#Carlos sainz jr fanfic

[eccentricwritingbaby]

baby finn series, house divided

dad!lando norris x mom!wife!reader

series list - bedtime stories - sneaking onto stream - babysitting and date nights

summary - yours and lando’s little boy has decided to become a fan of a different team, leading lando into a little spiral

masterlist

-

finn norris, yours and landos bubbly pride and joy, was turning three this sunday - subjecting his birthday to a race day. finn had obviously grown up along the track with his dad and all his colleagues and friends which led him to adore and fall in love with the sport that is formula one - scaring the living daylights out of you in his passionate displays of love for the dangerous activity at such a young age. not only was finn bouncing off the walls when lando informed him of where his birthday would be held, he was jumping, shaking and yelling with excitement as the race track was his favorite place on earth. 

“finn, baby, calm down,” you chuckled while giving lando a glance. you both were sat on the couch with your son in front of you in order to tell him the wonderful news. now your adorable little almost three year old was racing around screaming with joy.

lando let out a laugh as well and reached for his son, “if you’re excited about spending your birthday on the track you’ll also be very excited about my other surprise for you,” finn looked up at his father with those same crystal blue eyes and whispered as if it was to himself, “anotha’ supwise?” lando and you share another small laugh at his wonder as he proceeds to get your son his gift. you take this moment to sweep up your still giggly son into your lap and give him a few quick kisses to the top of his head. those delicious baby laughs were all you heard as you felt his face snuggle further into your arms. lando returns as swiftly as he left, yet this time he appears with a large box in his arms. your boy wiggles in your hold until you release him to crawl towards his father. once settled on your husband's lap, lando begins to aid him in opening the bright papaya colored box, leading to your understanding of the exact contents in seconds. lando was always getting sent items from fans that were miniature, or receiving pint-sized merch from mclaren all for his mini me which both of you just doted over. once the wrapping paper and tissue paper were thrown enough around your living room, finn finally poked his head into the box and came out with a frown.

“you don’t like it, bud?” lando softly questions while his eyebrows begin to furrow. “‘s not wed, dada,” your son responds as he eyes his father, confusion listed on all of your faces.

“baby, why would you want your outfit to be red for your birthday? don’t you want to cheer on daddy?” you attempt to understand the little boy by posing the questions but he simply just whips his head around to you even more confused.

“i cheer dada in wed!” his eyes begin to gloss over and you can already feel a temper tantrum about to stir, yet one look over to lando and you understand that both your boys may need a minute to cool down.

“okay finn, why don’t you pick out what you want to bring on the trip? i’ll be right in to help baby,” you reply cautiously as you lift him out of lando’s arms, around the forgotten papaya box, and in the direction of his room.

“otay, momma!” finn shouts as his little legs attempt to quickly take him into his room down the hall. once the tiny steps disappear, you turn to look at your other baby.lando sits on the couch with a blank stare as his hands ring together in front of him.

“he wants to support ferrari, love. not his own father,” lando’s head falls as he speaks and you land on the couch cushion next to him, beginning to run your hand up and down his back. even though finn was born while you both were young and unsure of how to raise a child together, since you were children yourselves, lando was consistently one of the best fathers you had seen. he let the third driver take his seat for a month and a half in order to be a dedicated father and bond accordingly with your son. he doted over you and your needs no matter what the cost or occasion. and overall he cherished approval, whether it be in the bedroom, the track, or parenthood. lando is confident, yes, but he will always want the confirmation that he is doing his best, and that his best is enough - which it is always more than. therefore, you could tell that his son not wanting to support his team, and by partisan him, has led him to conclude that he is not a good racer, role model, or father - and you needed to stop those lies from invading his head.

“lando, he’s two - almost three, he probably just likes the color and wants to wear it,” you reply to his heart heavy confession.

“no he wants to support his uncle carlos, who has been winning and been on all the podiums - oh except for when he was in the hospital having a surgery,” the ending of his small reply held a bitter tone which you knew was not jealousy. lando and carlos are especially close, he is beyond happy and proud of his friend who he knows deserves his winnings, but you could understand the envy appearing when his son is preferring him over his dad.

“lando, it doesn’t matter what team he wants to support, that is your son. and he worships the ground you walk on. trust me. i am with him all the time,” you continue with a chuckle and a funnier tone as you begin to recite the words your son always speaks to you, “it’s always, ‘when’s dada coming home?’ ‘i want dada to tuck me into bed’ ‘can i drive like dada when im older’ and so on. lando, he loves you - you know that. don’t make this into a bigger deal than it needs to be. he is three, his intentions are pure,” as you end your speech, lando begins to raise his head looking into your eyes.

“i know, love. it just sucks i guess,” he lets out a quick sigh along with a shrug and meets your eyes again, “you’re still wearing papaya, right?” slight anxiety in his higher pitched question and you begin to laugh, “yes, love, i will always be in your color,” you reply as he hums and leans into your embrace, reaching down to plant a sweet kiss to your lips. just as you pull apart you can hear the quick little pitter patter of feet running down the hallway your little boy emits, trailing behind him is his bluey mini suitcase overflowing with toys and games.

“i all pack!” he squeals in excitement as he races over to you and your husband. lando drops down onto your floor, finn running right into his embrace, followed by a fit of giggles.

“let’s see what you packed, buddy,” your husband replies as he ruffles around finns baby curls. finn then claps a bit until he’s situated on the floor in front of the suitcase. he begins pulling out his items and reciting them to both of you and you respond in a chorus of “ooh’s” and “aah’s”. 

race day   -

as lando struts down the makeshift runway that is the entrance to the paddock, you follow behind a little further as to not draw too much attention to your little son. even though finn had grown up around the paddock, both lando and you are still not fully comfortable with the cameras and attention specifically around your son. therefore, any precaution - even the slightest - to not have him overly immersed in the media you both will take. lando is simply sporting his mclaren team gear, you in a light and well-fit sundress that lando emphasized in the morning you look ‘absolutely ravishing, my darling” and your birthday boy, well, he has arrived in a bright red ‘sainz55’ ferrari shirt as well as a bright and wide smile - something your husband couldn’t even be mad at if he tried, as your son’s smile that bright on his birthday was worth any sort of bruise to the ego. once well inside the paddock, finn begins to wiggle and squirm in your arms wanting to be let down which could only mean one thing.

“UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS! UNCLE LOS!” he begins to cry as you put him on the ground and he takes off towards him.

“FINN! SLOW DOWN!” your husband cries after him as he picks up a jogging pace after his overenthused son. carlos’ head whips around at the voice of his favorite little man as he begins to crouch down and brace for impact with his arms held wide. the little ball of red soon collides with his newfound favorite driver and the two begin to laugh as they hold each other. once you and lando catch up to the pair you can hear the adorable conversation at play.

“i wear wed fo’ you, uncle los!” finn sings happily while prancing around in front of carlos. the spanish driver, still crouched at your son's level, chuckles in admiration as he stares at the boy in front of him, “i think red is your color, pequeño,”

“it is! it is!” finn replies once again jumping around in full excitement.

“i also think it is somebody’s birthday,” carlos says holding a sly grin while staring at the little lando in front of him.

“ME! it’s mine!” your boy continues to jump.

“i think special birthday boys get to sit in their favorite uncles car?” carlos feigns innocence in the question as he looks at lando who holds a grin on his face. finn looks at his father for permission with a slight doe-eyed expression and lando gives him a simple nod before finn and carlos quickly disappear to the ferrari garage.

“i am very proud of you, love. you’ve got a good brave face,” you say quietly to your husband as he reaches down to pull you into a kiss.

“you know why i’m smiling, baby?” lando doesn’t wait for you to answer the rhetorical, “because we just gained a free babysitter for about an hour,” he kisses you again, this time with more urgency as he continues, dropping an octave, “and i’ve got an empty drivers room just waiting for us,” one more kiss and he’s already pulling you into the direction of the mclaren garage with you jogging quickly behind him in a fit of giggles. 

[norrisleclercf1]

For Mafia!Carlos, the “you came” “You called” trend where she calls him as a last resort, not really knowing what to expect from her new husband and him being all like “I would die for you, I thought you knew?”

A/N: I'm a sucker for this trope but also for the overprotective arranged husband whose secretly always been in love with reader, and who touched you too so yep yep loving this

He was the last person you wanted to call, but right now sitting inside the police station with a busted lip and eyebrow, your jeans shredded at your knees, and shirt with blood, with purse, phone, and your wedding and engagement ring completely gone.

You couldn't call your father, he sold you to your husband, couldn't call your mother she was a useless shell of herself. No siblings to call, and no friends as they'd tell him anyways. "Ma'am, do you want to call someone?" This kid of an officer sits down next to you, hanging you an ice pack. "Can you call my husband?" You whisper, tasting iron from when you spoke. "Okay, what's his name?" The officer was kind, but young.

"Carlos Sainz," The color in the poor officer face drains hearing that and gives you a wobbly smile. "I know, I know, it'll be okay," You pat the boy's arm and he stands going right to the phone and picking it up, dialing the number. You don't listen but you can see the blood draining his entire body before he hangs up and sits down next to you.

"Here," You place the blanket on his lap and he smiles, the two of you making small talk. "Is he coming?" A part of you fully believing he didn't care one bit about you being here. You don't get an answer as the police station door swings open and men swarm the place. The young boy moves the blanket onto your lap and stands as Carlos storms in.

He was wearing an all black suit and stops seeing the officer and then seeing you. "Why the fuck aren't there medics here?" "Carlos, stop, I just want to go home." He stops, and sighs running his fingers through his hair. "Okay, okay mi corazón." He whispers and moves to your side and tries to control his rage seeing the dried blood all over you. "I fought," He looks down at you, as you wrap your arms around his waist, standing on wobbly legs.

"What, baby?" "I fought them, that's why I'm hurt. They wouldn't have hit me had I just given them, everything, but the rings..." Looking down at your bruised fingers. Carlos scuffs, "I don't care about the rings, mi corazón, I care about you. Let's go home and get you cleaned up.

"I didn't think you'd come," You whisper taking small steps as they had kicked you in the ribs. "Of course, I came, you called. We'll not really but you know what I mean," You giggle, stopping your smile when you feel fresh blood pool in your mouth.

"Thank you, Dad would've.....nevermind." Carlos hums and moves you to the back of the car and helps you in, before joining you in the back. "Carlos?" You hated to ask him this, but right now you needed comfort. "What is it, love?" Wiping the blood away you look at your husband. "Can, can you hold me? And stay with me tonight?" Carlos's eyes grow wide, but he quickly schools his face and nods.

Unbuckling you, he pulls you into his lap, where you rest your head on his shoulder, hiding your face in his neck. Carlos sighs, holding you softly yet, securely as he refused to let anyone else but him touch you.

[juleswrites223]

⊹ More than friends? ⊹

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader

Context: Fans begin to notice how much Carlos spends his time with a certain girl which lead them to believe they may be more than friends.

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y/n_loversz MOTHER IS POSTING AGAIN

landonorris can I come visit?

yourusername no.

carlossainz55 pls design our fireproofs 🙏🙏

charlesleclerc ^^^^

yourusername let’s see 👀

lovingwags ❤️❤️

Yn-fan mother is for the girls only✋

User still find it so weird that she spent the break w Carlos AND his family

F1_goss girl what’s weird about it? She’s his friend and Lando was also there

carlossainz55

carlossainz55 my teaching paid off, she finally got a hole in one

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carlossainzofficial vamos!!

reyesvdec ❤️❤️

landonorris you taught me too but how am I worse than her

yourusername skill issue 🤷‍♀️

carlossainz55 that’s all you muppet

landonorris mean, both of you

[cutielando]

holidays ~ carlos sainz

Summary: The summer break is finally here, the perfect time for you and Carlos to go on a much-needed holiday together.

Words: 1.1k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

After an agonizing first half of the season, the summer break had officially started, meaning you and Carlos finally had time to relax.

You loved accompanying Carlos to his races, you marveled in seeing him do what he loved. But, in all fairness, it was really tiring.

Constantly changing time zones, not having time to get home before you would have to fly all the way to the other side of the world, constantly being on the move and living out of your suitcases. It tired you out, even though you loved it.

Now, with the summer break officially here, you got to spend one whole month relaxing with your boyfriend in the beautiful Spain, getting some much needed rest before the season would pick up again.

After much consideration, you both decided that going home to Spain for the break was the best solution. You were home, you could have your fun, go to the beach seeing as it was very close to your house, it was the perfect destination.

"Mi amor, are you ready to go?" Carlos asked as he packed the last of your beach bag, ready for an entire day of soaking up the sun and relaxing with you.

"Yes, I'm coming!"

You scrambled to get your phone and your hat before bouncing downstairs where Carlos was waiting for you.

When he laid his eyes on you, his brain started malfunctioning. You were gorgeous in your brand new red bikini, one you had purchased specifically for the break.

"You look amazing, mi amor" he said once he finally regained his composure, wrapping his arms around your waist and bringing you closer.

"Thank you, love" you pecked his nose quickly before pulling away from the embrace.

The two of you made the quick drive to the beach, deciding to set up in a more secluded part of the beach, where hopefully you could sit and sunbathe in silence for a little while.

Carlos immediately jumped into the water as soon as he finished setting up your umbrella, just like a dog would, which made you laugh.

You started applying some sunscreen on your body to make sure you wouldn't get a sunburn. When Carlos finally emerged from the water half an hour later, you frowned when you saw his skin already beginning to turn red under the sun.

"Amor, come here so I can put some protection on you" you called out, shivering when the cold droplets of water from Carlos' hair hit your skin.

Seeing your shiver, he starts ruffling his hair so more water could get on your hot skin, which made you squeal.

"I will hit you if you do that one more time" you said, trying to act stern but the smile threatening to appear on your lips was saying something else.

"We both know you would feel bad" he said, finally taking a seat in front of you in the sand with his back facing you.

"Don't tempt me, your trainer and Fred will have my head if they see bruises on you" you joked while starting to apply a generous amount of sunscreen on his red skin.

"Thank God for Ferrari" Carlos turned his head and winked at you, making you roll your eyes but smile.

Being there with Carlos was everything you could have asked for. Everyone knew how tough the season had gone up to the summer break, how much both Carlos and Charles had been struggling with the car and getting it to perform at its best. The car, plus the countless strategy fails that the Ferrari engineering team kept making, the losses started pilling up and they were starting to take a toll on your boyfriend.

You knew how talented, driven and passionate he was about his job. How much he loved racing and how close he came to winning a race, only for it to be completely ruined by his team. He had started doubting himself, something you never wanted him to start doing.

