the next race yourusername: kidding!!! (not) oscarpiastri: at your service (kidding) (not)
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lando.jpg
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liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, kellypiquet and others
lando.jpg: yourusername just finished the first leg of her tour looking beautiful as ever. in honour of new year’s day being played today you can have that picure we took drunk at said party
view 920 comments
user1: i thought this was a yn post lol
user2: the second picture i’m screaming!!! the fact that she was dating carlos at the time yet she always looked at him like that 🥺
user3: slut behaviour
oscarpiastri: i’m so normal about this
yourusername: my favorite photographer ever 🤍
yourusername: glad you could make it tonight!! let’s get a podium tomorrow so we can go home and rest
lando.jpg: yes ma’am
maxverstappen1: Did you do it?
landonorris: yes maxverstappen1: What did she say? landonorris: yes maxverstappen1: 🤝🏻👍🏻 user3: what is this user4: they have such a weird relationship i swear
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yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, lilymhe and ohters
yourusername: highnobiety thank you so much for having me! martietomanova shooting with you is a real rare joy. link in bio if you wanna read my interview taking about silly things and my new album! view 923 comments
user1: my jaw is on the floor
user2: lando must be loosing it rn lol about to risk it all
oscarpiastri: you are correct user2: nooo dont expose him lol
landonorris: asdjqenxf
landonorris: WHAT IS THIS
landonorris: YN???????
landonorris: please pick up the phone im so in love with you *deleted*
landonorris: GORGEOUS GORGEOUS WOMAN
landonorris: stop looking at her PLEASE im going insane
landonorris: you are the most beautiful human being on this whole world
yourusername: 🤭🤭 im blushing yourusername: see u soon? landonorris: YES landonorris: im picking u up RIGHT NOW landonorris: i would risk everything for you *deleted*
user3: anyone else saw lando’s deleted comments? boys down bad haha
user4: i love how as soon as she broke up with him he started showing he likes her lol long overdue
last part coming soon
taglist: @evie-119 @landossainz @noneofyallsbusiness @ladyblablabla @likedbygaslyy @softiecaro @1655clean @willowpains @lightdragonrayne if your name is crossed out i couldnt tag you
363 notes · View notes
Text
CS55E3
Pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader
Genre: smut
Warnings: blowjob (male receiving), pole dancing (lol), sex
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You caught him staring at you. A tall and handsome man whom you were sure was way more than a few years older than you. You felt tingly- the way his darkening eyes were checking you out. You waited until his eyes finished scanning your body and landed on yours. You slightly smirked at him with a raised eyebrow. He chuckled back with a slight shrug. You rose your glass addressing him and he reflected your actions.
Smiling at yourself, you bottomed your drink and went over to the dance floor where your friends were at. It was a typical uni weekend where you had decided along with your roommates to hit the club. The minute you did hit the club word had gotten out that there’d be some drivers from the race that was held earlier that evening.
Dancing your way into the middle, you let yourself get lost in the music. Your friends circled you, the blonde one next to you leaning into whisper, “There’s this like super hot guy who’s checking you out.”
The one next to her, winked at you while acting all surprised. You swatted her shoulder sending a smirk her way.
“I heard he’s a part of the group of racing drivers who dropped by- Carlos Sainz,” your friend whispered.
“He’s probably not the fastest when it comes to getting girls I guess. He’s been looking but not doing nothing,” you screamed back at her over the music.
Unbeknowst to you and your friends, the handsome guy you guys were talking about was lurking close by and he happened to hear the comment you had just made on him. Chuckling at your naivety, he inched closer to you. Your friends nodded at him approvingly and moved onto their dancing partners.
As the music and lights changed to the new song being played, you felt a strong pair of arms envelope your waist. You leaned into the chest knowing exactly who it was.
“I’m not fast enough?” A thick Spanish accent asked.
Grinning at the question you turned yourself around in his arms and hooked your hands around his neck, moving along to the beat of the music.
“Took you some time, Carlos” you teased him.
“So you know me?” He asked with an amused smile.
“Happened to hear your name.”
He chuckled at that knowing you were playing hard to get. But he wanted you. He wanted you now and he would do anything to get that. The minute he had laid his eyes on you when you went over to the bartender to get your drink- in a dress that sparkled so bright he could see you as you walked over to the dance floor, strutting over to your friends.
You looked back at him feeling bold, “Wanna get outta here?”
Pulling you closer to him, Carlos replied back, “Hell yeah.”
Smiling at his response, you clasped your fingers around his much larger hand and dragged him out the club. On your way out to the back, you waved at one of your frequent friends who let you access the VIP lounges at the club. Carlos simply followed you as you took him up the stairs and into a room with darkened glass. From above you could see the entirety of the club but from below no one could see what was going on up there.
Locking the door, you pushed Carlos to the sofa and went over to the pole in the middle of the room. Meanwhile Carlos poured himself a drink. Spreading his jean clad thighs further apart he got comfortable in the sofa. You looked at him with lust filled eyes and twirled yourself around the pole, keeping his keen eyes on your bending figure.
Carlos watched in interest, his pants getting tighter around the crotch and his mind crowding with the things he wanted do to you.
The music was louder in the room than it was downstairs. You let yourself drown to the music as you showed off some pole dancing skills you had learned when you had come over for private parties with your friends up here. And then the when the music changed you got off the pole and crawled over to where Carlos was seated. You made sure to swing your hips as you moved closer to him. Carlos downed his drink when you sat yourself right in front of him.
You leaned up to kiss him and he grabbed the back of your neck doing exactly what you wanted. Hot, passionate lips clashed onto each other as you moved your hands all over his clothed thighs. Pushing yourself off of him, you signaled at his jeans. Carlos obliged, unzipping them and letting you do the rest. You pulled them down to wear you could see his throbbing & veiny dick clearly.
Looking back up at him and making sure to maintain that eye contact you went down on him, taking as much as you could at once. The rest was covered using your steadily moving hands. Carlos groaned at the feeling of your velvety mouth envelope around his erection and let you do your thing for a while. When he was getting closer, he wrapped his fingers around your hair and deep throated you making you almost gag around him. All the while you looked back up at him as mascara painted tears ran down your face.
He tapped the side of your mouth and you let go of his dick with pop.
“I wanna cum inside you cariño,” he demanded at you with a stern voice.
Sliding out of your panties, you sat atop him while he locked in your lips again, pulling you into a heated makeout session. You panted as you humped yourself on his thigh.
“Want you,” you panted in the middle while you tugged at his hair, “inside me. Now!”
It took Carlos no more convincing, and within a matter of movements he was inside you. You dug your head into his shoulder as you took in the scent from the shirt he was wearing. Lifting your head up a little you placed kissed on his neck and whispered, “Fuck me Carlos.”
Guiding your hips he set your pace. As exhausted as you felt you kept going wanting to feel you reach your high. When Carlos was close as he subdued his fast pace to slower and deeper thrusts. You held onto his shoulders as he marked hickies all over your chest.
“I’m close,” you murmured at him.
“Come with me baby,” he muttered back, “Fuck just like that.”
With that, the ever twisting coil inside you came undone and you felt his whites warming up your insides at the same time.
You tried to catch your breath as you laid your head against his chest. Too exhausted to speak or anything.
“You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had,” you murmured as you lifted your head up to peck him on the lips.
Carlos slightly chuckled at your comment, feeling himself going soft inside you. But the moment you stirred when he guided your face to leave a ravishing kiss he got hard again. With widened eyes you broke off the kiss and looked back up at him.
“Shall we continue this in my hotel room?”
Leaning down to seal a kiss in agreement to his suggestion, you rolled off of him and pulled your panties back up.
Before you were walked out of the private room Carlos pulled you into a kiss and spoke to the shell of your ear,
“This was way better than winning the race.”
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spideysl0ve · 1 day
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݁ . 𔘓 ؛ recovery
⇢ masterlist
⇢ carlos saiz x f!reader.
⇢ summary: where carlos is having trouble staying still recovering from his appendix surgery so y/n helps him relax.
⇢ tw: just very short, very short but very fluffy.
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“carlos you’ve got to rest” you repeated again, hugging your boyfriend’s back while he was trying again to lift your little puppy. “leave ollie, you can’t pick him up now” you whispered, he groaned, he could barley walk, yet he needed to be doing stuff.
"cariño, look at that little face, i need to pick him up" he pouted like a little kid, you chuckeld softly, shaking your head and picking the puppy who started to happily lick your face.
"happy now?" you asked, he rolled his eyes, hugging you with ollie barking energetically between you two.
"i just wanna do something" he mumbled on your forehead.
"then let's do something mi amor" you whispered, putting ollie back in the ground, who chaoticly started jumping arround.
you cupped his face, caressing his cheecks softly, he sighed, placing his big hands on your hips.
"but what can we do?" he muttered, he looked like a lost puppy.
"do you wanna watch a film? or mabye we can start a new series" you asked.
he seamed to dubt a bit, but them noded, mumbling a low 'kay' before kissing your forhead.
"let's get a bit comfy, kay?" you whispered softly, caressing his hair and gently guiding him towards the bedroom.
"help me, amor please" he asked you, lifting his hands as you helped him taking of the shirt and plants, chuckeling as you caressed carefully the small scar on his stomach, he changed to his pajamas, same as you did when he assured you he didn't need more help.
between kisses, you both walked back to the sofa, carlos hugging your back while you guided him in an awkward funny way.
you both sitted there, cuddling, his face in your chest now as you played with his hair carefully, he on the other side, choosing a film to watch, softly caressing your thigh.
"y/n" carlos whispered sweetly, you hummed in response. "i love you" he whispered melting your heart.
"i love you too" you whispered back.
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just two weeks later you where kissing his him as he got off his car, he had just won the australian gp, just two weeks after his surgery.
"did i do great?" he asked as you caressed his cheecks, joining your forheads.
"you're fucking unbelievable" you chuckeld softly kissing him again. "i love you, carlos"
"i love you too" he laughed.
y/n has posted
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liked by carlossainz55, taylorswift, landonorris and others
so proud of you mi carlitos ❤️‍🩹🎉
tagged carlossainz55
carlossainz55: i love you mi amor ❤️
y/n: love you too 💘
landonorris: why there isn't a pic of me too??? i though i was your son 😔
y/n: you'll be in my next photo dump 💋
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justjams2003 · 3 days
Note
Hiii! Super loved your recent work (fast pace) 🩷 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 🫶🏻
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 Raúl, 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...🙈” 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 Raúl 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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ethrlst · 21 hours
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‘get off of me! desperate? god, you’re delusional, carlos.’ you laugh at his face, spitting out ‘you still mad about cha’s p1 today?’, he slams you against the wall. slowly, his face lower to yours and you feel his eyes’ intense stare. chest heaving faster, you physically feel him bury his face to your neck just before whispering, ‘you are as breathtaking as charles described you to be, pero mi dios, you get on my nerves.’ you’re quick return his stare with a glare. ‘you’re as infuriating as me, sainz. you’re no different. if anything, desperation suits your name better than it does mine.’ lifting your hand to his bearded jaw and gently caressing his cheek, you give the spaniard a faux sympathetic smile.
────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────
⌞ a/n ⌝ - hello! here’s a snippet of the carlos fic i’m currently editing as of the moment. it would most likely be uploaded tonight around 5 or 6 p.m E.S.T !! let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions who i should write for next! ୨ৎ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
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lorarri · 11 months
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❨ main f1 masterlist | football masterlist ❩
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𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐙
𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐄 → carlos sainz x fem! marquez! reader
the youngest marquez sibling posts a series of spicy pics from her boyfriends birthday and sends her brothers into a mental breakdown. twice.
𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐅 → carlos sainz x fem! singer! bestfriend! reader
cheating rumors and a new song oh my leave the intent in a tailspin as they try to figure out what's going on
𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐓 → carlos sainz x fem! ferrari! engineer! reader
isa and carlos are over and the f1 community is in flames and makes it very difficult for carlos's new gf who can't avoid the hate even if she tried
𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐀 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐃 → carlos sainz x fem! barca! football player! reader
the rivalry of barca and real is a tale as old as time so what happens when star crossed lovers fight the odds - and wins
𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐓 → carlos sainz x fem! rapper! reader
carlos goes on a podcast just to reveal his crush on a very unexpected person - looks like dreams do come true
𝐑.𝐈.𝐏 → carlos sainz x fem! redbull! race engineer! reader
something must be different in singapore as the death of an icon and a surprising pole leave people in shock
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thef1diary · 4 days
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Podium Princess | LN + CS + CL
Summary: Lando lost a bet, which would have just temporarily damaged his ego, but the problem was that you were the prize that Charles and Carlos desired for one night.
masterlist taglist form
© thef1diary 2024. do not repost without permission
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Warnings: 18+, mmmf, unprotected sex, three men for three holes 🤭, fingering, oral, anal, dp?, filthy as fuck, derogatory terms (kinda), praise, overstimulation, riding.
pairing: lando x fem!reader x carlos x charles
wc: 3.1k
Request: You should totally write a smut about lando sharing his girlfriend with Carlos and Charles after placing in the #australiangp
"You did what?" You asked your boyfriend, wondering if you misheard his words. "I made a bet," Lando responded, but this time with more assurance.
You sat down on the bed in your shared hotel room and asked, "what is it?" Patting the spot next to you, silently indicating Lando to sit down and begin explaining the bet. You've known from the years you've been dating that whenever he places a wager, he eventually loses, but you chose against mentioning it.
He hesitated for a moment but then decided to explain how he ended up in that situation.
The evening began when Lando noticed Carlos and Charles speaking after the qualifying session. He observed they had been spending a lot of time together recently, so Lando obviously had to approach them and disrupt their latest gossip session.
Putting the trio together, one would discover that they never run out of topics to discuss, which is how they found themselves sitting in a car in the parking lot outside their hotel. Carlos suggested that since they were all staying at the same hotel for the weekend, they might as well leave the track together.
However, during the car ride, there was a discussion that quickly brought out the competitive nature that each driver had developed at a young age. "What, you guys don't think I'll win?" Lando asked the Ferrari drivers, slightly offended. This particular topic of conversation started once they discussed the possible winners for the race tomorrow.
