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somejazzinthemorning · 9 months

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singapore 23

carlos sainz x reader; [warnings: unprotected sex because why not and yeah, that's just it. it's late and i didn't have time to reread this a lot of times (so it has typos, probably) and no one read this yet so it could not be good, ok?] word count: 1.5K

your boyfriend just won the singapore grand prix.

i did a sad one for spa, it's only fair i do a spicy one for Singapore

"you did great"

carlos’ hands are cupping your cheeks. lips hovering over yours. he’s still panting. you feel his pulse on his digits. still fast. so fucking fast.

"i know"

"you stink"

he chuckles, lips travelling down your jawline, the tip of his nose touching your cheek as he does so. the sweet sound reaches your ears. it’s rich and full, a bit husky.

"i know"

this time, he speaks deeper, like your minds are in sync and he can’t hear your thoughts. you run your hands through his hair, damped in champagne and sweat. you are unaware of what that mixture is doing to you. you only notice it when you feel the flame running through your veins. pride, desire and lust run hand in hand, intoxicating your senses.

perhaps he can hear how fast your heart beats because as he locks his gaze with yours, he simply smirks. you don’t even need to say anything or act on your will.

"cariño, we don't have much time"

no.

“we’ll have just enough time”

you utter. he pulls you closer, impatient and needy and you kiss him deeply. and god. god. it tasted like love itself. the sweet nectar of victory. divine and intoxicating, just like him. and it feels like him. the fizz of the champagne is now getting to your tongue, enlightening everything you were gushing inside. you keep picturing him on the podium. his portrait. the epitome of pride and strength. the image burned into your thoughts. you unzip his suit, until the zipper is hanging down and you can act on getting what you want.

it doesn’t take much until you’re being pressed against the wall. you hiss.

“love, i’ll need you to be really silent”

there is no roof. between you and the world, there’s just a barrier of a few walls and a door you’re not even sure it’s locked. and against all instincts, that makes you want it more. his lips are on your neck, and your hands are roaming his back, along his muscular back, feeling the bulges and contours of his body beneath the nomex. you want to rip it off.

"silent, okay, baby?"

he repeats. each time he speaks, his voice gets lower.

"yes"

his muscles taut under your digits as you explore the fabric in search of the hem. with a desperate tug, you pull it up, revealing his chest. he’s glistening under the lights. a heady mix of sweat. and champagne. and the essence of triumph. that’s all in your mind—how victory drips like gold all over his chest.

god. you’re aching. you need him.

"you looked so good on the podium"

"yeah?"

his hands are pulling your dress up, keeping it around your waist. his lips are sucking on your collarbones and you’re sure he’s going to leave a mark there.

“hmhm”

you bite your lips as he pulls on the lacy fabric of our panties, ever so slightly, just enough to create the right amount of pressure. he’s adoring you. eyes deep and dark trailing your features as he teases you.

“you looked beautiful from there, too. but not as beautiful as you are now”

you moan as you feel his teeth on your shoulder, hands moving lower down, now touching you. you’re wet and you hadn’t realized how much. the bulge in his race suit is hard to ignore. it grows harder against your tight. he wants it as much as you do.

“i’m so proud of you. i love you”

you breathe out.

and then there’s the sound of velcro ripping apart, and the sensation of his fingers tracing an electric path down over your wet panties. a single tug later, he’s inside you—he thrusts himself inside you in one sudden motion. and you have to bite your lip to contain a shuddering moan that escapes your lips anyway. he acts with an animalistic intensity, with the remaining adrenaline in his blood. there's no barrier, there shouldn't be, but if there were, you're not sure you would care. because the feeling of him inside you, the feeling of his warmth, the feeling of his whole body crashing against yours, it’s almost like it's almost like your souls intertwine in perfect harmony—like you're finally coming home.

“say it again”

“i love you. i’m proud of you”

it's merciless, it's rough. it's fucking perfect.

his touch burns you. his mouth leaves a trail of fire wherever he kisses and sucks and licks. he moves his fingers on your clit and your head falls back; your eyes close. you don't need to see him to know he's there. everywhere he touches makes you ache for more.

you're going to explode. it's so good it hurts, so intense it's almost unbearable. and he knows it. and he’s basking on it. he could come just from looking at you. you don't have to say a word for him to understand.

"i love seeing you like this"

he says. you part your lips, a soft moan escaping them. carlos takes his hands from between your legs and pushes two fingers into your mouth. your tongue touches the ridges and curves of his fingers and you can taste yourself in them.

on the other side of the wall, life keeps happening. it’s loud and noisy. the laughter and conversations bounce off of the walls of the hallway, but it sounds distant to you. you hope you’re not making yourself heard, too.

he picks you up and carries you to the massage table in the room. you close your eyes as he sets you down on the edge of the table, your breathing heavy and uneven; you feel like you’re floating above the world.

he looks down at you. some strands of hair falling over his forehead, small droplets of what could be sweat or water or champagne dripping down his temples. he’s divine. chiselled to glory.

you look down, your hands reaching for him. and you see him again standing tall on the podium. pride and vanity eating away at your mind and decorum. he's god. your god. you could pray to him, every day, any day.