That was primarily the reason why you suggested you go on holiday alone, just the two of you, for the first 2 weeks of the break. No phones, no internet, nobody around to put further stress on Carlos or you. Completely detaching yourselves from your hectic lives, even if it was just temporary.

"What are you thinking about?" Carlos' voice snapped you out of your thoughts, not having realized you had zoned out for a couple of minutes.

"Nothing important, just stuff" you shrugged it off, not wanting to bring up the subject while the atmosphere was so serene.

"I know you're lying. Tell me, what's got you so deep in thought?" he scooted closer to you and brought his hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb against your skin gingerly.

Looking into his deep brown eyes, you knew you never had to be ashamed to tell him what was on your mind. He would always listen to you, no matted what it was.

"I'm just thinking about you" he nodded, signaling for you to continue. "It's just, this season has been so hard for you and I'm just worried that nothing is going to change after the break and you'll be struggling and stressing yourself out and exhausting yourself" you admitted.

Carlos knew you had been worried about him, hell, he was worried about himself. He had expected much more from his team, but after continuously being let down, he didn't know what to think or do anymore. He didn't know where to put his trust.

"Amor, look at me" he took your face in his hands, holding it gently. "You don't have to worry about me. We both know that there is no consistency in this sport, we will have bad times and we will have good times. We've hit a rough patch, and yes, I have been stressing myself. But that is simply because I know we can do better and I'm trying to make sure we give it our best to be on top after the break" he explained.

"But you're wearing yourself out. This isn't healthy for you" you said, worry creasing your face.

He leaned in and kissed your forehead, making you close your eyes and enjoy the feeling f=of his soft lips against your skin.

"Please, stop worrying. I'm going to be fine, we just have to get through this together" you looked at him and eventually nodded.

Even though you were still worried deep within, you knew that you had to trust Carlos. Until anything further, you were going to enjoy the free time and soak up the sun with your boyfriend, away from all stress and just basking in your love for one another.

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[silverstonesainz-archive]

home

─── "you're home" "i'm home."

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

It’s nearly midnight when Carlos gets home. Most of the lights are off, save one lamp in the living room, and the light over the kitchen island where dinner is waiting for him. It’s quiet, only the sound of his own footsteps echoing throughout the house. He drops his bags by the couch, trudging into the next room to see what was wrapped so nicely on the counter. 

A blue post-it on the wrap over the food, your elegant writing in black ink. I’m so gnocchi to have you. He can’t help the smile on his lips, an amused breath through his nose at the cheesy pun. He plucks the note from its place, slipping it into his back pocket. It’s gnocchi with tomatoes, spinach, and red sauce– arguably one of his favorites that you make. He leans against the counter, undoing the clear wrap before diving into his meal. It’s the little things you do for him to welcome him home, even if you were sound asleep in the room down the hall. Like leaving the lights on, dinner, and undoubtedly the covers half pulled back. It’s the little things that help him feel a little better about the weekend behind him.

Carlos washes the dishes quietly, placing them carefully into the dishwasher before finally making his way to the bedroom. His fingers grip the door knob, slowly turning and opening the door. It creaks, it always creaks. He cringes at the sound, taking a mental note to fix it like he promised all those months ago. You don’t stir at the sound, but Piñon does. The dog lifts his head from his place at the foot of the bed, tilted ever so slightly as he watches Carlos try to close the door without making a sound. He tiptoes to the bathroom, shutting the door before flicking on the lights. 

His reflection stares at him, tired and begging for refuge in the covers and you. But he hops into the shower first, because as much as you love him, you hate the smell of the airplane even more. He pulls the little post-it from his pocket, sticking it onto the counter before dropping his clothes into the hamper and stepping into the shower. Hot water beats down on his aching muscles, sliding down the expanse of his back. He picks up his body wash, scrubbing every inch of himself before he rinses away the suds and steps out. It’s a quick night routine– brush his teeth and a bit of moisturizer that you insist he use. Oh and floss, always floss.

 It’ll keep your skin from drying out since you fly so much. He smiles at the memory of you sliding the bottle to him one morning, waiting expectantly for him to rub it into his skin. He’s on his second bottle now. 

Carlos picks up the note before he shuts off the bathroom lights and makes his way back into the bedroom. You’re still asleep, chest rising softly and hair sprawled across your face. Your head is turned away from him, left arm outstretched ever so slightly. And just as he had expected, the covers are half pulled back on his side of the bed, a warm welcome waiting for him. He only stares for a moment longer, his heart expanding in his chest at the sight of you. Sometimes he doesn’t think it’s true, that you’re but a figment of his imagination. But you’re not, and he wakes every day, grateful that you’re right there with him. He holds his breath, watching as you move deeper in the covers, completely unaware of how he looks upon you with so much love.

He doesn’t climb into bed quite yet, instead hovering over his nightstand as he opens a drawer and pulls out an old box that used to hold one of his watches. He lifts the cover, slipping in the blue post-it on top of a pile of sweet love notes you left him throughout your relationship. It’s his little secret, he’ll show you his collection one day maybe. When he’s put it back in its place, he finally slides into bed. He pulls the covers over his body before his arm slings over your torso to pull you against him. 

It’s almost instinctual the way you turn in his hold, face immediately nuzzling into his chest and inhaling deeply. He stifles a chuckle, instead holding you tighter against him. His fingers move into your hair, massaging your scalp as you blow warm air out of your nose against his bare chest. He feels a trace of your smile against his skin, the soft pucker of your lips as you press a tired kiss at the top of his chest. It’s your little habit, your special greeting when you see him after being apart for some time. Whether one hour or one week, it’s always the same– your nose pressing into his chest, usually after a kiss to his lips. 

“You’re home.” your voice scratches your throat, thick with sleep and relief. He feels your body relax against him, breathing slow as you slip back to sleep. 

Carlos presses a kiss against the top of your head, lips lingering to leave a bit more love over you. “I’m home.”

NOTE: clearly, i'm down bad. anyways ive been rotting away on this and i hope you like it. as always, feedback is always appreciated.

wanna be notified for new releases?

[httpsserene]

𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟐 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. smut. wolf shifter au. werewolves. no abo dynamics. outdoor sex. scent kink. vaginal sex. fingering. possessive behavior. predator/prey kink. tummy bulge. breeding kink. knotting (but not really). mention of heat/rut cycles. no protection. carlos’ filthy mouth. author may have cooked a little too hard 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: peek-a-boo • red velvet

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: fair warning this is the most foul thing i’ve written ever. like, i thought the first upload was unsettling, but this is terrifying in comparison. i think i’m getting better tho, low key. no, this was not an excuse to write a breeding kink 😒. this was an excuse to spread my personal feeling that i think carlos sainz jr is a massive freak, and i will take no criticism on that 😩. but i do apologize for his foul ass mouth at the end. imma try and get these out quicker because i realized that if i’m releasing one fic every week, i will not be finishing this b4 the end of the month. there unfortunately will be no part two to this, it’s a standalone, i got so many things to write now, im sorry :( i hope you all enjoy it (i did an embarrassing amount of research for this aka twilight wiki), and thank you for all the support !!!

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thank you to my beta readers @saintslewis and @my-ylenia ! i appreciate y'alls quick feedback :)

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

have the link to my general masterlist, and my f1 kinktober masterlist ! and send me a private message if you'd like to be added to the beta reader waitlist for this special!

carlos is not a werewolf. carlos is a born wolf; he comes from a long familial line of shifters. while he and his wolf share a brain, carlos is in control one-hundred percent of the time. he can shift into a wolf at will and maintains awareness as the wolf. however, during the full moon, it’s extremely difficult for shifters to resist the call and refrain from transforming. werewolves, on the other hand, are created by a curse or from being bitten. they are forced to change into a beast every full moon, thirsting for blood and carnage. their humanity isn’t present in the half-wolf/half-human form; being a werewolf is like a parasitic disease. carlos’ family has found their calling in bringing a sense of order to the wild, and during full moons, their purpose is to contain and redirect the beastly werewolves from harming humans.

shifters are rare, and carlos prefers it that way (he doesn’t ever want to find out what tension multiple shifters on the grid could cause). his nature doesn’t give him any unfair advantages in an f1 car, sure, his reaction time may be a little quicker, and he heals faster–but, nothing that would classify as “cheating.” if he did have any extreme advantages, maybe he’d end max’s world champion streak, but that is not the case; anything about his nature still couldn’t make up ferrari’s shortcomings.

the only downside to being a shifter is how they’re mistaken for werewolves (even though they are obviously two completely different beings). the world doesn’t know about the shifter population at large, it’s mainly an “if you know you know” society, and werewolves are known to the masses with how many slaughters they’ve been caught doing from the beginning of time. which is massively unfortunate for carlos. if he were to be revealed as a wolf shifter, he’d probably lose everything he knows–formula one, his privacy, his family, you–and he would probably be scheduled for a public execution if those were still in place. he’s only trusted a small circle of people within formula one with the secret of his wolf; lando, charles, fernando, jon and rupert, and vasseur. it’s made his life easier having people that are aware of his true nature, so he can shift comfortably during race weekends if needed, when you are not able to join him.

regardless of how the world views carlos’ supernatural state, you genuinely don’t understand how people could be terrified of him. carlos is ‘the dream man’™, and you’re not accepting any critiques on that matter. he’s a personal-sized space heater, so you don’t have to worry about being cold at night–and he doesn’t even complain when you stick your icicle-like toes and fingers on him. he cleans without being told to, he’s an excellent home chef, he takes you golfing with him and even lets you caddy for him, he’s protective but in a respectful manner, and he even partial shifts around you so you can play with his ears and give him a good little scratch.

the only downside you could point out about carlos, is that he takes his wolf form a little too seriously. 

carlos was raised to train his inner wolf into a controlled, unfazed, unshaken, apex-predator being. the wolf has one purpose and it’s to guard his territory, the people he loves, and to prevent any werewolf murder sprees. but, you wish he’d allow himself to relax, and have a little more fun in his wolf form.

you’ve started training him, funnily enough, to allow his wolf to be off the clock sometimes. subconsciously, in the comfort of the spanish villa you two call home, he’s started to allow his ears to pop out whenever he’s relaxed enough. the spaced out and confused faces and noises he makes, with his head and ears flicking and tilting to match, invokes an unhealthy sense of cute-aggression from you. sometimes, you manage to persuade him enough to shift to his full wolf form, and that’s where you find the most difficulty of calming his behavior.

he’ll go around sniffing and rubbing his body along all of the walls and corners of the house to spread his claim, and even refuses to nap or sleep with you while he is shifted. he’d sit in the doorway of the room you were in and remain in an alert state to protect you from whatever dangers that may appear, even though he’s already sure none are present. there was one time you were able to convince him to lay with you under the guise of you being cold; he allowed himself to curl around you and rest his snout on your chest, but the way his ears remained cocked let you know that he was wide awake even though his eyes were shut.

he’s thoroughly unamused whenever you try and get him to play with dog toys. it doesn’t matter if it squeaks, crinkles, or smells–he wants nothing to do with them. he can’t say no to an old-fashioned game of fetch, though. whenever you grab a stick from outside, you hear his thundering paws running towards you before skidding to a rapid stop, his haunches firmly touching the ground while his front paws anxiously tip tap in front of him, and his whole body shakes with anticipation for your throw. and from there you started to get him to appreciate tennis balls and frisbees in fetch games. even though his massive jaw and teeth have you ordering replacements way too often.

and the thought of his massive ears, eyes, hands, and teeth—led you to your halloween costume idea. 

little red riding hood.

it makes the most perfect amount of sense. carlos can be the big bad wolf to your red riding hood! except he refused, stating that it would be shameful to use his wolf in such a manner. of course, you're disappointed at his refusal, but you respect his boundaries at the end of the day. so, you were just going to have piñon (your dog) be your big bad wolf. and then, that fell through as well. 

piñon was staying over at carlos’ parents house a few days before halloween, and ended up losing a battle to a mouse that he tried to catch through a fence. the fence scratched him a little deeply on his tummy and he ended up getting stitches and a cone of shame. while his stitches are in, he’s staying with reyes and carlos sr.–and, you’re back to square one; you’re ‘big bad wolf’-less-ness.

you don’t attempt to try and convince carlos to join you again, you just decide to keep your original costume and sit out on the porch handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, missing the other half to your costume. it’s very simple attire, just the red-hooded cloak and a picnic basket full of candy. carlos peeks from the front window’s curtains and watches you smile sweetly at all the children and compliment them on their costumes. he hears you fein terror when kids dressed as werewolves ask for candy, he hears you fawn over the cutest kids and their costumes, and he hears your happiness falter when anyone asks where your ‘big bad wolf’ is. 

you’re in the middle of explaining how piñon wasn’t feeling well to a little girl, and you hear a muffled bark. your head perks up in question, thinking you just imagined it, but then you hear scratches on the door. confused, you go to open the door and carlos comes slinking out to join you on the porch. 

his wolf is massive, when standing on four paws his head nearly reaches your chest, his coat is a silky coloration of a brown so dark it appears black, but in direct sunlight it radiates warmth. his paws are larger than your face and the claws he’s got on them are big enough to match. the little girl shrieks and hides behind her dad’s legs, and the dad backs them up off the porch frantically. 

“no, no, no,” you reassure them, and carlos tries to shrink his body behind your legs, whining lowly, “he’s friendly! i promise he’s a sweetheart, he’s actually pretty shy!” carlos skimpers behind you, quickly managing to shove himself under the outdoor couch, only allowing his head to peek out from underneath. the dad doesn’t quite believe you, and just apologizes and just ushers his daughter to the next house.

you sigh, and plop down a little forcefully on the couch. you hear carlos crawl from underneath the seat, and rise to a sitting position at your side, resting his snout on your lap. you look down and purse your lips at his wide, apologetic brown wolf eyes and raise your hand to give him a few pets. you question softly, “are you going to join me for the whole night?”

carlos blinks at you once. an eager grin spreads across your lips, “yay! aren’t you just such a good boy,” you tease sarcastically. carlos huffs, the force of his exhale swooshing your cloak, before he turns his back to you in dismissal. you laugh at him, and the next group of kids run up yelling for candy, and carlos tries to appear as small as he can so he doesn’t scare these ones away.

after the initial scare carlos caused, everyone seems fascinated at your “wolf-dog,” and how well mannered and amicable he is. carlos lets all the kids who are brave enough pet him, not snapping once even if they accidentally tug at his tail or ears, and sits incredibly still so he has no chance of accidentally crushing them. several dads even pause to give him a sturdy little dad-pat on his side, and inform you of how “that’s a good guard dog you got there, he takes a pat like no problem.” you even impress a few of the moms with how well trained you have him, and how he listens to all of your commands and can do many tricks (so far, the most impressive trick is having him harmonize to your voice with a howl). carlos preens silently next to you whenever little kids can’t help themselves from telling you how pretty you are (his tail thumping on the floor the only giveaway), and seethes when overzealous men and women try and hit on you (growls rumbling out of his chest). you brush off their advances and charmingly tell them, “i don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me cheating on him…especially in front of his dog,” with a disguised smirk. overall, carlos does so well cosplaying as your big bad wolf, that you decide to give him the present you planned all along. 

after the halloween celebrations die down, you and carlos return inside, and you lead the way up to the bedroom as he trots behind you. carlos shifts back into his naked human form, and you giggle and pull him into a hug.