Based on the three practice sessions and qualifying, it could be argued that while they all had a fairly nice weekend so far, some were still more fortunate than others. As a result, the Spaniard shook his head, disagreeing with his friend, "mate, I'm starting second tomorrow, which clearly means I have a better chance of winning."
"I was first in fp1," Lando retaliated although they all knew that qualifying in a higher position meant more than topping a single practice session.
"You might have a good chance, but Max is on pole, let's not forget that," Charles reminded his fellow colleagues. Lando perked up at his words, "exactly, so all Carlos needs to do is somehow crash him out of the race so I can win."
Charles laughed at the outrageous plan, but Carlos scoffed, "I won't ruin my chances at a podium for a race you won't win." Noticing Lando's defeated expression, it caused Charles to laugh harder. "Not that I think either of you would win, but let's make a bet," the Monégasque suggested.
"Who do you think will win?" Carlos asked. Charles' dimple deepened as he smiled, "me of course."
This time Lando scoffed, "yeah, sure mate," then he looked at Carlos, "what do I get when I win the bet?"
"This," Carlos stated while holding up his middle finger towards him. Rolling his eyes, he decided, "fine, I'll ask for something when I win, and then you two won't be able to deny it."
"And what do we get if you don't win?" Carlos asked, looking at Charles who was waiting for an answer from Lando.
While Lando was focused on what he would ask for if he won the bet, he failed to consider that Carlos or Charles were more likely to win than him. He would have a one-in-three chance of winning the wager, but Lando hadn't realized the extent of the situation just yet.
"Not that it'll happen but what do you guys want?" He asked only as a formality to actually set the bet.
Carlos was quiet for a moment as he thought of something that would be worthwhile, looking at Charles to see if he had any ideas. Then he thought of it—of you. "Your girlfriend," he simply stated.
It took two seconds for Lando to start laughing, not that it was ever a challenge to do so, but he initially assumed that Carlos was joking. His laughter quickly died down once he didn't hear either driver laugh along with him.
Looking in the backseat at Charles briefly, who nodded in agreement, Lando snapped his head towards Carlos, "what do you mean my girlfriend?"
"It's simple. If Charles or I win, then you have to share your girlfriend for a night, if not, then you don't," he explained nonchalantly.
Lando looked at Charles, "and you agree with him?" He shrugged, then nodded, "she's hot, I wouldn't say no."
He slumped back in his seat, "I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win." While Lando was secure in his abilities, both drivers around him thought he was growing overconfident. "So you agree, that if you don't win, we can have her?"
Nodding it off and waving his hand around, Lando agreed, "yeah, you can."
You were stunned into silence once he finished explaining. Noticing your lack of words, Lando was unsure of your thoughts. "You don't think I'll win?"
You shrugged, "all I'm gonna say is that you have twenty-one other chances to win this season if you don't win this race." You didn't exactly answer his question, but he realized that you weren't opposed or disgusted by the idea either. Pulling you into his lap, he tilted your chin upwards with his fingers and leaned closer for a kiss.
He tightened his grasp on your chin to stop you before you could press your lips against his. "Oh I see, you don't want me to win just so you can be passed around like a slut between my friends?"
"You wouldn't have put me as the prize if you didn't like the idea," you retaliated, smirking as you moved his hand away to finally place your lips on his.
You stood among the crowd, cheering for Lando, who took his place on the third step of the podium. As the podium celebrations began, a part of you was also looking forward to the celebrations that would follow later tonight. Lando may have lost a bet, but it was the first bet you were glad he lost.
That is how you ended up in your hotel room with your lover, waiting in anticipation for the other two drivers to arrive. With his trophy set aside, you and Lando were occupied with each other; your eyes closed and head tilted back as he trailed kisses down your throat.
Then came a knock on the door, one that made your heart race in all the best ways. Lando stood up and opened the door, revealing Charles and Carlos standing on the other side, still dressed in their Ferrari polos from earlier that evening.
"What did he say? I suppose you'll be disappointed when I win," Charles greeted by mocking Lando's words from the day before. "Alright, alright I get it but I still placed third," he retaliated which earned a nod from Carlos. "Congrats, cabrón."
You could hear them laughing among themselves, but it quickly died down once Carlos and Charles spotted you. Lando had suggested that you should wear red, considering both of the drivers that placed first and second adored red.
There you sat on the mattress, leaning back on your forearms with an ankle crossed over the other, clad in only a tight short red dress which you were glad you ended up packing.
"Well, fuck me," Charles muttered under his breath earning a chuckle from you once you heard his comment. Standing up and slowly stepping towards them, you replied, "fuck me indeed."
Your gaze was fixated on Carlos, the race winner, whose eyes revealed a glimpse of all the dirty thoughts racing through his mind. "Congratulations, you both deserve a good celebration," you said, smiling as you felt Carlos' arm snaking around your waist and Charles' breath fanning your face.
"Is that what you're going to give us? A good celebration?" Charles asked, his lips grazing your cheek. "I'll give you anything you want."
You looked at your boyfriend for a second, making sure he was still comfortable with the situation before proceeding any further. But you just saw desire in his eyes and while the corner of his lip curled up in a lazy smirk, a nod from him allowed you to carry on. He may have nodded at you, but his eyes darted over your head to his fellow drivers, "Go on then, Carlos, Charles, claim your prize."
Your lips parted slightly, marvelling at the fact that Lando hadn't even addressed you, instead treating you like an object to be claimed. The worst part was realizing that you liked it since his remarks had made you clench your thighs together.
Carlos grinned at your obedient behaviour as he was easily able to tip your head back to face him. Now that they truly had the freedom to do anything they wanted to you, with your permission, neither felt bad for having sinful thoughts about you—their best friend's girlfriend—while Carlos and Charles were alone in their bedrooms.
Kissing you with a sense of urgency, Carlos stole your breath away in a matter of seconds. Your thoughts had quickly dissipated into thin air as you felt Charles trailing his fingers up your body while pressing up behind you.
You heard Lando shuffle around before leaving the three of you alone in the bedroom for a moment which only intensified your feelings. Sandwiched between the two men who are good friends of yours, were now looking at you as if you are merely an outlet for their sexual desires.
Sliding down the straps that held your dress up, Charles continued kissing every inch of your bare skin revealed to him. His hands rounded to your front, pulling down the flimsy piece of fabric to display your tits to the duo. Your nipples instantly pebbled as Charles' fingers brushed against them, making you tilt your head back and resting it against his shoulder.
Letting you regain your breath, Carlos moved down to your neck, replacing each kiss Lando had placed earlier with small nips and grazes of his teeth, just painful enough to still be pleasurable.
While both their mouths were occupied, the Spaniard's hands pushed down the rest of your dress to the floor, parting away for a moment to let you to step out of it and toss it to the side with your feet.
Lando returned to the room, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth to prevent a moan from leaving his mouth. You were now completely bare, with two fully clothed drivers—his friends—pressed against you while their hands roamed all over your body.
Discarding his shirt on the floor, he occupied your mouth with another kiss, muffling your moans. "Fuck, enjoying yourself, baby?" Lando muttered once you parted away for a moment. Nodding, you opened your mouth to respond but a sharp gasp left your mouth as you felt Charles' fingers teasing your clit while Carlos palmed your ass.
"Merde, she's so perfect," the Monégasque commented, spreading your pussy with two fingers while a third finger swiped through your folds to catch the wetness that gathered between. "Charles," you breathlessly whispered, a plead for more.
"So ready to be ruined," Carlos added, his own fingers prodding your ass, earning a string of curses along with pleas to keep going from you. Gathering your slick from your cunt, Carlos coated his fingers to ease just the tip of one finger into your ass.
Soon enough, you were laid down on the bed, and one by one the three men stripped their clothes away, adding to the ever growing pile that started from your dress. You could barely keep your eyes open due to the feeling of three pairs of hands roaming everywhere, not leaving any inch of your skin untouched.
You had already orgasmed twice, but you couldn't remember whose fingers brought you over the edge the first, or even the second time, as all of the sensations mushed together in what felt like one never ending wet dream.
Staying true to your words of giving them anything they desired, you moaned around Carlos' cock as Charles slid his dick in your pussy without any forewarning. Your grasp on his thighs tightened as Charles began to thrust, slowly at first but then showed no mercy once his grasp on your hips tightened.
Carlos pulled your mouth off his cock, but quickly replaced the emptiness you immediately felt with two of his fingers resting heavily on your tongue. His actions didn't allow you to close your jaw, causing you to drool down your chin, and only then he was satisfied.
"Such a good fucking girl," he commented, which only made your head spin further while you smiled at the compliment. "Oh she likes that," Charles added as he felt your pussy clench around him at Carlos' praise.
His fingers that were now coated with your saliva trailed down your body to where you and Charles were connected. He nodded mockingly at his teammate's comment, "yeah, you like being praised?"
Easily finding your swollen clit, he slightly pinched it before creating small circles, edging you closer. You nodded, "please, please, please." You were sobbing for relief, your voice strained from the constant cries that left your lips with each new wave of ecstasy.
Connecting their gaze, Charles and Carlos smirked as they silently agreed to let you cum once again. Charles's fingers slid closer to your back hole, this time able to slide two fingers down to the last knuckle. At the same time, Carlos' fingers left your clit only to join the thrusts of Charles' cock, scissoring two of his fingers in your pussy to stretch you out even further. Pleasure surged through your body, and you closed your eyes tightly at the sudden sensation of being so full.
Charles slowed down his thrusts, prolonging your post orgasmic sensation. You slumped forwards when he pulled out, still holding back his own release for now.
Despite still being eager, they were ever patient with you especially after bringing you over the edge multiple times now, knowing your limbs were close to tiring out.
Still on your hands and knees, you shuffled up to straddle Carlos, sinking down on down cock this time, mouth dropping open as he stretched you out slightly differently compared to Charles.
"C'mon, cariño, ride me," he instructed, resting his hands on your hips, urging your movements while also allowing you to depend on him for help. "You feel so good, Carlos," you panted.
You heard some shuffling around you again but you couldn't move your gaze away from watching your pussy engulf Carlos' cock over and over again.
However, you were startled once you felt a cool sensation prodding your ass; Charles' fingers coated in lube. "Need you to relax, baby," you could hear Lando's words and he was quick to come into your view, stroking his dick to the sight of you filled by his former teammate.
He grabbed your hand off of Carlos' shoulder, guiding it towards his cock. Already slick with his precum, you could easily move your hand up and down, watching his reaction with hooded eyes.
Charles' free hand wrapped around your throat from behind while he whispered in your ear, "we're gonna fill up all of your holes, darling."
Groaning, you nodded, "please," a word that you had repeatedly spoken to the point where it sounded like a broken record. "You want that?" One of them asked, but you couldn't focus on whose voice it was. "Fill me up, please," your words turning into a moan as Carlos shifted underneath you, reaching deeper inside.
Releasing the grasp on your throat, Charles focused on opening you up with his fingers, for you to be able to take his cock in your ass while Carlos continued pounding your pussy.
Lando replaced Charles' hand, grabbing the back of your neck, threading his fingers in your hair to bring you close for a filthy kiss. Tongues and teeth clashing, he slightly bit down on your bottom lip, sucking and pulling on it for a moment before letting go.
Without any words exchanged, your boyfriend guided your mouth towards his cock, filling up two out of three of your holes. It took you a moment before you actually started moving your head up and down, moaning and drooling on his cock because of Carlos' upward thrusts.
Charles removed his fingers, having deemed to have stretched you out enough then coating his dick with a good amount of lube. With one hand palming and spreading your ass, he used the other to guide his cock into you. Your eyes welled up with tears, not entirely painful but almost overwhelmed with being filled everywhere at once.
Your body was quickly calmed down by Lando, Charles, and Carlos as they moved their hands all over you in soothing motions. Charles began thrusting when you nodded because you were unable to speak while Lando's dick was in your mouth.
Your muffled groans sounded distant to you, mind foggy, but you had never felt so full and aware before.
With a warning, Lando filled your mouth with cum, which you swallowed greedily without hesitation. Now, with your mouth unoccupied, you couldn't hold back on your moans. "Gonna cum," you warned, knowing you won't last long, still sensitive from your previous orgasms.
Charles' fingers reached your chest, teasing and pinching your nipples while Carlos rested his palms on your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumb.
Your pace stuttered as you came around his cock, and Carlos took the reins and thrusted upwards, allowing you to ride out your orgasm. "Fuck, where do you want us?" Charles asked, tethering on the edge and based on Carlos' stuttering pace, you knew he was too.
Your next words pushed both over the edge, "inside." Slumping forwards, you felt both Ferrari drivers filling you up with their cum. "Fucking hell, that was hot," Lando commented, leaning closer to brush away the strands of hair stuck on your forehead due to sweat.
Charles and Carlos carefully eased you off their cocks, with Lando helping you lie down on the bed which you immediately melted into.
It was unbearable for you to be completely empty after being entirely filled. Mustering up all your strength, you held your arms out for your boyfriend, who immediately joined you on the bed, whispering praises in your ear.
Meanwhile, Carlos and Charles decided to clean you up by wiping the cum that had leaked out of your holes with a damp towel. They saw the bruises from their grasps on you in the heat of the moment and couldn't help but smile, knowing they were the cause of it.
You hoped, as you drifted off to sleep, that the three of them would share the podium more frequently, and therefore, share you as well.
Taglist based on the form (let me know if you would like to be removed) @lochnoch @llando4norris @monsieurbacteria6 @namgification @lilymurphy03 @sargeantdumbass @evlkking @jointhehunt67 @wonnou @nikfigueiredo
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pierregazly · 6 months
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let's show the world ꨄ carlos sainz smau
carlos sainz x wife!reader
warnings: hateful/mean comments, cyberbullying
in which carlos has to make it clear to the world how much his wife means to him, and how strangers on the internet know nothing about them or their relationship.