"you looked like a god"

you say, gaze locked with his. your hand is around him, sliding up and down as you speak. you can feel it pulsating against your palm. your juices and pre-cump clamping down around him. carlos brings his hand to the back of your neck, wrapping your hair in his hand and holding it as he pulls you against his mouth.

“again”

he orders, against your lips.

“you looked like a god."

there's a pause. a brief moment of silence until you speak again.

"fuck me like one”

he doesn’t need more of an invitation. he positions himself at your entrance and thrusts himself inside you in one fierce motion. your lips part and you let out a moan as he pulls out and slams back in. your muscles clench around him, embracing the feeling, taking it all in.

you moan against his mouth, your hands holding onto him, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. he’s holding your tights, keeping your legs open as he moves faster, deeper.

your hands are grabbing the edge of the table, drowning in the foam and you're forcing your mouth closed. but you don't need words to express how good you feel. he can read you like a map. you exhale sharply, your own hand now over your mouth trying to muffle the noises. he holds you tighter, driving himself deeper inside you. he’s a painfully good execution of perfect.

it feels so fucking good. you can't control yourself.

he's breathing hard, grunting with every thrust, his chest expanding with every breath. you can hear the sounds of your bodies colliding underneath you. he's not even trying to be quiet about it anymore.

"ah-ah, love, don't make that face. i know you want to come. you know how much i want you to come. but hold on, baby, hold on."

your heart is beating faster. you're so close now. his hand is on your clit again, rubbing it in quick circles, and you're so close that the sound of laughter outside the door sounds like a muffle. you're going to come. you're going to fucking come. he growls and his pace quickens. and your body is trembling with every thrust. your gaze is focused on his face, and he knows how damn hard you’re holding to his commands.

"i'm going to break you, won't i?"

you nod repeatedly, eyes wide, biting on your lip. your mind is blank. he leans in and kisses you deeply, his hands pulling your hair harder, sliding in and out of you. you gasp against his lips, your fingers clinging to his shoulders and upper back; you want to bury your head in the crook of his neck, but his gaze keeps you hostage.

and looking into his eyes and facing heaven and hell at the same time.

he owns you in a way you can't even explain. it's like a rope has been thrown around you and you're being pulled deeply towards him and you know you’re incapable of leaving. and you know he will never leave either.

"go ahead, baby. i won't be greedy. i already came first once today"

he plunges deeper into you, banging against your g-spot. you can feel your lips quiver, your back arching. and you know you can’t cry out his name. you feel yourself drown, and then being brought back to the surface. there's a flare. and then the crescendo. and you’re breaking in front of him. and he holds you. still fucking you. cherishing you.

he’s so warm you can feel the heat of his touch through the fabric of the dress you’re still wearing. you bury your head in the crook of his neck, moaning and crying against his skin, and within seconds he pushes himself deeper inside you, groaning as he comes.

"god, i love you. i love you, i love you.”

he says, still holding you. you’re panting, shaking, drunk on his scent and the love only he can make you feel. carlos kisses your head and caresses your hair. slowly, you look up to him.

“i'm so proud of you. i love you"

as always, all feedback is appreciated. hope you enjoyed it! love you all.

#carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #f1 fanfic #singapore gp 2023 #singapore gp

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cutielando · 22 days

Note

can you please do a carlos friends to lovers? no smut, i can’t find carlos fluff. reader attends all the races & carlos is secretly obsessed with her & lando helps set them up?

a/n: had a lot of fun writing this one!!

♡♡♡♡♡

You and Carlos had known each other since you were little children. Growing up in Madrid next to the Spaniard had been the highlight of your entire childhood.

Carlos had always made sure he had time for you, even between his karting races and training, he never felt to make sure you knew he didn’t forget about you, that you were still his best friend and no distance could change that.

Your friendship continued well into your adulthood, well into his career all the way from karting to Formula 1. Albeit, due to the fact that you also had a stable job back home in Madrid and were building your career, you guys saw each other less and less. Settling for phone calls, texts and FaceTimes, you still felt like something was missing.

You missed all the times that you would hang out together on the balcony of your home, drinking wine and talking about anything and everything. The laughter booming in the air, reverberating against your chest, the gentle lingering touches shared between you that you both ignored, knowing it was for the best.

It wasn’t until Carlos signed with Ferrari that things changed.

He had called you as soon as he had got out of the meeting with the team, excitedly telling you about everything that he was promised, what the next season would look like for him after he departed with McLaren; he didn’t miss a single detail.