“thank you, my love! everyone loved you tonight–you know you didn’t have to join me outside, right? i didn’t want you to feel pressured to do something you were–” carlos cuts you off with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dismisses your worry, “mi luna, i wouldn’t have gone out there if i did not want to, sí? i am happy i could make the night more fun for you, by playing your “big bad wolf.’”

you pull away with a small ‘aha!’ of remembrance and rush into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind you. carlos stares at the space you were just occupying and shrugs, figuring you have to pee really badly–considering you were sitting on the porch the whole night without a break– and that you’re probably changing out of the costume, before turning to the closet and pulling on clothes. 

he hears the toilet flush, and then the water runs for a minute too long–almost like you’re covering up any noises carlos may hear with his enhanced hearing, but he doesn’t think that you’d have anything to hide from him, anyways. you fling the door open excitedly, still in your riding hood, and pull carlos away from the closet and start dragging him downstairs. 

“ay–” carlos objects, “i don’t have a shirt on yet, mi amor! where are you rushing too?”

you don’t respond verbally, only glancing back at him with a cheeky smirk, and continue to lead him to the backyard. you drop carlos hand once you’ve stepped outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind you two. walking back to him, you stand in front of him–pausing as you stare into the warm depth of his brown eyes, before you take one step backwards. carlos automatically goes to parrot your movement, attempting to take one step towards you to eliminate the space, but you ‘aht-aht’ at him disapprovingly causing him to freeze. you press your hand against his chest near his clavicle and guide him to his original position. patting once with intention, you order, “stay.”

carlos’ eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. he allows you to back away from him, twitching towards you when your bare feet slip off the paved patio onto the grass. you come to a stop when you’re halfway into the yard. 

carlos calls out to you, confused, “amor? what’s this, i do not want to play fetch right now–”

“we’re not going to play fetch carlos,” you start, “we’re going to play a new game called chase.” carlos does his adorable head tilt at you, continuing to question your actions, “qué? i don’t know the game you are talking about, mi luna–wh-what-qué haces (what are you doing)?”

you unbutton the collar of the cloak, and spread the front open, from where you wrapped it tightly around your body, and reveal a matching set of the scantiest, laciest, and most mouthwatering red bra and panties. carlos is stunned to silence, mouth dropping open as his eyes fall to your exposed body. the way your smooth melanated skin is complimented by the rosso corsa-colored lingerie, the way you’re holding open the cloak to allow him to get his fill of your body, the way your hips seductively rock from one side to the other, the way the smell of your arousal begins to become apparent to his sensitive nose–before you abruptly wrap the cloak shut, tying the waistband tightly and shattering the moment.

“we are going to play a game called ‘chase’, carlito. where i run into the woods behind us, and you…chase me.”

carlos’ entranced state is shaken by his protective instincts, “qué? no, no! absolutely not. the woods are dangerous, mi amor–”

“carlosss,” you whine, “you patrol the woods every other week! you know there’s nothing that could hurt me out here, because you’ve already gotten rid of it. you’re going to give chase and you’re going to like it!”

carlos shifts anxiously, not fully persuaded, so you decide to not give him a choice, “ten minutes, love. after that, come catch me.” you turn and run into the densely packed woods, ignoring carlos’ exclamation for you to stop. he doesn’t suddenly appear and stop your disappearance into the forest, so that’s how you know the game is on.

your chest is already heaving from adrenaline and excitement as you run through the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. you pant and the nerves start to set in, not out of fear of what’s in the forest, but fear of giving carlos an easy chase. you stop suddenly and take a sharp turn, running for a minute that way before you circle back and run at a slight diagonal in the opposite direction, overlaying your scent to try and give some added time to your pursuit. running deeper into the woods, it begins to get darker, the only light source are the scraps of moonlight that manage to find a pocket to slip through. your eyes adjust to the reduced light level, pupils blown wide not only in necessity but also arousal, and you come to a halt again. you quickly slip off your red panties and hang them on the nearest branch, hoping that the wetness that’s already seeped into them distracts him from your true location. 

you start to traverse your way through an uphill part of the forest, exhaustion finally beginning to become apparent after that first rush of adrenaline–but then, a familiar howl cuts through the air; your time is up, and carlos is loose in the forest, hunting after you. reinvigorated, you continue running deeper and deeper into the trees, changing directions multiple times losing track of exactly where you’re going.

the wolf fucking losing it. you–his luna, his mate–are out in the forest he protects—his territory—inciting him into a relieving game of chase, allowing him to be just as uncontrolled as he wants in his pursuit of you. he’s quick to catch on your trail, seeing the way you’re rushed heavy steps in the start leaves an easy path for him to follow. and then, he notices you employed different tactics to delay him. he catches himself running in circles you intentionally plotted, and notices how your scent and foot-trail overlaps multiple times. and then, he can tell you switched from running with the full bottom of your foot and just on your toes for a moment to disrupt your trail. his breaths have started to mirror yours, forceful with the adrenaline from a good chase, and he freezes. he smells you.

he speeds up to a full run, paws thundering against the earth under him, loud and uncaring if you hear him coming or not, before he bursts through the trees where your scent is the strongest. but, you’re not there. the wolf whines disbelievingly, bringing his nose to the floor to analyze your scent trail before a glimpse of red catches his attention from the corner of his eye. he spins around swiftly, expecting it to be the swish of your cloak as you run from, but it’s not you.

it’s the damn red panties you kindly left behind for him. 

he rocks up on his hind legs to knock it off the branch to the ground, and presses his muzzle to the barely there fabric, inhaling your arousal deeply. an unhinged growl tumbles his way out of his chest, before it morphs into another full howl, letting you know how much he appreciates your present. carlos won’t be fooled by any more of your tricks again, and he takes off running.

you’ve taken a brief break from running, leaning forward with your hand against your knees as you catch your breath. it’s loud around you; bugs are buzzing and you can hear the hoots of several owls echoing through the forest. suddenly, it goes completely silent, quicker than a drop of a pin. you slam your mouth shut, quieting your inhales, and you slowly shift your stance into a running position, trying to use your hearing to tell what direction the wolf is coming from. you hear the rustle of a tree on your right, and you make to leap away into a run–but it’s too late. 

you’re caught, large hands around your waist and a leg sweeps your own out from underneath you and takes you to the ground. a scream of surprise escapes from your chest but is cut off with a heavy hand laying over your mouth.

carlos is looming over you, kneeled in between your legs, bare as the day he was born, chest heaving, and pupils wide from the thrill and pleasure of a successful hunt. “caught you. i could hear your little heart racing in your chest.” he boasts.

carlos removes his hand only to replace it with his lips, and the passion he bathes your lips with fragments your mind. you can only part your lips and let him ruin you as he pleases. his plump lips suckle on yours before his tongue begins an eager exploration of your mouth–a desperate moan falls from his lips into yours. one of his hands comes to grasp at the curls on your head, tilting you for a better angle; and you raise one of yours to grasp at his shoulder for stability, but carlos startles away. an animalistic growl rumbles through his chest in dissent, and he grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, and pins them above your head. 

you’re at a loss for words, unsure if you want to moan or plead to suck his dick, but carlos doesn’t give you a chance to decide. 

he allows himself one last soul-sucking kiss, before he presses nips into your cheeks and jaw, leading towards your neck. carlos buries his nose deeply into the spot where your jaw meets your neck, and takes an excessive inhale of your scent. dios mio. the way you smell. delectable and rich soaked with lust and the dregs of fear still clinging in the surroundings. he gets to smell this for the rest of his life. another growl erupts possessively, and you can only moan depravedly at the sound.

carlos continues to lavish kisses on his way down your body, bruising them into your skin before soothing over with a pass of his tongue. the hand in your hair releases, coming down to allow him to grasp at your chest, brushing over your nipples in a quick motion; the lace scrapes against them and the feeling is paralyzing. he tugs the rossi corsa bra underneath your breasts, and they spill out over the top in a manner so obscene it forces another moan out of carlos. he ducks his head again, to tease at your nipples with his tongue, alternating between flicking and sucking at them randomly. he ignores your hips are rolling up, attempting to get some friction, and your hands in his wrists flexing and tugging to escape. 

he frees your nipples from the assault of his lips, and starts sucking hickeys into your underboob with a pleased hum. the change in sensation and slight ache, has another scream bursting from your chest, it’s too much.

“c-c-carlos, c’mon! please, please—oh!” cutting yourself off with a gasp, as carlos abruptly pulls away, his large hand releasing your wrists,  to scooch down and bully your legs open with a free hand and shoves his broad tanned shoulders between your thighs. 

you’re dripping everywhere. the tops of your inner thighs are smeared with stickiness and you’ve created a wet spot on the cloak underneath you. a growl fully spills from carlos’ chest, shaking the air around you and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. he is an apex predator, you should at least be slightly terrified, but all you do is moan in response, more arousal leaking from you, and you start begging.

“carlos!p-please touch me! lobo mió—please, dont you wanna taste me? i want you to eat me,” you sob, “eat me out! you h-h-hunted me, take what you want!”

carlos laughs sharply at your obscenity, “oh? mi luna, you’re so bad, aren’t you? you should be scared of having my teeth so close to your pretty pussy, but here you are: begging, leaking, and your little hole winking and clenching at me, sí?”

you quickly agree, “yesyesyes, for you, for you, always. please carlos,” one of your hands flies down to grip at his hair and try and tug his mouth onto you. carlos snaps his teeth at you, and you quickly pull your hand away from his head, leaving it hovering in the air.

carlos growls, “don’t rush me, mi luna, i always take care of you, no?” you hum in agreement, both of your hands falling to your sides and gripping the grass next to you in anticipation.

carlos dips his head and swipes his tongue gently at your left inner thigh, and groans deeply. it’s your scent liquified; he licks his lips and smacks his mouth, savoring your slick. after that one sample he can’t help himself, he loses himself and makes it his personal mission to clean up every last drop of you that spilled. carlos’ mouth is sloppy, and he’s uncaring of how your thighs begin to shake in oversensitivity from the way his beard is scratching your thighs up, red lines appearing faintly on your brown skin. you start squirming away from his mouth, and carlos huffs, annoyed. 

his hands switch to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he pushes them upwards near your chest, and commands, “stop moving, mi amor, or i’ll stop completely.” you moan a soft breathy okay, and your moan pitches into a sharp gasp. carlos runs his nose up your cunt parting the lips, more wetness spreading, before he pauses at your clit; and deeply inhales your scent from where it’s the richest. you cry, half bewildered and half humiliated, at your boyfriend eagerly sniffing at your warmth.

carlos rumbles out, “mierda, mi luna. mmm, so sweet—i cannot wait. i have to get in you, sí?” carlos doesn’t wait for a response and presses two fingers inside you. a cry escapes you at the sudden stretch, but your scent doesn’t sour with pain—carlos continues. he rushes through stretching you; his fingers scissoring you open methodically, consciously avoiding your g-spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt, has tears gathering in your eyes in embarrassment, even though it’s fairly clear that carlos enjoys it. 

his fingers slide out a minute later, and that same hand reaches for his dick to begin spreading your wetness over it. carlos hisses, and with a clenched jaw, he asks, “mi amor—estas lista (are you ready)?” his body is now vibrating with the force he’s holding himself back with, waiting for your approval. 

your hands release the earth, blades of grass you ripped out of the ground falling from between your fingers, and motion carlos to come closer and lean over you, dwarfing your body completely, “yeah, lobo mio, fuck me.”

carlos whimpers, head falling to rest in your neck. his hand grasps tighter at the underside of your left thigh—a bruise forming already—and pushes it firmly to your chest, your right leg bends slightly and you press your knee to his hip, urging him forward.

carlos guides the head of his cock with a trembling hand to your cunt, and gently presses in. you sharply inhale, holding your breath, until the head pops in fully, causing both you and carlos to moan in pleasure. carlos continues sinking deeper within you as controlled and slowly as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort. however, you’re completely gone already. eyes shut in bliss, mouth open, drool already leaking from the corner of your lips. carlos lifts his head to read your expression, and smirks, you’re so easy for him. 

he bottoms out, feeling how your walls squeeze him tightly, and flutter in desperation, like they can’t quite accommodate to his size. carlos waits patiently, chest heaving again from the strain of not taking you, and watches how you squirm underneath him, not knowing if you want to squirm away or closer. you adjust to his presence a handful of seconds later, and grind your hips up to feel the delicious drag of his dick inside of you. carlos’ eyes widen and a shocked groan escapes him before he rolls his own hips down to meet you. 

carlos sets a quick pace from the beginning, he can’t be bothered with building up his speed slowly—he has a claim to lay on you; and to any other being in this forest who can smell how alluring you are, you’re his mate.

moans are being punched out of your chest with every one of his thrusts, harmonizing with his matching grunts of effort. your back is sliding against the grassy floor, and your shoved up with every one of his deep thrusts, and you sink your nails into his back in pleasure, and carlos growls into your ear at the feeling. 

you manage to find words to praise your wolf, “s-so deep in me, carlos—yeahyeahyeah, deeper, baby, please—ah! faster, carlos, faster—“ and carlos does his best to fulfill your wishes; his mouth rests right next to your ear; his panting breaths, and moans only making you squeeze around him tighter.

he soon tires of your orders; he’s not doing his best if he hasn’t fucked the words out of you. carlos suddenly pulls out of you, and you cry out angrily with a furrowed brow, “no, carlos! don’t stop, what are you—“ and with a rough commanding tone, he interrupts you, “stop whining.” your mouth slams shut, the sound of your teeth clacking together mortifyingly loud, your eyes wide with shock.

carlos softens, patting at your hip gently to reassure you that he’s not angry. he then flips you over (cloak spread on the ground underneath you), up on your elbows and knees, and makes to mount you properly—like the wolf he really is. the air is thick, and with your back turned to him in such a vulnerable manner, adrenaline rushes through you again. carlos laughs down demeaningly at you, as your scent thickens even more with lust and smidge of fear. 

rattled at his amusement, you try to push up onto your hands and knees, but carlos automatically pushes you back down, with a heavy, hot and veiny hand scruffing you at the base of your neck. you moan out highly, as carlos forces you back down to your elbows. he releases your neck and smooths his hand down to the small of your back to deepen your arch just the way he wants, and to pull your hips up to match.

all he says is, “now, you stay, just like that—and be a pretty hole for me.”

carlos bullies his dick back inside you, and doesn’t allow you any time to adjust in the this new position. he roughly pounds into you, now only caring about getting his release—he’ll make you cum after he’s thoroughly enjoyed his prize for hunting you down.

carlos’ grunts are animalistic, and his thrusts are too fast for you to try and buck back against him to match his rhythm; all you can do is sit pretty and take what he gives you—just like he said. you can only ramble out four words in between your moans; ‘carlos,’ ‘full,’ and ‘too deep.’ carlos rumbles approvingly at your chanting this time around, and pulls your hips back even closer to dig as deep as he can, uncaring of how you're trying to run from his thrusts.  

your start babbling at the constant pressure and drag against your g-spot, he’s so deep, in this position, hitting areas he can only reach and causes your legs to give out. carlos’ hips don’t falter, as he catches you pulling you back up with a hand around your navel. and then his hips stutter in shock with a crude moan. he grabs one of your hands, causing you to fall flat on your face, head turned to the side with your cheek pressed to the cool red cloak—and guides it to your stomach and holds it there.

carlos resumes thrusting, and preens, “mmm, can you feel that, mi amor? i’m fucking you so deep—ah—you can feel it through your skin.” you can feel it, and the pressure from carlos pressing your hand on his own dick from outside of your body, has your eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face. your legs go limp again, but carlos isn’t fazed; he continues to hold your body up for you. “so good for me,” carlos rambles, “mio luna—my mate.”

abruptly, you feel it. the press of his knot against you, and in a sudden moment of clarity, you start to beg. 

