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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 3 days

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No Hard Feelings - Carlos Sainz Jr

Dark fic 18+ - if you don't like this or the warnings/themes make you uncomfortable. I can't stress this enough, DO NOT READ THIS

Summary: Lewis said there's no hard feelings between them. These things happen in life. So when Lewis' girlfriend just so happens to cheat on him with Carlos, there's no hard feelings there either? After all these things happen.

Sidenote: There is some sweet and genuinely caring moments from Carlos but his motive is still to hurt Lewis.

Warnings/themes: Manipulation/coercion, cheating, smut, revenge, very naive!reader

No part 2 requests please

The world knows Carlos is hurting and he's on a mission to get another seat before the end of the season, preferably before the end of the month would be great but that's fairly optimistic.

Really he knows he can't blame Lewis. But the feelings of hatred and rage that fill him when he sees the Brit are surely warranted. He would've had that contract in the bag if it wasn't for that twat. All he needed was for Ferrari to keep him that one season before 2026 and his Audi contract was there. Could Lewis not have just waited?

Now Carlos is aware that bringing an innocent bystander into the mess and drama of F1 isn't fair. Especially when that said bystander is Lewis' girlfriend.

Y/n y/l/n.

Oh she's perfect. Young, innocent, a real sweetheart.

Not really the type most would imagine Lewis going for. He's usually after the bold, confident and loud type. Y/n is very softly spoken and her sweet nature seems to make her almost Bambi-like, which couldn't make her anymore of a perfect match for Carlos really.

Carlos has spoken to her enough times that he thinks it's safe to say they're friends, she's so polite and seems to just have perfected how to be the perfect woman. At least in Carlos' opinion.

So he'd really like to have her for himself.

And as if y/n was summoned by the universe to help his plan along.

"Y/n, hey." Carlos greets jogging to catch up with the young woman.

"Hi, Carlos." Y/n grins always happy to just be alongside anyone.

"Where's Lewis?"

"Oh, he's not here today. He's actually sort of ill so he's been excused from media duties for the day." Y/n smiles sadly making him frown. "I know I shouldn't be here, but he's not very nice when he's sick and he said I was getting in the way and smothering him. So...I just though I'd be alright coming here."

Is the universe finally favouring him? This is too perfect.

"That's not very nice of him." Carlos frowns making her shrug. "You can spend the day with me if you want, get a sneak peak at Ferrari."

"I don't know..." Y/n winces trying to be polite but clearly she's trying to be smart.

"Come on, I promise you will be in such a good mood by the end of the day. You have my word." Carlos states making her sigh before she groans and tilts her head for a moment. "Come on, it will be fun. I promise."

"Mmm..." Y/n smiles before seeming to move over with a small nod and smile. "Ok. It does sound like you're making big promises though."

"Ah, don't doubt me though. I will follow through on it." Carlos grins watching her mirror his expression.

Y/n really wasn't sure what to expect but Carlos really pulled out all the stops, he got her a jacket when she was cold, he let her sit in the Ferrari which was her first time ever getting to sit in an F1 car and he made sure she was eating.

"You should come to dinner with me." Carlos states as they finally reach the end of the day.

"Now I might really be pushing it." Y/n giggles since she is sure Lewis will be asking questions. The man can be quite jealous but equally, he's the one who was mean enough for her to feel like she needed to leave.

"We have to a have proper ending to our day." Carlos smiles then deciding that he may need to pull in aid. "If you don't want it to be just us then we could bring Lando? He's never got plans."

"He doesn't?"

"No." Carlos nods before pausing. "I will go double check and then we can figure out where we're going."

"No. No. It's fine. We're adults." Y/n states shaking her head quickly.

Carlos looks at her for a moment because it really seems like she's trying to convince herself that this is all fine more than himself.

When they get to dinner, Carlos is watching her carefully uncertain of what she's going to do but while at first she was pretty talkative and eager then toward the end she's gone quiet and seems at a bit of a loss.

"Dessert?" Carlos making her hesitant since they did ask for dessert menus and y/n initially looked really eager but something changes.

"No. I'm full. Thank you though." Y/n smiles closing the menu. "Need to stop my eyes being too big for my belly."

"What if we split it? That way you still get dessert but you don't have to feel too full."

"Ok, that sounds good." Y/n nods biting her lip a little.

And so they get a cheesecake of her choice before splitting it, though Carlos make sure it's slightly more than him.

"I'll walk you back." Carlos states making her smile at him.

"You're very sweet."

"You think?"

"Yes." Y/n mumbles almost shyly while Carlos links their hands and smiles brightly at her, especially watching her get a little flustered over his action.

"You know...I could treat you very good." Carlos states deciding to just put it out there. "I think we'd be good together."

Y/n can't even manage an "oh" she's just stunned to silence but Carlos picked his moment well and she's left at Lewis' hotel door with a kiss on her cheek and Carlos walking away leaving his words to marinate.

Y/n stands at the hotel door for long enough that George appears and knocks her to her senses.

"You alright?" George chuckles noticing her completely out of it.

"Y-Yeah, just...tired and Lewis is ill so I don't know if I want to go back in there." Y/n smiles before she swallows thickly and looks at him for a moment. "I'll see you tomorrow, Georgie."

"Bye, y/n." George smiles though when she steps into the room he sighs shaking his head.

In a fairly universal opinion, Lewis and y/n are ill-matched to say the least. While Lewis is a kind, caring and happy man, he's not good at handling y/n's slightly younger and much more naive personality. It's not that they're a bad couple, it's just any time you see them it feels wrong that they're together.

"Lewis?" Y/n calls walking into the hotel room to find him up and seemingly ready for a workout. "What's...going on?"

"I feel better, I was going to hit the gym. Are you coming?"

"O-Oh yeah, I'll join in." Y/n nods before she finds him walking towards her, inked hands cupping her face.

"I'm sorry for earlier, it wasn't nice to be horrible to you when you were just trying to help me feel better." Lewis sighs quickly pecking her lips. "What did you do all day?"

"I...I went to the paddock, just kept myself busy. A few of the other drivers noticed I was on my own so they kept me company a bit."

"That's nice."

"Yeah...Anyway, I'll just change then we can go." Y/n mumbles making him smile and kiss her again.

Carlos had been in her head, and every time she saw him he was already looking at her. The internal panic was like a fire in her chest.

Somehow her attempts at avoiding him were nothing but failure and she found herself almost constantly bumping into him, small touches on her waist were making her focus far too much. Somehow he'd even managed to get close enough to be whispering in her ear.

Carlos has gotten more ballsy and unapologetic in his attempts to get in her head and much to her shame, it's very effective.

It's even earned Lewis' attention and he's not exactly happy about it.

So confronting Carlos was hard, and she had to do it when Lewis was guaranteed to be busy. So...while he's asleep.

Creeping out the hotel and moving around to get herself to Carlos' hotel and then to his room isn't exactly a simple task but she manages it, knocking on his door for a few minutes before Carlos appears very much freshly awoken and half naked.

"Y/n?" Carlos smirks clearly feeling fairly amused by her presence. "What can I help you with?"

"You-you have to stop. Lewis is getting upset. You-You whisper in my ear and you're always touching me." Y/n stresses walking in the room as he slowly closes the door walking to follow her but with her back turns, he takes the opportunity.

"Do you tell him what I say?" Carlos questions making her swallow as he pulls her back against himself, hands holding her tightly as he moves a hand up to her neck gently tipping her head back as he kisses her neck.

"N-No."

"What do you think he'd say if he knew?"

Y/n doesn't even get a word out.

"You're not even trying to stop me, y/n. I bet if I got you on that bed or bent you over, you'd let me have whatever I want from you." Carlos state while she whimpers.

He's been waiting, slowly making her want him and while she thinks she's been making the effort to avoid him. He's noticed her constantly looking for him.

"You can't even force yourself to say no." Carlos chuckles before he decides to be quick, there is still the risk of her coming to her sense. Her morals may have yet to risk to the surface and only be delayed by jet lag.

He's got her underdressed kneeling on the sofa, resting her arms on the back in less than a minute. Wasting time is not going to be on his agenda for finally hitting the nail into the coffin of winning her over. Or if no winning her over then at least ending the relationship between her and Lewis.

"What do you want?" Carlos questions making her stutter on a breath.

"I-I want you."

"Good. Because you've got me." Carlos smirks running his hand down between her legs and feeling enough wetness to be more accurately called a waterfall.

Usually he'd be one to indulge in foreplay but on this occasion he's still not aiming to waste time. Plus he can always enjoy that part in the morning. He intends for her to find it a struggle to get out of bed anyway.

"Carlos." Y/n whimpers, her body pliable with his touch and when he pushes into her.

He know his reasons for doing this are less than flattering on his character, but he ever thought his name could ever sound that good from her lips. She's already pulsing around him from the sudden intrusion but he can't wait to give her time to adjust as much as he wants to.

The feeling of her wrapped around him so tightly. An unhinged feral side to him, as if her can't get deep enough or far enough into her. His hands surely have a bruising grip on her waist but her moans aren't giving away any pain. At least no pain that isn't at least accompanied by equal amounts of pleasure.

Y/n is drown by her orgasm, her body rigid as every nerve ending is hit with an amount of pleasure they leaves her spasming around him. Only Carlos isn't nearly done and he won't allow himself the finish until he feels like y/n is at least half way to gone.

He wants her half way to a lost voice and unaware of her surroundings.

Y/n body begins to try and squeeze her thigh together in an attempt to control herself in some way, only for Carlos' hand to come down, lifting her and forcing them apart, earning a moan as one hand reaches further brushing her clit which sends a shoot of electricity through her. The quickly tightening reaction around his cock only making him push deeper into her. Her voice getting lost as she tries to find some way to ground herself, nails actually poking holes into the upholstery.

She's only halfway recovered from her first orgasm when Carlos sits moving her over to straddle him before practically slamming her down on himself.

"Carlos." Y/n pants the fullness from a new angle whines a hand going up to his thick locks, a slight burn of his scalp from the tugging but it only adds to that lack of control he's maintaining over himself. He really can't help the brutal pace he's setting for both of them.

He actually thinks he could go all night when she cums again, the wetness almost enough to be splashing them both.

By the time he has her on the bed, she's about folded in half and the puffiness of her pussy from his unending appetite is beginning to feel addictive. The position gives him all access to rubbing and pinching her clit while leaning down and kissing, marking and Another orgasm that seems to be bordering on the fine line of pleasure and pain from overstimulation makes her moan in a way that sends him over the edge.

When he cums he feels her absolutely milking it from him before he finally releases her legs still feeling her spasm around him in the aftershocks of her orgasm.

"Ah ah." Y/n winces as Carlos slowly eases out of her.

The sight of his cum leaking out of her is almost enough to get him hard again but he manages to tear his gaze from her pussy up to her face, leaning over her and capturing her in a kiss that she eagerly and needily returns.

Y/n is in a coating of sweat, quite similar to himself.

"Can you get up?" Carlos asks making her wince just at the though.

A very weak nod is managed in answer before she finds herself gently pulled up and very much held tightly as he supports her weight, getting them both into the shower where he cleans her up with a much more soft touch than she'd just been treated with.

Neither discussed the matter of their actions, y/n is very much latched onto him as she sleeps. Her hold on him almost impressive.

Carlos sighs playing with her strands of hair as she sleeps against him.

She really is the most innocent and sweet young woman. Although he can't possibly erase the image of her only hours ago. Her whole body is washed of the physical memory, unless you count the bruises from his hands. Was he really holding her that tightly?

His alarm went off a few minutes ago, but pulling himself away from the very much unconscious young woman is proving to be harder than he expected. Eventually he manages it with some detangling of her limbs and replacing himself with his pillows.

She stirs but not enough to wake and he showers quickly before dressing. He can't even stop himself from leaning over and stealing a kiss before going to leave, only...for an idea to pop into his mind. An evil one but an idea nonetheless.

Taking y/n's hotel card and putting her clothes under the mattress of the second bed. He wants her to be left with no options to be spotted.

Stealing joggers and being left with only an option of Ferrari branded clothes, y/n is hiccuping in a meltdown of tears and with her phone left in Lewis' room to make sure he couldn't find her. She's at a loss of things she can do.

Y/n pulls the hood up and uses stolen sunglasses to hide her face as much as possible but Charles of everyone spots and recognises her.

"Y/n! Where have you-"

Y/n's hand slaps over his mouth with a hissing shush ass he pushes him back between two units.

"Where is Lewis?" Y/n whispers making Charles look at her. "Oh for-Where's Carlos?"

"Why do you want-oh." Charles winces as he connections the dots of the silent question he'd wanted to ask about her choice of CS55 mercy. "Y/n..."

"Charles please. I just-I need to dodge Lewis and find Carlos." Y/n hiccups making him sigh. He really does not want to be involved in any drama between his present and future teammates, but y/n's desperation is pulling on his heart strings.

"Carlos is in the unit. Come with me." Charles nods offering his hand and pulling her quickly while she continues to try and hang herself.

He's takes her to Carlos' room where the other Ferrari driver is working out.

"You have a guest, I found her running through the paddock." Charles states catching attention from the Spaniard who stands up smiling at y/n with not apology in his expression. "I do not want to be involved."

"Amor, you look quite a sight." Carlos chuckles pulling the sunglasses off of her while Charles makes his exits after his very clear statement.

"Carlos, what-what we did-Lewis is going to be so upset."

"I see...you want to stay with him." Carlos sighs sadly, withdrawing from holding her making her lip tremble. "I will find you something to wear. He has been looking for you, asking everyone to be on the look out for you. You should speak with him."

"No-I-" Y/n chokes out, her panic in her voice very evident. Emotions overwhelming her but Carlos helps her out of the Ferrari hoodie and into an all white one.

"You should go. Lewis wants to see you and know you're ok."

"Carlos, please." Y/n sniffles trying to reach for him but he catches her hand between both of her own and gently pushes it back.

"See him. If last night is all I get with you, I understand and I respect that." Carlos states making her look at him for a moment before she rubs her eyes with the sleeves. "You can keep the joggers and hoodie."

There's hurt, he's hurting her but really he knows she'll be back. Not because of the sex but because he can see she's caught feelings for him even when she knows she should love someone else. At some point, and most likely soon it will come to a point that she can't keep lying to herself or to Lewis.

Lewis somehow bought the story that y/n had gone sleep walking and been found by another hotel goer who took her in for the night. A sweet old lady who'd apparently had a few drinks and was feeling charitable. Though she couldn't look Charles in the eye again since the only time she did while it being obvious that she'd gone back to Lewis and lied, he was not impressed with her for it.

Carlos however, she's even been caught in 4k looking at him longingly with tearful eyes.

Lewis has noticed things have been off with y/n, but it's only triggered jealousy from him. More possessiveness and a constant hovering over her. Thankfully when she lied about being on her period to try and dodge sex so he didn't spot the bruises from her night with Carlos, he didn't even question it.

It's almost amusing for Carlos to watch knowing that he's the threat and yet Lewis is under the false understanding that there is still no hard feelings between them.

Y/n sighs as she dips a carrot into some humous, watching Lewis and Roscoe on his sofa as Lewis looks at something on his phone the breaking point hits.

"I cheated on you." Y/n states breaking the silence which had otherwise been filled by Roscoe's heavy breathing.

"You what?" Lewis laughs not even believing that someone could cheat on him.

"I'm sorry...I tried to lie-I did lie. I've lied and I'm so sorry. But I can't keep doing this." Y/n mumbles shaking her head as tears well up. "I should've told you the truth from the moment it happened."

"When did it happen?"

"When...I went missing...I didn't sleep walk, I waited till you were asleep and I left."

Lewis just looks at her clearly visibly shocked.

"So what do you want?" Lewis questions making her look at him for a moment. "You want to leave."

"I'm sorry Lewis..."

"You should go then." Lewis states which makes her swallow thickly. "Do you need me to arrange a flight?"

"No. I'll handle it. I'll figure out a way to come get my stuff at some point too."

Lewis is far too old to be making public statements about a break up. He doesn't think his personal life is anything to do with the fans or public anyway.

Y/n disappeared anyway, and honestly it was hard seeing all her stuff laying around apartment while he waits for it to eventually disappear.

"I don't know if it's a good idea." Y/n mumbles as she sits in Carlos' house that is far from Monaco but instead near Madrid instead.