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f1drivernews
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liked by username, username, username, and 11,209 others
tagged carlossainz55 and yourusername
f1drivernews it appears ferrari driver carlossainz55 and wife yourusername spent the summer break in style, rumours have it that the resort they stayed in ibiza was almost €7500 per person a night. sainz and his wife have been notorious for staying in extravagant hotels and resorts during both summer and winter breaks. the lifestyles of the rich and famous continues!
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username oh the things i would do to be a millionaire
username just be like yourusername and bag yourself a rich husband, constant flow of money lol
username that's a polite way of saying just be a gold-digger and you'll be set babes
username lol the fact b4 he met her carlos used to spend breaks with his fam and friends??? has no one told him how much of a red flag this is???
username girl since when is a driver spending their break with their WIFE a red flag???
username €7500 PER PERSON???? aint no way that was carlos' idea lol what a joke
username i'd be so embarrassed to be yourusername like what does girlypop even do??? other than mooch off her husband ofc
username she's actually very successful in her own line of work? not sure what you're alluding to but yeah
username she could be the top 10% of whatever she does and still not be as successful as carlos, hop off hunni
username guess f1drivernews was too nice to post the hideous closeups of yourusername... girly's not looking too great nowadays poor carlos
carlossainz55 has posted a story
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liked by yourusername, landonorris, username, and others
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landonorris your mrs told me she got a hole in one, how's it feel to suck carlos
yourusername 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
username bet you paid out of your ass for her for this round of golf too smh
username embarrizzing sorrrrryyy carlos
yourusername has posted a story
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liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and others
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carlossainz55 thank you for dinner amor, you spoil me as always
username girl delete this rn this is so embarrassing
username loool ur not fooling anyone sweetie
username red nails for a golddigger? typical babes
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yourusername
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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, scuderiaferrari, and 2,343 others
tagged carlossainz55
yourusername i'm amazed by you every single day, even more when you come back to our room stinking of champagne 💗
view all 187 comments
landonorris no special post for me?? you told me i was ur son the other day and this is the treatment i get ? emancipation right now
landonorris before you say it, i know that's a big word for elmo. thanks.
alexandrasaintmleux im still obsessed with that jacket 🫶🏻
username you looked so pretty this weekend! carlos is so lucky
carlossainz55 always more special when we're both coming back smelling like champagne hermosa
username i think its like so childish u deleted 75% of ur followers like u wanna be in the public eye but dont want what comes with it??? weird but alright
username im so over you honestly carlos deserves better
username ur acc the worst wag like yikes
f1gossip
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liked by username, username, username and 75,903 others
tagged carlossainz55
f1gossip the streets are saying carlos was in suzuka alone this week, his wife of two years yourusername reportedly took a flight home instead of following her husband along to suzuka after the singapore win... trouble in paradise? 👀👀
view all 4,870 comments
username omg it's happening
username FINALLY GOOD RIDDANCE
username my man is back on the market!!!!! time for someone prettier, hotter, better, basically anyone opposite of his wife lol byeeeee
username ur all insane, she has her own job??? she can't follow her husband to every end of the earth
username waiting for the ig stories 'we've decided to split amicably, please allow us privacy'
username LOOOL i bet it's gonna say that word for word!!!! not like we'll see hers tho cause she locked us all out
username this acc made my day ahhhhhhhh
yourusername has posted a story
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carlossainz55 amor what's wrong??
yourusername i just dont understand why people have to be so mean.
landonorris carlando to the rescue dont worry y/n
carlossainz55
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liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 1,399,402 others
tagged yourusername
carlossainz55 this last week has been extra special for me, to know it is the anniversary of the first time i met my best friend, and that she was able to be with me when i lifted the trophy in singapore is a wonderful feeling.
but to see all the ignorant, unkind, and hurtful comments that are regularly directed at my wife has put a negative twirl on this time. my wife, to me, is the most beautiful woman in the world. she is kind, and loving, and has given up the world for me time and time again. no one knows our relationship more than her and i. many of you speak things that are so ignorant and false it is disgusting. if you are one of these people, please know, you are not a fan i find myself caring for.
i beg those who continue to speak poorly of my wife, to think about how your actions can harm others. thank you. and to yourusername, you are the most important light in my life. i cant wait to see you amor.
comments on this post have been limited
landonorris 🧡🧡
charles_leclerc be kind always!
yourusername te amo, always and forever.
carlossainz55 has posted a story
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yourusername i didnt even see you take that photo... ur so cute ily
landonorris tell her i got 50 of the flowers for her
username omg i love that book!!!! y/n has great taste what a queen
username i would die to be ur wife, but i would also die to be y/n's wife so lol
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ahhhh this is the smau part 2 i promised to my last carlos written story! thank you to the lovely person who requested it, i hope it's what you wanted! please let me know what you think, i hope you all loved it 💗
taglist
@leclercdream @myescapefromthislife @princessria127 @iloveyou3000morgan @love4lando @asfaraslifegets @decseptapril @somanyfandomsbruh @fangirl125reader @imagandom @motorsp0rt @jspitwall @sarahedwards16 @glitterf1 @christianpulisic10 @carlandonorri-s @smoothopz @eugene-emt-roe @epitios @ihrtdan @myloverjk-blog @glow-ish @goldenmclaren @mercunty
if your name is bolded/striked tumblr wont allow me to tag you! ive tried multiple things, but it's unfortunately giving me a very hard time with a few people. im so sorry! please let me know if you'd like to be added to the list!!
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hemmingsleclerc · 24 days
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My Husband ┃CS55
summary: Y/N attends her husband's home race but didn't expect to find the "popular" girl at her high school back in the day.
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The sun was seen over the Barcelona-Catalunya Circuit while the Spanish Grand Prix was taking place. Y/N, dressed in an elegant yet casual dress that perfectly combined glamor and comfort, strolled through the paddock with an air of confidence. Her husband, Carlos, was focused on preparations for the next race, leaving her free to immerse herself in the exciting atmosphere.
As she toured the different garages and hospitality areas, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of nostalgia. The roar of the engines brought back memories of her teenager's years when she would never have imagined being there in the paddock. Yet here she was, the wife of one of the sport's most talented drivers.
The familiar murmur of voices interrupted her thoughts and she turned to see a group of people approaching her. Among them was a face from her past: a girl named Carla, who was once the queen bee of her high school. Carla's eyes widened in false surprise when she saw Y/N there.
"Well, well, if it's not little Y/N," Carla sneered, her tone full of mockery. "What brings you to the Spanish Grand Prix? Trying to catch a glimpse of the rich and famous?"
Y/N smiled, refusing to let Carla's comments get to her. "Oh, you know, I've always been an F1 fan. I thought I'd come and support my husband."
''Husband?, so after all you did get a boyfriend?, what a wonderful surprise!''
''Yes, yes I did Carla'' Y/N responded, avoiding the urge to roll her eyes.
Carla smiled and looked at her boyfriend, who was next to her. "Well, we're here because my boyfriend is a big fan. You probably know him, he was with us at school! In fact, today he met all the drivers. It's a dream come true for him."
Y/N raised an eyebrow, recognizing the familiar pattern of Carla trying to outdo her in any situation. "That's fantastic for him. I'm sure meeting the drivers was an unforgettable experience."
''So, is this your first race?''
''In fact no, I have attended several grand prix, although it's probably your first time, so enjoy it Carla!'' And just as she finished saying those words she turned around and walked away from that irritating situation.
The race came to life and Y/N continued to enjoy the event, doing her best to ignore the presence of her ''wonderful'' former high school classmates.
As the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, Y/N once again found herself in the path of Carla and her boyfriend.
"Well, well, look who it is," Carla said with a forced smile. "Did you have fun watching the race, sweetie?"
Y/N sighed inwardly but maintained her composure. "Yes, it was thrilling. Excuse me, I need to find Carlos."
As she tried to walk away, Carla's boyfriend, Y/N's old crush from high school, stepped forward, trying to strike up a conversation with her. Y/N felt a wave of discomfort but remained polite. All she wanted to do was go to her husband and congratulate him on his incredible podium finish in the race.
Suddenly, the crowd around them buzzed with excitement as Carlos Sainz approached, his red racing suit adorned with sponsor logos. Carla and her boyfriend exchanged surprised glances.
"Carlos Sainz!" Carla exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
Y/N couldn't help but smile triumphantly. "Oh, I didn't mention it before? He's Carlos, my husband, sweetie."
Carlos, oblivious to the tension, politely greeted Carla and her boyfriend. When they noticed, Carla's forced smile faltered and Y/N took the opportunity to gracefully exit the conversation. She walked away from her, leaving behind a speechless Carla and a bewildered old lover.
''Thank God you showed up, I couldn't stand them for another minute''
''You okey mi amor?''
''I'll be better after the celebration for your great podium, cariño''
With their heads held high, Y/N and Carlos walked out holding hands, along with the shiny trophy, ready to have a great night.
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somejazzinthemorning · 7 months
Text
playing cupid.
Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: Mentions of sex and some curse words. There are some inaccuracies, such as in this short story, Carlos has an apartment in Milan] Word Count: 9.7K
You're in this situationship with Carlos Sainz—no fuss, no drama, just sex. But then your dads become friends, and Sainz Sr., with a soft spot for you, decides to introduce you to his son, whom you've been... acquainted with for a while. To make things more interesting, he's on a mission to play Cupid, all while Carlos enjoys the thrill of keeping your little secret, playing along with his dad.
this was a request! always feel free to request and if i have some free time, I'll try to write something 🫶🏼
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“Apparently, our dads met”, you say, rolling off Carlos's lap, still flushed and your breath ragged. The soft bed cushions your fall as you curl up beneath the deep blue blanket that usually adorns the foot of Carlos's bed, but this time is just part of the mess.
Carlos studies you with a faint frown, tousled hair spilling over his forehead. He looks incredibly handsome, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. If it weren’t for the late hour and your impending early morning, you would consider straddling him again. However, it’s nearly 2 a.m. and you need to be at the atelier by 9, so you just wish to sleep.
“Really?” There’s an undertone you don’t quite understand.
“What?”
"You just killed the mood.” He lays back on the bed and turns to face you. His hands seek out your shoulder, and his nimble fingers begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin, a clear indication that he’s not ready to let the night end just yet. “Mentioning my dad right after I cum inside you? Not exactly what I expect.”
“I just remembered it, and now I know you’ll get your hands off of me and let me sleep.”
“Oh, that’s not what I was expecting, as well.”
You pout, mocking him. “Poor you,” he rolls his eyes and falls dramatically against his pillow. “I’m just expecting a good night of sleep because some of us have work to do during the week and not just on weekends.” He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know that sometimes you work during the week.”
Carlos opens his mouth to retort, but he doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. In an instant, he sits up, looming over you, and seizes both your wrists, pinning them against the headboard. With his other hand, he's ready to tug the blanket over your form.
"Don't you dare tickle me, Carlos Sainz. Or I swear to God—"
"What are you going to do?" Carlos interrupts, his mischievous grin returning. As you lock eyes with him, you realize there's very little you can do, and oddly enough, you're entirely fine with that. Except,
"Spit in your face."
His playful smirk remains as he leans in closer, his voice a sultry whisper. "Spit in my face, huh?” he taunts, his fingers inching closer to your sides. “Think I’m going to risk it.”
"Sainz,” you squirm under his touch, desperately trying to maintain your composure. But he’s already grinning, and his fingers are approaching your sides. “I'm warning you..."
And suddenly, it's too late. He pounces, his fingers dancing across your sides, and you burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter, some of them louder than you expected them to be. Carlos knows all your ticklish spots, and he exploits them shamelessly. It’s been what…? Four months since you first slept together. By now he knows your body better than any guy ever did. And honestly, you’re not sure what to feel about that.
"Carlos, stop!" you manage to gasp between laughter, trying to wriggle free from his grip. It's a futile effort as he continues his relentless assault, determined to elicit every giggle and squeal he can from you.
Finally, he relents, his laughter joining yours as he releases your wrists. You pant for breath, your cheeks flushed from both the laughter and the earlier efforts. You take the opportunity to jump out of bed. “You’re the worst. I gotta pee.”
You disappear into the bathroom, to pee, clean yourself and try to comb your hair, and by the time you go back to the bedroom, you’re expecting him to be asleep. But you find him awake. His eyes shine brighter when you go through the door, and he watches you with a tender smile as you enter the bed and curl against him, fitting perfectly into his embrace.
The warmth of his body against you is comforting.
"I think I'll let you sleep now," he voices low in your ear, as he pulls over the comforter and covers you both.
"You better.”
Carlos's chest rises and falls rhythmically beneath your cheek as you nestle closer. You can hear the faint hum of his heartbeat, and it lulls you into a peaceful state. He smells like Bleu de Chanel and the lingering traces of your passion. With every breath, you inhale the essence of the man who has woven himself into the fabric of your life, in more ways than one.
Just as you're about to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, it hits you like lightning—the visit your mom mentioned, the whole reason you brought up his dad’s name.
You nudge Carlos gently, rousing him from his half-asleep state. "Just remembered something."
Carlos doesn’t even open his eyes. "Hmm?”
“My dad invited yours over,” you were not sure if you should be excited or nervous. Not for the visit itself, but for Carlos’ reaction to the idea of you meeting his dad.
After all, you had just been sleeping together, barely leaving your apartments, except for that one time he took you out to dinner, and that was probably because it was your birthday and perhaps Carlos would feel bad about just booty-calling you and ignoring the whole birthday thing.
“Well, that’s a nice way to introduce you to him.”
“What?”
Carlos just pressed you closer to him, like you weren’t practically glued together already. "It's okay, cariño. They’ll love you. Now sleep."
It all started at Milan Fashion Week when Carlos was representing Ferrari at an event. You were there, lurking in the shadows, taking in the magic of the fashion show. Your mentor had gotten you there, a favour you'll always be grateful for. There's a lot you can't remember about the event, about the whole night to be fair, but you remember the man awkwardly sitting in the front row. Fashion is not his thing, you thought. You kind of knew that. You kind of knew him.
He drives for Ferrari, he's handsome, he has a thick Spanish accent and hair I would pay to touch.