Yapping about how excited he was for the future, but also how sad it would be for him to not be teammates with Lando anymore. But the sentence that he kept repeating every time you two would talk broke your heart every time: “I wish you were here to experience this with me”

It broke you every time he would say it, the same longing that he felt amplified 100 times over for you. You loved him, more than you sometimes cared to admit, and certainly more than you would ever have the guts to tell him. You had loved him for a while now, but loving him from the shadows and distance was taking its toll on you.

Which is why you all but jumped at the opportunity he offered you to go along with him, attend the races and celebrate with him. He had claimed that he couldn’t bear thinking about the future if you wouldn’t be there, next to him, cheering him on and comforting him whenever needed.

He needed your stability and comfort, he needed to feel you there with him, no longer settling for phone calls while being on opposite sides of the world.

It wasn’t fair, and he wanted to change that.

And so, you packed your bags, smoothed things over at your job and got on the plane, and met him in Singapore. It wasn’t the best race to choose from for your first, the heat and humidity in the air hitting you like a ton of bricks as soon as you had stepped foot out of the airport.

But seeing him waiting for you, leaning against the side of his car, it made everything worth it. He hadn’t even seen you coming before you completely blindsided him and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his tall frame. You both sighed in relief, the feeling of each other finally back together not being able to be compared with anything else.

“I can’t believe I’m really here” you had blurted out, suddenly afraid that it was all just a dream and you would wake up soon enough.

But hearing him chuckle, feeling his chest booming with laughter, you knew it was real. He was there, right in front of you, hugging you like his life depended on him. And for him, it did. He had spent so much time away from you, being deprived of your presence for longer than he would have liked. And now, when he had you right in his arms after so long, he finally felt like himself again, like he had just found the missing piece of his puzzle.

You spent the night catching up, even though you had been talking on the phone the entire time you had been deprived of each other, he still needed a night of talking to you, drinking wine and forgetting about everything else in his life besides you right in front of him.

Entering the paddock had felt more exhilarating than you would have ever imagined. The roaring of the engines and the teams preparing for the races, the screaming of the fans and every interviewer trying to get a word with the drivers. It felt as exhilarating as it felt absolutely nerve-wrecking.

“Are you okay?” Carlos asked you once you had made it to the garage.

You nodded, the smile seemingly not wanting to leave your lips. “I’m good, this is exciting” he smiled at that, nodding along.

He left you alone for a while, going over to speak to his race engineer before the race. You had stayed in place, only admiring the garage you had seen so many times on TV, now standing right in the middle of it.

When he came back, you noticed he had brought Lando with him.

“Y/N, you remember the Lando I told you about. Lando, this is my best friend, Y/N” Carlos introduced the two of you, coming to stand by your side.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve heard many great things about you from Carlos” you said, smiling at the younger driver who shook your hand.

Lando greeted you back, eyeing the way Carlos was standing next to you and looking at you while you and Lando spoke.

You and Lando clicked right away, you now understood why Carlos loved the Brit and spoke so highly of him. You found yourselves a new hobby by poking fun at Carlos, who seemingly internally regretted introducing you to each other.

As the time to get in the car grew nearer, Lando bid his goodbyes and returned to his garage, only one thought in his mind.

I need to get Y/N and Carlos together by the end of the weekend.

♡♡♡♡♡

Carlos didn’t know who to thank first for winning the Singapore GP. Should he thank God for finally giving him what he had wanted ever since the start of the season? Should he thank the team for finally managing to beat Red Bull and win? No. He didn’t do any of that first.

He went to you.

He found you in the sea of mechanics and family members that had run out at the barriers, ready to welcome the new winner into their arms. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else apart from you.

Scooping you up in his arms, his only focus was on you and the feeling of you in his embrace. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that you were there with him, witnessing this win that the whole team had worked so hard for. The entire season had culminated into this win, and you were there to witness it.

“I’m so proud of you” you whispered once he had lowered you to the ground, his arms still tightly holding onto your arms.

He mumbled something incoherently in your shoulder, but you paid it no mind. You could only focus on him, the feeling of him slumping and relaxing against your body like he always did.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando had been looking at you two ever since he got out of his car, smiling mischievously under his helmet while walking towards the two of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you might as well stop torturing yourselves and just kiss already” he said, making you and Carlos pulled away from each other.

Before either of you could reply, he turned around and left, walking over to celebrate with his team.

Turning around to face each other, not a word was spoken between the two of you, but your eyes were telling a whole different story. You didn’t even think as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, so many years up buried and pent-up feelings finally being free.

The entire team cheered once they noticed what was happening, but you and Carlos didn’t hear anyone else around you. It was just the two of you in that moment, in your own little bubble.

“We should have done this years ago” he mumbled against your lips, making you laugh.

“Yes, we should have”

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