"I want you at the next race. I want you there. Who cares what other people have to say about it?" Carlos frowns then cupping her face. "I'm happy to finally have you for myself, amor. I want you with me always."

"But how will I look?"

"People hated you dating Lewis, people will hate you for not dating him." Carlos shrugs making her sigh and roll her eyes only to squeak when he smacks her ass. "Do not roll your eyes at me with that attitude. I only want to see them rolling when I'm between your legs, yes?"

"Carlos." Y/n gasps, the vulgarity of his words certainly shocking her.

"I mean it."

Carlos arriving with y/n immediately earned attention and Lando wasted 0.1 of a second just so he could get himself over to the two and shake his head.

"You are a bad man, Carlos." Lando laughs shaking his head before he smiles at y/n. "Hey, y/n."

"Hi, Lando." Y/n smiles nervously, as always trying to be polite but her grip on Carlos' hand is actually almost tight enough to be hurting him which is actually a little impressive.

"Alright, man we have to go but I will see you later." Carlos smiles since Lando wasn't the British man whose name begins with an L that he was really aiming to gain the attention of.

"We'll have to catch up later." Lando hums moving away looking very much amused and like he's about to go gossip with as many drivers will listen.

"Stop being so stressed." Carlos assures the young woman.

"Sorry...I am happy to be here with you. I swear." Y/n smiles making him hum managing to spin her before pulling her back against himself finally earning a laugh.

"Whatever I have to do to earn your smile. I will do it. Sí?"

"Sí." Y/n confirms before giggling then kissing him smiling when he shameless grabs her ass and when he opens his eyes feeling a burning gaze on then his teeth even nip at her bottom lip as he pulls away.

Lewis' dark eyes show are filled with a mixture of anger and hurt. A toxic combination. Carlos will have to be careful on track but somehow he can't find himself feeling guilty about it.

"Let's get go." Carlos smiles making her grin at him. None the wiser to their onlooker. "Come on."

"You stole his girlfriend." Lando sighs shaking his head as they walk to the truck for the driver's parade. "I can't believe it."

"I didn't steal anyone's anything. She chose me." Carlos shrugs then smirking. "These things happen and like he says, there's no hard feelings. It's not personal."

Lando just laughs shaking his head.

"She is a very sweet woman. Everyone knows they were wrong for each other."

"But she's right for you?"

"Well she certainly agrees with that and I want her more than he did."

And he did want her more, he wanted her whole being and he'll make sure that every single day for the rest of his life, he keeps her just to make sure Lewis can never have her again. Not that he thinks y/n could find it in herself to make such a walk of shame back to Lewis if the relationship did end.

Thankfully she seems to have gotten over her worries and guilt thanks to Carlos' constant effort to make sure she is too focused on him to give a fuck about anyone else.

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rosyblooom · 1 day

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could you please do figure skater x lando norris or carlos sainz

snow angels | cs55 smau

PAIRING: carlos sainz x fem spanish figure skater!reader A/N: thank u for sending this in!! <3 fyi I know next to nothing about the figure skating world, so pls bear that in mind lol

Instagram

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, carlossainz55, yourpartner, and 89,772 others

tagged: yourpartner

yourusername ¡Lo hicimos! (we did it!)🇪🇸🏆 gold for ice dance in the european championships!! thank you to everyone for the support 🤍

view all 796 comments

username Ustedes dos lo hicieron increíble. ¡Habéis enorgullecido mucho a España! (you two did amazing. you have made spain very proud!)

yourusername muchas gracias :) (thank you very much)

username congratulations! we love you so much! <33

username Both looked gorgeous❤️‍🔥🔥😻

username am I tripping or is that carlos sainz in the likes???

username are you new here lmao? they're dating username wait what???? username yeah lol they're just private

carlossainz55 Gran trabajo como siempre👏👏 (great job as always)

yourusername 🥰🥰 username AHHH I LOVE U CARLOS username bring the next gp home and then it's perfect 🇪🇸

username That was a pure masterpiece! I've rewatched your performance so many times already!

yourpartner ¡Equipo soñado!❤️(dream team!)

yourusername para siempre 🤍 (forever) username u guys are so cute stawp

yourusername posted to her story!

[ caption: huele delicioso 😍 (smells delicious) ]

[ tagged: carlossainz55 ]

Youtube - Ferrari

Twitter

Instagram

carlossainz55 posted to his story!

[ caption: ❄️👸 ]

[ tagged: yourusername ]

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, lilymhe and 71,894 others

tagged: carlossainz55

yourusername tried teaching him a few tricks but as you can see, he's much better at making snow angels!!🤣🤍🤍

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landonorris Why am I not surprised😂

yourusername I would love to see you try! 😆 landonorris I'll pass! username we love a man who knows his limits!!!🙂‍↕️

username that's so real of him tbh

username no bc i tried once and that stuff ain't for the weak omfg😮‍💨

carlossainz55 My knee still hurts...

yourusername it wasn't so bad🤣 username I CAN KISS IT BETTER!!!

username love you y/n!!! can't wait to see you at the olympics🫶

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lilymhe my pretty girl <33

yourusername 😘

1:22 ──ㅇ────────── 5:16

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nayziiz · 2 days

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Hi I dunno if you’re taking requests but if you are do you think you could do a smut one shot where either Charles or Carlos is always like super cocky and confident in public and the reader finds it funny because she always has him whimpering and whining for her in private? Maybe like a bit of a dumbification kink too? Thank youuu

BRAVADO | CS55

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader (she/her)

Warnings: Smut, fluff, unprotected sex, dumification kink

Author's Note: Yes, please send in your requests! I might take a few days to write it, but I will try to do it justice - I hope you like it anon! I haven't written anything for a dumification kink, so I tried my best here.

Masterlist

Carlos's public bravado could fill a room, his confidence radiated like a beacon wherever he went. With a swagger in his step and a smirk on his lips, he commanded attention effortlessly. His words dripped with self-assurance, and his demeanour exuded an air of invincibility. To the outside world, he was the epitome of cool, a picture of unshakable confidence.

When she was with him, Carlos's bravado seemed to reach new heights, as if her presence ignited a fire within him that fueled his confidence to soar even higher. In her company, he appeared even more self-assured, his swagger more pronounced, and his demeanour more assertive.

It was as though being around her amplified his sense of power and invincibility, emboldening him to push the boundaries of his bravado to the extreme. With her by his side, he revelled in the attention, basking in the admiration that her presence seemed to command. With her radiant beauty and magnetic presence, she effortlessly commanded attention wherever she went. Her grace and allure were undeniable, drawing eyes to her like moths to a flame. And when she stood by Carlos's side, his chest swelled with pride, basking in the glow of her admiration.

He loved the way heads turned when they entered a room together, the whispers and stares that followed in their wake. It was as if her beauty cast a spotlight on him, elevating his own presence in the eyes of others.

As they arrived at the Chinese Grand Prix, the pair strolled hand-in-hand, their presence commanding attention from the moment they stepped foot onto the bustling scene. The cameras surrounded them almost immediately, eager to capture every moment of their presence at the prestigious event. Reporters clamoured for interviews, fans reached out for autographs, and photographers vied for the perfect shot, all vying to capture the essence of their undeniable chemistry and charm.

Yet, amidst the chaos, Carlos remained unfazed, his hand firmly clasped in hers as they navigated the sea of attention together. For him, there was no greater thrill than sharing these moments with the one he loved, basking in the adoration and admiration that surrounded them.

As the press clamoured to ask her questions or get her opinion on his season, his cocky demeanour came to the forefront like a shield protecting the one he held dear. With a sly grin and a twinkle in his eye, he deflected questions and bantered with reporters, his confidence unwavering even in the face of scrutiny.

Yet, beneath the surface, his protective instincts kicked into overdrive, a fierce guardian watching over her every move. While he showed her off like nobody's business, he was quick to intervene if he sensed any discomfort or intrusion. His swagger masked a vigilant eye, ready to step in at a moment's notice to ensure her comfort and safety. He may have enjoyed the attention too much at times, but his priority was always her well-being, his protective instincts kicking in instinctively whenever she was in the spotlight.

As they made their way through the bustling paddock, the love of her life exuded an aura of confidence and charm that never failed to captivate her. She couldn't help but chuckle at his swagger, amused by the juxtaposition of his public persona and his private demeanour.

Though she adored seeing him command attention in the paddock and on the racetrack, it was in their private moments that she truly enjoyed his company. Behind closed doors, he transformed into a different man—a man who succumbed to her every whim and desire, his bravado melting away to reveal a vulnerable, obedient side.

She loved the dichotomy of their relationship, the way he projected strength and confidence to the world, yet willingly became her devoted servant in private. It was a dynamic that brought them closer together, a secret bond shared only between them.

Once they were behind the closed doors of his driver's room, the air between them shifted, charged with a mix of anticipation and intimacy. She wasted no time in teasing him gently, her words carrying a hint of playful admonition.

“You better do well today,” she told him, her tone laced with a mixture of teasing and encouragement. It was a familiar refrain, a gentle reminder of the high expectations that surrounded him on race day.

Carlos's bravado, already softened by their private moment together, melted away completely as he gazed at her. In that moment, there was no need for pretence or posturing—just the raw honesty of their connection.

A knowing look passed between them, an unspoken understanding of the pressures he faced and the support she offered. In her eyes, he found reassurance and strength, a silent promise that no matter the outcome, he would always have her unwavering support.

In the hushed intimacy of their darkened hotel room later that night, the atmosphere crackled with electricity as she straddled him, her movements deliberate and enticing. With a playful glint in her eyes, she pinned his hands above his head, a subtle display of power that sent a thrill coursing through him.

Carlos's breath came in ragged gasps, his body tense with anticipation as she hovered above him, her proximity driving him to the brink of madness. Despite the exhaustion of the day's events, he was acutely aware of every sensation, every touch sending shivers down his spine.

She was intoxicating, her presence filling the room with a heady mix of desire and longing. With each movement, she teased and tantalised, her touch igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole.

“Tell me how much you want it, Carlos.” She murmured against the skin of his neck as she hovered over him..

The heat of her breath against him sent a surge of arousal pulsing through him, igniting a fire within that threatened to consume him entirely.

As she ground against him, her movements deliberate and tantalising, Carlos felt himself teetering on the edge of control. The sensation of her grinding over his swollen and throbbing cock was almost too much to bear, each movement sending waves of pleasure cascading through him.

His breath hitched in his throat as he struggled to find his voice, his mind clouded with a haze of desire and longing. He wanted her with a fervour that bordered on obsession, his body aching for release as she teased him with every touch.

He was powerless beneath her, surrendering to her every whim as she drove him to the edge of ecstasy. The weight of the day's challenges faded into insignificance as he lost himself beneath her, their passion burning bright against the backdrop of the night.

“I can't wait much longer, my love,” he confessed, his voice a soft whimper that echoed with raw emotion. “I need to feel you.”

As she shifted her weight onto his throbbing cock, grinding against him with renewed intensity, Carlos's breath hitched in his throat, his body on the precipice of ecstasy. Each movement sent bolts of pleasure coursing through him, driving him to the brink of release with dizzying speed.

But just as he felt himself teetering on the edge of blissful oblivion, she shifted her movements, slowing the pace and denying him the release he so desperately craved. A low groan escaped his lips as frustration mingled with desire, his body yearning for the sweet release that remained agonisingly out of reach.

She had other plans for him, he realised, her teasing touch driving him to the brink of madness with each tantalising movement. It was a game of pleasure and restraint, a dance of desire and denial that left him trembling with need.

“Be good for me, baby.” Her words, soft and imploring, cut through the haze of desire clouding Carlos's mind, momentarily grounding him in the intensity of their shared moment.

Despite the overwhelming urge coursing through his veins, he fought to regain control, to heed her plea and be the good, obedient lover she desired. Carlos found it increasingly difficult to maintain his composure. His body moved instinctively, his hips bucking against hers in a desperate quest for more friction, more sensation.

The need for release burned like a wildfire within him, threatening to consume him whole. With each movement, he felt himself edging closer and closer to the precipice of ecstasy, his resolve crumbling beneath the weight of his desire.

“Please,” he managed to choke out, his voice a hoarse whisper laden with desperation. “I need..”

“Oh, baby, listen to you losing your words for me,” she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she continued to tease him.

Carlos's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he realised the effect her teasing had on him. He squirmed beneath her, feeling simultaneously aroused and humiliated by his inability to articulate his desires.

But deep down, a part of him loved the sensation of being rendered speechless by her, finding a strange thrill in the loss of control. There was something undeniably intoxicating about surrendering to her will, about allowing her to dictate his every whim and desire.

As she continued to taunt him with her playful words, he felt himself growing even more aroused, his body responding eagerly to her teasing. With each passing moment, he sank deeper into the deliciously humiliating pleasure of being dominated by her, his mind consumed by thoughts of submission and surrender.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, she decided to end his torture, her fingers curling around the waistband of his boxers. With a swift motion, she pulled them down, exposing his completely hardened cock to the cool air of the room.

Carlos gasped as his arousal was laid bare, his breath catching in his throat at the sudden rush of sensation. He felt exposed and vulnerable, yet exhilarated by the raw display of desire.

As she admired him, her gaze lingering hungrily on his throbbing length, Carlos squirmed beneath her, overcome with a heady mix of embarrassment and arousal. But there was no denying the undeniable thrill that coursed through him at the sight of her, his body responding eagerly to her touch.

With a playful smile, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his inner thigh. He shivered at the sensation, his heart pounding with anticipation as she teased him mercilessly.

She eventually ended her onslaught of torture as she gripped his cock, firm and unyielding. Without hesitation, she sank down onto him, impaling herself on his hardness with a gasp of pleasure.

Carlos's breath hitched in his throat as she began to ride him, her movements slow and deliberate, each thrust driving him deeper into the throes of ecstasy. He clung to her desperately, his fingers digging into her hips as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through him.

As she rode him with abandon, Carlos felt himself teetering on the edge of oblivion, his senses overwhelmed by the dizzying rush of sensation. He was helpless to resist her, his body a slave to her every whim as she drove him relentlessly towards the brink of release.

And then, with a guttural cry of ecstasy, he finally succumbed to the overwhelming pleasure, his climax crashing over him in a tidal wave of bliss. He pulsed helplessly inside her, his entire being consumed by the intense pleasure of their shared release.

He struggled to find his voice, his mind still clouded with the remnants of ecstasy as he tried to form a coherent response. But no words came, his tongue feeling heavy and uncooperative in his mouth. He could only gasp and moan in response to her taunts, his body still thrumming with the aftershocks of their shared release.

She chuckled softly at his inability to respond, her eyes dancing with amusement as she continued to tease him mercilessly. With a playful smirk, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered tauntingly, “Come on, Carlos, where's your voice, my love? Or did I fuck it right out of you?”

Her words sent a shiver of arousal coursing through him once more, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment at his inability to articulate his desires. Yet, despite the teasing, there was a warmth in her tone that reassured him of her affection, her playful banter a testament to the intimacy they shared.

As she pulled off him and nestled beside him, Carlos felt a rush of tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as they basked in the warm afterglow of their passion.

“You're going to be the death of me, my love,” he whispered softly, his voice filled with a mixture of adoration and playful exasperation.

She chuckled at his words, the sound like music to his ears as she snuggled closer to him. In that moment, surrounded by the comforting embrace of her arms, Carlos felt a profound sense of contentment, knowing that he was exactly where he belonged.

And as they drifted off to sleep, tangled together in a cocoon of love and warmth, Carlos knew with absolute certainty that he would gladly risk it all for the chance to spend eternity by her side.

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ferrstappen · 5 hours

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mónaco l Carlos Sainz

(a/n): this is a very short piece based on one of my favorite songs of all time which, by coincidence, is called Mónaco by Lagos and Danny Ocean. If you listen to it you can picture yourself having a summer romance with Carlos, true story. I'd love to dive deeper into it, but idk I just needed to get it out fast for some reason. hope you like it, feedback is always welcomed<3

summary: pero si algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco (but if there’s something left in us then it’s everything that happened in Monaco)

no sé si te acuerdes, de la vez que nos perdimos en septiembre

she'd never forget the warm september night when Carlos took her to the casino for the first time. He still wasn't very familiar with the principality and she was just a fleeting person for a couple of weeks, months, and he couldn't count on her of all people to know the streets of the heavenly Monaco.