And that was more than enough to make you introduce yourself at the end of the show. From there, making out in a club took a little more than two hours. To his bed, just a little bit more than that.
You continued to see each other, booty-calling each other when you were feeling horny, bored, or just lonely. Your situationship was a good deal for both parties. No strings attached, which you enjoyed because you had little time and no patience to make any kind of effort to actually maintain a relationship. And Carlos, well... he was also busy as hell, so... all good. So you never went on dates, never needed to put on expectable amounts of makeup for over-the-top dresses. Except for your birthday, when he decided to take you out, and you had to make the effort. But that was your birthday.
Other than that, you would only leave your apartments to go get food at a 24-hour store or McDonald's. You remember that one time you wanted gelato and Carlos took you to his favourite place in Milan, but... other than that, it was just sex. Okay, just sex and marathons of Game of Thrones and House of The Dragon (that led to more sex) and some cooking too. You once taught him how to make your nana's lasagna and how a true Italian bruschetta is done. And a few days later, he cooked you his mom's carbonara—not a real carbonara, not at all. And, let’s be fair, he often brought you pizza from your favourite place in Milano and expensive bottles of wine.
But… “That’s a nice way to introduce you to him”?
You were not expecting that at all.
The idea lingered in your mind all night, and you woke up thinking about it too. You left his apartment while Carlos was still in the shower, just shouting goodbyes while you gathered your stuff and ran to the atelier. He would be out of town for a couple of weeks, away at some races, and you would have time to figure out how your parents met and when said visit was going to happen. All good.
Turns out you didn't have as much time as you thought.
That afternoon, your mom calls you, excitedly recounting their amazing trip to Canada and how much fun your dad had at the race. So, that was where they met. She also shares her plans about taking your brothers to Monza in a couple of months. You nod absentmindedly, your attention more focused on the magazine in front of you than on her words. It's often like this.
Your dad travels for work and actually works. He's a sports manager, deeply passionate about football and motorsports, especially Formula 1. Lately, he's been leaning more towards the latter, especially since he's contemplating retirement. On the other hand, your mom, an ex-model who married a well-off man, has chosen to focus on being a wife and a mother, a role she fulfils with dedication. So, when they’re back home, dad has work to do, contacts to keep and your mom has… well, more than enough time to tell you everything.
"And your dad and Sainz met at the golf course, you know?" your mom continues, her voice full of admiration. "A charming young man. He was golfing with his dad too. Your father had to tell them you refused to join him on the greens."
"In that, he's absolutely right."
"So, they kept talking. They even played together, I think. And he mentioned we were going to the race, and Sainz suggested he could call, and he'd arrange a garage tour. We met him at the paddock, but we ended up not getting the tour because there were already enough guests in there, but… Isn't he just amazing? And so incredibly handsome, piccina. So handsome."
You cringe inwardly at your mom's thirst for Carlos, unable to shake the image of her ogling your... friend. But you hum in response, unable to voice your discomfort because the next moment, she's raving about a dress she bought for you and the amazing designer she met in New York just before returning to Milan, and that topic steals all attention.
But just before she’s about to hang out, you remember why she called you in the first place.
“Mom, about the visit you mentioned? The dinner?” you interject and she chuckles; you can almost envision her rubbing her temples.
"Oh, silly me. I actually called you to discuss that," she sighs. "He's coming to visit us this weekend! You have to come home and meet him; he's really looking forward to getting to know you."
"Doesn't he race this weekend?"
"The young—Since when do you care about F1?"
"I don't. I just—” You quickly think of something, but you’re not quite sure if you want to tell your mother that you’ve been fucking Sainz. The younger one. Of course. “I saw something on Twitter."
"Oh, I see. Well,” she clicks her tongue. “It's his dad who's coming. Weren’t you listening? And his mom. We invited them both. Your dad wants to take him to the club and network a bit and you know… I’m always down for making friends and Reyes seems like a lovely woman. She wasn’t there, but I’ve heard about her around. Even her name is super elegant. Isn’t it?” Once again, you hum, frowning, thinking about the movie where you just found yourself in. “So, please, come home.”
“Noted. So, this weekend?”
“Yes. Do you need Dad to pick you up tomorrow after work?”
You move in your seat. “I’m just so busy with work right now, mom. The new collection and—” She cleans her throat and you just nod to the empty room. “Okay. Yes, please, tell Dad to pick me up.”
Of course, the second you hang up you text Carlos. He’s probably busy, it’s Thursday so he’s doing interviews or something, and, as you expected, he doesn’t reply to your text right away. Despite everything, he doesn’t take too long.
Not surprisingly, he’s very nonchalant about it all.
hot wheels guy: just tell them we know each other, no big deal hot wheels guy: and we’ll tell them more when i’m back
But, yeah… You can’t help but frown looking at the phone. He’s golfed with your dad, met your mom, met again with your dad and he’s not even feeling weird about it all?
you: hm? no? hot wheels guy: why not? you: you went golfing with my dad!!! hot wheels guy: and? hot wheels guy: how would i guess he was your dad? you: how many Y/LN do you think there are in milan? you: he told you he’s from milan!! there are not a lot of us in here hot wheels guy: do you have any idea of how many people i meet every weekend? you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: stop being a brat you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: i don’t see a problem in golfing with your dad hot wheels guy: is that supposed to be weird? you: YES !!!! hot wheels guy: stop being dramatic hot wheels guy: if they say anything, tell them you know me hot wheels guy: if they don’t, don’t you: they will hot wheels guy: so you know what to do
Friday’s dinner went exceptionally well, with conversations flowing effortlessly between food and wine, despite the inevitable sports-centric discussions that seemed to dominate the evening. Your brothers were beyond ecstatic to have Carlos Sr. as a guest in their home. They'd had their fair share of famous athletes sitting at the family table, but never had they been as excited as they were when Carlos Sr. entered the house. As a result, you found yourself somewhat on the sidelines, listening more than speaking throughout the meal.
And you were grateful for that.
The same didn’t happen on Saturday. Your dad took the morning to showcase some of your work and discuss your future prospects in the fashion industry with both Carlos and Reyes. In what you think was a gesture of gratefulness, Reyes displayed a lot of interest in your little atelier, located by the pool, in what used to be a shed for the gardener. So, you spent the morning around there, talking with them about fashion and business, and then joined them for lunch in one of your dad’s favourite restaurants.
Let's be fair, you have an extraordinary way with words and a charm that makes your mother proud. It was easy for you. By the time dinner came, you were already adored by the Sainzes. Without making an effort, you found yourself talking about art and travel, and letting Sainz Sr. explain to you the magic and the challenges of Dakar.
However, it isn’t until the next morning that you find yourself alone with him.
You both sat down for breakfast on the patio, and he’s now engrossed in reading the newspaper, while you’re drinking your cappuccino and doing your best to ignore the fact that the man sitting in front of you is, in essence, your… fuckbuddy’s dad.
There’s the usual “good morning” and the “hope you got some rest”, to which the guest always has some lovely comment to say about the bed, or the room, or the house in general. It’s an amazing guest house, you have to admit. And Sainz is no expectation. You exchange a couple of pleasantries and he’s back at reading the news, so you let your guard down.
Then, unexpectedly, Carlos Sr. turns his attention from the newspaper and directs it squarely at you. Grey eyebrows lifting at the same pace his eyes fill with a weird glint.
“I would love to introduce you to my son,” he says, and a faint frown tugs at your lips as words form in your throat, only to wither away unspoken. "I'm not implying anything," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, "just that I believe the two of you would get along well."
You respond hesitantly, "Oh, I know him."
"I know you know him," he laughs, and you realise that something might have gotten lost in translation because when he talks again he says, "But what I mean is that you should meet. I'll make sure to introduce you two next time we're all in town."
And well, you feel too embarrassed to correct him, so you just smile and mumble an “I can’t wait. Excuse me”, before getting up from the table and sprinting up to your room.
you: great news. your dad wants to introduce us you: what do i do?
He takes a couple of hours to text back.
hot wheels guy: why didn’t you tell him you know me already? you: i tried to!
The next time you’re all in town happens one week and a half from there, when Carlos is finally back in Italy after a few races and a couple of days in Madrid. And, because the universe is a pain in the ass, you’re swarmed with work to the point you’ve been falling asleep right after dinner, even before the time Carlos usually rings you up.
It’s a terrible schedule.
You’ve been waking up at 5 am to be by the seamstress at 7, to have some work ready to show at 9 am, between your mentor’s arrival at the atelier and the time he leaves for some meeting or brunch with models somewhere in Milan. Somehow, during that interval, he has time to break your work to pieces, destroying it (and destroying you in the process) with criticism. Critique leaves you on the verge of tears, and by the end of the day, you’re a mess—stressed, irritable and utterly exhausted. Not to mention the ever-present sexual frustration, with vivid dreams of a certain Spaniard leaving you hot and bothered in your sleep.
The perfect recipe for a restless night.
Apparently, Carlos got to Milan on Wednesday, because that night you woke up at midnight on your couch, a half-empty glass of wine by your side, your unfinished sketches scattered before you and three missed calls from Carlos, accompanied by a series of texts. Thursday, the same happened. The texts were nothing too dramatic, just variations of “u up?”, “cmon its 10 pm”, and “you can’t be asleep”.
On both days, in your half-sleep haze, you manage to reply as you shuffle your way to your bedroom something similar to “sory, talktomorrw”.
And then Friday arrives, and your calendar pings with the reminder that in one hour your dad will be picking you up for dinner. You’re sitting on your vanity and already dreading the day your dad decided to go to Montreal.
You’re not feeling it.
Firstly, you have to slather on a ton of make-up just to feel decent. Your dark circles are as pronounced as ever, you’re skin is pale and your acne is acting up, probably all due to the lack of sun, sleep, rest of any food that isn’t reheated pizza or store-bought noodles.
So, yes, the prospect of dinner and being introduced as Carlos’ whatever doesn’t exactly lift your spirits.
The anticipation gawns at you as you finish getting ready. You can’t shake the feeling of unease, a nagging doubt that you’re about to step into a situation that might be more than you signed up for. Carlos’ dad seems nice enough, and his mom absolutely adores you, but this is different, especially because his dad is expecting to introduce you and well… you’re way past that.
As you stare at your reflection, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that this isn't just about you. Your brothers are looking forward to meeting Carlos, and your dad seems genuinely excited about his friendship with his dad. So, you summon a smile, albeit a forced one, and decide to make the most of this evening, even if you're not entirely sure what to expect.
Yeah. Scratch that. The dinner is about you.
As you approach the restaurant, a different sense of anticipation washes over you. It feels like a scene from a movie where you're about to meet an arranged husband. The Sainz family stands by the door, engaged in lively conversation. Reyes waves at you when she sees you making your way to them.
Your eyes naturally gravitate toward Carlos. Firstly, because you kind of miss him. It’s been a while since you last saw him and there’s no point in looking for comfort somewhere else, so you are, let's say… slightly needy. And secondly, because he’s clad in a baby blue button-up and pristine white pants. A vision. You're only human, after all, with eyes and perhaps a few too many hormones.
In summary: You’re fucked. Dinner will be fun.
From your back and close to your ear, a whisper arises. “Be nice,” your mom says. As you turn to her, her lips are curling into a wide smile. “Carlos! Reyes! Such a delight to see you both again. And, Carlos,” she turns to the younger one, “it’s an absolute pleasure to finally see you in a more personal environment.”
You take a deep breath.
Your brothers, bursting with energy, practically race each other to get to Carlos, almost taking you down in the process. He skillfully engages them in conversation, a grin playing on his lips, until your mom intervenes.
"Now, now, boys. You'll have plenty of time to chat," she chuckles. Your mom swiftly moves your overeager brothers and offers an apologetic smile to Carlos. "Apologies, they're just excited.”
“No problem,” he says, in Italian, something he doesn’t do often when he’s alone with you. He claims he still needs to learn dirty talk in Italian. You love to teach him by whispering it into his ear. More than that, you love watching his face as he slowly grasps their meaning.
Your dad, then, approaches him for a way-too-manly handshake, but a warm smile reigns on his lips. “Carlos, great to see you again.”
“Thank you, sir. Likewise.”
In the meantime, you went to Reyes. She graced you with a compliment, a kiss on the cheek and the promise to visit your atelier in the near future. Then, it’s time for her husband, and you’re already wearing your best smile because that man is beaming as he’s watching you.
“My dear,” after two kisses on the cheeks, he slightly turns to Carlos. “So nice to see you again. Son,” he calls, and Carlos turns to you, his smile radiant, his eyes sparkling under the warm, ambient lights of the restaurant. “Let me introduce you to Y/N.”
"You're even more beautiful than my mom described," he remarks, his words catching you off guard. You manage to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, opting instead for a faint smile. “My dad has shared so much about you. Couldn’t wait to meet you.”
A surge of mixed emotions washes over you. On one hand, there's a twinge of frustration that he didn't tell his family about your connection, correcting your mistake and saving you from embarrassment. Yet, as his adoring gaze meets yours, it's hard not to be swept away by his warm compliments.
“Oh,” you murmur, feeling something shift inside you. Your own words surprise you, leaving you momentarily at a loss. "Thank you. Likewise."
Unknown to you, you echo almost exactly what Carlos had just said to your dad. The similarity draws a chuckle from Senior, who seems to find the exchange quite entertaining. Carlos chuckles as well and motions to the restaurant with his head.
“Should we?”
As the evening progresses, you can't help but steal glances at Carlos when you think no one is looking. You catch his eye occasionally, and he responds with subtle winks and sly smirks that send shivers down your spine. It's almost like a secret language only the two of you understand. He’s sitting in front of you, of course.
“Piccina,” your mom calls. “Why don’t you tell Carlos about your job?”
With a smile, you turned to face Carlos. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and you have to take a second before answering. He’s no stranger to your job. Not at all. Sometimes he even lands a helping hand, providing some foot massages while you’re working through tight deadlines and he doesn’t take “no” for an answer when he asks if he can come over.
So you simply say, “I’m a fashion designer.”