“—los! kn-knot, please! ‘arlos, breed—ahahah—breed me deep and full—oh!”

carlos gnashes his teeth, growling savagely, before he leans down and forcefully bites down at the back of your neck—not enough to break skin, but enough to remind you of his teeth for a few days. you shudder, air stolen from your lungs, and you have no choice but to cum. 

carlos feels the way your pussy flutters around him, failing to push him out with your release flooding your thighs, and how it continues to drag him deeper within you in a hypnotizing motion to milk him dry. carlos struggles to thrust once, twice, thrice more times with how tightly your cunt is gripping him and shoves his cock as deep in you as possible without allowing his knot to slip in, filling you up nice and good—breeding you just like you wanted. 

carlos rocks you two both through the aftershocks, ensuring his cum coats your insides thoroughly, only slowing to a stop when your combined release starts frothing at where the two of you are joined, and your hips start squirming away from him. he guides you back, sitting you on his lap, keeping himself inside you, as he rotates you to face him.

your makeup is ruined. mascara and eyeliner staining your cheeks with the tracks of your tears, red lipstick smudged on your brown skin, eyes wide and still glassy with moisture. carlos swipes his thumb around your lips, fading the smudges as best as he can. 

you smile softly, and ask with a light tone, “wasn’t that fun, mi lobo?”

carlos can only laugh softly, and nod, “yes—i did not know that you would enjoy being bred on the forest floor that much.”

your cheeks flush again after they began to cool, and you smack carlos shoulder in embarrassment. your brow furrows, and your mouth drops into a pout, “why didn’t you knot me?”

carlos raises an eyebrow at you teasingly, “ah, sí! you were begging for it like whore—“

“carlos!”

“i’m joking, i’m joking, mi luna! of course you were begging, more like a slut for my knot than a bitch in h—“

“dios mio, carlos! your fucking mouth after you cum—jesus christ!”

he can only laugh harder, extra pleased at how he gets you to fluster so easily, even after he just railed you in the middle of the forest.

“ay, mi amor—i’ll stop, im sorry,” he starts still grinning cockily, “pero, i did not give you the knot you begged for so sweetly, because my rut is in three days, sí? and i can’t afford to bruise your pretty pussy with my hefty knot before then, no?”

you balk. carlos’s semi-annual rut is a force of its own, you're practically out of commission for a week after it, unable to close your legs from how raw it leaves you. his knot bruises your insides every time you take it, so he definitely made the smart decision by not folding to your cries of desperation.

the scent of the two of you's satisfaction permeates the air, intertwining with the smell of sex, and carlos can only lean forward to mouth at your neck to taste how well he took care of you tonight. 

“mmm,” carlos hums, “now—do you want me to carry you back to our den so i can finally get my mouth on you and clean you up, or do you want me to make another mess of you right here, mi luna?”

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez

© httpsserene 2023

[embrosegraves]

𝔻𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕊𝕞𝕦𝕘

(request) Carlos Sainz Jr x Reader "Are you decent?" "Probably not morally, but I've got clothes on, if that's what you're asking"

Dating a Formula One driver meant that life would never be smooth sailing. For a lot of people, this was terrifying and if you were honest with yourself, it did scare you a bit at first. However now that you were a few years into it, it wasn’t as bad as you once thought. Sure there were moments that you wished you could live even a tiny bit more privately, but such is life unfortunately. One thing you were grateful for about this chaotic spin on life (besides your boyfriend of course), was that your career was thriving. There was no way your career wouldn’t thrive. You were a lifestyle vlogger with access to the unadvertised side of a world famous athlete. 

You had been filming snippets of your life long before you had crossed paths with Carlos. Having been in the vlogging business for 8 years now, you had been dating Carlos for 3. Carlos was well aware of your career choice and while it had taken him a while to get used to you filming every other week, he eventually came to terms with it. He even managed to start having a bit of fun with it. Your fans always loved when Carlos made a cameo in your videos.

Currently, Carlos was getting dressed in your shared ensuite, having just finished showering after his training session, while you were filming in the kitchen. Today had been a filming day for you. You had taken the camera with you as you went grocery shopping, explaining that you were planning a home date for Carlos and yourself. You filmed as you went shopping for a small gift to give Carlos and you filmed as you prepped the food you planned to cook with Carlos later. 

Originally, you were content with waiting for Carlos to be done before you even went near the bedroom but you had forgotten something that you had left on your vanity. Camera in hand, you thought why not record the retrieval as a sort of spy-esque montage. It would be fun for the fans and yourself, and who could say no to pretending to be a spy? Opening your bedroom door, you moved the camera in a way that made it look like you rolly-pollied your way across your room. Making sure the camera was facing you, you began to ‘sneakily’ rummage through everything on your vanity in search for the “hidden jewel that had been stolen by pirates”. However it was nowhere to be seen. 

“Alright guys, I think we’ll have to give up on being spies. I’m pretty sure I left it in the ensuite because it’s not on my vanity.” You explained to the camera. “There’s just one problem. Carlos is currently in said ensuite and I have no idea if he’s naked or not. Which isn’t normally a problem but I’m selfish so I’m gonna gatekeep that from you all.”  

You quickly made your way to the ensuite door and knocked loud enough for Carlos to hear over his music. You could hear him turn off his music. 

“Yeah?” He called from inside. 

“I’m filming.” You said. “Are you decent?” 

“I mean probably not morally, but I’ve got clothes on if that’s what you meant.” You heard him laugh to himself as you opened the door. You poked your head through first, just to be safe. Seeing that he was indeed dressed, you moved the camera to face him. 

“I’m keeping that in, I hope you know that.” 

“I would hope so, that was hilarious. The people need to know that I’m funny.” He walked up to you and gave you a kiss. “Did you need something?” 

“Mmm.” You hummed as his hands came to rest on your hips. “I honestly don’t even remember what it was.” 

Carlos chuckled before he grabbed something from the bathroom counter. He held it in front of you with a smirk on his face. 

“It wouldn’t happen to be the mini ring light that you always forget to put back on your vanity, would it?” 

Your sheepish smile told him everything he needed to know.

overall, I'm pretty happy with how this turned out. With twitter in shambles over what happened, I thought I'd post the Carlos request I had in my drafts, as a treat/distraction.

I hope you all enjoyed!

Likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated!

[cashmeremars]

𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐝 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬 || 𝐜.𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: carlos sainz jr x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’re moving to Madrid to be closer to Carlos and on the day he picks you up from the airport, he has a suprise for you

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: established relationship, fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

𝐚/𝐧: carlos is attentive (and rich)

"You’re not kidnapping me, right?”

The buzz of Carlos’ car dwindled under the breeze whistling through the rolled-down window. Soft bossa nova tunes floated around the car as you reached over to toggle the volume on the radio. Yoshitaka Minami’s voice flooded your ears as your eyes fluttered closed. You practically had complete ownership of the car radio whenever you and Carlos drove around together, and he didn’t mind at all. Carlos’ hand stroked your knee tenderly as he swivelled up and down the bustling streets of Madrid. You indulged in the smell of the fresh breeze, and the familiar musk of Carlos’ cologne. It was the fragrance of home. Your new home. 

You’d spent numerous Summers in Madrid with Carlos, but you’d always found yourself missing the comfort of your hometown, even though you didn’t really enjoy the town itself. You’d always end up so homesick while you were in Madrid, feeling lost as you yearned to go back to your mundane life, away from intruding cameras and vexing fans. Yet, when you went back home, you found yourself calling Carlos every night, expressing how much you missed him and life in Madrid. It was paradoxical, and Carlos never understood why your feelings about Madrid and your hometown were equally polarizing, but he never pried. Nonetheless, the more time you spent in Madrid, the more you felt like the lack of privacy was worth it. Madrid was beautiful; the streets, the people, the culture, it was everything your hometown had never been. So here you were, sitting in your boyfriend's Ferrari 812 Competizione, with your luggage in the trunk, and your heart in his hands. 

The car ride from the airport to Carlos’ home wasn’t long, you’d practically memorized the route yourself after travelling between the two locations so frequently. Carlos’ fingers tapped on your clothed thigh to the mellow beats of the song, causing you to turn your attention toward him. His hair had been tossed around due to the turmoil of the wind, yet it still managed to look more cloud-like than messy. It was an art form. He hummed along to the music before throwing a quick look at you.

“It’s rude to stare, querida,” Carlos chuckled, his gruff voice snapping you out of your daze.

“Not staring. Just admiring, querido,” You replied. He squeezes your thigh once before returning his hand to the steering wheel, leaving the lingering phantom of his touch.

“I missed you a lot,” Carlos spoke.

“I missed you too. Don’t worry, there will be plenty of time for you to talk about how devoted and in love with me you are once we get home,” You punctuate the sentence with a poke to his cheek, and he turns his head in an attempt to bite your finger.

“I unpacked all the boxes you sent over to the house from your hometown. I think you’re really gonna like how everything turned out.” Carlos said.

“Didn’t realize you were also a part-time interior designer,” you teased.

“I suppose I’m just good at a lot of things,” Carlos winked.

You turned your attention back toward the picturesque view painting the window. The trees and buildings blurred into a single mosaic as the car sped through the city. Carlos slowed the car down as he moved into the right lane of an intersection. You faced him with a raised eyebrow as the car turned onto the unfamiliar road. This was not the way to Carlos’ home, but he remained unfazed.

“Carlos, I think we’re going the wrong way,” you said as you leaned further into the window.

“Nope. This is the right way,” Carlos said curtly.

“Is this the long way?” You were looking right at him now.

“I guess you could say that,” He said, keeping his eyes directly on the road ahead of you.

“Carlos…” The music was being drowned out by the tumbling of thoughts in your head. The syncopated guitar couldn’t stop your brain from kicking into overdrive.

“Don’t worry, I know where we’re going,” He pokes your thigh, sensing the anxiety boiling over in your stomach. 

“We’re going home, right?” You ask.

“In a way.” The corner of Carlos’ mouth upturns.

“Carlos, seriously. You’re not kidnapping me, are you?” You half-joked. Carlos laughs at the quiver in your voice. 

“Mi amor, I’m not doing anything. Don’t worry,” Carlos reassured.

“Fine.” You gave in, calming your unnerving thoughts as you analyzed the unknown environment.

Carlos continued to drive through Madrid, stopping upon a large iron gate surrounded by meticulously sculpted trees. He pulled out his phone, typing quickly before the iron gates began to creak open. Carlos smiled at you briefly as the car started to drive forward. The driveway was decorated in yellowed cobblestone, leading up to a breathtaking statue situated at the heart of a fountain adorned with specks of moss. 

“Carlos, what are we doing here?” You whisper. 

“You’ll see. Be patient, querida.” He turns off the car engine before opening the driver-side door. Carlos opens up the passenger-side door, holding out his hand for you like the gentleman he was, even when he was being annoyingly secretive. You place your hand into Carlos’, allowing your fingers to entangle as he leads you to your luggage in the trunk of the car. He pops open the trunk, grabs your luggage for you, then smiles at you once more before leading the pair of you up the cobblestone path. 

As you walked further up the path, a regal home sat at the top of the slope. The exterior of the home was a mustard yellow with grand windows that spanned the entire height of the building. Plants and abstract furniture peeked through the openings of the windows. The home could only be described as otherworldly. 

“Carlos, can you tell me where we are now?” The home was so captivating that you hadn’t even bothered looking at Carlos as you spoke to him. 

“Cariño, remember when we were watching Architectural Digest a few months ago, and there was that one home that you said was the embodiment of your dream home? Well, I did some research and it turns out the house was located in Madrid. So I bought it. For you. For us.” Your heart plummeted to the floor of your stomach. You could almost hear the pride oozing from Carlos’ mouth. “Is that okay with you?” Your silence was causing Carlos to deflate as he searched your face for a hint of emotion 

“Cariño, please say something,” Carlos placed your luggage on the doorsteps in favour of holding your hands in his. 

“Carlos…” Your gaze shifted to his. His eyebrows were knitted together as his eyes fixated on yours.

“If you’re going to be mad at me, please do it inside. There’s a really pretty view in there,” Carlos spoke carefully, pointing toward the home. Your home. 

“Carlos, I don’t know what to say… I love it so much. I love you so much. This is, like, surreal. My brain is hardly processing this.” You sank into him, wrapping your arms around his torso as if he were about to vanish into the atmosphere. Carlos encased you in his embrace, embellishing the top of your head with never-ending kisses. 

“I mean, you bought us a house. My dream house, Carlos. I’m having a hard time believing you aren’t a literal Angel,” You spoke, lifting your head to look into his eyes.

“The only angel here is you, mi amor.” He nuzzled his nose into the side of your head, holding you tighter.