As the flutes of Don Perignon continued to flow, he became more and more animated, trying his best to explain the intricate science behind poker and the true meaning behind each card. But despite his best efforts, she found herself unable to concentrate on his words. Instead, she was deeply lost in his eyes, taking in every detail of his sparkling hazel hue.

As she continued to stare, he finally noticed the piercing gaze, causing a warm flush to rise in his cheeks. A shy smile appeared on his lips, and she couldn't resist the urge to lean in and place a gentle kiss on them and when she pulled away, his smile grew wider making her fall deeper and deeper in this announced tragedy.

Everything was good until Carlos realized he was drunk, couldn't drive and didn't remember his address, eyes growing comically large as he came to terms that his alcohol-consumed brain really couldn't remember the name of his street, meaning someone had to drive him and his companion through the beautifully and carefully lit streets until one of you started to recognize his complex and as unusual and absurd of a situation they were in, she couldn't stop giggling as the streets kept passing by in a blur and watched Carlos still trying his best to remember.

tantas veces que tomé tres escalas para verte, creo que me acostumbré a tenerte como si no fuera a acabar.

her time in Monaco was over and Carlos' career in Toro Rosso was steadily climbing, he couldn't afford to take his mind off the track and she understood, she was willing to fly over just to see him.

but it started to fade away.

she was still willing to deal with three layovers to see Carlos, and his caramel eyes still sparkled when he saw her, but there was something missing, this wasn't like their late nights in strolling around Monaco, drinking cheap wine even if they could afford a way nicer bottle.

they weren't stupid, this wasn't meant to last any longer than a couple weeks in autumn, a simple memory, one of those people you can close your eyes and feel their scent, mind playing tricks that maybe if they closed their eyes long enough they might get a feel of the soft skin of each other, running her thumb through his cheek while he tried to fall asleep.

yo sé que para volver ya es tarde, y nuestro plan nunca fue quedarse, no sé si habrá una segunda parte, pero si hay algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco.

she stopped flying over, Carlos stopped asking her to spend the weekends off in his apartment, just the two of them

Both reminded themselves this wasn't meant to last, wasn't supposed to create one single string, but they both failed.

chances were, they would find each other again maybe on another holiday, another masters degree, PhD, Grand Prix; a part two, a proper goodbye to te September walks in heels she couldn't take off in order to not get a fine, pouting so Carlos would carry her on his back, as if they knew each other their entire lives.

it wasn't important now.

all they had left was what happened in Monaco.

-------------------------------------------------

translations <3

no sé si te acuerdes, de la vez que nos perdimos en septiembre: i don't know if you remember about the time we got lost in September.

tantas veces que tomé tres escalas para verte, creo que me acostumbré a tenerte como si no fuera a acabar: so many times i took three layovers just to see you, I think I got used to having you as if it was never gonna end.

yo sé que para volver ya es tarde, y nuestro plan nunca fue quedarse, no sé si habrá una segunda parte, pero si hay algo que nos quedó es todo lo que pasó en Mónaco: i know it's too late to come back and staying wasn't our plan, i don't know if there's gonna be a second time, but if something's that's left in us is everything that happened in Monaco.

#carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz blurb #carlos sainz au #carlos sainz angst #f1 fluff #f1 fics #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you

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snzleclerc · 1 day

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pizza date ! part two

@mariclerc sorry for my delay :((

"I told you to stop!" I say between laughs as Charles keeps blowing flour in my direction.

Maybe I shouldn't have agreed to come over to his place to 'teach' him how to make bread.

After our date at the pizzeria, he's been taking me out more often, and I have to admit, he's a real gentleman. He invited me for a boat ride, to help him pick out clothes, and even to taste the flavors of his ice cream brand.

I mentioned my cooking skills to him one day, and he didn't hesitate to ask me to show him a thing or two, and bread ended up being the first choice.

"Now you put it in the oven, be careful!" I hand him a cloth so he doesn't burn his perfect hands. I mean, everything about this guy is just perfect. Sometimes I wonder why I haven't just grabbed him by the hair and kissed him senseless.

"Relax, belle, I'm not a 5-year-old."

"Sure seems like it!" I probably shouldn't have said that.

Next thing I know, he dips one of his hands into the flour bag, and poof, it's all over my face. In my hair, which I spent ages hydrating yesterday, and everywhere else.

I gasp in shock, then burst out laughing indignantly. His infectious laughter fills the kitchen as he dashes off to other rooms in his apartment.

Oh, I'm definitely getting him back.

I wipe my face clean just enough to see, grab handfuls of flour, and race to find him. His apartment isn't huge, but it's not so small that I can't lose sight of him.

With my face and hands coated in flour, I step into what looks like a guest bedroom, judging by its size. It's quiet until I hear a familiar giggle.

"Ha!"

In a split second, he jumps out from behind the door, and the flour in my hands goes straight onto his face.

Now we're both covered in flour, laughing like two lovesick fools. And maybe, just maybe, I'm falling for him.

He pulls me into the kitchen and grabs a clean cloth, wiping his delicate face.

"That wasn't funny, Charlie," I say, though deep down, I actually loved it.

"Oh, I know you found it funny, amour," he responds, and I blush even more at his endearing nickname.

Once we're both cleaned up, we debate what movie to watch.

Charles wants anything from the Harry Potter series, but I'm in the mood for Divergent.

After much back and forth, we settle on 'Beauty and the Beast', since he insists I'm as beautiful as Belle.

And that's how the night ends, cuddled up on the couch, watching 'Beauty and the Beast'.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #lando norris #carlos sainz #cl16 #cl16 x reader #f1 x reader #cute #formula 1 #formula one #aesthetic #fluff #charles leclerc masterlist #ferrari #scuderia ferrari

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cherry-leclerc · 5 months

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lolita ☆ cs55

genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature

word count: 14.9k

You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).

cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY.

She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground.

He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.

But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began.

Where Paradise met Hell.

Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.

They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew.

You liked them older.

Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.

And that’s a story for later.

Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.

Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.

And your older sister, Ollie?

Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one.

Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.

Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good.

Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped.

“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”

Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.

“Papi, how are you?”

Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.

“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”

You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?

You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.

“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”

It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.

Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.

Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?

“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”

Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.

Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-

“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”

Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.

Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on.

“I am so, so, sorry.”

Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume.

Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down.

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”

Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.

“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”

Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between.

“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”

Wait.

“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”

No, no, no.

“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”

Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?

What was so fucking special about her?

Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man.

Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest.

“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you.

It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that.

Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze.

“How’s school?”

Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”

The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming.

Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain.

“What do you do for work?”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.”

You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair.

“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”

Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.

“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”

The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”

“I might.”

Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”

You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.

You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities.

Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”

He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.

“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”

He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”

It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over.

“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”

“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”

7 years.

Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”

“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”

Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.

“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”

He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.

“Calling him wh- Papi?”

He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again.

“Forget it. How would I know?”

Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless.

Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.

Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.

“Not having fun?”

Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.

“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.

“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night.

“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights.

You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.

“You know the groom or the bride?”

“Bride.”

He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.

Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.”

“It is. Thank you for caring.”

He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”

“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”

He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it.

“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”

Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Maxie.”

Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.

The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”

“Nothing that should concern you.”

His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.

“Right. Have a good night.”

Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all.

So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.

Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place.

“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”

“Ouch.”

Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.

Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be.

“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”

Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke.

“When was this taken?”

“The day of our engagement.”

You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you.

Fuck her, honestly.

“Why’d you propose?”

He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?

“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware - and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”

Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults?

He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words.

You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you.

Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”

“You should leave.”

You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff.

“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”

Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought.

He’s fucked.

The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along.

“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room.

It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back.

Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you.

The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight.

His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete.

His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion.

Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps.

“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law.

“What are you doing up so late?”

Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs.

“First time?”

“No. It’s just been a while.”

You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns.

“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”

And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes.

His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly.

“You know what you remind me of?”

You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips.

“A Lolita.”

A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin.

The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.

A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home.

More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce.

Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.

“Are you okay?”

Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up.

“Why’d you do it?”

Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue.

“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”

Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-

His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.

He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello.

“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”

His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips.

“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”

Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.

“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.

Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling.

“Take care, Carlos.”

It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.

“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”

You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”

Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”

The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.

“What are we talking about?”

“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.

“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”

Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”

“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”

Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other.

“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”

“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.

Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular.

“The fuck - Are you crying?”

“What do you want?”

She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”

Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.

“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”

You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience.

But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?

She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away.

“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”

We probably shouldn’t-

Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.

“You and him…”

She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.”

“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”

If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.

But now you did.

“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”

Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.

Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.

“How are we all doing?”

They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.

Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.

Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.

“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”

Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”

You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”

“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.

“Not a word of this to Carlos.”

“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”

Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”

“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”

“He won’t believe you…”

She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”

“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”

Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you.

“Are you okay?”

Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.

“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”

“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”

Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”

If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this?

You hated her.

You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.

Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.

“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”

You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.

“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”

“Thank you,” you blush.

Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”

“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”

“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.

“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”

Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”

Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?

“I always find you alone.”

You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.”

“Ah. I see.”

You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”

“About?”

“Marrying a monster.”

He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”

“You were thinking of quitting?”

He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”

It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.

Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow.

“Want to dance?”

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”

“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”

Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”

His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.

“Mentirosa.”

“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully.

The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…

His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap.

Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.

“Goodnight, Carlos.”

Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie.

He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely.

“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”

Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.

“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.”

He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins.

Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!

The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.

Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.

With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches.

“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”

Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.

As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast.

“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.”

True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps.

“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”

Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red.

Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.

“Boo!”

“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”

“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.

“You’re fucked up.”

Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”

“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”

He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.

“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”

He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”

Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.

Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.

“Fucking delicious.”

Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe.

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of cours-s-e.”

Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.

“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”

The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action.

“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”

Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.

Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.

“Do you-”

“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”

If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it.

His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.

“How about mine?”

He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you.

He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.

You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.

“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”

Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss.

“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”

“You know it’s always been for you.”

With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.

“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”

His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”

Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out.

“Let’s start off with something else then.”

You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place.

“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”

“Yes.”

His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck.

Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria.

“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.

And that was only going to multiply.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”

No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.”

His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.

“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”

Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.

He adds a fourth digit.

“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride.

“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”

He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax.

Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.

This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening.

Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.

Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.

Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.

Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.

His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser.

Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.

The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.

Light of my life. Fire of my loins.

Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips.

“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”

When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release.

Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more.

Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths.

“Will you fuck me now?”

You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.

“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”

In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.

“Then you should be fucked as such.”

With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.

First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.

I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.

Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.

“Oh God.”

Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.

“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment.

Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets.

The keys for the gate to Heaven.

Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.

“Does that feel good, bonita?”

Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours.

In this moment; he looked immortal.

“Carlos, I’m gonna-”

“Hold it.”

Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”

You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear.

He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.

“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”

It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex.

Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.

He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-

“I will.”

When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”

Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.

“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”

There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.

You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.

You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.

“Nice ceremony.”

“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”

He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right?

The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.

Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.”

“Good to know.”

“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”

“Like you care.”

She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”

No.

“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”

It can’t be.

Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.

Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”

She knows. He told her. And they still got married.

“Ollie, don’t…”

Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.

“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”

Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?

“Ollie, please…I love him.”

Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”

Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by.

Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.

You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.

“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?”

Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.

“Carlos!”

Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake.

“Coming.”

Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.

“¿Bonita?”

Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?

Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists.

As red as your dress.

He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.

“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey. C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.

“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.”

But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore.

A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene.

None of it mattered anymore.

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itaipava · 7 months

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— protective gestures F1 boys do.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS:

he always offers to take you places. it doesn’t matter if it’s just to walk you home or to help you pick out some new clothes: he just wants to spend more time with you. he loves to hold your hand while you guys walk around, occasionally showing you some cool stuff he saw on the street or staying silent, just enjoying each other’s company. and when you get home, he waits and watches you enter your house/apartment safely, and he only leaves when he is sure you are safe and well.

˒ ⌕ DANIEL RICCIARDO

he likes to tease or annoy you sometimes, and you know it’s just a funny and comically affectionate way to show he loves you, but he’s always the first one to speak up if someone says — or even implies — something mean about you. one time, your friends were taking it too far with the teasing that it was making you uncomfortable and he sensed it immediately and shut them off with an almost nonchalant-sounding “watch your words,” and a serious look. and if it was a stranger, he has a way of telling them off while also remaining polite. so basically, no one can ‘bully’ you except him.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he always walks on the outer side of the sidewalk when the two of you are walking side by side to keep you safe from the road. he puts his hand on your back as he continues to talk to you. he’s also in the habit of looking over his shoulder at you and trying to keep an eye on his surroundings when you’re together.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

he tends to hold you at random times, like; intertwine his arm with yours while he’s on his phone, or let you put your leg on top of his when you sit next to each other, or hug you from behind while you do something. they are small and subtle gestures, but they give you a pure and genuine feeling of security, love and appreciation.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

he always tries his best to protect your space when you are in crowded places. when you’re about to accidentally bump into someone, he grabs your waist quickly and pulls you against his chest while saying things like “be careful, love” or “are you okay?”. or when it’s too cold, he’ll wrap you in a warm, comforting hug while gently rocking you sideways, occasionally placing a kiss on your forehead or caressing your back

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

he gives you his jacket or sweatshirt when you’re cold. sometimes you think he doesn’t notice, but he always does, and you don’t even need to say anything, he instinctively drapes the jacket over your shoulders protectively. and when you are wearing shorts or skirts/dresses and you have to sit down, he always gives you his sweater so you can cover your lap if you feel uncomfortable.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

before you leave, he always reminds you to be careful and asks you to text or call him when you get wherever you go safely. it’s a way for him to know you’re safe and well. and if you need him, regardless of the reason or what time you are calling him, he would come to you in minutes, leaving anything aside just to come to you.

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hemmingsleclerc · 2 months

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My Husband ┃CS55

summary: Y/N attends her husband's home race but didn't expect to find the "popular" girl at her high school back in the day.

The sun was seen over the Barcelona-Catalunya Circuit while the Spanish Grand Prix was taking place. Y/N, dressed in an elegant yet casual dress that perfectly combined glamor and comfort, strolled through the paddock with an air of confidence. Her husband, Carlos, was focused on preparations for the next race, leaving her free to immerse herself in the exciting atmosphere.

As she toured the different garages and hospitality areas, Y/N couldn't shake the feeling of nostalgia. The roar of the engines brought back memories of her teenager's years when she would never have imagined being there in the paddock. Yet here she was, the wife of one of the sport's most talented drivers.

The familiar murmur of voices interrupted her thoughts and she turned to see a group of people approaching her. Among them was a face from her past: a girl named Carla, who was once the queen bee of her high school. Carla's eyes widened in false surprise when she saw Y/N there.

"Well, well, if it's not little Y/N," Carla sneered, her tone full of mockery. "What brings you to the Spanish Grand Prix? Trying to catch a glimpse of the rich and famous?"

Y/N smiled, refusing to let Carla's comments get to her. "Oh, you know, I've always been an F1 fan. I thought I'd come and support my husband."

''Husband?, so after all you did get a boyfriend?, what a wonderful surprise!''

''Yes, yes I did Carla'' Y/N responded, avoiding the urge to roll her eyes.

Carla smiled and looked at her boyfriend, who was next to her. "Well, we're here because my boyfriend is a big fan. You probably know him, he was with us at school! In fact, today he met all the drivers. It's a dream come true for him."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, recognizing the familiar pattern of Carla trying to outdo her in any situation. "That's fantastic for him. I'm sure meeting the drivers was an unforgettable experience."

''So, is this your first race?''

''In fact no, I have attended several grand prix, although it's probably your first time, so enjoy it Carla!'' And just as she finished saying those words she turned around and walked away from that irritating situation.

The race came to life and Y/N continued to enjoy the event, doing her best to ignore the presence of her ''wonderful'' former high school classmates.

As the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, Y/N once again found herself in the path of Carla and her boyfriend.

"Well, well, look who it is," Carla said with a forced smile. "Did you have fun watching the race, sweetie?"

Y/N sighed inwardly but maintained her composure. "Yes, it was thrilling. Excuse me, I need to find Carlos."