“Oh,” it’s the polite oh, not the filled-with-curiosity one. You know he’s about to say something stupid when his tongue peeks through his lips and the corner of his lips starts raising, moulding his mouth in a smirk. “So you just play dress-up for a living?”
Laughter bubbled up from one of your brothers, earning him a scolding look from your mom. They’re just nine, which makes them fifteen years younger than you. Fondly referred to as "an accident" by your parents, they were the light of your life, even if they were quite the whirlwind.
“And you, Carlos, you just play with cars on the weekends?” Carlos's eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked down, a chuckle escaping him. Sr. Carlos wore a pleased smile, and a delightful warmth settled in your belly.
"Some might find it hard to believe, but we do manage to squeeze in some actual work during the week," Carlos chimed in, earning a laugh from you. "Have you ever been to a race?”
“No, and I don’t intend to.”
"The boys are the true racing enthusiasts,” your dad chimes in. “The girls prefer to stay at home, or walk around when we travel for a Grand Prix.”
Turning to you, Carlos's eyes danced with mischief. You remembered a previous conversation where he'd tried to persuade you to attend the Italian Grand Prix, just a few weeks away. Wanting to stop him, because he’s so predictable that you just know what he’s about to say, you try to change the subject.
“Talking about races, are you playing on doing Dakar again next year, Signore?”
Carlos dismisses your question right away. "I think your perspective might change once you experience a Grand Prix firsthand.”
And this time, Carlos Sr. joins him. "Why not extend an invitation for them to visit the garage? I'm sure the kids will love the opportunity. And, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find it all exciting. You seem like a curious girl.”
Carlos beamed. "Consider this an invitation. I can't wait to have you all there.”
Your brothers practically have a collective stroke, their young minds struggling to process the idea of visiting Carlos in the garage. As for your dad, despite his time in the paddock, had never had the chance to visit the Ferrari garage, so, despite keeping his composure, you know how much it means to him—he’s undeniably the most fervent tifoso you'd ever known.
With a grateful smile, you spoke up. "That's incredibly kind of you. Thank you.”
Carlos leans comfortably against his Alfa Romeo parked in easy reach of your dad’s Audi. Your brothers are sleeping in the back seat, while your parents conclude their chat. They’re getting along well, which is weird but comforting to some degree.
You shoot Carlos a serious glance. “How much longer are you going to keep up with this little thing you started?”
“Me? May I remind you that you were the one who didn’t tell him we met?” You roll your eyes at his words and grab the door knob. “Wait. Don’t you see he’s trying to set us up?”
“And?”
“Play along. Let him have it.”
There's a moment of silent understanding, the shared secret between you adding an extra layer of intimacy. Despite it all, you crack a smile.
“You’re so childish.” You say. “You’ll be the one who’s gonna tell him.”
“I’ll tackle that when we get there,” Carlos assures. And slowly, a playful glint shines in his eyes. “Should I swing by your place on my way home?”
“No way. I have work tomorrow, a lot of work to do and I can’t afford to be tired to do it.”
He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You can stay at mine, then. And I could drive you to work. It’ll give you an extra thirty minutes of sleep.”
You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You don’t even know where I work.”
“Of course, I do,” he assures.
That’s new. “Well,” you take a deep breath and discreetly hand him over your apartment keys. “I won’t ring the bell because the old lady on my floor will listen and I think she’s spying on me. I’ll call when I’m there.”
As you're about to bid him goodnight, your dad's voice calls out from a distance, catching Carlos's attention. He waves warmly and flashes a friendly smile, which Carlos mimics.
“Golf on Sunday?” your dad asks.
Carlos's eyes light up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Can't wait!”
You can't help but interject, “Golfing with my dad, again? What the heck are you doing?”
Carlos grins. “Finding a golfing partner, since someone here,” he gestures playfully at you, “refuses to join me. And unfortunately, my dad isn't always around in Italy to tag along.”
You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. “Alright, Sainz. Nice to meet you. See you soon.”
He drives you to work and to your surprise, he actually knows where that is. How? You can’t tell. Apparently, he also remembers that you bring breakfast for your mentor on Saturdays because just before he drops you off, he offers to join you for a few minutes, just to pick up breakfast with you.
“Since you’ve got no time to eat with me, I’ll just tag along and annoy you for ten minutes more.”
You let him enter the coffee shop with you and he hovers on your back while you order two moccas and two brownies to go with it. Your mentor is not picky, and this Saturday breakfast tradition only started because you wanted to thank him for granting you a few hours from his weekend to help you with your designs. Technically, it’s not work, but it’s just as demanding.
You can feel Carlos’ breath against your hair, and the faint smell of his cologne, still hanging in his shirt from the previous night. This morning, the buttons are undone, and the sleeves are folded up. His hair is tousled and his beard is imperfect. Yet he’s the most handsome man around.
“First time picking up breakfast together,” he says as you’re walking towards the door. “Is this the equivalent to marriage in your dictionary?”
“Don’t make me regret all the past decisions I’ve made.”
“Hm,” he hums, tilting his head. “What could I possibly make you regret?”
“Simply the fact of accepting to be introduced to you,” You let an exaggerated sigh leave your lips. “I’m living the nightmare all over again.”
Just before leaving a kiss on your cheek, he whispers. “Didn’t sound like a nightmare when I made you come thrice last night, baby. But go off.” He then kisses you on the cheek. “Have a good day.”
Carlos is too busy that night, and your Sunday is reserved for a family gathering. By Monday, you're back to your routine of nodding off right after dinner, so by the time Tuesday arrives, you’re already missing him. Not him—just his body in your bed, the sensation of his thick lips sliding down your navel and the sound of your name rolling off his tongue, wrapped up in that beautiful deep Spanish accent of his. You know he’s driving next weekend, so you spend all Wednesday staring at your phone, trying to summon a text from him.
When it finally pings, around 5 pm, it’s from your dad.
papà: heading to squash in an hour. up for a game? papà: no use in saying no papà: you already missed two weeks you: 🙄🙄🙄 you: i’ll meet you there!
You were the one who introduced your dad to squash, and gradually, it evolved into a bonding activity for both of you. Words don't flow easily with him, and you’re not great at demonstrating feelings so it’s difficult to connect with your dad. On top of that, you moved out really early. Slowly squash became a great way to connect and have quality time with him, release some steam, and stay in shape.
“I’m surprised. You never mentioned that you play squash,” a voice chimes in from behind, and you can't help but let out a sigh when you turn around.
It's Carlos, donned in a stupidly tight turquoise shirt that perfectly hugs and draws the contour of his chest, and sporting the briefest shorts you've ever seen him wear. He smiles. He knows he looks hot.
“How could I?” You reply, trying to not showcase how weak your knees just turned. “We only met like… five days ago.”
Carlos chuckles. “You’re funny. Did I tell you that yet?”
“Hmmm. You haven’t had the chance, yet.”
Sainz Sr. approaches you both, moving at a leisurely pace, absorbed in his phone. When he looks up, his frown disappears and an adoring smile takes his lips. His hand rests on his son’s shoulder as he remarks, “Didn’t I tell you today would be a perfect day for a match?”
Carlos turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "You did. What a coincidence.”
"Indeed," you chime in. "May I challenge you, sir? My dad’s still on a call and I have no partner."
“Oh, Carlos can join you,” he suggests with a nod in Carlos’ direction. “I’ll wait for your dad. We have some matters to discuss. Carry on, you two.”
Of. Course.
As the two of you step onto the squash court, the competitive glint in Carlos' eyes is hard to miss. And the tension in the air is palpable, you feel it in your bones. But you take a deep breath and push it aside, focusing on the game ahead.
"Why the sudden cold shoulder?" Carlos inquires as you prepare to start.
You glance at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm getting radio silence from you—no calls, no texts. You're not picking up my calls, either. What’s going on?"
You roll your neck, trying to ease the tension. Yesterday you just collapsed onto your couch, once again. You were living in survival mode. And wouldn’t be there playing if it wasn't a long-standing tradition with your dad.
"Work's been keeping me busy," you shrug.
It's not entirely a lie. But it’s not totally true either.
Let’s see—you've been involved in this situationship for almost five months now, seeing each other sporadically, sometimes even daily, if Carlos is in Milan. Yet, it's all so casual. You can recall the day he mentioned introducing you to his parents, of course. As a matter of fact, that talk has been looping in your mind for the last few days, but… it was a joke. Right? Sure it was. Why would he want his parents to meet his... whatever?
You could have texted him earlier. You would have texted him a few weeks ago, before all this. You can’t quite figure out why you’re panicking and why you’re behaving like a rom-com character, but you are.
"Come on, that excuse won't stick with me."
“Too bad. Can we play?" You grip the racket, twirling it in your hands. You look back, at his dad sitting on the benches, watching you from afar. “Please?”
He lets out a sigh and nods. Finally, you think.
"Is this a date?" he asks, grabbing a ball from his shorts and meeting your gaze.
"No." You're firm, and once again, he frowns. "It's not. For one, you didn't invite me. We just happened to both be here. It's coincidental.” He laughs here, slightly tilting his head back. You both know it is not coincidental. “And two, that's not what we're doing."
He cracks a smile, almost teasing. "So, what are we not doing?"
"The dating thing. We're not dating."
"Aren't we?" He smirks, his tongue peeking out, licking his lips.
You shake your head. "Nope."
"Alright, cool. Just wanted to be clear on that," Carlos replies with a nonchalant shrug, though you detect a glimmer of amusement in his voice. He’s as annoying as he’s pretty.
The first serve is swift and precise. The sound of the ball hitting the wall reverberates through the court. You dive into the game, putting your all into each movement. It's a dance of strategy and agility. You’re exhausted, but you put on a fight, using banter as your weapon. On the outside, your parents are watching, and you can’t help but notice Sainz Sr. is thoroughly enjoying this.
Sweat starts to bead on your foreheads, but neither of you shows any sign of slowing down. He wants to win and well… you want to make him lose. As you play, you steal glances at Carlos, his concentration evident in the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes, in the curse words he whispers under his breath, ones that frustration draws from him. You’ve heard them before. Oh, God, you’ve heard so much worse. But it all combined? This is a side of him you haven't seen before, and it's exhilarating.
After a particularly intense rally, Carlos manages to secure a point with a deftly placed shot. He smirks, clearly pleased with himself. "You're not making this easy," he remarks.
You grin, determined. "Wouldn't want to go easy on you, now, would I?"
The court echoes with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the thud of the ball hitting the walls. Time seems to blur as you lose yourself in the rhythm of the game. He makes you laugh and shout insults in his direction, to which he laughs.
Finally, after a hard-fought match, Carlos clinches the victory. It's a close call, and you’re about to pass out. It’s a shitty mixture of disappointment and pride. Leaning against the wall of the court, you try toth catch your breath.
"You're pretty good at this," Carlos admits, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel.
"Yeah, well, I have to stay in shape to keep up with you," you quip.
He chuckles, "Am I that demanding?"
"Am I that demanding?" You repeat, forcing a Spanish accent and a deep voice. He chuckles and stands up straight. "Did your dad tell you to come here today?"
"Yes. For some reason, he really likes you. Like I told you he would."
You can't help but chuckle at Carlos's words. "Well, he’s certainly enjoying playing cupid. But hey, fun game.”
Carlos nods a genuine smile on his face. "Yeah, it was. Finally got to see you outside the flat. It's quite weird to see you with clothes at this point."
"Oh, God, you're such a prick."
He laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Can I drop by later today?"
You glance toward your parents, who are engaged in a lively conversation, and then back at Carlos.
"No. Early morning tomorrow. And I still have work to finish today.” You’re not lying to him, you’re lying to yourself. Even when he’s looking at you with puppy eyes, you don’t go back with your words. Instead, you stand up straight and fix your hair. “Should I expect to coincidently meet you somewhere else in the next few days?"
You know the answer to that question. You know he’s going to be away for two weekends. And you kinda know he knows you know, because when he answers, there’s the faintest smile on his lips.
"I'll be off for two weeks. Hungary and Belgium.”
"Good luck at those, then.”
“Really appreciate it.”
Yeah, so…. That night, Carlos texted you. Not a casual “u up?”, but a “it was so fucking unfair to see you in that skirt and not being able to fuck you in it” and naturally you couldn’t help but to let out an exasperated groan and promptly respond with a “come over.” So, twenty minutes later you were being screwed against your kitchen counter.
And now you’re on the couch, his head buried between your legs, eating you up like a starved man. Yes. You need to be fit to keep up with this man’s stamina. He’s that demanding. But you can’t complain.
It’s been like this. A lot of pleasure. And then a lot of peace of mind.
Afterwards, he reclines on the chaise lounge, scrolling through TV channels, looking for something remotely bearable. You go get your sketch notebook and use his torso as a pillow. He watches tv and you work, until sleep creeps over you and you fall asleep in his arms.
Five months of this. You can’t put a label on it, but you can’t imagine living without it.
Carlos only wakes you up to take you to bed, and that night he sleeps over, sprawled across your bed like a starfish, leaving you clinging to him to not fall over. In the morning, you make out in bed, lazy and sleepy. He fucks you in the shower, and then he’s off again. He texts you when he's at the airport, and once more when he lands in whichever country he's racing in. Meanwhile, you carry on with your everyday life—a bit more mundane than being fuckbuddies with a Scuderia Ferrari driver but just as busy.
As it became regular, you exchange a few texts while he's away. It's become a ritual—complimenting him on how handsome he looks after his sessions, and him requesting a selfie so he can return the favour. He sends you snapshots of random things that made him think of you, and if truth be told, you do the same. You share selfies as you stroll by the Ferrari store in Milan and send him memes (which sometimes require a brief explanation). Without fail, he sends you a good morning and a good night, and whenever you're awake, you make sure to reply.
And life happens for those two weeks.
It’s boring. It’s dull. It’s ordinary.
And then on a Monday evening your bell rings and you can’t help but leave your apartment and wait for him on the landing, right in front of the elevator, not caring if your neighbour is watching through the peephole.
“Missed me?” he quips, already unburdening himself of his backpack as he steps out of the elevator. Sunglasses perched atop his head, skin kissed by the sun, eyes wide like the moon. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.