“How are you so perfect?” You felt your eyes begin to water as the weight of the moment began to settle. You’d been so hesitant to move to Madrid, but everything turned out better than you could have ever hoped, and it was all because of Carlos. He released you from his hold before he dug into his pockets in search of the house keys. Carlos pushed the front door open, and a wave of warm vanilla diffused into your lungs. You walked past the threshold of the front door together, welcoming your new environment as a unit. The interior of the home was suited perfectly to your and Carlos’ tastes. It was an undeniable incarnation of your relationship; coordinated, cozy, and inarguably quite beautiful.

“Your clothes were unpacked and placed in our shared closet, all of your instruments are in their own music room, and we’ve even got a home theatre for when our friends come over,” Carlos explains. Photos of the pair of you lined the hallway as they sat in gold picture frames. You couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been working on this. 

“Friends? I’m not sure about that. Can’t let Pierre taint our little sanctuary.” You joked, stroking Carlos’ back. 

“Come on, Hermosa, you’ve gotta see the library we decorated for you,” He grabs your hand, pulling you down the vast hallway. 

“Library? Carlos, you’re joking…” Hummingbirds couldn’t have competed with the flutter of your heart.

“I know what my girl likes.” 

masterlist

fic recs

requests info + navi 

[lxndonorris]

cycling adventure - Carlos Sainz Jr

Y/N x Carlos Sainz Jr Theme: Smutish, Teasing, Touching going on a cycling trip with Carlos x word count: 1010+ taglist: @game-set-canet open for requests :)

Under the warm sun, you embarked on a cycling adventure with your boyfriend, Carlos. The refreshing breeze carried the promise of an exhilarating ride. Dressed in your cycling gear, you pedal side by side, the rhythmic sound of your wheels on the pavement creating a harmonious melody.

As you cycle through scenic paths and empty roads, you feel Carlos' gaze on you. Turning your head, you catch him staring at you. You cannot see his eyes underneath his pretty sunglasses; however, his mischievous smile tells you everything you need to know.

Still side by side, you exchange teasing glances, adding playful energy to the air. A tingling sensation sparks inside your belly, and you can't resist challenging him to a short race.

With a playful smile, you propose, "Race you to that tree?" You motion toward a large tree a few hundred meters in the distance.

As a professional racer, he is very competitive, and you use that to your advantage. An impish smirk forms in the corner of his lips as he lifts his head slightly. "I can't say no to that." Carlos smirks, and without hesitation, you surge forward, wheels spinning in sync.

The race is tight, your breathless grunts carried by the win as you push yourself, the thrill of competition adding a burst of excitement to the sunny day.

In the end, you manage to inch ahead, crossing the imaginary finish line with a triumphant grin.

Choosing a serene spot, you guide your bike to a stop beneath the sprawling branches of another large tree, its leaves creating a refreshing shade.

You get off the bike and turn around to find Carlos leaning against the handlebars of his bike. Both of you are breathing deeply, trying your best to catch your breath.

"You're so fast," he admits, dismounting his bike with a genuine smile and extending a congratulatory hand.

"Learning from the best." You shake hands—a shared moment of true sportsmanship.

In that moment, he closes the remaining distance, and your lips meet in a sweet and spontaneous kiss. The taste of victory mingled with the refreshing breeze.

You enjoy the way his stubble tickles your skin, and the faint scent of his cologne hovering in the air all around him. Such a familiar, yet alluring taste.

As he kisses you again, you slightly give in to him, closing your eyes for a few seconds, which feels like a blessing. Steadying yourself against his well-formed chest, you stroke his firm chest, enjoying how his chest bulges against the palm of your hand with every breath he takes.

"Mhmm." Carlos purrs right into your mouth, enjoying your gentle touch.

As he pulls back, a subtle shift in focus occurs, and you can't help but notice how well he looks in the cyclist's gear. The snug fit accentuates his athletic form, and the play of sunlight highlights the contours of his physique.

Guiding his bike, you watch him lean both bikes against the tree, granting you a good look at his back, his arse, and his thick thighs. All of his muscles are hard, as adrenaline is still pumping through his veins.

You can tell that the same excitement is rushing through your body as well.

A quiet apprecation lingers in your gaze, a realization that goes beyond the playful competition—a silent acknowledgement of the allure he carries in every moment, even in the simplicity of cycling gear.

In one swift motion, he takes his helmet off and turns around, tilting his head teasingly as the mischievous grin reappears on his lips. You follow his lead and take your helmet off, and you shake your head slowly, letting your hair fall freely around your face.

Drawing near, he moves with a confident ease, the playfulness of the day evident in his approach. You love the way he carries himself—a mixture of self-assurance and genuine affection.

Carlos reaches for your waist, and a spark of anticipation flickers between you. His touch was both gentle and firm, pulling you closer in a dance of shared closeness.

Your lips meet once again, the kiss carrying a blend of sweetness and desire.

At the same time, you feel his hands encompassing your body, running along your waistline, touching your butt and stroking the small of your back.

With every move of his fingers, you feel sparks of electricity rush down your spine—a sensational feeling.

"Carlos." You breathe into his mouth, placing both of your hands at his chest, returning the favor by stroking s´him too.

Swallowing hard, you pull away, your eyes wandering down to his chest, his clothes barely able to contain his hard pecs and abs.

However, you also spot a bulge forming inside his tight pants—his desire and lust building inside his body are showing.

Carefully, Carlos lifts your chin with two fingers as he watches you through his sunglasses. While you can still feel his other hand now firmly holding your butt, you grind your hips against him, teasing him some more.

"We should race more often." He growls deeply, his voice even deeper and rougher than usual.

"Anytime, babé." You raise an eyebrow as he traces your jawline with his thumb before he caresses your cheek tenderly.

"Next time, I'll win." He smirks, leaning in for another sweet yet longing kiss.

Unable to contain your cuirosity, you let a hand glide down his chest, right to his crotch, feeling the excitement filling his body.

Carlos purrs in response before he lets out a breathless moan right into your mouth.

This sends shivers down your spine, and you grab him firmly- the way he bulges against your hand makes it even worse.

Then, a car rushes by, snapping you out of this blissful moment of intimacy.

Both of your faces flush with color, and you giggle under your breath.

"We should... get this home," you propose, tracing the outline of his length once, and he nods in agreement. Even though he cannot hide the excitement this would pose, this is not the right time.

With your bikes nearby, you reach for the water bottles, refreshing sips cutting through the crisp air.

Exchanging more teasing glances, you watch each other, and together, you get ready to get on your bikes again to resume your tour.

[discopaddock]

MUSHROOMING - CARLOS SAINZ JR.

PAIRING: carlos sainz jr. x fem!reader

WORDS: 432

GENRE: fluff

NOTE: i need to go mushrooming as soon as autumn comes 🥱🍂 english isn't my first language, so im sorry for any mistakes

WARNINGS: carlos is a little bit upset but only once, toadstools

Y/N and Carlos stood at the entrance of the forest with wicker baskets and little knives in their hands.

“You sure this is legal, cariño?” he asked, looking at his girlfriend unconvinced.

“Of course! But there are some mushrooms that you'll eat only once in your life” she joked and started going into the forest.

“What do you mean “only once in your life”?” Carlos chased her, because he didn't start walking in the same moment as she didn't because of her joke, which had made him mindless.

“I mean that some mushrooms are poisonous” she sighed and rolled her eyes. Sometimes she really could see how her beloved Spaniard was a privileged boy from a wealthy family and she was only a village girl from a family of moderate means.

“THEY ARE POISONOUS?!” he shouted and Y/N only hit his head.

“You can't scream in the forest, a lot of animals live here” she scolded him for his scream and he only took a deep breath to calm down.

Y/N grabbed his hand and squeezed it a little with a grin on her face. “Come on, Carlitos” she said and led him through the forest.

“You're completely sure this isn't dangerous?” Carlos questioned for the last time, watching his girlfriend picking a bolete.

“No baby, you were eating one of these yesterday and yet, you're still alive” she answered and put the mushroom in her basket.

Her boyfriend squatted next to her and picked a mushroom, which looked exactly like the one his girl had just picked.

In the next hour they had their baskets almost filled and then Y/N saw what was in the one which belonged to Carlos.

“Love, um, do you know, what is this?” she asked, holding a mushroom with red hat in with white dots in her hand.

“A mushroom” he answered quickly and picked the same one.

“Carlitos, these are toadstools” she announced and the Spaniard catapulted it into the grass.

“I'm so sorry, cariño” he said and started taking out the toadstools of his basket.

“It's okay, Carlitos” Y/N said and kissed him shortly.

“But look what I had picked! I'm so terrible at mushrooming” Carlos grumbled and next he groaned.

“But you're excellent at racing and golf! It's normal that you aren't good at everything you do. Mushrooming is my thing tho” she laughed a little and kissed him once again. “I love you Carlitos, no matter if you're good at mushrooming or you're not”.

“I love you too, cariño” Carlos said and put his lips in hers.

masterlist

[eccentricwritingbaby]

funny wife, happy life

carlos sainz x wife!reader

summary - the grids beloved couple have begun a prank war, subjecting the drivers and fans to their hilarious antics

masterlist

request by anonnie :) thank you love! - hey you could write about carlos that he and Y/N his wife that they are the funniest couple in the paddock that Y/N has the same personality as carlos that they often play pranks on each other on tiktok

-

your knees were cramping, on the verge of giving out, as you held your hidden position in your husband’s drivers room. charles had told you he’d be back in a few minutes. a few minutes. ha! you’ve been sitting here for ages and you’re about to collapse. until finally you hear the sweet, sweet sounds of your husband's laugh approaching you quickly. you give a quick scramble to collect yourself and pull up your tik tok account in order to record the heart attack soon to be inflicted upon carlos. the door handle jiggles and opens, alerting you of his presence. his footsteps become closer to your hidden position behind a few large items and abruptly stop. you take it as your queue to jump but before you can-

“BOO!” your husband screeches at you with his phone in your face as you let out a mirroring yell and fall backwards on your ass. 

“AYE DIOS MIO!” you hold your hand over your racing heart and carlos crumples to the floor in a fit of hysterics. you can’t help but join in soon, but not without playfully swatting at him in a joking matter of pretending to be angry. 

“mi-mi amor,” carlos tries his hardest to get out in between laughs as he begins to sit up, “you’re too easy!” he falls again, most likely due him replaying the scenario again in his head.

“aye! easy? i believe i remember you begging for a date with me, señor,” you continue to chuckle at his phrasing, teasing him relentlessly felt like a duty to you. 

“whatever,” he brushes off the playful comment and turns his attention to the video he recorded of you on his phone, “y/n, this is too funny,” 

“si, bueno. i wish i got that video of you instead, though” you act out a solemn expression and carlos sees right through your jokes.

“well you didn’t, loser. i’m posting this,”

-

you and carlos had opted for a night in after the race due to his fatigue and your absolute need for a shower. after lando had pleaded with you both for a minute to rethink your decision as you were walking back to the hotel, he ultimately gave up trying and muttered a slight ‘old married couple’ at you and carlos while the both of you just laughed at his mini tantrum. 

once inside your hotel room, carlos headed for the shower, but stopped and turned when he noticed you weren’t following.

“i thought you wanted to shower, amor?” he asked in your direction.

“i do, but i kind of want to shower alone tonight, lo siento,” you respond while biting your lower lip to not give away your amusement. see - you had a plan. while carlos was in the shower you were going to get to the vanity and paint on a fake hickey. set up your phone. and get him back for ruining your prank earlier. 

carlos stands looking at you with a bit of skepticism. you rarely shower separately, only when upset with each other and he was beginning to worry, “aye, are you mad about earlier? me scaring you?”

“love, the only thing that is scaring me right now is how stinky you are. i’m not mad i just don’t need a smelly shower with you,” you shrug off his accusation with a laugh in order to lighten the mood and your husband catches on, chuckling with you.

“okay, you don’t need to tell me twice,” he begins to make his way over to you with his arms out wide, “you do want a stinky hug before i hop in, no?” calling your bluff he tries to latch his arms around you as you scream and try to run away.

“sto-stop!” you giggle as he grabs you in his arms, “eww! carlos!” the whine slips from your lips as he starts planting kisses all over your neck and face, tickling you causing you to let out more laughter. his grip loosens and he backs away towards the bathroom, grabbing his change of clothes off the dresser as he does so. one arm raised and a finger pointed at you he lets go of a very loose warning, “this isn’t over, cariño,”

“oh no!” you gasp in dramatics, “the tickle monster! what am i five?” carlos just laughs and releases a ‘loca’ under his breath as he shuts the bathroom door and turns on the shower. you then quickly get to work with your makeup, planting the perfect looking hickey in a place he hasn’t seen all day, but will very soon. once it was done, you discreetly hide your phone and patiently wait on the bed for carlos to leave the bathroom. 

fresh out of the shower, your husband steps into your room with just a pair of sweatpants on as he continues to run the towel over his damp hair. you take that as your sign to begin your prank and tie your hair up into a bun - giving carlos the perfect view of your neck. walking over to him, you plant a kiss on his lips and step back from him as he turns his attention towards his wife. looking you up and down for a second, making eye contact with the hickey, you feign confusion and innocence by proceeding to ask, “que, mi amor? is there something on my face?” you attempt to turn and ‘check’ yourself in the mirror, but carlos pulls on your arm, spinning you around to face back at him. he quickly discards the towel in his hand, throwing it to the floor, as he looks closer at your neck. 

“did you hurt yourself, cariño?” he asks softly, “maybe with one of your hair tools or something,” he finishes as if he’s almost assuring himself. 

“no? what is this carlos?” you question, trying your damnedest not to let out a smile.

“tienes algo en el cuello,” you have something on your neck uh oh. carlos only spoke direct spanish with you when he was deep in a feeling - lust, happiness, anger. “parece un…” it looks like a… 

“que?” you ask softly.

“a hickey, y/n. it looks like a hickey. y sé muy bien que no fui yo quien te dio esto,” and i know very well it was not me that gave you this

“oh, oh that? ya, um, actually that might be from my curling iron, you were right!” responding lightly only made carlos narrow his eyes at you further. 

“y/n, qué hice mal,” what did i do wrong?

“oh no, carlos, baby, nothing- you did nothing wrong,” you panic at his sadness and hold his face in your hands, “it’s just a prank, los, te lo prometo,” i promise you

he looks down at you, widening his eyes in hope before he says anything, then you hear - so quietly you almost miss it, ‘take it off’. 

“i will, i will baby. come here, come with me,” you lead him into the bathroom, grabbing your makeup wipes in haste and rubbing the fake hickey right off your neck. you hear your husband let out a long and deep exhale before he gives your sides a squeeze. 