As she tried to walk away, Carla's boyfriend, Y/N's old crush from high school, stepped forward, trying to strike up a conversation with her. Y/N felt a wave of discomfort but remained polite. All she wanted to do was go to her husband and congratulate him on his incredible podium finish in the race.

Suddenly, the crowd around them buzzed with excitement as Carlos Sainz approached, his red racing suit adorned with sponsor logos. Carla and her boyfriend exchanged surprised glances.

"Carlos Sainz!" Carla exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Y/N couldn't help but smile triumphantly. "Oh, I didn't mention it before? He's Carlos, my husband, sweetie."

Carlos, oblivious to the tension, politely greeted Carla and her boyfriend. When they noticed, Carla's forced smile faltered and Y/N took the opportunity to gracefully exit the conversation. She walked away from her, leaving behind a speechless Carla and a bewildered old lover.

''Thank God you showed up, I couldn't stand them for another minute''

''You okey mi amor?''

''I'll be better after the celebration for your great podium, cariño''

With their heads held high, Y/N and Carlos walked out holding hands, along with the shiny trophy, ready to have a great night.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 months

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Boy Toys || CarLando

Summary: You invite your boyfriend’s ex-teammate to bed and he is more than willing to be your toy for the night. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, mmf threesome, mxm anal WC: 2.7k

“He wants you, amor,” Carlos teased the shell of your ear. Your boyfriend stood behind you, his hands on your waist and his body flush against yours. “He can’t stop looking at you.”

You looked at Carlos’ ex-teammate and found his blue eyes already watching you from across the bar and heat coursed your veins at the way he held his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. The younger driver had grown more handsome over the years since Carlos left McLaren but he clearly still had it bad for you, and Carlos was enjoying every second of it as his hands trailed up your body before curving over your ribs. Lando’s eyes dropped to the possessive touch that cradled the underside of your breasts and drew his attention to your nipples that were beginning to peak against the thin satin dress you wore.

“Stop bruising the poor guy’s ego,” you chuckled as you pushed his hands back down to your hips. You turned and draped your arms around Carlos’ neck, smiling sweetly as you tipped your head back to meet his eyes. “Or I might just have to go and kiss it better.”

Carlos’ hands spread over your ass and pulled you against him, his growing semi digging into your abdomen. A smirk played on his full lips and dirty thoughts danced across his face that you had always found easy to read. “Hmm, would you really?”

You rose onto your tip toes and nipped at his bottom lip before trailing kisses along his jawline. “Absolutely, I would even let you watch.”

Your ass burned with a sharp smack and he inhaled your moan as he kissed you with a harsh crash of his lips. “Go on then, amor, put him out of his misery.”

You grinned at the permission and slipped out of his hold to cross the room. The duo had been friends long before you started your relationship with Carlos and there had always been an undercurrent of sexual tension when the three of you were in a room together. You hadn’t been able to resist asking Carlos about it one night when your bodies were entangled. He admitted he felt it too but assured you nothing had happened, much to your disappointment. Things started to change after that night and Carlos grew bolder around Lando, playing on his desire and yours.

“You’re looking lonely,” you greeted Lando, draping your arms around his neck in an overly friendly hug. “Dance with me.”

He looked at Carlos, catching the smirk and the nod the Spaniard gave before turning to another friend who had called his name. Letting you drag him to the middle of the crowd where the room felt claustrophobic, Lando easily slipped into the space you made, his arms curving around your waist as the beat of the song echoed in his chest.

You tipped your head back on his shoulder as you swayed your hips to the music, enjoying the feel of his breath on your neck as he grew the courage to brush his lips over your racing pulse. The sweet perfume on your neck seemed more intoxicating than the drinks he had and he brushed his nose along your neck as he inhaled more.

“Make me sweat, make me hotter, make me lose my breath, make me water,” you sang along suggestively to the song and grinned when he groaned quietly.

“I wish…”

You turned in his arms and bit your lip as your hands roamed his body, slipping beneath the cotton shirt and over his abs. “What exactly would you wish for?”

“What?”

“If you had one wish, what would it be?”

Lando dared to dream as his hands slipped down your body to rest on your ass, growing bolder when you made no attempt to stop him. His lips brushed your skin as he dipped his head down to yours, resting cheek to cheek and whispering all the filthy thoughts he had imagined with you. Each one sent heat flaming across your body and your deep breath swelled in your chest, causing your breasts to brush against him. The satin teased your already stiff nipples and a soft moan tumbled out to caress his ear.

“We should get out of here,” you suggested as your heart began to beat between your legs, your core throbbing with need.

“We?” Lando asked, pulling back to catch sight of Carlos casually waiting by the bar still.

“He likes to watch…unless you want him to join.” You watched him swallow deeply, that damn kissable lip catching between his teeth again before he nodded.

“He likes to watch?”

You grazed your nails over his abs and felt them tense at the touch. “He likes to watch me play with my toys. Will you be my toy tonight?”

His hand was already grabbing yours with the need for a quick exit. “Fuck yes.”

You let him lead the way, nodding your head to Carlos and pointing to the corridor that led out of the bar. His swagger was confident as he placed his glass on the bar top and made his way out too.

“Where are we off to in such a hurry?” Carlos asked as he intercepted you by the door, casually leaning across the opening to block Lando. It left their bodies close and dark eyes drank in the younger driver whose hand still gripped yours. Lando froze, his eyes darting between you and Carlos with worry before a grin split your boyfriend’s face. “Relax, cabrón, I mean your hotel or mine.”

“Fuck, man, you gave me a heart attack.” Lando exhaled in relief before getting a little nervous, dropping your hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Uh, I don’t mind.”

“Ours,” you decided. “My toys are in the suitcase.”

Carlos’ eyes lit up at the thought. “You brought them through airport security, amor?”

You winked and ducked under his arm to start making an exit. “It was a private jet. I figured no one would check. Now are we going to have some fun or just me?”

The two drivers looked at each other and smirked.

The hotel door slammed shut and Carlos winced in apology but he was a little too eager to finish what started in the elevator. You could still feel Lando’s kiss on your lips and see Carlos’ eyes darkening with lust. You wanted more.

Lando crashed into you, his hands grabbing your waist to steady your steps as he guided you back to the bed. “You have no idea how long I have wanted this,” he confessed as those strong hands moved to caress your ass.

A deep groan filled the air and it didn’t come from the man in front of you. “Oh, I know,” Carlos said as he pressed himself to your back and kissed your neck. “I’ve seen the way you watch her, cabròn.”

“The same way you look at each other,” you added, feeling them both stiffen against you. Neither pulled away, Lando’s hands still resting on your ass where Carlos’s front was pressed against them. “I think it’s hot as fuck.”

Lando was no longer looking at you but over your shoulder. “I thought you were just watching…”

Carlos’ heartbeat thrummed rapidly against your back. “If that’s what you want.”

The silent question hung in the air and you held your breath waiting for it to settle. There was no expectation from Carlos because he was absolutely happy to just watch, you could feel it from the large bulge digging into your ass, but you had seen the longing to join as well.

Lando’s hand moved and you feared he was pulling away until Carlos moaned. Your thighs pressed tight in search of friction as you felt Lando stroking Carlos over his jeans and you felt them both shiver in anticipation.

“How attached are you to this dress?” Lando asked.

“I love it, but I’ll love it more the faster it comes off.”

His smirk grew and he reached for the thigh split, his strength easily overcoming the sewed join as he ripped it all the way to the top. The material fell open, only kept up by the thin straps over your shoulders, until Carlos brushed them off.

“Dios mio.”

Carlos chuckled at Lando’s poor pronunciation and ran a hand down the curves of your body. “Is that all you have learned from me, carnal?”

“I can’t think of anything when you do that,” he admitted. “You’re so fucking lucky.”

You weren’t quite sure who he was saying it to and you shared a smile with Carlos as you saw the same thought pass across his eyes. “I’m feeling pretty lucky right now,” you teased as you took Carlos’ hand and guided it to the juncture of your thighs. “I have two very handsome men with me, except they are completely overdressed.”

You stepped away from them and climbed onto the bed, taking a seat at the headboard. “You can’t join me until you are naked.”

Lando nearly fell over as his legs tangled in his jeans but he kicked them aside and tore his shirt over his head. Carlos was more content to remove his shirt and unbuckle his belt before taking a seat on the couch in the room. He could see how eager his friend was and was willing to let him have some unbridled fun before he joined in.

“Go ahead, carnal,” he encouraged when he saw Lando stop and look back.

“Told you he likes to watch,” you said as you rose to your knees and met him in the middle of the bed. You combed your fingers through his hair and looked into his pretty puppy eyes, he was waiting for your guidance. You decided you quite liked looking into his eyes and pushed his chest, forcing him onto his back. “You still wanna be my toy tonight?”

“Yes, fuck yes.” He cradled your ass as you climbed up his body, straddling his chest as you looked down at him. “Use me, baby, I’ll do anything you want.”

You smirked at Carlos as you shifted and felt Lando’s tongue flick out and swipe your slit as you settled over his face. Lando’s moan quickly followed the taste before he gripped your hips and tugged you down on his lips. Like a starving man, he devoured your pussy, licking and sucking you into a frenzy until your moans grew louder, urging him on further.

“Spank her, carnal,” Carlos urged, his voice tense as he gripped his cock tightly and leaned closer in the chair. “Make her come screaming your name.”

You rocked your hips over his face as he fucked you with his tongue and jolted with the sudden flame that kissed your ass. “Harder,” you breathed as your eyes fluttered shut and your thighs clenched around his head. Lando’s hand scorched your cheek again and your head fell back as the heat spread to your cunt, spilling over his lips in waves as you cried out his name.

Then, you were airborne. Lando’s muscles tensed as he sat up with you still riding out your orgasm on his face. He flopped you onto the pillows and chuckled at the fucked out look in your eyes but he wasn’t finished with you as he buried his face back between your legs and added two thick fingers to your cunt. Your back arched as your pussy clamped around the digits, tight from the orgasm that still sent pulses throughout your body.

“Dios mio,” Carlos groaned as he rose from the bed and walked around to the drawer on your side. Your eyes could barely see him as they rolled back into your head but you heard the click of the cap from the bottle of lube. “Keep going, hermoso.”

You hadn’t noticed Lando had stopped, you were too busy watching Carlos kneel onto the bed behind Lando. The younger driver's legs were spread where he lay on his stomach between yours and his toes curled at the touch of the cold gel on his ass.

“I’ll warm it up,” Carlos promised as he gently massaged the lube around Lando’s hole, drawing a low moan from him.

You were glad the pillows held you up because your body was not functioning right as you watched Lando’s eyes close and his teeth bite his bottom lip at the finger Carlos worked inside him. Lando’s breath tickled your thighs as he moaned deeply as you combed your fingers into his curls.

“You like that, baby?” you asked knowingly. “You want Carlos to fuck you?”

“Yes…please,” he whimpered with need, rocking his hips to take it deeper. “I want him.”

Carlos added a second finger and you gasped as Lando buried his teeth in your thigh and pumped his fingers into your cunt at the same pace.

“I want you too,” Lando moaned, peering up from between your legs with dark eyes.

You looked over his shoulder to see Carlos squeezing a generous layer of gel down his thick length, lazily stroking it to spread it evenly. He was ready, and you were more than ready.

“Come on then, handsome, fuck me like you could only imagine. Take me how you want,” you dared, remembering his wish that he whispered in your ear.

“You’re going to fucking kill me,” Lando groaned as he knelt on the bed and flipped you over, pulling you hips up so you were on all fours. “And I’ll die happy.” He snapped his hips forward and buried himself in your pussy, the warm wet walls clenching around him until he bottomed out and you both moaned at how good it felt.

“Ready, hermoso?” Carlos asked as he positioned himself behind Lando, teasing his tip around his hole before gently pushing against the resistance.

Lando didn’t answer out loud. He pulled out of you, pushing himself back onto Carlos’ cock and his breath froze in his lungs as the fullness grew inch by inch. “Fuck…” he moaned breathlessly, stopping for a moment to adjust before he dragged his hips forward again and filled you.

“I’m not sure who is the toy now,” Carlos teased as Lando set himself a steady pace of fucking you and then fucking himself agaisnt Carlos with each thrust and retreat. You didn’t care if he was using you at the point, you were so far gone in your pleasure you weren’t sure you were ever going to come down. “But fuck this feels good. Your ass is perfect, cariño.”

Lando moaned at the praise and sped up, the sounds of bodies slapping together filling the hotel room just as loud as your moans. The bruising grip on your hips tightened and you reached between your legs to press a finger to your puffy clit. The growing tightness in your body surged with the added stimulation and your legs began to tremble before a fresh wave of pleasure rolled over you.

Your orgasm sent your walls pulsing around his cock and he cried out as it triggered his own, the hot ropes of his cum filling your cunt until it dripped down your quaking thighs. Carlos bit his full lip as Lando’s body clamped down around his cock and it was all too much to resist his own release. Spanish tumbled from his lips as he buried himself as deep as he could, the weight of his body pinning you to the mattress beneath Lando. Lando cried out again as he felt Carlos’ cock pulse inside him, the warmth of his seed spilling into him.

Carlos pressed a soft kiss to Lando’s shoulder before gently pulling out and collapsing to the bed panting. The weight lifted and you could breathe fully again as your boyfriend wrapped an arm around Lando, his fingertips dancing on your skin.

“That was…” Carlos couldn’t seem to find the word to describe it, but you understood.

“Yeah, it was,” you giggled.

“Definitely,” Lando confirmed, still panting in recovery as he started to sit up.

“Stay,” Carlos whispered as he pulled him back down between your bodies. “You don’t have to go.”

“Are you sure?”

You rolled over to face him and mirrored Carlos, curling an arm around his waist too so he was cocooned. “Definitely.”

#Carlando x reader #Carlando smut #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reader #lando norris smut #carlos sainz smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut

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somejazzinthemorning · 8 months

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playing cupid.

Carlos Sainz x Reader [Warnings: Mentions of sex and some curse words. There are some inaccuracies, such as in this short story, Carlos has an apartment in Milan] Word Count: 9.7K

You're in this situationship with Carlos Sainz—no fuss, no drama, just sex. But then your dads become friends, and Sainz Sr., with a soft spot for you, decides to introduce you to his son, whom you've been... acquainted with for a while. To make things more interesting, he's on a mission to play Cupid, all while Carlos enjoys the thrill of keeping your little secret, playing along with his dad.

this was a request! always feel free to request and if i have some free time, I'll try to write something 🫶🏼

“Apparently, our dads met”, you say, rolling off Carlos's lap, still flushed and your breath ragged. The soft bed cushions your fall as you curl up beneath the deep blue blanket that usually adorns the foot of Carlos's bed, but this time is just part of the mess.

Carlos studies you with a faint frown, tousled hair spilling over his forehead. He looks incredibly handsome, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. If it weren’t for the late hour and your impending early morning, you would consider straddling him again. However, it’s nearly 2 a.m. and you need to be at the atelier by 9, so you just wish to sleep.

“Really?” There’s an undertone you don’t quite understand.

“What?”

"You just killed the mood.” He lays back on the bed and turns to face you. His hands seek out your shoulder, and his nimble fingers begin tracing delicate patterns on your skin, a clear indication that he’s not ready to let the night end just yet. “Mentioning my dad right after I cum inside you? Not exactly what I expect.”

“I just remembered it, and now I know you’ll get your hands off of me and let me sleep.”

“Oh, that’s not what I was expecting, as well.”

You pout, mocking him. “Poor you,” he rolls his eyes and falls dramatically against his pillow. “I’m just expecting a good night of sleep because some of us have work to do during the week and not just on weekends.” He cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I know that sometimes you work during the week.”

Carlos opens his mouth to retort, but he doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. In an instant, he sits up, looming over you, and seizes both your wrists, pinning them against the headboard. With his other hand, he's ready to tug the blanket over your form.

"Don't you dare tickle me, Carlos Sainz. Or I swear to God—"

"What are you going to do?" Carlos interrupts, his mischievous grin returning. As you lock eyes with him, you realize there's very little you can do, and oddly enough, you're entirely fine with that. Except,

"Spit in your face."

His playful smirk remains as he leans in closer, his voice a sultry whisper. "Spit in my face, huh?” he taunts, his fingers inching closer to your sides. “Think I’m going to risk it.”