“Never,” you jest, but it's a flimsy façade, quickly shattered as you pull him close, urgency coursing through you.
Damn, you've missed him. You crave him.
And he craves you too. He's straightforward in showing it.
After you both shower, you settle on the couch. You ask him about why he had two races that weekend and he teases you because you finally demonstrate an interest in F1, and only then, after you’re insulting him and threatening to not go to Monza, he actually explains to you how a sprint weekend works, but he’s being so nerdy and so adorable and his eyes are sparkling so much that you just get back in his lap and ride him again, but this time slower, and more passionate, like you’re feeling something materialise inside you. And you come on his lap, and he kisses you slowly, and you tell him you actually missed him.
For dinner, you agree on sushi and night falls while you’re watching The Office for the only-God knows-how-many time, curled up in each other and drinking wine.
Apparently, there’s a mandatory period of vacations in F1 and unfortunately, it doesn’t match your own. So, Carlos is away with friends and family, in boats and islands in the Mediterranean, and you’re torn between Roma, Venice and Milan, assisting in campaign photoshoots.
Your days are long, exhausting and you’re tired and wishing you could be suntanning somewhere in Greece, but you’re sitting on a train, pushing small talk with your colleagues so you won’t fall asleep and drool over yourself.
Until a notification pops up on your phone, and you drop everything you’re saying because there’s a small chance that is a photo from Carlos, or some text, or just a reminder of his existence. You mentally slap yourself. When did you get that dependent?
But it’s just an email. And it’s from your mom.
You frown.
She doesn’t usually use email. Nor is interested in art galleries in Madrid.
You read through the details and you notice something interesting. The invitation has been forwarded from none other than Carlos Sainz Sr. And it makes you laugh. You take a screenshot that you send to Carlos.
you: so, your dad's moonlighting as an art promoter now? did you fire him? hot wheels guy: seems like it. he said he was going to invite you hot wheels guy: and no, i didn’t fire him primarily because he doesn’t work for me you: well it actually does sound interesting hot wheels guy: so you’re coming? you: perhaps hot wheels guy: it’s a good chance for you to meet my sisters you: don’t you have like a dog for me to meet, too? hot wheels guy: two, piñon and oil hot wheels guy: oli is a really jealous girl. i doubt she will like you you: looking forward to meet them. and your sisters too, of course hot wheels guy: and about me? you: i already met you twice. don’t need another introdution
One week later, you’re in Madrid. Sainz Sr. arrives home while you’re talking with Reyes in the kitchen, while she cooks gazpacho for lunch. Oli is in your lap, licking your cheek as your fingers get lost in the small white waves of her fur.
“Hope you get here easily. Did you take an Uber?” Sainz says right after gracing you with a small hug and two polite kisses on the cheeks. Before paying, he also leaves a pat on Oli’s head.
“Carlos picked me up at the airport, actually.”
A pleased smile creeps across Sainz Sr.'s face, like a child in a candy shop. He glances over at Carlos, who's lounging on the couch, a few meters from you.
“She’s a guest.” He points out. You didn’t even realise he was listening to your conversation. You wonder if he was listening to what you and Reyes were saying before. “I wouldn’t have let her take an Uber.”
“You’re getting along well,” the dad points out. “Doesn’t surprise me.”
Between the art and the hushed corridors of the gallery, you often find yourselves alone. A stolen kiss in the quiet garden, where the fragrance of blooming flowers mingles with the electric charge between you. And then another, amidst the art, when the room empties and you’re left in the silence of creativity, where the only beauty that matters is reflected in the depths of his eyes.
He holds your hand and listens to your explanations about art and strokes and colour theory. And he calls you a nerd. Of course, he does. And you laugh and look at each other, and kiss again, not caring if there’s someone around.
When you come back home, his sisters and parents are still in the living room, so you sit with them, still wearing your cocktail dress and Carlos still looking gorgeous in his tuxedo. You picked up churros on your way home, so you’re just basking in the serenity and the domesticity of it all. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter weaving through the air. You share stories, revealing snippets of your lives to his family, like they’re slowly becoming yours.
Ana. Blanca. Oli. Reyes. Carlos. And your Carlos, who looks at you with a warmth in his eyes that is capable of melting every cell of your body.
You can get used to this.
You only spend one night in Madrid. You sleep over at the Sainz’s—Reyes didn’t let you consider a hotel, so she prepared one of the guest rooms in advance. Surprisingly, it’s not the first time you and Carlos sleep under the same roof without having sex, but it’s the first time you do so in separate beds. And you feel restless. You lay in bed, your gaze fixed on the wall as if by sheer will, it will become transparent and grant you a view of him sleeping—the contours of his face softened in serenity, his lashes grazing his cheekbones.
According to Google, Autodromo Nazionale Monza is exactly 39 minutes away from your flat by car. Which isn’t a lot.
You’re not sure what to wear, or what’s exactly going to happen.
It’s Friday. It’s his birthday. He looks gorgeous in the photos that everyone is posting. You just need to get to the track, meet your parents and take your family to the garage. It’s as simple as that.
But you haven’t seen Carlos for more than a week, and the idea of finally seeing him is consuming you.
So you dump your worries in your wardrobe. You search for the few Ferrari pieces you have in your closet and you put out an outfit, and make-up and pretend you’re just going to an event you know nothing about. Because that’s almost the case.
Between the small crowd and the electric atmosphere and the midst of the symphony of roaring engines, you spot your parents and your brothers—their eyes wide with wonder. They’re donning Ferrari shirts and hats, each one with a different number on their clothes.
This blend of family and racing feels strangely comforting.
There’s a guy waiting for you by the entrance, with your passes. You follow him. He asks about the ride to the circuit, if it's your first time, and you can actually relieve some of the anticipation with that small talk. But you’re taking so long.
The corridor leading to the garages seems to stretch endlessly, each step an eternity.
"He's in the garage, preparing for the session. You'll have to be quick," the man informs you, but his words are mere background noise. All that matters is Carlos, and he's waiting. That's all you need.
Stepping into the garage, the noise amplifies. It's a chaotic dance of technicians and engineers, each absorbed in their tasks. You scan the frenetic scene, searching for him, but his absence is louder than the noise.
“Carlos must be arriving. Boys,” he drops to your brothers. “Want to see the car up close?”
Of course, they say yes, and they follow the man. Your dad tags along and your mother? Well, she’s apparently very interested in the sport, as well.
The first Sainz you see is Carlos’ cousin, to whom you’ve been not introduced yet, but who quickly recognizes you. You introduce yourself, and he chuckles and you say you’re “Carlos’ friend”. And then Sainz Sr. appears, with Carlos right beside him, talking to a tall skinny guy.
And God. He’s a vision in that damned racing suit.
Time seems to slow as he approaches, and when he turns to you, his eyes light up with a radiant smile. The world fades away.
“Happy birthday,” is all that occurs to you.
And a “thank you for being here,” is all that he can say before being dragged away to the screens.
This time it isn’t Reyes or Sainz Sr., but Carlos who invites your family for dinner. It's an offer you simply can't refuse, and even though your brothers are practically nodding off from fatigue, the moment they step inside the Hotel de la Ville, and notice where they are, exhaustion seems to magically dissipate.
The entire day was amazing, but you’ve barely had a chance to be near Carlos. So, as he finally takes his seat across from you, the desire to kiss him simmers just beneath your skin, burning you whole. He's clad in his signature red shirt, his unruly hair falling playfully over his forehead. And he’s wearing white jeans, which makes the colour of his tanned skin intensify.
Caught in the act of admiring him, you see him move his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and swiftly adjust your position in the chair, refocusing on your dads’ intense discussion about the latest football market moves.
“Piccina,” your mother chimes in. “You never told me about the Madrid trip. The gallery. Was it nice?”
You glance at your mother and then at the whole table. Carlos has that playful twinkle in his eyes, clearly anticipating to hear you stutter as you try to talk about the exhibition. Well, you did pay attention to the art, of course, but what remains in your mind is the way Carlos’ eyes always managed to drift to you, no matter which room you were in.
“It was beautiful, Mom,” you reply, offering her a warm smile. “I’ve already told Carlos how grateful I am for the invite.” At the head of the table, Sainz Sr. smiles at you, with a simple yet approving nod. “The other Carlos tagged along with me. He got to learn a lot about art. Right, junior?”
Carlos leans to you, propping his elbows on the table, a trace of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"I have to admit, you managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting."
Thankfully, Sainz Sr.'s hearty laughter momentarily steals everyone's attention, giving you a chance to regain your composure. Your cheeks are warm, and from the feeling of them, you know they’re red. You managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting. And he smiles, because he knows you badly you’re falling.
"Well, that's impressive,” your dad chimes.
And you're not sure if he's complimenting Carlos's smooth line or your ability to be a guide. So you ignore him and try to play it cool.
“So,” your mom continues, her hand resting on your arm, her curiosity fully piqued. "You two spent a good time together in Madrid?"
You share a subtle glance with Carlos before nodding. "Yes, we did. It was a great exhibition."
A brief hush falls over the table and you can’t help but feel like you’re under a microscope and everyone can see through you. Carlos’ gaze, steady and unwavering, is locked onto you, and you feel yourself softening, captured in his attention.
“Well,” Sainz Sr., who's been quietly observing, interjects with a warm smile. "It seems like you two have been getting along quite well."
Carlos chuckles and looks down, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his glass. You both exchange a quick look, a silent understanding passing between you.
It’s time.
"Actually," you start, "we've been getting along really, really well."
Reyes leans in. "Oh? Do tell."
“We’ve been…” You hesitate, glancing at Carlos for support.
He meets your gaze. “Dating,” he completes your sentence with a confident smile. “We’ve been dating for a while now. Six, seven-ish months?”
Sainz Sr.’s eyes light up, and then he furrows his brows, clearly processing the information. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch the gears turning in his mind.
“That’s before—way before I… introduced you.”
“In my defence,” you chime in. “I did try to tell you we’ve already met before. Blame your son. He’s the one who decided to play with you for so long.”
“Well, this is… wonderful news.” Sainz Sr. beams. You steak a glance at Carlos, knowing he’s definitely going to tease you about how genuinely pleased you looked after revealing the truth. “So, seven months, eh? Okay. When’s the wedding? And when do I get Carlos the 3rd?”
I had so much fun writing this one!!! I used every little break at work to write this. It's a bit different than what I usually write, so all feedback is appreciated. Thank you for the request! 🫶
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pucksandpower · 20 days
Text
It Started With an Appendix
Carlos Sainz x nurse!Reader
Summary: in which an inflamed appendix turns out to be the ultimate matchmaker
Warnings: medical ethics are basically thrown out the window
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“Y/N, the patient in room 312 is awake,” a voice calls from the hall outside the nurses’ station.
You make your way down the bright, sterile corridor toward the private room, the scent of antiseptic lingering in the air. Taking a breath, you rap your knuckles lightly on the door before entering.
Carlos Sainz Jr. is propped up in the hospital bed, blinking slowly as the anesthesia wears off. His tousled hair and grogginess make him look adorably vulnerable.
“Hola, señorita,” he slurs with a lopsided grin as you approach. “Are you an angel? You must have fallen from heaven.”
You can’t help but giggle at his cheesy line, shaking your head in amusement. “No, Mr. Sainz, I’m your nurse. You just had your appendix removed.”
“Call me Carlos,” he insists, his Spanish accent thick and velvety. “And you’re definitely an angel to me.”
Suppressing another laugh, you check his vitals and make a note on his chart. “How are you feeling, Carlos? Any pain or nausea?”
“I feel ... floaty,” he murmurs, blinking slowly as he looks you up and down. “But you’re making me feel much better already.”
You bite your lip to contain your smile. This man is incorrigible, even fresh out of surgery. “That’s the pain medication talking, I’m afraid.”
“No, no ...” Carlos protests weakly. “You’re just ... muy bonita. So beautiful.”
His boldness makes warmth bloom in your cheeks. You clear your throat. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? The anesthesia can make people loopy for a while.”
“Don’t go,” he pouts, trying and failing to grab your hand from the bed. “Stay and keep me company, hermosa.”
You gently lay his hand back at his side. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need anything, okay?”
Carlos levels you with a look that could melt glaciers. “At least tell me your name, ángel?”
Holding his smoldering gaze, you reply softly, “It’s Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he echoes, savoring each syllable. “What a beautiful name. Maybe I’ll dream of you, Y/N ...”
With a flustered smile, you turn and exit the room, his flirtatious words still ringing in your ears. This man is going to be the death of you.
Over the next few hours, you check on Carlos periodically, each time greeted by a fresh cheesy line or thinly-veiled compliment. He’s relentless, but also strangely endearing in his drug-addled state.
“Did the sun come out or did you just smile at me?”
“Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got fine written all over you.”
“I must be in a museum, because you truly are a work of art.”
You roll your eyes at each one, but can’t deny the little thrill it sends through you. Despite his grogginess, Carlos’ charisma still shines through effortlessly.
By the time your shift ends, you’re almost disappointed you won’t get to hear any more of his terrible pickup lines. You linger a moment in his doorway after bringing him his evening dose of medication.
“Feeling any better?” You ask kindly.
Carlos gives you a crooked smile. “I feel a lot better when you’re around, querida.”
You shake your head in playful exasperation. “Get some rest. I’m off for the night.”
His expression turns almost ... wistful? “Will I see you again?”
Something warm blooms in your chest at his hopeful tone. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” you assure him. “Same time.”
The bright grin that stretches across his face is worth a million cheesy lines. “Buenas noches, mi ángel.”
You don’t bother holding back your smile this time. “Good night, Carlos.”
As you make your way home, his handsome face and melted chocolate voice keep popping into your mind unbidden.
You try to push thoughts of Carlos from your mind as you cook yourself dinner and get ready for bed. He’s just a patient — a ridiculously charming one, yes, but a patient all the same.
Still, as you drift off to sleep, his teasing grin and warm brown eyes seem seared into the back of your mind ...
The next morning, you arrive at the hospital with a new spring in your step. You can’t help but look forward to seeing Carlos again, newly appendix-less or no.