“you just took ten years off my life with that stress, amor,”

“lo siento, carlos. i’ll even show you the video where i put it on if that makes you feel better,” you turn around in his hold and give him not one, not two, but three quick pecks to the lips as you drag him back into the room to retrieve your phone. as of that moment, carlos begins plotting his revenge. 

-

the next week, your husband and you arrive early at the paddock for race day due to his necessary media duties. with your hands intertwined, you begin making your way to the ferrari garage - passing a few reporters and fans on the way. while making your way, a few fans had called out to the both of you. carlos always joked that his fans loved you more than him, but every joke has a bit of truth to it. 

“y/n! carlos! over here! can we get a picture?”

your husband - ever the gentleman - turns his attention to the young group of girls at the barricade and leads you both over to them. once carlos had signed a few things and taken a few pictures, you both turn to leave but are prevented by the girls. 

“y/n! can we get a picture with you too!” carlos checks you over, asking you non-verbally if you’re okay with it and you slightly nod in his direction to signify the answer. bending down and over slightly, the girls grab a few selfies with you and speak to you about their love for your tik toks, tweets, and overall personality. with your light ego boost, you turn and chuckle to your husband. 

“isn’t it great that your fans love me more?” you give him a sly smile and a poke to his stomach as he laughs along with you.

“aye, they’re just saying that to make you feel better, amor,” he shoots back quickly.

“nuh-uh,” you scoff back, “they love me so much more, i think i better be the one to race today,” at this point the girls are recording your interaction while giggling at the banter your husband and you have provided. 

“in your dreams, cariño,” he bites back with a smile.

with that comment, you whip around to face the group, “do you hear how he speaks to me? my own husband! he hates me!” you sigh dramatically as carlos pulls you into his arms. the crowd before you erupts in laughter at your antics and your husband bids polite goodbyes, leading you away. you’re both leaving in cackles as you continue to jab each other back and forth.

as you round the corner to the ferrari garage, you both run into fernando walking towards aston martin. 

“hola, nando!” you call out with a wave. he stops curtly and leans in your direction, arms parting for a hug. you receive it kindly, swaying lightly back and forth all while exchanging pleasantries. 

“aye, he oído felicitaciones están en orden,” i hear congratulations are in order fernando presses with a smile.

“porque felicitaciones?” why congratulations? you ask back to him. 

“oh! lo siento, ¿se supone que nadie debe saberlo?” i’m sorry, is no one supposed to know?

your confusion ends when you turn to your now - dying laughing - husband at your left, “¿le dijiste a todo el mundo que estaba embarazada?” did you tell everyone i was pregnant?

carlos can’t even shake out words at this point due to laughter as he just begins to vigorously nod his head yes. fernando takes this as his sign to head back in his previous direction, chuckling under his breath something about ‘these damn kids again’. 

“you’re dead, carlos sainz,” you state matter-of-factly at him. 

“i’m sorry, me or my fathe-”

“YOU KNOW WHO!” you yell back, cutting off his smart ass comment, “does the whole grid really think im fucking pregnant, you ass?” this time carlos’ laughter is cut short and he just slowly shakes his head yes, nervousness now overwhelming his features instead of amusement. 

“do you now realize how stupid that was?” you ask him again. again he slowly nods his head yes, his eyes only meeting his shoes. out of your peripheral, you can see lando approaching the both of you and he holds out his arms in glee.

“there are my favorite soon-to-be parent-”

“SHUT IT!” you snap in his direction, “the only child i will be raising for the foreseeable future is the one in front of me,” you nod your head towards carlos, and his eyes - again - never leave his shoes. lando begins to laugh even louder than your husband did before at his friend being scolded like a child.

“oh i am so tweeting about this,” he lets out between laughs. 

you take a glance over at your husband and whisper a light ‘karma’ into his ear before you kiss his cheek and head off to find his family in the garage. 

-

after the race, carlos is doing interviews and you are searching to find him. not being in the media pen, but instead just along the gates talking to reporters, you easily walk up to your husband and wait over to the side for him to finish. the reporter speaking to him notices your presence and begins to wave you over. you shake it off quickly, wanting your husband to have his shining moment, but instead he also joins in waving you over - causing you to reluctantly head in their direction. 

“hi!” you squeak out to the reporter, carlos pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“hi, y/n! thank you for joining us for the interview!” the young woman starts. 

“thank you for letting me crash!” you reply back with a giggle. 

“not crashing, you’re here by invitation,” your husband speaks up, kissing your forehead after doing so.

“i’m sorry if we were too forward to invite you,” the reporter chimes in fast.

“no, no!” you assure back, “i just didn’t want to outshine ‘ole carlos over here, you know how it is,” you joke, giving the reporter and your husband a laugh. 

“for sure,” the young woman gives you, “we love you two as a couple, you both have been informally deemed the grids funniest couple with all your banter and tik tok pranks, how do you both feel about that title?”

“it’s a heavy weight to carry,” you dramatically sigh, “i have to keep the people on their toes and give them what they want,” the reporter laughs once again at your comments as you shrug before your husband chimes in, “funny wife, happy life - right?” you all share one more laugh before the reporter lets you two depart. 

as you’re walking out of the paddock, hand in hand, you reach up on your toes to plant a kiss to carlos’ lips. he hums back in approval, stopping you, with his hold moving to your waist and pressing deeper. you smile into the kiss and can feel him doing the same. once pulling apart, your husband stares into your eyes, the contact moving from eye to eye to lips. you almost crumble watching him shamelessly adore you. 

“what are you thinking about, amor?” you gently ask, attempting not to ruin the soft moment with loud diction.

“just how much i love you, cariño,” his reply is simple, yet means so much. even though you both are playful with your antics and pranks, your love is something that never falters with seriousness. and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[norrisleclercf1]

Omg just because I feel like Carlos looks so grumpy but is sunshine inside

Mafia Carlos and you have been arrange married and he usually keeps his distance from you but one day you end up seeing him kill someone or see one of his men doing smth spooky and it scares you and he comforts you 🥹🥹

A/N: Fuck off, I love this

He was always so sweet to you, he was a little shy when it came to you but he was nothing but kind. After your marriage night, he slept on the couch in your shared room, he didn't want to force anything on you. He refused to be that man.

He made you pancakes and you just sat and watched him. You could tell he was watching your movements waiting for the moment you'd flinch of something, but never did. Honestly you craved his touch, he was warm and just seemed like he'd be great to cuddle with.

It made you smile behind your coffee and it's one of your favorite memories with him.

It's been four years of marriage and you two have slept together once in a while, and he started to sleep in the shared bed. It was slow strids and honestly you'd wait an eternity for him. He made you laugh, and taught you how to make his pancakes when you miss him, while he's gone for buisness trips.

"Carlos?" You roll over in bed, snuggling closer into his chest which has him humming. You giggle hearing his groggy voice as you place with his chest hairs. Something you started to do and noticed he loved, but he'd never admit that. "What's wrong amor?" His sleep tumbled voice making you warm. "One of your men called, needs you downstairs." You whisper his arms going tighter around you.

"Do they now?" He asks but doesn't even budge to get out of the bed. Not wanting to leave you in the bed. "Yes," Neither of you move out of the bed until loud knocking on your bedroom door has Carlos sighing. "I have to get up, amor," You whine, but remove your arms to allow him to get out of bed. You watch as your husband gets up and slides on some sweatpants.

He leans over his empty spot and place two kisses. One on your lips and the other on your wedding ring. "Be back," He whispers, and you nod.

You don't know how long time had passed, but you hear loud noises that has your body shocking you awake. "What the hell," You whisper, pulling at one of Carlos's shirts on and tiptoeing out of the bedroom. You hear the sound of angry Spanish be thrown around.

You were learning the language, but still had some trouble and with them speaking so fast it was even harder to understand it. You step halfway down the stairs and stop, seeing your husband and his men. You watch from the shadows as Carlos yells, something you've never seen from your goofy, soft-hearted husband.

You cover your mouth as you watch as he continues to yell and stops. Your heart stops as the sound of gunfire fills the house, and soon your scream. You don't wait to see the complete horror on Carlos's face hearing your scream as you slip and fall up the stairs and slamming the bedroom door.

"Fuck," He sighs and hands off the gun wiping the gunpowder off his hands. "Clean this up, and be gone in a hour." Carlos moves up the stairs and to your shared bedroom.

You hide in the closet, for some unusual reason you hide among Carlos's clothes, Carlos who loved making pancakes, who played with puppies, Carlos who was so sweet with babies it made you think of having a couple of your own.

The closet door opens and you tense until you see Carlos sit down slowly in front of you. "Amor, you know this is my job." He whispers, getting to your height. "It's different, seeing you actually do...that." You whisper hiding your face, Carlos moves closer to you where your knees touch.

"I'd never hurt you like that, you know that, yes? I would never allow someone to do that to you, with me around. I'd.....I'd handle it if they ever did." He whispers trying to comfort you somehow.

"I don't like it in the house," You whisper moving and placing your head on his shoulder. "Then it'll never happen in the house again," He promises meaning every word. "And, I don't want the kids around it either," Carlos can't help but smile, quickly masking it because he wanted nothing more than to have children with the woman he loves.

"Deal, now, come to bed." He whispers and you nod, but neither of you move, just basking in each other's silence in the closet.

[sainzfilm]

🧣 can this be a real thing? - carlos sainz 🧣

summary: carlos had always been there for you, through thick and thin, whenever and wherever. but will he let you bring him to your family’s christmas dinner as someone you’re fake dating when he has real feelings for you?

taglist: @svechyaho @mehrmonga @squderia @idkiwantchocolatee @koufaxx @melonunicornbby @myescapefromthislife @slut-era @pachiibatt @nicolesainz @clcspeonies @estevries @dan3avocado @sidcrosbyspuck @barzysreputation @verclercswiftie @mick2mercedes

check out my winter wonderland celebration!

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Carlos groaned as he rolled over, blindly searching for his ringing phone on the nightstand before picking it up, “Hola?”

“Oh thank god, you picked up,” You exclaimed through the phone, pacing around in your room, “I need a favor. It’s urgent.”

“Great way to start my day, and it’s only…7:30 am,” Carlos muttered, holding the phone to his ear, “What favor?”

Exhaling deeply, you laughed nervously and rubbed the back of your neck, “I lied to my family, saying I was seeing someone, when in fact I’m obviously not. So, now I need you to be that someone at the family dinner this Sunday.”

“Dios mío, make things simpler,” He frowned in confusion, rubbing a hand down his face, “My brain is not awake yet.”

“Sorry, I’m just in under extreme stress,” You replied, tapping your foot out of habit, “I need you to be my pretend boyfriend at my family dinner.”

If Carlos had mentioned his brain wasn’t awake yet, then it was definitely working at maximum effort now. He immediately sat up and ran a hand through his hair, “Jesus Christ, Y/N, what have you done?”

“Please? You’re my best friend and I need this favor so bad,” You begged, “Just help me out please, Carlos?”

Groaning as he accidentally banged his head on the headboard a bit too hard, Carlos sighed and nodded even if you couldn’t see it, “Text me the details, I’ll pick you up then we’ll go together on Sunday. You owe me.”

“Oh thank heavens, thank you, Carlos,” You let out a sigh of relief, laying back down on your bed, “I do, I owe you one. I’ll see you then, love you!”

As the line went silent, Carlos threw his phone on the empty side of the bed and stared at the ceiling. Love. Would that word come out of your mouth that was beyond the confines of everything platonic?

“Okay, so, review time,” You clapped your hands, turning over to Carlos, “When did we start dating?”

Carlos scoffed, keeping his eyes on the road as he drove the both of you to your family’s home, “I am not that forgetful. May 23rd.”

“I’m just making sure that things check out,” You smacked the back of his head, eliciting a yelp from him, “How about our first date?”

“Y/N, you know I won’t let you down like that,” He glanced at you quickly before pulling up to the driveway, “I promise I won’t fuck up.”

“Sorry, they’re just so…pushy sometimes,” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair, “Just don’t let them bother you. They’re a handful.”

“A handful? Please, you’re my best friend,” Carlos grinned, a bitter feeling as the title slipped out of his mouth, “You’re a handful.”

“God, I hate you sometimes,” You sarcastically smiled, patting his cheek before getting out of the car and grabbing your gifts, “You ready, fake boyfriend?”

“You’re not ready, amor,” He teased, walking over to you and wrapping an arm around your waist, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

As you walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell twice, your mother opened the door and exclaimed, “Welcome home, my darling!”

“Oh jeez, way to greet us, mom,” You laughed, pulling her in a tight hug, “Where’s Haley?”

Haley grinned, peeking her head out from the staircase and running down to tackle you in a hug, “You’re home!”

“You’ve grown so big,” You gasped, kneeling down to her height, “What have you done to my baby sister?”

“Y/N! I’m six years old,” She whined, crossing her arms, “I am not a baby!”

“You’ll always be my baby,” You teased, kissing the top of her head and standing back up, “Mom, this is my boyfriend, Carlos.”

Carlos smiled, handing over the bottle of wine that he brought over, “Hello, Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s really nice to meet you. I brought this wine as a gift for your family.”

“Oh, how lovely, Carlos! This must be expensive,” She exclaimed, pulling the Spaniard in for a hug, “If Y/N hasn’t warned you, I’m a big hugger.”

“Definitely the opposite of your daughter,” Carlos chuckled lightly, kneeling down to Haley’s height and smiling, “Hi there, you know Y/N talks about you a lot?”

Haley lights up and smiles brightly, “She does?”

“Mhm, all the time,” Carlos smiled, pulling out a gift from behind him and handing it over to the little girl, “Merry Christmas from Santa.”

“The box is huge!” Haley gasped, picking it up and struggling as she carried it to the living room, “Carlos, come on!”

Carlos chuckled softly, standing up and kissing the side of your head before following your sister to the living room, leaving a bewildered you standing stiffly near the doorway. When did he get that gift for your sister? Why did he get that? And, Carlos paid attention to your ramblings?

“That was sweet of your man to get Haley a gift,” Your mother nudged your shoulder, dragging you to the kitchen, “Guess he’s set on winning us over.”

“He should, that’s my little girl he’s dating,” Your father turned around, setting the roasted chicken on the table, “One wrong move and I’ll hunt him down.”

“Oh jeez, this is why I don’t bring anyone home,” You groaned, helping your mother set the table, “Don’t scare him off, dad. Play nice.”

“I will, I’m just teasing,” He pulled you in for a hug, patting your back with a smile, “Nice to have you home, sweetie.”

Peering over your father’s shoulder, you couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat upon seeing Carlos and Haley opening the gift with the biggest smiles on their faces.

“Haley, return Carlos to your sister!” Your mother called out, taking her seat on the table, “It’s dinner time!”