"Sainz,” you squirm under his touch, desperately trying to maintain your composure. But he’s already grinning, and his fingers are approaching your sides. “I'm warning you..."

And suddenly, it's too late. He pounces, his fingers dancing across your sides, and you burst into fits of uncontrollable laughter, some of them louder than you expected them to be. Carlos knows all your ticklish spots, and he exploits them shamelessly. It’s been what…? Four months since you first slept together. By now he knows your body better than any guy ever did. And honestly, you’re not sure what to feel about that.

"Carlos, stop!" you manage to gasp between laughter, trying to wriggle free from his grip. It's a futile effort as he continues his relentless assault, determined to elicit every giggle and squeal he can from you.

Finally, he relents, his laughter joining yours as he releases your wrists. You pant for breath, your cheeks flushed from both the laughter and the earlier efforts. You take the opportunity to jump out of bed. “You’re the worst. I gotta pee.”

You disappear into the bathroom, to pee, clean yourself and try to comb your hair, and by the time you go back to the bedroom, you’re expecting him to be asleep. But you find him awake. His eyes shine brighter when you go through the door, and he watches you with a tender smile as you enter the bed and curl against him, fitting perfectly into his embrace.

The warmth of his body against you is comforting.

"I think I'll let you sleep now," he voices low in your ear, as he pulls over the comforter and covers you both.

"You better.”

Carlos's chest rises and falls rhythmically beneath your cheek as you nestle closer. You can hear the faint hum of his heartbeat, and it lulls you into a peaceful state. He smells like Bleu de Chanel and the lingering traces of your passion. With every breath, you inhale the essence of the man who has woven himself into the fabric of your life, in more ways than one.

Just as you're about to close your eyes and drift off to sleep, it hits you like lightning—the visit your mom mentioned, the whole reason you brought up his dad’s name.

You nudge Carlos gently, rousing him from his half-asleep state. "Just remembered something."

Carlos doesn’t even open his eyes. "Hmm?”

“My dad invited yours over,” you were not sure if you should be excited or nervous. Not for the visit itself, but for Carlos’ reaction to the idea of you meeting his dad.

After all, you had just been sleeping together, barely leaving your apartments, except for that one time he took you out to dinner, and that was probably because it was your birthday and perhaps Carlos would feel bad about just booty-calling you and ignoring the whole birthday thing.

“Well, that’s a nice way to introduce you to him.”

“What?”

Carlos just pressed you closer to him, like you weren’t practically glued together already. "It's okay, cariño. They’ll love you. Now sleep."

It all started at Milan Fashion Week when Carlos was representing Ferrari at an event. You were there, lurking in the shadows, taking in the magic of the fashion show. Your mentor had gotten you there, a favour you'll always be grateful for. There's a lot you can't remember about the event, about the whole night to be fair, but you remember the man awkwardly sitting in the front row. Fashion is not his thing, you thought. You kind of knew that. You kind of knew him.

He drives for Ferrari, he's handsome, he has a thick Spanish accent and hair I would pay to touch.

And that was more than enough to make you introduce yourself at the end of the show. From there, making out in a club took a little more than two hours. To his bed, just a little bit more than that.

You continued to see each other, booty-calling each other when you were feeling horny, bored, or just lonely. Your situationship was a good deal for both parties. No strings attached, which you enjoyed because you had little time and no patience to make any kind of effort to actually maintain a relationship. And Carlos, well... he was also busy as hell, so... all good. So you never went on dates, never needed to put on expectable amounts of makeup for over-the-top dresses. Except for your birthday, when he decided to take you out, and you had to make the effort. But that was your birthday.

Other than that, you would only leave your apartments to go get food at a 24-hour store or McDonald's. You remember that one time you wanted gelato and Carlos took you to his favourite place in Milan, but... other than that, it was just sex. Okay, just sex and marathons of Game of Thrones and House of The Dragon (that led to more sex) and some cooking too. You once taught him how to make your nana's lasagna and how a true Italian bruschetta is done. And a few days later, he cooked you his mom's carbonara—not a real carbonara, not at all. And, let’s be fair, he often brought you pizza from your favourite place in Milano and expensive bottles of wine.

But… “That’s a nice way to introduce you to him”?

You were not expecting that at all.

The idea lingered in your mind all night, and you woke up thinking about it too. You left his apartment while Carlos was still in the shower, just shouting goodbyes while you gathered your stuff and ran to the atelier. He would be out of town for a couple of weeks, away at some races, and you would have time to figure out how your parents met and when said visit was going to happen. All good.

Turns out you didn't have as much time as you thought.

That afternoon, your mom calls you, excitedly recounting their amazing trip to Canada and how much fun your dad had at the race. So, that was where they met. She also shares her plans about taking your brothers to Monza in a couple of months. You nod absentmindedly, your attention more focused on the magazine in front of you than on her words. It's often like this.

Your dad travels for work and actually works. He's a sports manager, deeply passionate about football and motorsports, especially Formula 1. Lately, he's been leaning more towards the latter, especially since he's contemplating retirement. On the other hand, your mom, an ex-model who married a well-off man, has chosen to focus on being a wife and a mother, a role she fulfils with dedication. So, when they’re back home, dad has work to do, contacts to keep and your mom has… well, more than enough time to tell you everything.

"And your dad and Sainz met at the golf course, you know?" your mom continues, her voice full of admiration. "A charming young man. He was golfing with his dad too. Your father had to tell them you refused to join him on the greens."

"In that, he's absolutely right."

"So, they kept talking. They even played together, I think. And he mentioned we were going to the race, and Sainz suggested he could call, and he'd arrange a garage tour. We met him at the paddock, but we ended up not getting the tour because there were already enough guests in there, but… Isn't he just amazing? And so incredibly handsome, piccina. So handsome."

You cringe inwardly at your mom's thirst for Carlos, unable to shake the image of her ogling your... friend. But you hum in response, unable to voice your discomfort because the next moment, she's raving about a dress she bought for you and the amazing designer she met in New York just before returning to Milan, and that topic steals all attention.

But just before she’s about to hang out, you remember why she called you in the first place.

“Mom, about the visit you mentioned? The dinner?” you interject and she chuckles; you can almost envision her rubbing her temples.

"Oh, silly me. I actually called you to discuss that," she sighs. "He's coming to visit us this weekend! You have to come home and meet him; he's really looking forward to getting to know you."

"Doesn't he race this weekend?"

"The young—Since when do you care about F1?"

"I don't. I just—” You quickly think of something, but you’re not quite sure if you want to tell your mother that you’ve been fucking Sainz. The younger one. Of course. “I saw something on Twitter."

"Oh, I see. Well,” she clicks her tongue. “It's his dad who's coming. Weren’t you listening? And his mom. We invited them both. Your dad wants to take him to the club and network a bit and you know… I’m always down for making friends and Reyes seems like a lovely woman. She wasn’t there, but I’ve heard about her around. Even her name is super elegant. Isn’t it?” Once again, you hum, frowning, thinking about the movie where you just found yourself in. “So, please, come home.”

“Noted. So, this weekend?”

“Yes. Do you need Dad to pick you up tomorrow after work?”

You move in your seat. “I’m just so busy with work right now, mom. The new collection and—” She cleans her throat and you just nod to the empty room. “Okay. Yes, please, tell Dad to pick me up.”

Of course, the second you hang up you text Carlos. He’s probably busy, it’s Thursday so he’s doing interviews or something, and, as you expected, he doesn’t reply to your text right away. Despite everything, he doesn’t take too long.

Not surprisingly, he’s very nonchalant about it all.

hot wheels guy: just tell them we know each other, no big deal hot wheels guy: and we’ll tell them more when i’m back

But, yeah… You can’t help but frown looking at the phone. He’s golfed with your dad, met your mom, met again with your dad and he’s not even feeling weird about it all?

you: hm? no? hot wheels guy: why not? you: you went golfing with my dad!!! hot wheels guy: and? hot wheels guy: how would i guess he was your dad? you: how many Y/LN do you think there are in milan? you: he told you he’s from milan!! there are not a lot of us in here hot wheels guy: do you have any idea of how many people i meet every weekend? you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: stop being a brat you: 🙄 hot wheels guy: i don’t see a problem in golfing with your dad hot wheels guy: is that supposed to be weird? you: YES !!!! hot wheels guy: stop being dramatic hot wheels guy: if they say anything, tell them you know me hot wheels guy: if they don’t, don’t you: they will hot wheels guy: so you know what to do

Friday’s dinner went exceptionally well, with conversations flowing effortlessly between food and wine, despite the inevitable sports-centric discussions that seemed to dominate the evening. Your brothers were beyond ecstatic to have Carlos Sr. as a guest in their home. They'd had their fair share of famous athletes sitting at the family table, but never had they been as excited as they were when Carlos Sr. entered the house. As a result, you found yourself somewhat on the sidelines, listening more than speaking throughout the meal.

And you were grateful for that.

The same didn’t happen on Saturday. Your dad took the morning to showcase some of your work and discuss your future prospects in the fashion industry with both Carlos and Reyes. In what you think was a gesture of gratefulness, Reyes displayed a lot of interest in your little atelier, located by the pool, in what used to be a shed for the gardener. So, you spent the morning around there, talking with them about fashion and business, and then joined them for lunch in one of your dad’s favourite restaurants.

Let's be fair, you have an extraordinary way with words and a charm that makes your mother proud. It was easy for you. By the time dinner came, you were already adored by the Sainzes. Without making an effort, you found yourself talking about art and travel, and letting Sainz Sr. explain to you the magic and the challenges of Dakar.

However, it isn’t until the next morning that you find yourself alone with him.

You both sat down for breakfast on the patio, and he’s now engrossed in reading the newspaper, while you’re drinking your cappuccino and doing your best to ignore the fact that the man sitting in front of you is, in essence, your… fuckbuddy’s dad.

There’s the usual “good morning” and the “hope you got some rest”, to which the guest always has some lovely comment to say about the bed, or the room, or the house in general. It’s an amazing guest house, you have to admit. And Sainz is no expectation. You exchange a couple of pleasantries and he’s back at reading the news, so you let your guard down.

Then, unexpectedly, Carlos Sr. turns his attention from the newspaper and directs it squarely at you. Grey eyebrows lifting at the same pace his eyes fill with a weird glint.

“I would love to introduce you to my son,” he says, and a faint frown tugs at your lips as words form in your throat, only to wither away unspoken. "I'm not implying anything," he says with a hint of amusement in his voice, "just that I believe the two of you would get along well."

You respond hesitantly, "Oh, I know him."

"I know you know him," he laughs, and you realise that something might have gotten lost in translation because when he talks again he says, "But what I mean is that you should meet. I'll make sure to introduce you two next time we're all in town."

And well, you feel too embarrassed to correct him, so you just smile and mumble an “I can’t wait. Excuse me”, before getting up from the table and sprinting up to your room.

you: great news. your dad wants to introduce us you: what do i do?

He takes a couple of hours to text back.

hot wheels guy: why didn’t you tell him you know me already? you: i tried to!

The next time you’re all in town happens one week and a half from there, when Carlos is finally back in Italy after a few races and a couple of days in Madrid. And, because the universe is a pain in the ass, you’re swarmed with work to the point you’ve been falling asleep right after dinner, even before the time Carlos usually rings you up.

It’s a terrible schedule.

You’ve been waking up at 5 am to be by the seamstress at 7, to have some work ready to show at 9 am, between your mentor’s arrival at the atelier and the time he leaves for some meeting or brunch with models somewhere in Milan. Somehow, during that interval, he has time to break your work to pieces, destroying it (and destroying you in the process) with criticism. Critique leaves you on the verge of tears, and by the end of the day, you’re a mess—stressed, irritable and utterly exhausted. Not to mention the ever-present sexual frustration, with vivid dreams of a certain Spaniard leaving you hot and bothered in your sleep.

The perfect recipe for a restless night.

Apparently, Carlos got to Milan on Wednesday, because that night you woke up at midnight on your couch, a half-empty glass of wine by your side, your unfinished sketches scattered before you and three missed calls from Carlos, accompanied by a series of texts. Thursday, the same happened. The texts were nothing too dramatic, just variations of “u up?”, “cmon its 10 pm”, and “you can’t be asleep”.

On both days, in your half-sleep haze, you manage to reply as you shuffle your way to your bedroom something similar to “sory, talktomorrw”.

And then Friday arrives, and your calendar pings with the reminder that in one hour your dad will be picking you up for dinner. You’re sitting on your vanity and already dreading the day your dad decided to go to Montreal.

You’re not feeling it.

Firstly, you have to slather on a ton of make-up just to feel decent. Your dark circles are as pronounced as ever, you’re skin is pale and your acne is acting up, probably all due to the lack of sun, sleep, rest of any food that isn’t reheated pizza or store-bought noodles.

So, yes, the prospect of dinner and being introduced as Carlos’ whatever doesn’t exactly lift your spirits.

The anticipation gawns at you as you finish getting ready. You can’t shake the feeling of unease, a nagging doubt that you’re about to step into a situation that might be more than you signed up for. Carlos’ dad seems nice enough, and his mom absolutely adores you, but this is different, especially because his dad is expecting to introduce you and well… you’re way past that.

As you stare at your reflection, you take a deep breath and remind yourself that this isn't just about you. Your brothers are looking forward to meeting Carlos, and your dad seems genuinely excited about his friendship with his dad. So, you summon a smile, albeit a forced one, and decide to make the most of this evening, even if you're not entirely sure what to expect.

Yeah. Scratch that. The dinner is about you.

As you approach the restaurant, a different sense of anticipation washes over you. It feels like a scene from a movie where you're about to meet an arranged husband. The Sainz family stands by the door, engaged in lively conversation. Reyes waves at you when she sees you making your way to them.

Your eyes naturally gravitate toward Carlos. Firstly, because you kind of miss him. It’s been a while since you last saw him and there’s no point in looking for comfort somewhere else, so you are, let's say… slightly needy. And secondly, because he’s clad in a baby blue button-up and pristine white pants. A vision. You're only human, after all, with eyes and perhaps a few too many hormones.

In summary: You’re fucked. Dinner will be fun.

From your back and close to your ear, a whisper arises. “Be nice,” your mom says. As you turn to her, her lips are curling into a wide smile. “Carlos! Reyes! Such a delight to see you both again. And, Carlos,” she turns to the younger one, “it’s an absolute pleasure to finally see you in a more personal environment.”

You take a deep breath.

Your brothers, bursting with energy, practically race each other to get to Carlos, almost taking you down in the process. He skillfully engages them in conversation, a grin playing on his lips, until your mom intervenes.

"Now, now, boys. You'll have plenty of time to chat," she chuckles. Your mom swiftly moves your overeager brothers and offers an apologetic smile to Carlos. "Apologies, they're just excited.”

“No problem,” he says, in Italian, something he doesn’t do often when he’s alone with you. He claims he still needs to learn dirty talk in Italian. You love to teach him by whispering it into his ear. More than that, you love watching his face as he slowly grasps their meaning.

Your dad, then, approaches him for a way-too-manly handshake, but a warm smile reigns on his lips. “Carlos, great to see you again.”

“Thank you, sir. Likewise.”

In the meantime, you went to Reyes. She graced you with a compliment, a kiss on the cheek and the promise to visit your atelier in the near future. Then, it’s time for her husband, and you’re already wearing your best smile because that man is beaming as he’s watching you.

“My dear,” after two kisses on the cheeks, he slightly turns to Carlos. “So nice to see you again. Son,” he calls, and Carlos turns to you, his smile radiant, his eyes sparkling under the warm, ambient lights of the restaurant. “Let me introduce you to Y/N.”

"You're even more beautiful than my mom described," he remarks, his words catching you off guard. You manage to suppress the urge to roll your eyes, opting instead for a faint smile. “My dad has shared so much about you. Couldn’t wait to meet you.”

A surge of mixed emotions washes over you. On one hand, there's a twinge of frustration that he didn't tell his family about your connection, correcting your mistake and saving you from embarrassment. Yet, as his adoring gaze meets yours, it's hard not to be swept away by his warm compliments.

“Oh,” you murmur, feeling something shift inside you. Your own words surprise you, leaving you momentarily at a loss. "Thank you. Likewise."