When you enter his room with his breakfast tray, the sleepy Spaniard perks up instantly at the sight of you. “Y/N! Buenos dias, hermosa!”
You chuckle at his enthusiasm. “Good morning, Carlos. How are you feeling today?”
“Much better now that mi ángel has arrived,” he declares boldly.
As you check his vitals, he continues to bat those ridiculously long eyelashes at you. “You must be a hell of a thief, because you stole my heart from across the hospital room.”
You snort at the line, rolling your eyes in amusement. “You do realize those cheesy pick-up lines aren’t going to work on me, right?”
“Not cheesy ... poetic,” Carlos argues with an impish grin. “Poetry for a woman of your beauty.”
You raise an eyebrow in mock skepticism. “Is that so?”
“Of course,” he nods matter-of-factly. “Here, let me demonstrate ...”
Carlos clears his throat dramatically. “Your eyes shame the brilliance of the desert sun, while your lips put roses to shame with their beauty. A sculptor could study your face for a lifetime and never capture its perfection in marble.”
Despite yourself, you can feel heat rising to your cheeks at his earnest compliments. “I ... you can’t just-”
But he’s not done. “While bandits would slay and sack entire cities for even a glimpse of your splendor. Why, the gods themselves weep at being outdone by such a radiant vision of loveliness!”
By now, your face is burning scarlet as he gazes up at you, eyes sparkling impishly. “Th-that’s enough, Carlos,” you manage, turning away and busying yourself straightening his blankets to hide your flustered expression.
You can hear the grin in his voice. “Too much for you, hermosa? I haven’t even gotten to the part about your luscious ti-”
“Carlos!” You squeak, spinning back around with wide eyes.
His mischievous laughter fills the room, head thrown back in pure delight at your scandalized reaction. The melodic sound is utterly infectious — soon you find yourself giggling helplessly along despite your embarrassment.
“You’re terrible, you know that?” You admonish once you’ve caught your breath, trying and failing to look stern.
He winks unapologetically. “I’m just being honest, ángel.”
You shake your head in feigned exasperation, trying to ignore the little thrill his flirtations still send through you. “I should get going before you corrupt me further.”
As you turn to leave, Carlos calls after you. “Until later, mi amor! Don’t forget my poetry books for next time!”
His infectious laughter follows you into the hallway, that bright sound certain to play on a loop in your mind all day ...
Over the next few days, Carlos’ recovery progresses smoothly — maybe a little too smoothly, you think with a private smirk. His cheesy compliments and relentless flirting show no signs of letting up, much to your mingled embarrassment and secret delight.
“For you, hermosa, I would wrestle bulls and paint sunsets!”
“Mother Nature herself must be jealous of your radiant beauty.”
“Careful, or you’ll put the Arabian sun to shame with your smile!”
You somehow manage to roll your eyes and blush simultaneously each time he unleashes a new line. Part of you wishes he would just give it a rest already. But an even bigger part never wants this game you two have going to end.
On your third day caring for Carlos post-op, you arrive to find a small bouquet of red roses sitting on his bedside table. “These are for you, querida!” He announces happily when you enter.
You blink in surprise, taking in the brilliant flowers. “Carlos, you didn’t have to-”
“Of course I did,” he cuts you off dismissively. “An ángel as dazzling as you deserves all the flowers in the world.”
A pleased smile tugs at your lips despite yourself as you inhale their sweet fragrance. “They’re lovely, Carlos ... thank you.”
“Anything for you, mi amor,” he grins impishly. “Though it pains me to give a rose to one who outshines it so effortlessly.”
You shake your head, fighting a blush yet again. “Are you always this much of a shameless flirt?”
His eyes dance with impish delight. “Only to beautiful nurses who make my heart race faster than any lap around the fastest street circuit on the calendar.” Carlos pauses, expression turning serious. “Truthfully Y/N ... I know I’m a patient, but I feel a connection with you. Something deeper than just pretty words.”
You regard him carefully, caught off guard by his sudden earnestness. Part of you wants to laugh it off, dismiss his words like all the cheesy lines before. But something in his warm and open gaze gives you pause.
“I ... feel it too,” you admit quietly after a moment. “I don’t know why, it’s just ... a spark. Like we’ve known each other for years.”
Carlos’s face breaks into a brilliant smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “Exactly, ángel! A connection of the soul — that is what it feels like to me.”
He holds out a hand in invitation, eyes soft yet intense. “Come over here? Let me get a closer look at mi amor’s beautiful face.”
You move toward the bed instinctively, taking his hand as he guides you to sit at the edge. His touch sends little electric tingles coursing through you that raise goosebumps along your arms. Even when you’re seated, Carlos has to look up slightly from where he’s reclining on a pile of pillows to meet your eyes, his thumb caressing your knuckles tenderly.
“So lovely,” he murmurs huskily, eyes tracing your features reverently. “A woman more beautiful than Aphrodite herself. And just as captivating ...”
Slowly, carefully, he lifts your joined hands to brush his lips along your knuckles in a feather-light kiss. The simple, intimate gesture steals the breath from your lungs.
“Carlos ...” you start breathlessly, hardly daring to move lest you break the hypnotic spell between you two.
He gives you that crooked, heart-melting grin. “Let me take you to dinner when I’m out of here, mi ángel? So I can woo you properly like you deserve.”
Despite the warm tingles his attention still sends through you, you nibble your lip uncertainly. “I ... I don’t think that would be appropriate. You’re my patient-”
“Just dinner,” he interjects smoothly. “As a thank you for taking such wonderful care of me. I insist on repaying you somehow.”
You search his face, wanting so badly to throw caution to the wind and say yes. He could charm the feathers off a bird, this man.
“Just dinner,” he reiterates in a low, sincere tone. “And if nothing else ... maybe we both make a new friend, yes?”
A slow smile spreads across your face, anticipation blooming in your chest. “Alright then. Just dinner.”
The boyish grin he gives you makes your breath catch. “Excellent! I’ll wine and dine you like a true gentleman, you’ll see.”
You roll your eyes, even as a giggle escapes you. “I’ll hold you to that.”
With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Carlos lifts it once more to brush his lips across your knuckles, holding your gaze intently.
“I cannot wait, mi amor.”
***
The luxurious restaurant that Carlos chose for your dinner date is dimly lit by ornate lanterns and alive with the sounds of traditional music. You can’t help but let your eyes linger on him as you’re shown to your private table tucked away in a secluded corner.
Even in a simple shirt and slacks, Carlos looks effortlessly dashing. His warm eyes crinkle at the corners when he catches you staring, rewarding you with that heart-melting smile.
“See something you like, querida?” He teases once you’re seated across from him.
You feel heat rush to your cheeks at being so brazenly caught out. Recovering quickly, you arch an eyebrow cooly. “You just look different out of that hospital gown, that’s all.”
Carlos throws back his head with a rich laugh. “Ah, so you prefer me in my natural state then? Bueno, no complaints here!”
You shake your head in amusement, trying not to smile too widely. “Is that ego really as big as they say?”
“What ego?” He asks innocently, shrugging broad shoulders. “This is merely healthy self-confidence, mi ángel.”
The banter comes so effortlessly between you two, like going back-and-forth with an old friend rather than a man you just met days ago. Carlos reaches across the table to take your hand, calloused fingers stroking your knuckles gently.
“Truthfully? I’m just thrilled you agreed to have dinner with me tonight,” he admits in a low tone. “I wasn’t sure if all my flirting was too much.”
You chuckle softly, gazing at him through the glow of the lantern between you. “It was definitely ... persistent. But also strangely charming, if I’m being honest.”
A pleased grin stretches across Carlos’ face, lighting up his handsome features. His thumb caresses your knuckles tenderly as he holds your eyes.
“I meant what I said, Y/N ... I felt an unexplainable connection with you from the moment I woke up in that hospital bed.” His expression turns almost wondering. “Despite my joking and terrible pick-up lines, there was something deeper drawing me to you. Like my soul recognized yours, si?”
You nod slowly, inexplicably understanding exactly what he means. That spark, that feeling of having known him for years — it’s indescribable and yet so real at the same time.
“I felt it too,” you murmur. “A pull, like I was meant to meet you.” You give a soft, self-conscious laugh. “It sounds silly saying it out loud.”
But Carlos shakes his head adamantly. “Not silly at all, cariño. Spiritual, cosmic, whatever you want to call it — I felt it too, and I don’t question these things anymore.”
He leans in conspiratorially. “Do you know what the nomadic Bedouin peoples of Arabia call that? Finding your namiah.”
You can’t help the way your heart flutters at the unfamiliar word and the enchanted look on his face. “What does it mean?” You breathe.
“It translates roughly to your twin soul,’" Carlos explains in a hushed tone. “Two souls destined to connect in this life. Bound together across lifetimes, finally reunited.”
He gives your hand a meaningful squeeze, utterly transfixed. “The Bedouins believe when you encounter your namiah, it’s sacred — a reunion that must be honored and embraced, regardless of what life may throw your way. Because you’ve been given a second chance with your twin soul.”
His words seem to reverberate somewhere deep within you, ringing with an ancient truth you can’t fully grasp but feel with your entire being. Impulsively, you lift Carlos’s hand to your cheek, holding it there as you bathe in his wonder-filled gaze.
For a long, charged moment, the whole world narrows to just the two of you sharing this cosmic revelation. Then the spell breaks as you let out a breathless laugh, eyes shining with amazed delight.
“You believe in destined soulmates? I never would have guessed,” you tease gently.
He chuckles warmly in return, leaning back but keeping your hand pressed tenderly against his cheek. “The universe works in mysterious ways, querida. I’ve learned not to question things my heart recognizes as true.”
A comfortable silence stretches between you, filled with unspoken understanding and newfound intimacy. He grazes his thumb along your cheekbone reverently.
“That’s why I couldn’t stop myself from flirting with you, you know,” Carlos muses in that rumbly tone. “You captivated me from the first moment I laid eyes on you. I knew I had to at least try winning your heart, mi ángel.”
You shake your head in fond exasperation, fighting a smile. “Carlos Sainz, actually a hopeless romantic? Who would have thought ...”
His playful grin is back in full force. “Only for you, hermosa.” Then his eyes take on a hint of hesitant hopefulness. “Speaking of ... there’s actually another reason I wanted to take you to dinner.”
You regard him curiously as the waiter arrives to fill your glasses with water. “Oh? Do tell.”
Carlos takes a fortifying sip before fixing you with those warm, earnest eyes again. “I would be honored if you came to Australia with me in a few weeks. As my guest for the race in Melbourne.”
Your eyes widen in surprise, mouth falling open slightly. “The ... the Grand Prix? In Australia?”
He nods eagerly. “It’s at the end of the month. I will arrange for your travel, put you up in the plushest hotel, everything. My treat.”
Carlos leans in closer, an impish gleam dancing in his eyes. “It would give me the perfect chance to keep wooing you properly, mi amor.”
You let out a disbelieving laugh, barely able to wrap your mind around the unexpected invitation. “Carlos, I ... I can’t just fly across the world like that! I have work, responsibilities-”
“Ah, but you’d only need to take a week or so off,” he counters smoothly. “I’ll handle all the details. You just need to relax and be my honored guest for the weekend.”
He gives you that smoldering look that makes your heart skip a beat. “Let me spoil you, mi ángel. Just say the word and it’s yours.”
Part of you is tempted — so, so tempted by the enthralling prospect. A luxurious vacation with this enchanting man who is already well on his way to sweeping you off your feet? It sounds utterly magical.
But the practical part of you holds you back, brow furrowing with uncertainty. “I don’t know ... even taking time off for a trip like that would be difficult.”
Carlos regards you intently for a moment, reading your hesitation. Then he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, voice turning softer yet insistent.
“Y/N, when was the last time you took a real vacation? Away from the hospital, away from responsibility for a little while ... to just breathe and enjoy life?”
You open your mouth automatically, then pause. Truthfully, you can’t even remember. Life has become an endless cycle of work and sleep with little room for anything else.
“Exactly,” Carlos nods knowingly at your silence. “Everyone needs to get away sometimes, querida. To recharge their soul before the daily grind drains them completely. Even an ángel like you.”
He fixes you with those molten brown eyes again. “Let me give that to you, mi amor. A week to relax, to be spoiled and carefree in one of the most beautiful corners of your world.” One side of his mouth quirks up teasingly. “And with a ruggedly handsome Formula 1 driver to keep you company, of course ...”
You chuckle in spite of yourself, warmth blooming in your chest. He has a point — when was the last time you allowed yourself to have fun and truly unwind? You certainly can’t remember. And if there’s anyone who seems like the ideal travel companion ...
Carlos notices your resolve softening and presses his advantage. “I promise you, it will be an experience you’ll never forget. Put yourself in my hands for just one week — let me take care of everything so you don’t have to lift a finger. What do you say, hermosa?”
His gaze is so open and full of restrained yearning that your breath hitches. You search those bewitching eyes for one more long moment, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of a decision.
Then, with a breathless laugh, you give in to impulse.
“Okay! You win. I’m yours for a week in Australia. Show me what you have in store.”
The smile that slowly spreads across his face is brighter and more radiant than the high desert sun. Carlos lifts your hand to his lips to brush a lingering kiss across your knuckles, sending delicious sparks dancing along your skin.
“Your wish is my command, mi ángel,” he murmurs fervently against your fingers, holding your breathless gaze. “I’ll make sure it’s a trip you’ll never forget.”
***
The bright Australian sun feels glorious on your skin as you relax on the private rooftop terrace of Ferrari’s plush motorhome. Leaning back on the cushioned lounger, you close your eyes and inhale the first deep breath you’ve taken in ... well, you can’t remember how long.
For just this fleeting moment, all the stresses of everyday life as a hardworking nurse seem to melt away into the balmy afternoon air. You’re worlds away from the frenetic hospital routine, from the bright fluorescent lights and permeating smell of antiseptic. Here, surrounded by towering palms swaying lazily in the breeze, you can almost imagine you’re at a lavish resort rather than the Albert Park paddock.
Almost.