Carlos smiled as he took a seat next to you, leaning in to whisper, “Guess I have my new favorite Y/L/N now.”

“Oh shut up, Sainz,” You playfully rolled your eyes and pinched his arm lightly, “I didn’t know you bought her a gift.”

Shrugging with a small smile, he poured the wine into your glass and replied, “It was nothing.”

You raised an eyebrow and began to eat, “Nothing you say? Haley, what’d Carlos get you?”

“The best gift ever,” Haley exclaimed with her mouth full of mashed potatoes, “New roller skates and headphones! It’s like he read my mind!”

Your mother turned to Carlos with a smile, “You didn’t need to get her such extravagant gifts, Carlos.”

“Oh, it’s just a small thing, Mrs. Y/L/N,” Carlos smiled, taking a bite of the chicken off his fork, “This food is great, Mr. Y/L/N, it’s too bad Y/N didn’t get your cooking skills.”

“All she does is just sit and wait for me to finish cooking,” Your father replied with a chuckle, taking a sip of his wine, “This wine is really good too, thanks for bringing it in.”

“Enough about food, let’s talk about you two,” Your mother gushed, turning to you with a smile, “Carlos, what do you like most about our little girl?”

“The question is what’s there not to like about her,” Carlos smiled, turning his attention to you and patting your knee gently, “I’ve been looking for love my whole life, and it was in front of me this whole time.”

“That’s just the sweetest thing ever,” Your mother replied, looking at the both of you fondly, “How long have the two of you been dating?”

“Nearly a year,” You replied nonchalantly, trying to get over what Carlos had just said, “Although, he was my best friend before he was my boyfriend.”

Carlos couldn’t help but yearn for what could have been if he had confessed to you. But, he was always afraid of losing you as his friend, which is why he settled to just being your best friend.

It wasn’t long until everyone called it a night, you felt a bit guilty for lying to your family about dating Carlos because they seemed to love him a whole lot. Especially Haley – you always had a standard that they must get along with your sister. Carlos did.

“That was an eventful dinner,” Carlos broke the silence in the car, glancing over at you, “I actually had fun. They’re great people.”

You snapped out of your daze and gave him a small smile, “Yeah, I love them. They’re a handful but I’m lucky.”

“You know your dad threatened me before we left,” He chuckled softly, keeping his eyes on the road, “He said I should take good care of you.”

Muttering under your breath, you looked out the window, “You already do.”

“Uh, Y/N, I wanted to talk about something,” Carlos said, pulling up to your apartment and turning to look at you, “It’s a bit important.”

Taking a deep breath, you looked back at him and rambled, “I like you. Wait, no. I think I love you. I know I’m an idiot for not realizing sooner, but I just saw how you were with my family, especially Haley, and I realized that I want you there. Every occasion or even no occasion! I just want you with me. Not as my best friend.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Carlos smiled to himself, running a hand through his hair, “You know you talk too much?”

“I know, I do,” You whined, “I just had to get it out of my system.”

“And, you took the words out of my mouth,” He reached over for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, “So…can this be a real thing?”

“We do have go get back to square one though,” You mumbled, looking at him, “We skipped the first date, first kiss, and all that jazz and went way ahead with spending the holida- mmph!”

Carlos leaned over to pull you in for a kiss with you melting into his touch, the two of you smiling to yourselves with the moonlight illuminating through the dashboard.

“You talk too much,” Carlos pulled away, whispering as he leaned his forehead against yours, “So…mi novia. It has a good ring to it.”

Playfully hitting his shoulder, you leaned back against the seat and covered your face, “God, I feel like a teenage girl all over again.”

“Best Christmas by far,” He grinned, mirroring your actions and sighing happily, “Santa granted my biggest wish after 3 years.”

“How adorable,” You pouted, reaching over to pinch his cheeks, “You liked me first.”

Carlos groaned, playfully rolling his eyes, “You fell for me too, anyways.”

[leoramage]

author's note: personally, you guys will never be ready when i decide to drop this sh!t one of these days

yes this is formula one x money heist au. i went batsh!t crazy on this one so you guys better tune out! am i enjoying? 100% i am. see more for a free wallpaper ฅ[⁠ᓀ⁠˵⁠▾⁠˵⁠ᓂ⁠]ฅ

Disclaimer: The photo-manipulated art featuring Carlos Sainz Jr. inspired by La Casa de Papel / Money Heist is a creative work. Reposting, sharing, or using this artwork without proper attribution or permission from the original creator may infringe on their intellectual property rights. Please seek consent before sharing or reproducing this image.

[silverstonesainz-archive]

ceilings

─── lovely to sit between comfort & chaos

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader warnings: alludes to sexual themes; google translate spanish

his touch is soft. 

his fingers dance on your skin, gentle and never haste. he takes his time tracing every dip and curve. you like the way his touch feels against you, the way it spreads warmth and love all throughout you. 

his voice is kind.

it is never loud in anger. his words are genuine, always sweet to you. it makes you feel whole, makes you feel like the only girl in the world. the roll of his tongue naturally, like honey dripping from his lips. 

he loves with every nerve ending, shows it in all he does. whether it’s in what he says to your or how he holds you, it’s always love. he makes you feel secure while he paints a picture of your future together in your mind.

he is your dream come true, all yours. 

your eyes slip open, sore from the light peeking through half closed blinds. the ceiling is plain, watching you wake up from a long night. you rub your eyes with the back of your hand before stretching them upward. soft snores are beside you, and you smile to yourself. you turn your head to find your boyfriend sleeping soundly, face half buried in the pillow with his arm slung over your torso. his lips are parted slightly, bottom lip plump and pink against the white sheets. he is golden, beautiful under the morning light. he twitches slightly, eyebrows furrowing for split second before relaxing. you turn slowly under his hold, admiring the way he looks in his slumber. peaceful, relaxed, like an angel. you didn’t want to touch, to disturb him. he’s like a piece of art in a museum, you were just there to admire. 

carlos stirs not too long after, his snores quieting all too quickly and his hold on you suddenly tightening. he pulls you to him, your fronts nearly touching. he doesn’t open his eyes, just hums softly with his lips upturned. 

“estás mirando fijamente.”  you’re staring

his voice is thick with sleep, raspy and an octave lower than normal. you blush, a giddy smile on your face as you shake your head. he hums a little louder, more amused at the sound of your head moving against the pillow. 

“te gusta lo que ves?” do you like what you see?

“si.” 

he chuckles softly, finally showing you his amber brown eyes. his lids are still heavy, but he does his best to hold them open to look at you. it’s quiet as he studies your face, admires the way you look in his arms under the the sunlight peaking through the blinds. 

“i forgot to close the curtains.” he finally says.

“that’s okay. you look pretty under this light anyways.” 

carlos sits across from you quietly, fingers wrapping around the handle of his mug as he lifts its up to his lips. he sips his coffee quietly, fingers scrolling through whatever is on his screen. breakfast is quiet, comfortable. it’s hot coffee, waffles, and blueberries. he loves blueberries in the morning. he reads and you sit and watch, falling for the way his bottom lip is jutted outwards and the little crease between his thick brows. he pays no mind to you, just reading and sipping his coffee.

“quieres más café?” do you want more coffee?

he shakes his head, setting his now empty mug down. he clicks his phone lock and looks up at you across the table.

“estás muy lejos. ven aquí, cariño.”   you’re so far away. come over here, lover.

carlos reaches for your hand on the table, tugging you gently off your seat. you cave easily, taking quick steps around the table and onto his lap. his hands wrap around your waist, holding you securely against him. you hook one arm around the back oh his neck, while your other hand rests on his jaw. quiet stares, sweet smiles, two lovers admiring the other. it’s a moment you would sear into your mind. the look in his eyes is unmistakeable, it’s love in it’s purest form. his eyes glow, they are accompanied by a toothy smile. his cheeks are round, rosy, nose leaning in to nudge yours. your heart skips a beat the close proximity, the way the ghost of his lips tickle yours. you try to close the space, but he leans his head back before you can kiss him. 

you whine softly, “bésame.” 

he chuckles, chest rumbling under your touch. he leans in again, nose nudging and lips hovering over yours. it’s still for a moment, his eyes flickering up and down to gage your reaction. neither of you breathe, not a single muscle moves. 

you whine again, but he kisses you quiet this time. he tastes of coffee and mint toothpaste. carlos’s lips are soft against your own, they move slowly, sensually. it lights every single nerve ending of yours ablaze. one of his hands slide down your thigh, squeezing softly, while the other rests on the curve of your bum. you hold his face, pulling him even closer as you kiss him. his tongue is soft, gentle as it draws a line along your bottom lip, beckoning to be let in. your lips part, tongues dancing. nothing is urgent, no hurry, just enjoying the feeling kissing the other person. 

there is no rush to peel clothes off the other, no rush to be as near as you could be. his touches— his movements— are slow. it’s an outpour of love, a reminder of how well he knows every tick and every move to quicken your pulse. your lips sing praises of him, his favorite song, saved for his ears only. 

in a mess of sheets, clammy skin pressed against the other, you can’t help but stare at the man next you. his eyes are closed, lips parted, chest rising and falling as he pants softly. you press a kiss to his chest, and you feel him vibrate under you. 

“te amo.” you mumble.

“te amo más.” he utters back.

“imposible.” 

you grin, looking up at him. he cranes his neck, trying to get a view of you sprawled over him. his smile is your favorite thing in the world, the way it pulls your heart further and further into him. 

“en qué estás pensando?” what are you thinking about?

you think of waking up to him in ten years. and in twenty years. thirty years too. you picture kids jumping into bed with you, and grandkids giggling all through out the house. you imagine carlos with salt and pepper hair, thick and long, crows feet and smile lines because he’s just so happy with the life he’s led.

you shake your head instead, “nada. solo estoy feliz.”  nothing. i’m just happy.

carlos slips your shirt over your head, holding the shirt wide so you have room to slip your arms through the sleeves. lunch is an afterthought when he drives you through madrid with his hand on your thigh. the radio hums softly in the background, accompanying light hearted conversation. carlos talks, rambles on and on over something you don’t understand. he’d lift his hand off your thigh for a moment to make a gesture, because he always talks with his hand. but he’d always put it back like it belonged there. and he kisses you at red lights, between conversation. his tone fluctuates with excitement, giggles between rushed and stumbled words. you could listen to him forever. you want to listen to him forever.

there’s a park on the opposite side of town from where you stay. it’s small, but there’s a bench that faces the expanse of land, a perfect view to watch people move about their day while you sit idly by. you and carlos let the hours tick by, fingers intertwined and resting in your lap. you fill the air with stories, some of which he had missed while being on the road. you make him laugh every now and again. the kind that’s pitched, soft ha’s, with the bridge of his nose scrunched up because his smile is so wide. and every time he does, you look up at him. you wonder if he sees the same look in your eyes that you see in his. the same glow of adoration, the same warmth, a sense of welcoming and home. 

there is a moment of quiet, when all the stories are shared and the laughter subsides. your head rests on his shoulder as the two of you watch kids run in the grass and couples stroll by. you watch the way the world pays no mind to two lovers who spend their time sitting in silence. the world keeps spinning, people keep walking, and you and carlos sit and watch it all.

dinner is takeout eaten at home. carlos complains while you pick at his sushi, but he makes no effort to stop you. and when dinner is done, you wash dishes quietly while he takes out the trash. it is domestic bliss as the two of you bring the house together, ready for you to whisk through it all over again tomorrow. you shower together. he scrubs your back with a loofa, and you rub suds on his chest. it’s intimate, sweet, chaste kisses between bubbles and water. he squeezes toothpaste from the middle of the tube, and you scold him for it. 

he climbs into bed first, pulling back the covers for you to join him. he waits patiently, watching as you switch all the lights off, but leave the blinds open. the moon coats your room in blue, giving you enough light to find your way to bed. carlos pulls the covers over you, pulling you close so that your chest is against his own.

“te amo,” he whispers.

“will you tell me again in the morning?”

“siempre. por el resto de mi vida..” always. for the rest of my life.

his fingers comb through your hair, rubbing against your scalp. his scent, his touch, his soft hums lull you to sleep. it’s dreamless, dark, an endless world of empty. you feel your heart fall apart in your slumber. piece by piece, it breaks beneath your chest as you slowly slip back into your reality.

your eyes slip open, sore from the tears you shed the night before. the ceiling is plain, it mocks you and your dreams of a man who hasn't been in your bed in months. you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that you could slip back into a false sense of security painted by your imagination. but you’re only met with darkness. your eyes spring open, tears blur your vision again. you cry softly, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you turn over in your empty bed. the curtains are drawn shut, not a sliver of the day behind it slipping through. you lay broken, crying quietly with your four walls and ceiling listening to the tune of your sadness. it’s a song you play all alone, lyrics written by the man who broke you. 

you cry until your tears run dry and it’s just your soft whimpers. you liked crying sometimes, because if you’re lucky enough you are lulled back to sleep and into a world where carlos was still with you. it doesn’t happen this time though. instead you stare at the space once occupied by the man you loved, imagining he was still snoring softly beside you.

breakfast is at noon. it’s half drunk coffee and blueberries you push around with a fork. you don’t like blueberries all that much anymore. they were never your favorite to begin with, but you had yet to break the habit of buying them. 

you sit on the couch until the sunsets, mind trying to piece together the dream you had the night before. you try to remember his smile, the way his eyes light up when they are looking at you. you try to hear his laughter, his soft voice while telling a story you can’t even recall. you desperately try to remember him, and it leaves you in a mess of tears. memories slip through your grasp, like grains of sand in a tightly wound fist. the tighter you hold, the more it slips away. you try to place the last touch, the last kiss, the last kind word, but nothing comes to you. it’s a mess of agony and heartbreak, with only the memory of the end of your relationship at the forefront of it all. it’s only touches that were sparse, words laced in regret, and the image of him walking away from you. nothing else seemed to take precedent, just a torturous nightmare playing over and over. 

you slip into bed with curtains still drawn tightly after brushing your teeth. a tube of toothpaste squeezed in the middle rests by your sink.

your mind wanders to carlos, wondering how he moves on in the world while you lay idly by in your sadness. you stare at the ceiling and it stares back. it watches your pain, the way it’s etched itself into every nerve in your body. pain doesn’t become you,  it dulls you down, but it is all consuming. it’s a weed that wraps around you, hides your from the world and keeps you in your wallowing. 

tears fall down your face, breaths broken by your cries as you slip into another stream of sobs. you mourn your broken heart that lays in your chest, for a love lost and no longer yours. you cry at the ceiling, and it listens. 

NOTE: this idea has been rotting away in my mind for a while and i finally found it in me to write it. semi based on ceilings by lizzy mcalpine bc i can't get the song out of my head. i hope you enjoyed this on & as always, feedback is always appreciated.