Unknown to you, you echo almost exactly what Carlos had just said to your dad. The similarity draws a chuckle from Senior, who seems to find the exchange quite entertaining. Carlos chuckles as well and motions to the restaurant with his head.

“Should we?”

As the evening progresses, you can't help but steal glances at Carlos when you think no one is looking. You catch his eye occasionally, and he responds with subtle winks and sly smirks that send shivers down your spine. It's almost like a secret language only the two of you understand. He’s sitting in front of you, of course.

“Piccina,” your mom calls. “Why don’t you tell Carlos about your job?”

With a smile, you turned to face Carlos. He raises his eyebrows in curiosity, and you have to take a second before answering. He’s no stranger to your job. Not at all. Sometimes he even lands a helping hand, providing some foot massages while you’re working through tight deadlines and he doesn’t take “no” for an answer when he asks if he can come over.

So you simply say, “I’m a fashion designer.”

“Oh,” it’s the polite oh, not the filled-with-curiosity one. You know he’s about to say something stupid when his tongue peeks through his lips and the corner of his lips starts raising, moulding his mouth in a smirk. “So you just play dress-up for a living?”

Laughter bubbled up from one of your brothers, earning him a scolding look from your mom. They’re just nine, which makes them fifteen years younger than you. Fondly referred to as "an accident" by your parents, they were the light of your life, even if they were quite the whirlwind.

“And you, Carlos, you just play with cars on the weekends?” Carlos's eyes gleamed with mischief as he looked down, a chuckle escaping him. Sr. Carlos wore a pleased smile, and a delightful warmth settled in your belly.

"Some might find it hard to believe, but we do manage to squeeze in some actual work during the week," Carlos chimed in, earning a laugh from you. "Have you ever been to a race?”

“No, and I don’t intend to.”

"The boys are the true racing enthusiasts,” your dad chimes in. “The girls prefer to stay at home, or walk around when we travel for a Grand Prix.”

Turning to you, Carlos's eyes danced with mischief. You remembered a previous conversation where he'd tried to persuade you to attend the Italian Grand Prix, just a few weeks away. Wanting to stop him, because he’s so predictable that you just know what he’s about to say, you try to change the subject.

“Talking about races, are you playing on doing Dakar again next year, Signore?”

Carlos dismisses your question right away. "I think your perspective might change once you experience a Grand Prix firsthand.”

And this time, Carlos Sr. joins him. "Why not extend an invitation for them to visit the garage? I'm sure the kids will love the opportunity. And, Y/N, I’m sure you’ll find it all exciting. You seem like a curious girl.”

Carlos beamed. "Consider this an invitation. I can't wait to have you all there.”

Your brothers practically have a collective stroke, their young minds struggling to process the idea of visiting Carlos in the garage. As for your dad, despite his time in the paddock, had never had the chance to visit the Ferrari garage, so, despite keeping his composure, you know how much it means to him—he’s undeniably the most fervent tifoso you'd ever known.

With a grateful smile, you spoke up. "That's incredibly kind of you. Thank you.”

Carlos leans comfortably against his Alfa Romeo parked in easy reach of your dad’s Audi. Your brothers are sleeping in the back seat, while your parents conclude their chat. They’re getting along well, which is weird but comforting to some degree.

You shoot Carlos a serious glance. “How much longer are you going to keep up with this little thing you started?”

“Me? May I remind you that you were the one who didn’t tell him we met?” You roll your eyes at his words and grab the door knob. “Wait. Don’t you see he’s trying to set us up?”

“And?”

“Play along. Let him have it.”

There's a moment of silent understanding, the shared secret between you adding an extra layer of intimacy. Despite it all, you crack a smile.

“You’re so childish.” You say. “You’ll be the one who’s gonna tell him.”

“I’ll tackle that when we get there,” Carlos assures. And slowly, a playful glint shines in his eyes. “Should I swing by your place on my way home?”

“No way. I have work tomorrow, a lot of work to do and I can’t afford to be tired to do it.”

He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You can stay at mine, then. And I could drive you to work. It’ll give you an extra thirty minutes of sleep.”

You chuckle, impressed by his attention to detail. “You don’t even know where I work.”

“Of course, I do,” he assures.

That’s new. “Well,” you take a deep breath and discreetly hand him over your apartment keys. “I won’t ring the bell because the old lady on my floor will listen and I think she’s spying on me. I’ll call when I’m there.”

As you're about to bid him goodnight, your dad's voice calls out from a distance, catching Carlos's attention. He waves warmly and flashes a friendly smile, which Carlos mimics.

“Golf on Sunday?” your dad asks.

Carlos's eyes light up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Can't wait!”

You can't help but interject, “Golfing with my dad, again? What the heck are you doing?”

Carlos grins. “Finding a golfing partner, since someone here,” he gestures playfully at you, “refuses to join me. And unfortunately, my dad isn't always around in Italy to tag along.”

You roll your eyes in mock exasperation. “Alright, Sainz. Nice to meet you. See you soon.”

He drives you to work and to your surprise, he actually knows where that is. How? You can’t tell. Apparently, he also remembers that you bring breakfast for your mentor on Saturdays because just before he drops you off, he offers to join you for a few minutes, just to pick up breakfast with you.

“Since you’ve got no time to eat with me, I’ll just tag along and annoy you for ten minutes more.”

You let him enter the coffee shop with you and he hovers on your back while you order two moccas and two brownies to go with it. Your mentor is not picky, and this Saturday breakfast tradition only started because you wanted to thank him for granting you a few hours from his weekend to help you with your designs. Technically, it’s not work, but it’s just as demanding.

You can feel Carlos’ breath against your hair, and the faint smell of his cologne, still hanging in his shirt from the previous night. This morning, the buttons are undone, and the sleeves are folded up. His hair is tousled and his beard is imperfect. Yet he’s the most handsome man around.

“First time picking up breakfast together,” he says as you’re walking towards the door. “Is this the equivalent to marriage in your dictionary?”

“Don’t make me regret all the past decisions I’ve made.”

“Hm,” he hums, tilting his head. “What could I possibly make you regret?”

“Simply the fact of accepting to be introduced to you,” You let an exaggerated sigh leave your lips. “I’m living the nightmare all over again.”

Just before leaving a kiss on your cheek, he whispers. “Didn’t sound like a nightmare when I made you come thrice last night, baby. But go off.” He then kisses you on the cheek. “Have a good day.”

Carlos is too busy that night, and your Sunday is reserved for a family gathering. By Monday, you're back to your routine of nodding off right after dinner, so by the time Tuesday arrives, you’re already missing him. Not him—just his body in your bed, the sensation of his thick lips sliding down your navel and the sound of your name rolling off his tongue, wrapped up in that beautiful deep Spanish accent of his. You know he’s driving next weekend, so you spend all Wednesday staring at your phone, trying to summon a text from him.

When it finally pings, around 5 pm, it’s from your dad.

papà: heading to squash in an hour. up for a game? papà: no use in saying no papà: you already missed two weeks you: 🙄🙄🙄 you: i’ll meet you there!

You were the one who introduced your dad to squash, and gradually, it evolved into a bonding activity for both of you. Words don't flow easily with him, and you’re not great at demonstrating feelings so it’s difficult to connect with your dad. On top of that, you moved out really early. Slowly squash became a great way to connect and have quality time with him, release some steam, and stay in shape.

“I’m surprised. You never mentioned that you play squash,” a voice chimes in from behind, and you can't help but let out a sigh when you turn around.

It's Carlos, donned in a stupidly tight turquoise shirt that perfectly hugs and draws the contour of his chest, and sporting the briefest shorts you've ever seen him wear. He smiles. He knows he looks hot.

“How could I?” You reply, trying to not showcase how weak your knees just turned. “We only met like… five days ago.”

Carlos chuckles. “You’re funny. Did I tell you that yet?”

“Hmmm. You haven’t had the chance, yet.”

Sainz Sr. approaches you both, moving at a leisurely pace, absorbed in his phone. When he looks up, his frown disappears and an adoring smile takes his lips. His hand rests on his son’s shoulder as he remarks, “Didn’t I tell you today would be a perfect day for a match?”

Carlos turns to you, raising an eyebrow. "You did. What a coincidence.”

"Indeed," you chime in. "May I challenge you, sir? My dad’s still on a call and I have no partner."

“Oh, Carlos can join you,” he suggests with a nod in Carlos’ direction. “I’ll wait for your dad. We have some matters to discuss. Carry on, you two.”

Of. Course.

As the two of you step onto the squash court, the competitive glint in Carlos' eyes is hard to miss. And the tension in the air is palpable, you feel it in your bones. But you take a deep breath and push it aside, focusing on the game ahead.

"Why the sudden cold shoulder?" Carlos inquires as you prepare to start.

You glance at him, puzzled. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm getting radio silence from you—no calls, no texts. You're not picking up my calls, either. What’s going on?"

You roll your neck, trying to ease the tension. Yesterday you just collapsed onto your couch, once again. You were living in survival mode. And wouldn’t be there playing if it wasn't a long-standing tradition with your dad.

"Work's been keeping me busy," you shrug.

It's not entirely a lie. But it’s not totally true either.

Let’s see—you've been involved in this situationship for almost five months now, seeing each other sporadically, sometimes even daily, if Carlos is in Milan. Yet, it's all so casual. You can recall the day he mentioned introducing you to his parents, of course. As a matter of fact, that talk has been looping in your mind for the last few days, but… it was a joke. Right? Sure it was. Why would he want his parents to meet his... whatever?

You could have texted him earlier. You would have texted him a few weeks ago, before all this. You can’t quite figure out why you’re panicking and why you’re behaving like a rom-com character, but you are.

"Come on, that excuse won't stick with me."

“Too bad. Can we play?" You grip the racket, twirling it in your hands. You look back, at his dad sitting on the benches, watching you from afar. “Please?”

He lets out a sigh and nods. Finally, you think.

"Is this a date?" he asks, grabbing a ball from his shorts and meeting your gaze.

"No." You're firm, and once again, he frowns. "It's not. For one, you didn't invite me. We just happened to both be here. It's coincidental.” He laughs here, slightly tilting his head back. You both know it is not coincidental. “And two, that's not what we're doing."

He cracks a smile, almost teasing. "So, what are we not doing?"

"The dating thing. We're not dating."

"Aren't we?" He smirks, his tongue peeking out, licking his lips.

You shake your head. "Nope."

"Alright, cool. Just wanted to be clear on that," Carlos replies with a nonchalant shrug, though you detect a glimmer of amusement in his voice. He’s as annoying as he’s pretty.

The first serve is swift and precise. The sound of the ball hitting the wall reverberates through the court. You dive into the game, putting your all into each movement. It's a dance of strategy and agility. You’re exhausted, but you put on a fight, using banter as your weapon. On the outside, your parents are watching, and you can’t help but notice Sainz Sr. is thoroughly enjoying this.

Sweat starts to bead on your foreheads, but neither of you shows any sign of slowing down. He wants to win and well… you want to make him lose. As you play, you steal glances at Carlos, his concentration evident in the set of his jaw and the fire in his eyes, in the curse words he whispers under his breath, ones that frustration draws from him. You’ve heard them before. Oh, God, you’ve heard so much worse. But it all combined? This is a side of him you haven't seen before, and it's exhilarating.

After a particularly intense rally, Carlos manages to secure a point with a deftly placed shot. He smirks, clearly pleased with himself. "You're not making this easy," he remarks.

You grin, determined. "Wouldn't want to go easy on you, now, would I?"

The court echoes with the sound of sneakers squeaking against the floor and the thud of the ball hitting the walls. Time seems to blur as you lose yourself in the rhythm of the game. He makes you laugh and shout insults in his direction, to which he laughs.

Finally, after a hard-fought match, Carlos clinches the victory. It's a close call, and you’re about to pass out. It’s a shitty mixture of disappointment and pride. Leaning against the wall of the court, you try toth catch your breath.

"You're pretty good at this," Carlos admits, wiping the sweat from his brow with a towel.

"Yeah, well, I have to stay in shape to keep up with you," you quip.

He chuckles, "Am I that demanding?"

"Am I that demanding?" You repeat, forcing a Spanish accent and a deep voice. He chuckles and stands up straight. "Did your dad tell you to come here today?"

"Yes. For some reason, he really likes you. Like I told you he would."

You can't help but chuckle at Carlos's words. "Well, he’s certainly enjoying playing cupid. But hey, fun game.”

Carlos nods a genuine smile on his face. "Yeah, it was. Finally got to see you outside the flat. It's quite weird to see you with clothes at this point."

"Oh, God, you're such a prick."

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Can I drop by later today?"

You glance toward your parents, who are engaged in a lively conversation, and then back at Carlos.

"No. Early morning tomorrow. And I still have work to finish today.” You’re not lying to him, you’re lying to yourself. Even when he’s looking at you with puppy eyes, you don’t go back with your words. Instead, you stand up straight and fix your hair. “Should I expect to coincidently meet you somewhere else in the next few days?"

You know the answer to that question. You know he’s going to be away for two weekends. And you kinda know he knows you know, because when he answers, there’s the faintest smile on his lips.

"I'll be off for two weeks. Hungary and Belgium.”

"Good luck at those, then.”

“Really appreciate it.”

Yeah, so…. That night, Carlos texted you. Not a casual “u up?”, but a “it was so fucking unfair to see you in that skirt and not being able to fuck you in it” and naturally you couldn’t help but to let out an exasperated groan and promptly respond with a “come over.” So, twenty minutes later you were being screwed against your kitchen counter.

And now you’re on the couch, his head buried between your legs, eating you up like a starved man. Yes. You need to be fit to keep up with this man’s stamina. He’s that demanding. But you can’t complain.

It’s been like this. A lot of pleasure. And then a lot of peace of mind.

Afterwards, he reclines on the chaise lounge, scrolling through TV channels, looking for something remotely bearable. You go get your sketch notebook and use his torso as a pillow. He watches tv and you work, until sleep creeps over you and you fall asleep in his arms.

Five months of this. You can’t put a label on it, but you can’t imagine living without it.

Carlos only wakes you up to take you to bed, and that night he sleeps over, sprawled across your bed like a starfish, leaving you clinging to him to not fall over. In the morning, you make out in bed, lazy and sleepy. He fucks you in the shower, and then he’s off again. He texts you when he's at the airport, and once more when he lands in whichever country he's racing in. Meanwhile, you carry on with your everyday life—a bit more mundane than being fuckbuddies with a Scuderia Ferrari driver but just as busy.

As it became regular, you exchange a few texts while he's away. It's become a ritual—complimenting him on how handsome he looks after his sessions, and him requesting a selfie so he can return the favour. He sends you snapshots of random things that made him think of you, and if truth be told, you do the same. You share selfies as you stroll by the Ferrari store in Milan and send him memes (which sometimes require a brief explanation). Without fail, he sends you a good morning and a good night, and whenever you're awake, you make sure to reply.

And life happens for those two weeks.

It’s boring. It’s dull. It’s ordinary.

And then on a Monday evening your bell rings and you can’t help but leave your apartment and wait for him on the landing, right in front of the elevator, not caring if your neighbour is watching through the peephole.

“Missed me?” he quips, already unburdening himself of his backpack as he steps out of the elevator. Sunglasses perched atop his head, skin kissed by the sun, eyes wide like the moon. He’s the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.

“Never,” you jest, but it's a flimsy façade, quickly shattered as you pull him close, urgency coursing through you.

Damn, you've missed him. You crave him.

And he craves you too. He's straightforward in showing it.

After you both shower, you settle on the couch. You ask him about why he had two races that weekend and he teases you because you finally demonstrate an interest in F1, and only then, after you’re insulting him and threatening to not go to Monza, he actually explains to you how a sprint weekend works, but he’s being so nerdy and so adorable and his eyes are sparkling so much that you just get back in his lap and ride him again, but this time slower, and more passionate, like you’re feeling something materialise inside you. And you come on his lap, and he kisses you slowly, and you tell him you actually missed him.

For dinner, you agree on sushi and night falls while you’re watching The Office for the only-God knows-how-many time, curled up in each other and drinking wine.

Apparently, there’s a mandatory period of vacations in F1 and unfortunately, it doesn’t match your own. So, Carlos is away with friends and family, in boats and islands in the Mediterranean, and you’re torn between Roma, Venice and Milan, assisting in campaign photoshoots.