A fond smile tugs at your lips as the roar of engines echoes across the circuit. That unmistakable sound is your reminder of just how enchantingly surreal this entire experience has been.
When Carlos first invited you to be his guest at the race, you expected some form of VIP experience to watch the Formula 1 action up close. But you never could have imagined the level of extravagance and pampering he had planned.
From the moment you landed, you’ve been put up at a five-star hotel in the lap of luxury — a stunning penthouse suite, complete with a butler at your beck and call plus a private concierge team to arrange anything you may need. Not that you’ve had time to need anything, with Carlos’s personal assistant, Elena, catering to your every whim.
You had tried to object at first, insisting this level of opulence wasn’t necessary. But Carlos merely placed a finger over your lips with a mischievous grin.
“Ah ah ah, mi ángel — you agreed to let me spoil you for a week, remember?” He chided playfully. “No objections!”
Before you could protest further, he pulled you into his arms, warm and solid and smelling faintly of bergamot. “Just relax and enjoy la buena vida for once. That’s my only condition.”
Looking into those warm brown eyes, you found yourself getting deliciously lost as his breath fanned across your lips. What choice did you have but to nod breathlessly and let yourself be whisked away into his lavish wonderland?
And it has been nothing short of wondrous so far. After being settled into your palatial suite with its giant marble bathroom and wall-to-wall windows, Elena escorted you into the exclusive world of Formula 1.
The Grand Prix itself is certainly glamorous — the electric atmosphere, roar of the cars driving at breath-taking speeds, and prestigious crowds dripping in finery and jewels. But it’s the behind-the-scenes action in the paddock that truly left you dazzled.
Elena led you through a dizzying labyrinth of state-of-the-art motorhomes and garage bays with cutting-edge equipment full of personnel bustling about in a flurry of coordinated movements. She introduced you to a mind-boggling array of mechanics, aerodynamicists, race strategists, hospitality workers, and more.
The entire operation felt like the world’s most organized theatrical production playing out before your very eyes. And at the center of it all? A beacon in red drawing all eyes to where he’s leaning against a metal wall towards the side of the garage? None other than Carlos himself.
Seeing him in this element, commanding the hushed and reverent attention of dozens of crew members with an intense yet unhurried confidence ... there was something almost unbearably sexy about it. His typical warmth and charm were overshadowed by a blazing intensity and poise more potent than any poem he could compose under the haze of painkillers.
Between briefings and warm ups, you managed to steal a few stolen moments with Carlos. Whether brushing a clandestine kiss to the back of your hand or pulling you aside for a heated embrace out of view, he always reaffirmed this sublime fantasy was for you … and you alone.
“Having fun so far, mi ángel?” He would murmur, lips brushing your ear as his hands skimmed teasingly down your sides.
You shivered at the gravelly timbre of his voice, rendered speechless by the fire flickering in his eyes. How could anyone put the depths of your experience into words?
So you simply answered by pulling him into a searing kiss, fingers tangling in those sinfully tousled locks. By the time you parted, Carlos’ pupils were blown wide, chest rising and falling heavily against yours.
“Save some of that fire for after the race, cariño,” he’d say thickly with a wolfish grin. “You may just be the greatest distraction I’ve ever had to overcome.”
With one last smoldering look, he rejoined his crew, leaving you flustered yet utterly euphoric. Yes, Carlos Sainz had managed to spirit you away into an all-encompassing dream — one you never wanted to wake up from.
The sound of a nearby door opening brings you back to the present with a contented sigh. You let your eyes drift open again, blinking against the brilliant sunlight as a familiar figure emerges onto the terrace.
“There’s my hermosa,” Carlos greets you warmly, slipping off his cap to run a hand through his ridiculously perfect hair. The simple gesture makes your breath catch as always.
You feel a smile stretch across your face as he approaches. “Hi there, stranger. Taking a break?”
“Something like that,” he chuckles, dropping into the lounger beside you with a groan. “Just a quick respite from the crowd.”
Carlos turns toward you with poorly concealed mischief dancing in his eyes. “Though ... I may have also needed an excuse to see this beautiful sight again.”
You roll your eyes in exaggerated exasperation to hide your giddiness at his flattery. He’s been adorably smooth this entire trip. “Save your lines, Casanova. You already got me here, remember?”
“Ah, but a man can never compliment his lady enough,” Carlos objects smoothly, grasping your hand in his calloused one to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Starting with how radiant you look basking in the Australian sun, mi ángel. A lesser man would get jealous.”
You shake your head, even as tingles race across your skin from his gesture. “Is flattery how you butter up any pretty girl who catches your eye?”
“Just the especially gorgeous ones,” he winks unapologetically. “But there’s only one who’s made me want to be a hopeless romantic.”
With dizzying ease, he leverages himself across the narrow space between you, caging you in on all sides with his toned arms. Your breath catches at his sudden proximity, pulse quickening from the heated look in his eyes.
“Perhaps I should stop with pretty words ...” Carlos rumbles in that velvety accent, closing the remaining distance until you can feel the heat radiating from his body. “And use actions instead.”
His mouth captures yours in a slow, smoldering kiss that has you melting bonelessly against the plush cushions. Large hands splay across the dip of your waist, firm yet intoxicatingly gentle. You melt into the unhurried caress of his lips, addicted to the way he sets your entire body deliciously alight.
When you finally part, you’re flushed and breathless, gazing up dazedly at his twinkling eyes. “You’re ... terribly persuasive, Mr. Sainz,” you manage.
He rewards you with a wolfish grin and another toe-curling kiss. “Only for you, mi amor,” he growls against your lips, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his chest. “Only for you ...”
A tiny gasp of surprise parts your lips as Carlos suddenly freezes, mouth going taut. You tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze questioningly.
“What’s wrong?”
He drops his darkened eyes down toward his palm sheepishly. It’s then you notice the tiny trickle of red seeping from a paper cut across his skin.
“Oh no, it seems our ... passion got a bit too rough,” Carlos grins cheekily. “Gave myself a battle wound.”
Rolling your eyes, you gingerly take his hand to inspect the miniscule wound. Just a thin cut that was reopened, likely from reviewing telemetry packets between briefings.
“It’s nothing serious,” you chide. “Though I suppose I could play nurse for you one more time.”
He gives you a devilish look from under his inky lashes. “Please do, mi ángel. I’ll need your ... very special care.”
You level an unimpressed glare at him, slipping off the lounger toward the rooftop bathroom to grab the first aid kit inside. By the time you return, Carlos has the audacity to be sitting patiently with his lightly bleeding palm extended in offering. Like a king awaiting tribute from his loyal subjects.
“It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” you scoff, cracking open the kit and perching on the edge of his lounger. With the utmost care and tenderness, you gently apply antibacterial ointment and wrap the cut with an oversized adhesive bandage.
“There, all better, your Highness,” you announce with a solemn nod.
But rather than releasing your hand, Carlos envelops it fully in both of his. His warm eyes search yours impishly.
“Actually, hermosa ... there is one last thing that could help it heal even faster.”
You quirk a skeptical brow at him, already thoroughly endeared by whatever outrageous thing is about to come out of his mouth. “Oh? And what’s that?”
The corner of his lips twitches up in that rakish half-smirk you adore. “A magical, healing ... kiss.”
Of course. Of bloody course.
“You can’t be serious,” you laugh, trying in vain to tug your hand back. Carlos simply holds it fast, fervently earnest despite the devilish twinkle dancing in his eyes.
“Completely serious, mi amor! The power of a beautiful woman’s kiss has incredible healing properties.” He pulls your hand close. “Especially from an ángel like you ...”
Warmth blooms across your cheeks at his antics, head shaking in amusement. Even after weeks of witnessing Carlos’ particular brand of cheeky charisma up close, he can still catch you off-guard and leave you deliciously flustered.
“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” The reprimand lacks any bite as you can’t help but grin back at him, captivated as always.
His answering look is all playful innocence — one you know better than to trust for a single second. “Does that mean you won’t bless me with your magic?”
Brown eyes beg at you over your trapped knuckles, full lower lip jutting out in a pout far too enticing to resist. With a shaky laugh, you finally acquiesce and bend forward to press a slow, petal-soft kiss over the bandage.
A grin stretches across Carlos’ face once you pull back. “My hero!” He exclaims, catching your hand in both of his to nuzzle the inside of your wrist adoringly. “See, querida? Already I can feel the enchanted restorative properties working wonders.”
“You’re utterly shameless!” You let out another breathless laugh.
“Only because you make me crazy, mi ángel,” Carlos retorts with an exaggerated groan, tugging you closer until you half-cover his toned body.
You go easily, resting comfortably against the solid wall of his chest. Strong arms wrap around your waist, securing you in place as Carlos pillows his cheek atop your head with a contented sigh.
“You render me nonsensical and utterly bewitched. I’m powerless against your effortless magic.”
The words rumble through you in that low timbre you’ve become addicted to, spreading warmth from the crown of your head to the very tips of your toes. With a quiet hum of contentment, you tuck yourself tighter into his side and watch the swaying of the palms framed against the brilliant blue sky.
In this moment, the entire world seems to shrink away into insignificance — nothing but you and Carlos tangled in this serene haven apart from all space and time. Nothing but the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek, the cocooning circle of arms that sets you ablaze and soothes you in equal measure.
Just as you feel yourself being lulled into a state of blissful relaxation, Carlos presses a lingering kiss to your hair. His chest vibrates with quiet yet fervent words.
“Thank you, amor ... for giving me a chance to make you mine.”
Pure affection blooms golden in your chest at the reverent sincerity of his tone. You tilt your head up to find his warm brown eyes already trained on you. Filled with adoration yet still flickering with that insuppressible spark of mischief and zest you adore so much.
With an impulsive hand curling around the nape of his neck, you pull his mouth down toward yours. As you part, twin smiles linger on your swollen lips.
“And thank you,” you smile wryly. “For having an appendix that decided to take matters into its own hands so we could meet.”
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formuladoll · 8 months
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i’ve been thinking a lot about carlos with an innocence kink… would you be open to write something about that?
inocencia — c. sainz
nothing compares to the beauty in your innocent eyes expecting his next move.
cw: smut (innocence kink, inexperience, light manipulation)
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And he shows me, he knows me
Carlos did not let go of the door handle as he entered your room. He feared the scene unfolding on his bed would cause him to lose all sense of balance. The unmade bed matched your frustrated expression, slightly furrowed eyebrows and glassy eyes suddenly opening up in response to getting caught.
Your inexperienced body awkwardly straddled a pillow, underwear visibly misplaced though still covering your core. A thin tank top pressed against your chest, tracing with its softness your hardened nipples. Blown pupils consumed his dark eyes as he couldn’t take his sight off your corrupted figure.
''I was just playing around and it started to feel good down there." You explained with your head down as the door closed behind him. Strong footsteps got closer to the bed as you focused on the white crumpled object pressing against your pussy.
Silence reigned again as you could feel his presence right in front of you, an overpowering shade consuming your frame. His firm hands held your face with great delicacy, connecting his reassuring gaze with your lost one. “But it doesn’t feel nice anymore. I just feel— frustrated.” You confessed.
He pushed back a few hair strands, getting a steady grip on your hair and slightly pulling on it to make you look up at him. "I can make that little ache between your legs go, baby. It would feel so good, I promise."
You looked absolutely entranced by his proposal, almost admiring the way he handles you in such a sensitive state. ''Please make it go away, Carlos."
Absolute fucking music to his ears.
How could he deny his curious little girl an orgasm she had probably been chasing for hours? He would teach you how to take care of that needy cunt when he can’t be there to do it himself. Still holding you by the hair, Carlos brought you closer, lips about to be abused by his eager kissing. “I’m gonna show you how to make yourself orgasm, hermosa. But you have to make a promise too.”
You could already taste the satisfaction only he had been able to give you before. “Anything.” He smirked at your desperate response.
“Every single time you come, I’m gonna be the only thing in your dumb little head. Me fucking you stupid, baby. Promise me that and I’ll show you everything.” He didn’t miss the way your legs attempted to close, causing the pillow between your legs to press further against your clitoris.
“Fuck— I promise.” You almost moaned as expectation brewed inside you to unprecedented amounts. He immediately captured your lips again, his hand massaging your tits through your shirt. The room seemed to become hotter by the second as his wandering hand stopped right on top of your underwear, the mere touch of his fingers sending shivers down your spine.
“Quieta.” (Stay still.) Carlos instructed with determination as he looked into your eyes, his right hand feeling up the lace on the small piece of clothing. He pinched it in between his thumb and index finger, pulling the fabric upwards into your most sensitive spot. You screamed into the kiss as he played with your pussy, pulling from your underwear and moving it side to side.
A numbing sensation overtook your abdomen as he finally pushes the pair of panties to the side, stroking your folds with his fingers. He brought your own hand previously tangled into his hair down to your center, guiding it towards your wet hole. “Fuck yourself for me, preciosa.”
The sensation of your fingers loosening up your tight pussy was underwhelming, absolutely nothing compared to the girth his cock molded you for. Even as you curled your fingers in search of your release, a desperate tear ran down your cheek— you needed him to make you feel like only he can.
“Are your tiny fingers not enough, baby?” He mocked as he swiftly took over, pushing your hand away as he replaced it with his own. Thick fingers got so deep into you that your whole body rocked with his repetitive motions, his chest supporting your weight as you felt like passing out. “I can feel you tightening on my fingers, amor— just imagine how much better that would feel on my cock.”
Carlos felt your whole body finally collapse against his, eyes unable to open due to the climax controlling your every sense. The bed was absolutely soaked as the relentless speed of his fingers had you squirt for the first time ever. “I tried to teach you but you’re just too perfect not to fuck you myself. No one will ever make you feel as good as I do, hermosa.”
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MASTERLIST
⋆。‧˚ʚ ❀ ɞ˚‧。⋆
Carlos Sainz
a sexy spaniard who drives the sexiest red car
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CS55E1
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multiversesweets · 10 months
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SCANDALOUS RANDOM SNIPPETS
characters: cl, ln, cs, lh, gr, ls, dr etc.
social media au, from this series 💖
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