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[libraryofloveletters]

Written In The Book of Faith

Carlos Sainz Jr x Fem!Reader 

Warnings: lando being the most annoying little brother/friend, Carlos and lando playfully bullying each other, a bit of sadness, right person wrong time, a mix of fluff and angst, reconnection at the end.  

Word Count: 3.1k

Author’s Note: based off that trend on tiktok with the quotes that match the couples + despite the title, there are no religious ties/symbolism in this fic at all. -- also idk what this really is, I started writing and here we are. 

---- 

Act One: The most beautiful part is, I wasn’t even looking when I found you. - 2019, McLaren. 

“C’mon!” Lando pulled you ahead of his brother and his girlfriend, the younger Norris wanting to show you around the building.Lando’s sister in law, Savannah, was your best friend, hence how you ended up at the McLaren hospitality building on one of the busiest weekends. 

Silverstone was the home race, not only for the team but McLaren’s very own Lando Norris. 

“Oh! Carlos!” The younger driver shouts, his Spanish counterpart turns and smiles when he sees his teammate. “Mate! Why are we shouting?!” He teased, walking over to where the 4 of you stood. 

“Carlos, you know my brother and his girlfriend but this is Savannah's best friend, y/n. She’s joining us today.” 

You turn your attention to the driver across from you; fluffy brown hair, tanned skin, pink lips that pull your focus, only to be offset by the big brown eyes staring back at you. 

“Y/n, this is Carlos Sainz, my teammate.” Lando introduces the two of you and he sticks his hand out, “nice to meet you.” He smiles as your hand meets his. Carlos lets go of your hand and the loss of touch felt as if someone replaced his hand with an ice cube. 

Carlos’s eyes fixed on you, admiring the blue dress you had on and the way it fit you like it was made just for you. He smiled as his eyes met yours once more. 

“We’ve got to go,” Lando says linking, arms with you, your attention is pulled from the Spaniard across from you. 

“Stop looking at her like that,” He says to Carlos and pulls you away. Both you and Carlos go red, rolling your eyes at the younger driver. 

The day went by quicker than expected, the three of you watched the race from the McLaren garage and the rest went reasonably well for Carlos. He came in P6 and Lando came in P11. After post race debriefs and media, you all headed back to the hotel to clean up and have dinner. 

The hotel restaurant is fancier than usual, Lando wasn’t in the mood for fancy. The younger driver was like your little brother and somehow always got you to side with him. “Can we ditch?” The boy leans over and asks you but you shake your head, “your brother wanted to come here so Savannah is making us stay.” 

“No, C’mon.” He groans. “Let’s go get some pizza.” Lando says. 

At that moment, it's like Lando’s saviour walked into the room. Carlos, along with Rupert and his cousin, Caco, walked in. “Carlos!” Lando waved him over and he turned, making a beeline to the table you were at. 

“Muppet!” Carlos ruffled his hair, “what’s up?” 

“Join us,” he says, nodding towards the seat next to you. “No, I couldn't intrude.” He says, Rupert and Caco already in their own conversation with Savannah and Oliver at the table. The two of them have sat down already, it was only Carlos that was putting up a fuss. 

Shifting in your seat, you look back at Carlos, “it’s not an intrusion if we’re inviting you.” You nod towards the seat beside you since the other two had been filled. “Sit, please.” 

Lando leans forward, glancing at you two. “Oh when I ask, you said no but let y/n ask and all of a sudden you’re okay to sit.” He teased his teammate and Carlos reached behind you to pinch Lando’s shoulder which shut him up. 

His arm remained on your chair, resting there for a while as the waiter came around to take your orders. 

Despite Lando's efforts to make conversation with two of you, you and Carlos were wrapped up with your own conversation the entire night. Without the pressure of race day, and Lando pulling you two away from each other, it turns out you have a lot in common; you're both the oldest of three siblings, both career driven, both extremely playful and loved to have fun away from the pressure of life. 

“Are you joining us ?” Savannah called for you from across the table. “Joining you for?” You asked, not completely paying attention to what she was saying. 

“Germany, in two weeks. They’ve got a race.” 

“Oh, I couldn’t intrude. You’ve been kind enough to bring me along this weekend.” 

Carlos nudges you, “it’s not an intrusion if we’re inviting you.” He says, mirroring your words back to you. “Come as my guest then, Lando’s boring anyways.” He smiles at you. 

“Hey!” Lando groans. 

You can feel Carlos’ eyes on you as you speak to Savannah, the man studying you like he had to write a test. Memorizing your every feature; the way you smile, the curve of your lips, the bridge of your nose, the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks. 

The night wrapped up shortly after, all of you would be going home on Tuesday and then leaving for Germany the following Monday. You and Savannah decided you’d go out for a bit, grab a drink or two before calling it a night.  

Another outfit change was needed so you two left the boys at the restaurant and headed up. 

Carlos’s eyes follow you out the doors of the restaurant. The smile on his face was undeniable. “I see the way you look at her,” Lando whispers to his friend. 

He looks at the English driver, “what ?” 

Lando might be oblivious most of the time, but he wasn’t that blind. He could see that his teammate took a liking to you. 

“Ask her for her number,” He suggests, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “What? No. I barely know her, that’ll be really weird.” Carlos huffs to the younger man next to him. 

“How else are you supposed to get to know her?” He asks, “by staring at her like a creep?” Lando turns to face his friend and Carlos rolls his eyes. 

“Shut up, Lando.” 

Lando ignores Carlos’ nonsense, fully well knowing that his friend liked his other friend. Though Lando would never admit it, he liked cheesy romances and if he could play his part as the matchmaker in this one, he would absolutely do it. 

Carlos’s phone sat on the table, unlocked. 

The idea popped into his head as he reached for the phone. Lando typed in the number, adding your name to it. He set the phone back down in front of Carlos. He looks over at the phone and then back at Lando. 

“Is that..” “Her number? Yeah, don’t be stupid. Use it.” 

The boys split up and decided to go their separate ways for the night. Carlos says that he's gonna run upstairs and get his car keys before they head out. 

The phone in his hand as he headed to the elevator, he couldn’t help but look at the number. He glances at himself in the reflection of the elevator doors and decides to click the number. The line rings a few times before you pick up, “hello?” 

“Hi, it's uh- it’s Carlos.” 

“Oh hey!” You smiled, “what’s up?” You grabbed your bag as you stepped out of your room. 

Carlos stepped into the elevator, “nothing, headed up to get my keys. You?” 

You walked to the elevator, you hit the button when you realized the strap on your heel was undone. “Oh, Savannah and I are going out for drinks.” 

“I hope this isn’t too forward of me,” he pauses, glancing up at the numbers above the doors. You were fiddling with the strap and finally getting it into the loop when you stood back up. 

“I’d like to take you out, on a date. Like a proper date.” He finally speaks. 

“So Lando wouldn’t third wheel?” You laughed, looking at your reflection in the elevator doors as you tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

“Just us, no Lando.” He smiled. 

The elevator ding ran through both sides of the call and the doors opened. 

You and Carlos are face to face. 

His big brown eyes meet yours, and even under the horrible orangish lighting of the elevator, she can make out every single curve and line on his face. Carlos smiles at you, your previously pink lipgloss replaced with red lipstick that brought every freckle and feature on your face to life.

“So what do you think?” He asked into the phone despite being across from you. 

Nodding, you smile once more. Something you found yourself doing often in his presence. “I'd like that.” 

Act Two: Maybe we were meant to meet, but not to be. - 2020, McLaren. 

Life works in funny ways. 

You met this wonderful man, one who made you laugh and smile, cry tears of happiness, held your hand and hugged you when you needed support. You did the same for him but as the days went on, the distance between you two grew. 

More and more, the distance made you realize that you two just weren't meant to be. 

The teabag spun in the cup as you twirled the string. “This is it?” You ask him, looking across the kitchen at the man.

Carlos looked at you, the sadness written across his face was enough to make a grown man cry. “I guess it is.” He says quietly, saying it any louder would break him. 

“It’s what’s best.” You tell him, walking over. Your face to face with him, his hand reaching for you. “For who, mi amor?” 

Carlos's eyes are teary, you pressed your lips together and looked away from him, because one more moment looking at him would have broken you. “We can’t keep doing this, Carlos.” A hand comes up to rest on his cheek, he nods softly. 

“I know but..” 

“Please, don’t make this harder than it is.” You whisper to him. 

From the moment you met him, you knew he was the right person for you; this man was your soulmate but it was the wrong time. You were in different stages of your life. Carlos was leaving McLaren, moving to Ferrari which was his dream. You had just gotten your dream job, you couldn't just up and leave any week you felt like joining him. 

It wasn’t enough for you two to make it work. 

It was time to call things quits before you both ended up more hurt than you wanted to be. 

Stability was needed to make a relationship work and this wasn’t that. It was almost impossible for this to work.

Carlos pulls you against him, holding you close as he wraps his arms around you. “Te quiero mucho.” He whispers to you, his voice quiet. 

You hum in response, nodding. “I love you.” 

He held you for a few more moments, his arms squeezing you tightly like this was the last time because it was. You walked him to the door, Carlos held your hand, smiling at you as you two stood in the doorway. 

“Anytime you need me, I'm here.” He says to you and you nod, “me too. I’ll be watching.” You give him a smile and he pulls you in for one last hug, kissing your temple softly. 

“Okay go, you need to get on your flight.” You give him a light push. Carlos steps out, walking to the elevator. You watch from the doorway as he steps on and then turns to face the doors. 

He gives you a small smile. I love you, he mouths to you and you nod, holding back tears as you pull your lips together. 

Me too, you mouth back, a hand over your heart. 

Act Three: I don’t know what we are, but I miss what we were. - 2022, Ferrari. 

It’s been two years since you’ve seen him. Life has gone on, it’s not the same but it’s gone on because that’s what it does. 

Time doesn’t wait for anyone. 

Work brought you to London, you had a few days before you had to leave and you were meeting up with Lando, Oliver, Savannah and their baby girl for dinner later that afternoon. 

The weekend had been hectic, between work and the race, you hadn't had much time to actually work on the stuff you needed for when you got back. Hence why you found yourself in the coffee shop, nursing a now cold latte as you clicked away on your laptop. 

You took up a very small corner table at the back, you sat with your back to the crowd, your eyes fixed on the screen in front of you when you heard the person speak. 

Surely, you heard wrong. 

Must have, because you glanced over your shoulder and you didn’t see anyone you recognized. You went back to your work, scrolling through the files in search of the one you needed when you felt someone tap your shoulder. Finally, you turn around to see who it was and it turns out, you did hear correctly. 

“I thought that was you,” he says, a smile that pulls on your heart strings plastered on his face. 

“Carlos,” you let out a breath, smiling at the man.

He looked the same; same unruly brown hair, big brown eyes, pouty lips. Except he looked a bit older, mature so to speak. His stubble covered his jaw, a green sweater clinging to his shoulders as he stood in front of you.

“Can I...” he trails off and glances at the seat across from you. You breathe an oh and gesture to the seat, shifting to sit properly and he settles in. 

The cup had something black in it and by the smell of it, coffee. Some things don’t change. 

“You changed your hair, almost didn’t recognize you.” He says, sipping the black coffee. 

The long hair you once had now replaced by a shorter cut, the hair sat in curls on your shoulders. You didn’t change at all, hadn’t aged a day he thought. Must have been taking care of yourself. 

He tried to subtly ask Lando how you were ever so often, late night stalking led him to Savannah’s Instagram page in hopes of catching a glimpse of you; he always hoped you were happy. 

Carlos never knew you did the same but with Lando. You always checked up on him quietly; it was the little things, looking for him in the other drivers’ stories or posts, following his name up and down the leaderboard during the races. 

He was your soulmate; right person, wrong time unfortunately. 

“What brings you to London ?” Carlos asks after a minute. You shut your laptop, looking at him now. “Work, but also the race.” 

“Ah,” he smiles, “you were there? At Silverstone?” 

“I was.” 

“I didn’t see you.” 

“You know I don’t take much space, don’t capture the attention of the public quite like a Ferrari driver.” You joked, earring a smile. “Congratulations.” You say to him and Carlos’ brows pulled together like he had forgotten the momentous weekend he had. 

“Your maiden pole.. and your win? You were fantastic.” 

He smiles at you once more, “thank you. Did you watch the podium or were you hidden away like you always are?” 

“No,” you chuckled, reminded of his McLaren days when you always found yourself in the back of the garage, away from the view of the public. “I was there, watched you cross the line and everything.” You tell him. 

Carlos reaches over the table, his hand rests on yours. “It means a lot that you were there.” 

“You didn’t know I was.” Your eyes find his. “I did always say you were my lucky charm, didn’t I? Life works in mysterious ways, amor.” 

And that it does. 

Out of all the places to bump into him, a coffee shop in central London wasn’t on your list. 

There’s comfortable silence between the two of you. The hustling and noise of the coffee shop fizzled away as if you two were in your own little bubble. The phone on the table buzzes. 

From Lando: pick you up at 6?

You pick it up and type back a response. 

To Lando: Make it 6:15, headed back to the hotel now. 

From Lando: sounds good. 

“I should get going,” you tell him, slipping your laptop into your bag as you get up. Carlos mirrors your actions, standing. “Let me walk you out, I'm heading out too.” 

His hand rested on your lower back as he led you out of the busy cafe. The touch sent a shiver up your spine, it was as if nothing had changed; the touch was so natural as was the way you leaned into it. 

“Which way are you headed?” He asks and you nod to the right. “I’m the other way,” he tells you. 

“Well, it was nice to see you.” You say and Carlos reaches for you, pulling you into a hug. You lean into the man, he instinctively wraps his arms around you a little tighter. 

Just the two of you once again. 

“I really do need to go,” you whisper to him and he hums, rubbing your back softly before he takes a step back. 

Old memories bubbling up onto the surface and any more time together, the two of you would be in tears.  

“Hold on!” Carlos says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out what looked like a crumpled up receipt. He’s feeling his pockets but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for. 

“What?” You look at him, “do you have a pen?” He asks and you peek into your bag before pulling one out. 

The man scribbles something down on the paper and hands it over to you, along with the pen. Nine numbers scrawled on the back of a receipt. “In case you're in Madrid,” he says, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Call me.” 

The number on the paper was the same it had always been; the same number you had memorized since you met him. 

“Okay.” You nod, tucking it into your bag with the pen. 

“Okay.” He nods, the two of you lingering in the street outside of the coffee shop. His brown eyes meet yours, “goodbye y/n.” He says quietly. 

“Goodbye Carlos.” 

---- 

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