Your days are long, exhausting and you’re tired and wishing you could be suntanning somewhere in Greece, but you’re sitting on a train, pushing small talk with your colleagues so you won’t fall asleep and drool over yourself.

Until a notification pops up on your phone, and you drop everything you’re saying because there’s a small chance that is a photo from Carlos, or some text, or just a reminder of his existence. You mentally slap yourself. When did you get that dependent?

But it’s just an email. And it’s from your mom.

You frown.

She doesn’t usually use email. Nor is interested in art galleries in Madrid.

You read through the details and you notice something interesting. The invitation has been forwarded from none other than Carlos Sainz Sr. And it makes you laugh. You take a screenshot that you send to Carlos.

you: so, your dad's moonlighting as an art promoter now? did you fire him? hot wheels guy: seems like it. he said he was going to invite you hot wheels guy: and no, i didn’t fire him primarily because he doesn’t work for me you: well it actually does sound interesting hot wheels guy: so you’re coming? you: perhaps hot wheels guy: it’s a good chance for you to meet my sisters you: don’t you have like a dog for me to meet, too? hot wheels guy: two, piñon and oil hot wheels guy: oli is a really jealous girl. i doubt she will like you you: looking forward to meet them. and your sisters too, of course hot wheels guy: and about me? you: i already met you twice. don’t need another introdution

One week later, you’re in Madrid. Sainz Sr. arrives home while you’re talking with Reyes in the kitchen, while she cooks gazpacho for lunch. Oli is in your lap, licking your cheek as your fingers get lost in the small white waves of her fur.

“Hope you get here easily. Did you take an Uber?” Sainz says right after gracing you with a small hug and two polite kisses on the cheeks. Before paying, he also leaves a pat on Oli’s head.

“Carlos picked me up at the airport, actually.”

A pleased smile creeps across Sainz Sr.'s face, like a child in a candy shop. He glances over at Carlos, who's lounging on the couch, a few meters from you.

“She’s a guest.” He points out. You didn’t even realise he was listening to your conversation. You wonder if he was listening to what you and Reyes were saying before. “I wouldn’t have let her take an Uber.”

“You’re getting along well,” the dad points out. “Doesn’t surprise me.”

Between the art and the hushed corridors of the gallery, you often find yourselves alone. A stolen kiss in the quiet garden, where the fragrance of blooming flowers mingles with the electric charge between you. And then another, amidst the art, when the room empties and you’re left in the silence of creativity, where the only beauty that matters is reflected in the depths of his eyes.

He holds your hand and listens to your explanations about art and strokes and colour theory. And he calls you a nerd. Of course, he does. And you laugh and look at each other, and kiss again, not caring if there’s someone around.

When you come back home, his sisters and parents are still in the living room, so you sit with them, still wearing your cocktail dress and Carlos still looking gorgeous in his tuxedo. You picked up churros on your way home, so you’re just basking in the serenity and the domesticity of it all. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter weaving through the air. You share stories, revealing snippets of your lives to his family, like they’re slowly becoming yours.

Ana. Blanca. Oli. Reyes. Carlos. And your Carlos, who looks at you with a warmth in his eyes that is capable of melting every cell of your body.

You can get used to this.

You only spend one night in Madrid. You sleep over at the Sainz’s—Reyes didn’t let you consider a hotel, so she prepared one of the guest rooms in advance. Surprisingly, it’s not the first time you and Carlos sleep under the same roof without having sex, but it’s the first time you do so in separate beds. And you feel restless. You lay in bed, your gaze fixed on the wall as if by sheer will, it will become transparent and grant you a view of him sleeping—the contours of his face softened in serenity, his lashes grazing his cheekbones.

According to Google, Autodromo Nazionale Monza is exactly 39 minutes away from your flat by car. Which isn’t a lot.

You’re not sure what to wear, or what’s exactly going to happen.

It’s Friday. It’s his birthday. He looks gorgeous in the photos that everyone is posting. You just need to get to the track, meet your parents and take your family to the garage. It’s as simple as that.

But you haven’t seen Carlos for more than a week, and the idea of finally seeing him is consuming you.

So you dump your worries in your wardrobe. You search for the few Ferrari pieces you have in your closet and you put out an outfit, and make-up and pretend you’re just going to an event you know nothing about. Because that’s almost the case.

Between the small crowd and the electric atmosphere and the midst of the symphony of roaring engines, you spot your parents and your brothers—their eyes wide with wonder. They’re donning Ferrari shirts and hats, each one with a different number on their clothes.

This blend of family and racing feels strangely comforting.

There’s a guy waiting for you by the entrance, with your passes. You follow him. He asks about the ride to the circuit, if it's your first time, and you can actually relieve some of the anticipation with that small talk. But you’re taking so long.

The corridor leading to the garages seems to stretch endlessly, each step an eternity.

"He's in the garage, preparing for the session. You'll have to be quick," the man informs you, but his words are mere background noise. All that matters is Carlos, and he's waiting. That's all you need.

Stepping into the garage, the noise amplifies. It's a chaotic dance of technicians and engineers, each absorbed in their tasks. You scan the frenetic scene, searching for him, but his absence is louder than the noise.

“Carlos must be arriving. Boys,” he drops to your brothers. “Want to see the car up close?”

Of course, they say yes, and they follow the man. Your dad tags along and your mother? Well, she’s apparently very interested in the sport, as well.

The first Sainz you see is Carlos’ cousin, to whom you’ve been not introduced yet, but who quickly recognizes you. You introduce yourself, and he chuckles and you say you’re “Carlos’ friend”. And then Sainz Sr. appears, with Carlos right beside him, talking to a tall skinny guy.

And God. He’s a vision in that damned racing suit.

Time seems to slow as he approaches, and when he turns to you, his eyes light up with a radiant smile. The world fades away.

“Happy birthday,” is all that occurs to you.

And a “thank you for being here,” is all that he can say before being dragged away to the screens.

This time it isn’t Reyes or Sainz Sr., but Carlos who invites your family for dinner. It's an offer you simply can't refuse, and even though your brothers are practically nodding off from fatigue, the moment they step inside the Hotel de la Ville, and notice where they are, exhaustion seems to magically dissipate.

The entire day was amazing, but you’ve barely had a chance to be near Carlos. So, as he finally takes his seat across from you, the desire to kiss him simmers just beneath your skin, burning you whole. He's clad in his signature red shirt, his unruly hair falling playfully over his forehead. And he’s wearing white jeans, which makes the colour of his tanned skin intensify.

Caught in the act of admiring him, you see him move his eyebrows. You roll your eyes and swiftly adjust your position in the chair, refocusing on your dads’ intense discussion about the latest football market moves.

“Piccina,” your mother chimes in. “You never told me about the Madrid trip. The gallery. Was it nice?”

You glance at your mother and then at the whole table. Carlos has that playful twinkle in his eyes, clearly anticipating to hear you stutter as you try to talk about the exhibition. Well, you did pay attention to the art, of course, but what remains in your mind is the way Carlos’ eyes always managed to drift to you, no matter which room you were in.

“It was beautiful, Mom,” you reply, offering her a warm smile. “I’ve already told Carlos how grateful I am for the invite.” At the head of the table, Sainz Sr. smiles at you, with a simple yet approving nod. “The other Carlos tagged along with me. He got to learn a lot about art. Right, junior?”

Carlos leans to you, propping his elbows on the table, a trace of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"I have to admit, you managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting."

Thankfully, Sainz Sr.'s hearty laughter momentarily steals everyone's attention, giving you a chance to regain your composure. Your cheeks are warm, and from the feeling of them, you know they’re red. You managed to make even the dullest of rooms seem interesting. And he smiles, because he knows you badly you’re falling.

"Well, that's impressive,” your dad chimes.

And you're not sure if he's complimenting Carlos's smooth line or your ability to be a guide. So you ignore him and try to play it cool.

“So,” your mom continues, her hand resting on your arm, her curiosity fully piqued. "You two spent a good time together in Madrid?"

You share a subtle glance with Carlos before nodding. "Yes, we did. It was a great exhibition."

A brief hush falls over the table and you can’t help but feel like you’re under a microscope and everyone can see through you. Carlos’ gaze, steady and unwavering, is locked onto you, and you feel yourself softening, captured in his attention.

“Well,” Sainz Sr., who's been quietly observing, interjects with a warm smile. "It seems like you two have been getting along quite well."

Carlos chuckles and looks down, his fingers lightly tapping the rim of his glass. You both exchange a quick look, a silent understanding passing between you.

It’s time.

"Actually," you start, "we've been getting along really, really well."

Reyes leans in. "Oh? Do tell."

“We’ve been…” You hesitate, glancing at Carlos for support.

He meets your gaze. “Dating,” he completes your sentence with a confident smile. “We’ve been dating for a while now. Six, seven-ish months?”

Sainz Sr.’s eyes light up, and then he furrows his brows, clearly processing the information. You can’t help but chuckle as you watch the gears turning in his mind.

“That’s before—way before I… introduced you.”

“In my defence,” you chime in. “I did try to tell you we’ve already met before. Blame your son. He’s the one who decided to play with you for so long.”

“Well, this is… wonderful news.” Sainz Sr. beams. You steak a glance at Carlos, knowing he’s definitely going to tease you about how genuinely pleased you looked after revealing the truth. “So, seven months, eh? Okay. When’s the wedding? And when do I get Carlos the 3rd?”

I had so much fun writing this one!!! I used every little break at work to write this. It's a bit different than what I usually write, so all feedback is appreciated. Thank you for the request! 🫶

#Carlos Sainz #Carlos Sainz Jr #Carlos Sainz x Reader #Carlos Sainz x You #Carlos Sainz Smut #Carlos Sainz Fanfic #Carlos Sainz Imagine #Formula 1 x Reader #Formula 1 x You #F1 x Reader #F1 x You #F1 Imagine #F1 One Shot #Driver x Reader #F1 Driver x Reader #Driver x You #F1 Driver x You #F1 Fanfic #FanF1ction

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csainzoperator · 1 month

Text

drunk bf texts ☆

summary: drunk bf texts from f1 drivers (i've excluded checo, I FEEL LIKE HE'S TOO OLD OK?? its the kids im sorry 😭😭)

warnings: fem pronouns, mentions of drinking, drunk f1 drivers, suggestive, slight nsfw (only oscar's), daddy kink (in max's), typos as they're drunk,

charles, carlos, lewis, george, max

oscar, lando, alex, logan, daniel

an: hope u guys like it 🫶🏼🫶🏼

LMFAO i had a BLAST making these ‼️

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sunny44 · 1 month

Text

Lost in the Paddock

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Girlfriend!reader

Warnings: none, just a lil blurb

Summary: A few drivers got an eye on Carlos girlfriend.

The paddock was bustling as always, and I walked through it trying to find the Ferrari garage. It was easy to get lost in the confusion of teams, mechanics, and journalists, and that's exactly what happened to me.

Carlos and I have been together for 4 years, but I had never been to a race before and was trying to find my way around. I was already familiar with his world, so that's why we decided to keep our relationship hidden.

As I walked, I could feel the curious looks of some reporters, fans, and even some drivers since I was wearing the Ferrari badge.

Among them were drivers like Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, and Charles Leclerc, and from what Carlos told me about them, I knew they were cool.

Lando was the first to approach, with his bright and confident smile.

"Hey, you seem lost. Need any help?" I smiled politely, trying not to reveal my nervousness.

"Yeah, I'm actually very lost," I smiled nervously, and he chuckled.

"I'm Lando, by the way."

"Oh, I know your name, I'm Y/n.”

"It's a beautiful name. Just like the owner." He smiled, and I saw Max and Charles approaching.

"Thank you. Actually, I'm looking for the Ferrari garage."

"Or you could come with me to Red Bull. Our garage is much cooler, and I'm Max, by the way." I felt flattered by their attention, and I had to hold back from laughing because they really had no idea who I was.

"He's lying, the Ferrari garage is much better, and I would love to take you there."

He smiled, and if I didn't love Carlos, surely that smile and those dimples would have won me over.

I was startled when I felt arms around my waist and recognized the hands immediately.

"Hiii baby.” I turned and held his face, kissing him.

"Hey hermosa, I thought you'd arrive later," he smiled and looked at the three behind me. “Why the shocked faces? And what are you doing around my girlfriend?"

"She's your girlfriend?" Lando asked shocked.

"Wait, you have a girlfriend?" Charles said.

"Since when?" This time it was Max.

"Like 4 years ago," he said.

"4 YEARS?" Lando shouted and got a slap from Max.

"Why do you look so shocked? As if it were impossible for me to have a girlfriend."

“It's just that she's WOW, and you're you," Lando said, and I laughed.

“Oh, thanks for calling me ugly."

“It's not that, it's just that she's way out of your league.”

“And way more out of yours so back off and stop drooling, all three of you.” he said, taking my hand.

"Bye, boys, it was nice meeting you, and thanks for the help.” I said, waving to them.

“You don't think I'm ugly, do you?" He asked, and I started laughing.

“Of course not, in fact, I think you're very very hot." I gave him a peck on the cheek, and he smiled as we headed to the Ferrari garage.

Bonus scene!

Carlossainz Instagram stories

“Yes, I have a hot girlfriend!!!!!”

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maplesyrupsainz · 1 month

Text

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙everyone knows | CS55˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: carlos sainz x ferrari admin!reader y/n (she/her)

genre: social media au, established relationship

warnings: none just fluff as usual!

summary: in which your boyfriend moves teams but that doesn't stop you from simping in the comments

a/n: i jus put carlos in red bull!!! & used random pics from old era tbh so kind of disregard tht lolz

request!!!: after Carlos moves to a new team , reader who still works for Ferrari now simps over Carlos in the comments in Carlos' new team post's (like.. the one on the left is a hottie) with Ferraris account too lol

prequel

my masterlist

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername 📍 abu dhabi

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, and 481,263 others

yourusername his last race in ferrari ❤️

view all 13,092 comments

user4 dont remind me

user5 our fav couple forced to work apart how could they do this 💔💔💔

liked by yourusername

user6 WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

carlossainz55 had the best season with you ❤️

yourusername love you

carlossainz55 i love you forever

user7 some of u acting like they breaking up LOL

user8 tbh im excited to see carlos at red bull next season 🤷‍♀️

user9 me too!!!

user10 forza ferrari 💔💔

scuderiaferrari 📍 bahrain

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, and 883,137 others

scuderiaferrari finally here for the start of the 2025 season how are we all feeling? 👀

tagged: charles_leclerc, lewishamilton

view all 17,162 comments

user11 lewis in red 🫨

user12 still not used to seeing carlos NOT in ferrari red

user13 we miss him.....

user14 everyone shutup and appreciate lewis lol

user15 how are WE feeling??! how are YOU feeling girl!!!

user16 ferrari admin found crying

carlossainz55 📍 bahrain

liked by scuderiaferrari, yourusername, and 780,124 others

carlossainz55 life in navy blue

view all 12,341 comments

user17 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

user18 so proud of u carlos

user19 i luv him and y/n sm

scuderiaferrari woof woof woof

carlossainz55 hi ferrari.

scuderiaferrari heyyy hahahhh soo.....u single?

carlossainz55 😀 urm.

user20 she is so weird im obsessed with it

maxverstappen1 glad to have you back 🙂

carlossainz55 glad to be back!!

redbullracing 💙💙

liked by carlossainz55

redbullracing 📍 jeddah

liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername, and 834,988 others

redbullracing race weekend!!

tagged: maxverstappen1, carlossainz55

view all 9,136 comments

user21 love seeing them back racing together

user22 💙💙💙💙💙💙

user23 waiting for a y/n comment tbh

user24 my fav duo

maxverstappen1 💙

kellypiquet 💙

scuderiaferrari omg who is that in the second pic???? sooo hot is he single??

user25 😂😂😂😂😂

redbullracing our new rookie driver🥹

scuderiaferrari no way...he looks familiar though?

carlossainz55 it's me, hi

charles_leclerc ferrari admin please refrain from simping for other team's drivers

scuderiaferrari ferrari admin plz stop simping😂😂😂 shut up nerd

user26 omg i just screamed my head off hahaha

twitter ->

messages ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, maxverstappen1, and 532,711 others

yourusername little race dump

view all 7,293 comments

user30 is that her & carlos omg 😭

user31 realest girl ever

user32 my fav simpee

user33 does she ever go in the rb garage for carlos or wear their merch 🤔

kellypiquet 💙💙

liked by yourusername

user34 they're friends?

user35 she's so normal on this account

user36 she lets her feral side out on ferrari account 😭

carlossainz55 gorgeous girl

yourusername no u

carlossainz55 true i am a gorgeous girl

redbullracing 📍 australia

liked by scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, and 891,367 others

redbullracing another great weekend!

tagged: carlossainz55, maxverstappen1

view all 10,718 comments

user37 my fav team

user38 oh hi charles in the back

user39 y/n using charles as an excuse to comment when?

user40 legendaryyy

scuderiaferrari so proud of our boy!!! 🫶

redbullracing we're looking after him dont worry

scuderiaferrari 🥹🥹🥹

user41 omg this is surprisingly wholesome

user42 i love ferrari admin she just wants carlos to be happy wherever he is

user43 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

carlossainz55 posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 423,728 others

user44 AWWWWW STOP IT

user45 omg i just screamed

user46 i LOVE her

charles_leclerc she's a real one

pierregasly everyone's fav red bull fan in red clothing

landonorris awww look at everyone's fav f1 team social media admin xx

yourusername .......ur lucky i love you

THE END ❤️💙

#f1 #f1 smau #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #smau #f1 fic #f1 imagine #carlos sainz #carlos sainz fanfic #cs55 #cs55 smau #cs55 fluff #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader #maddie's smau

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nayziiz · 3 days

Text

Speed | CS55

Summary: In a chance encounter at a gas station, a mysterious woman on a Yamaha YZF R6 catches the attention of Carlos, a charming Ferrari driver. Little did they know the journey they would both go on.

Warning: Smut, fluff

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x OC (Lola)

Masterlist

Chapter 5

Lola wheeled her bike out of the garage and into the driveway, and Carlos followed behind her, his eyes fixed on her with a mixture of admiration and excitement. He watched as she effortlessly manoeuvred the bike, her confidence evident in every motion.

As they reached the driveway, Lola came to a stop and turned to face Carlos, a serious expression on her face. She reached for a helmet from a nearby shelf and handed it to him, her tone firm as she began to speak.

“Firstly, safety is everything.” She started, her voice carrying a sense of authority born from years of experience. “You have to wear protective gear at all times, because you never know what could happen around the next corner.”

Lola's words hung in the air, a reminder of the risks that came with riding a motorcycle. Carlos nodded in understanding, his expression serious as he listened intently to her instructions.

“That includes a proper leather jacket, gloves, and a helmet.” She continued, her gaze unwavering as she met Carlos's eyes. "Usually leather pants, but the chinos will do for tonight."

Carlos nodded again, a sense of determination settling over him as he took in Lola's words. He understood the importance of safety, and he was grateful for Lola's guidance as they prepared for their ride.

“You'll be what the biker community calls a 'backpack.’” Lola continued, her tone matter-of-fact as she explained. “You're my backpack on the bike because of the position you sit and how you have to hang onto me.”

Carlos nodded, taking in her words as he absorbed the information. He understood the concept; he would be riding pillion, holding onto Lola as she piloted the motorcycle. It was a position of trust and intimacy, and he was eager to experience it firsthand.

As Lola took a step towards the bike, Carlos followed closely behind, his anticipation growing with each passing moment.

“The rider always gets on first.” Lola stated firmly as she swung her leg over the bike and settled into the rider's seat. “Then you climb on using the pegs at the back.”

Carlos listened to her instructions, his heart pounding with nervous excitement as he watched Lola demonstrate. He took note of the foot pegs she pointed out, his hands gripping the helmet he held tightly.

With hesitant steps, Carlos approached the bike, his movements cautious as he reached for the foot pegs at the back. He hesitantly and nervously climbed onto the bike, his muscles tense with anticipation as he settled into the seat behind Lola.

Instinctively, Carlos rested his hands on Lola's waist, his touch light yet reassuring. He could feel the warmth of her body beneath his fingertips, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of connection.

“When we get going, you rest your hands on the tank when I'm braking.” Lola instructed, her voice steady and confident as she took Carlos's hands and guided them to the gas tank between her legs. “And when I squeeze your thigh, that means I'm going to start speeding up. Then you just hold on tight.”

Carlos felt Lola's hands on top of his own, her touch gentle yet firm as she continued to explain. He listened intently, his nerves beginning to ease as he absorbed her instructions.

“When I lean into corners or turns, you lean with me, kind of mimicking my movements; otherwise, we will fall over. When I come to a stop, don't lean against me; try to keep yourself in place, otherwise, I'm going to get squashed against the tank, and our helmets will more than likely bang together.” Lola concluded, her voice steady and authoritative. “Any questions?”

“How fast are we going to go?” Carlos wondered, his voice betraying a hint of apprehension.

“I won't go faster than 100 kilometres per hour. I'll take it slow.” Lola assured him, her tone calm and reassuring.

Carlos nodded, a sense of relief washing over him as he listened to Lola's words. He trusted her judgement implicitly, knowing that she would prioritise their safety above all else.

“Okay, that sounds good.” He replied, his voice steady as he met Lola's gaze. “I trust you.”

With a smile, Lola returned his nod, her confidence unwavering as she prepared to lead them on their ride.

A few moments later, the bike rolled down the driveway and out onto the street, its engine purring with anticipation. Carlos took a deep breath, his heart pounding with excitement as they embarked on their journey together.

Lola led Carlos through winding roads bordered by towering trees, their branches reaching out to brush against the night sky. The air was cool against their skin as they sped along, the rumble of the engine beneath them filling the night with a sense of excitement.

As they rode, Lola guided them through a series of twists and turns, each one more exhilarating than the last. They leaned into corners together, their bodies moving in sync as they navigated the road with precision and skill.

With each passing moment, Carlos felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through him, his senses heightened by the thrill of the ride. The rush of the wind against his face, the roar of the engine in his ears—it was a feeling unlike any other, a sense of freedom and exhilaration that filled him with a sense of joy and excitement.

As they continued on their journey, Lola led them to a secluded lookout point high above the city. They parked the bike and dismounted, the cool night air wrapping around them like a blanket as they took in the breathtaking view below.

Carlos's heart was racing as he stood on the edge of the lookout, his breath coming in short bursts as he gazed out at the twinkling lights of the city below. It was a moment of pure exhilaration, a feeling of being alive and free in the vastness of the night.

Lola removed her helmet, shaking out her hair as Carlos followed suit, his movements slightly shaky with residual adrenaline. He couldn't help but feel a rush of exhilaration as he took in their surroundings, his wide eyes and flushed cheeks betraying the intensity of the experience.

Lola chuckled at his reaction, her laughter echoing in the night air as she watched him with amusement.

“Was that too fast?” She asked, a hint of concern in her voice. Carlos shook his head, a wide grin spreading across his face as he met her gaze.

“Not at all.” He assured her, his voice filled with genuine excitement. “That was... wow. I don't have words.”

Lola smiled at his response, a sense of pride evident in her eyes as she looked at him.

“You didn't do too bad.” she informed him, her tone teasing yet genuine. “For a first-timer, that was pretty impressive.”

Even though Carlos was accustomed to the adrenaline-fueled world of high speeds and technical driving in Formula 1, the experience of riding on the back of Lola's motorcycle was an entirely different thrill. There was a rawness to it, a sense of vulnerability that heightened his senses and quickened his pulse in a way that he had never experienced before.

Carlos felt an exhilaration unlike any he had felt on the racetrack. There was no protective barrier between him and the rush of the world around him, no safety net to catch him if things went wrong. It was just him, Lola, and the open road stretching out before them. Carlos understood why Lola enjoyed the ride so much. There was something undeniably addictive about the feeling of freedom that came with riding a motorcycle, the sense of liberation that came from leaving the cares of the world behind and embracing the thrill of the unknown.

If anyone had known what he had been up to, Carlos would have found himself in a heap of trouble. Racing on the back of Lola's motorcycle through the winding roads under the cover of darkness was a far cry from the controlled environment of the Formula 1 track. It was a risk he had taken, one fueled by a desire for adventure and a longing to break free from the constraints of his carefully curated public image.

As a professional athlete, Carlos was well aware of the scrutiny that followed his every move. His actions were constantly under the microscope, his reputation carefully managed by a team of publicists and agents. Any deviation from the expected behaviour could result in damaging headlines and consequences that extended far beyond the racetrack.

But in that moment, as he clung to Lola's waist and felt the rush of the wind against his face, Carlos couldn't bring himself to care about the potential repercussions. There was something liberating about throwing caution to the wind and embracing the unknown, something exhilarating about experiencing life in its purest form.

“Maybe on the way back, you can go just a tad faster.” Carlos implored, his voice filled with a hint of excitement as they stood together, gazing out at the twinkling lights of the cityscape below. Lola turned to him with a playful grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” She teased, a hint of challenge in her voice. Carlos chuckled, the thrill of their earlier ride still coursing through his veins.

“I think I can manage.” He replied, his tone confident as he met her gaze.

-----------------------

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @notyouraveragemochii @heyheyheyggg

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pucksandpower · 2 months

Text

It Started With an Appendix

Carlos Sainz x nurse!Reader

Summary: in which an inflamed appendix turns out to be the ultimate matchmaker

Warnings: medical ethics are basically thrown out the window

“Y/N, the patient in room 312 is awake,” a voice calls from the hall outside the nurses’ station.

You make your way down the bright, sterile corridor toward the private room, the scent of antiseptic lingering in the air. Taking a breath, you rap your knuckles lightly on the door before entering.

Carlos Sainz Jr. is propped up in the hospital bed, blinking slowly as the anesthesia wears off. His tousled hair and grogginess make him look adorably vulnerable.

“Hola, señorita,” he slurs with a lopsided grin as you approach. “Are you an angel? You must have fallen from heaven.”

You can’t help but giggle at his cheesy line, shaking your head in amusement. “No, Mr. Sainz, I’m your nurse. You just had your appendix removed.”

“Call me Carlos,” he insists, his Spanish accent thick and velvety. “And you’re definitely an angel to me.”

Suppressing another laugh, you check his vitals and make a note on his chart. “How are you feeling, Carlos? Any pain or nausea?”

“I feel ... floaty,” he murmurs, blinking slowly as he looks you up and down. “But you’re making me feel much better already.”

You bite your lip to contain your smile. This man is incorrigible, even fresh out of surgery. “That’s the pain medication talking, I’m afraid.”

“No, no ...” Carlos protests weakly. “You’re just ... muy bonita. So beautiful.”

His boldness makes warmth bloom in your cheeks. You clear your throat. “Why don’t you try to get some rest? The anesthesia can make people loopy for a while.”

“Don’t go,” he pouts, trying and failing to grab your hand from the bed. “Stay and keep me company, hermosa.”

You gently lay his hand back at his side. “I’ll be just down the hall if you need anything, okay?”

Carlos levels you with a look that could melt glaciers. “At least tell me your name, ángel?”

Holding his smoldering gaze, you reply softly, “It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he echoes, savoring each syllable. “What a beautiful name. Maybe I’ll dream of you, Y/N ...”

With a flustered smile, you turn and exit the room, his flirtatious words still ringing in your ears. This man is going to be the death of you.

Over the next few hours, you check on Carlos periodically, each time greeted by a fresh cheesy line or thinly-veiled compliment. He’s relentless, but also strangely endearing in his drug-addled state.

“Did the sun come out or did you just smile at me?”

“Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got fine written all over you.”

“I must be in a museum, because you truly are a work of art.”

You roll your eyes at each one, but can’t deny the little thrill it sends through you. Despite his grogginess, Carlos’ charisma still shines through effortlessly.

By the time your shift ends, you’re almost disappointed you won’t get to hear any more of his terrible pickup lines. You linger a moment in his doorway after bringing him his evening dose of medication.

“Feeling any better?” You ask kindly.

Carlos gives you a crooked smile. “I feel a lot better when you’re around, querida.”

You shake your head in playful exasperation. “Get some rest. I’m off for the night.”

His expression turns almost ... wistful? “Will I see you again?”

Something warm blooms in your chest at his hopeful tone. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” you assure him. “Same time.”

The bright grin that stretches across his face is worth a million cheesy lines. “Buenas noches, mi ángel.”

You don’t bother holding back your smile this time. “Good night, Carlos.”

As you make your way home, his handsome face and melted chocolate voice keep popping into your mind unbidden.

You try to push thoughts of Carlos from your mind as you cook yourself dinner and get ready for bed. He’s just a patient — a ridiculously charming one, yes, but a patient all the same.

Still, as you drift off to sleep, his teasing grin and warm brown eyes seem seared into the back of your mind ...

The next morning, you arrive at the hospital with a new spring in your step. You can’t help but look forward to seeing Carlos again, newly appendix-less or no.

When you enter his room with his breakfast tray, the sleepy Spaniard perks up instantly at the sight of you. “Y/N! Buenos dias, hermosa!”

You chuckle at his enthusiasm. “Good morning, Carlos. How are you feeling today?”

“Much better now that mi ángel has arrived,” he declares boldly.

As you check his vitals, he continues to bat those ridiculously long eyelashes at you. “You must be a hell of a thief, because you stole my heart from across the hospital room.”

You snort at the line, rolling your eyes in amusement. “You do realize those cheesy pick-up lines aren’t going to work on me, right?”

“Not cheesy ... poetic,” Carlos argues with an impish grin. “Poetry for a woman of your beauty.”

You raise an eyebrow in mock skepticism. “Is that so?”

“Of course,” he nods matter-of-factly. “Here, let me demonstrate ...”

Carlos clears his throat dramatically. “Your eyes shame the brilliance of the desert sun, while your lips put roses to shame with their beauty. A sculptor could study your face for a lifetime and never capture its perfection in marble.”

Despite yourself, you can feel heat rising to your cheeks at his earnest compliments. “I ... you can’t just-”

But he’s not done. “While bandits would slay and sack entire cities for even a glimpse of your splendor. Why, the gods themselves weep at being outdone by such a radiant vision of loveliness!”

By now, your face is burning scarlet as he gazes up at you, eyes sparkling impishly. “Th-that’s enough, Carlos,” you manage, turning away and busying yourself straightening his blankets to hide your flustered expression.

You can hear the grin in his voice. “Too much for you, hermosa? I haven’t even gotten to the part about your luscious ti-”

“Carlos!” You squeak, spinning back around with wide eyes.

His mischievous laughter fills the room, head thrown back in pure delight at your scandalized reaction. The melodic sound is utterly infectious — soon you find yourself giggling helplessly along despite your embarrassment.

“You’re terrible, you know that?” You admonish once you’ve caught your breath, trying and failing to look stern.

He winks unapologetically. “I’m just being honest, ángel.”

You shake your head in feigned exasperation, trying to ignore the little thrill his flirtations still send through you. “I should get going before you corrupt me further.”

As you turn to leave, Carlos calls after you. “Until later, mi amor! Don’t forget my poetry books for next time!”

His infectious laughter follows you into the hallway, that bright sound certain to play on a loop in your mind all day ...

Over the next few days, Carlos’ recovery progresses smoothly — maybe a little too smoothly, you think with a private smirk. His cheesy compliments and relentless flirting show no signs of letting up, much to your mingled embarrassment and secret delight.

“For you, hermosa, I would wrestle bulls and paint sunsets!”

“Mother Nature herself must be jealous of your radiant beauty.”

“Careful, or you’ll put the Arabian sun to shame with your smile!”

You somehow manage to roll your eyes and blush simultaneously each time he unleashes a new line. Part of you wishes he would just give it a rest already. But an even bigger part never wants this game you two have going to end.

On your third day caring for Carlos post-op, you arrive to find a small bouquet of red roses sitting on his bedside table. “These are for you, querida!” He announces happily when you enter.

You blink in surprise, taking in the brilliant flowers. “Carlos, you didn’t have to-”

“Of course I did,” he cuts you off dismissively. “An ángel as dazzling as you deserves all the flowers in the world.”

A pleased smile tugs at your lips despite yourself as you inhale their sweet fragrance. “They’re lovely, Carlos ... thank you.”

“Anything for you, mi amor,” he grins impishly. “Though it pains me to give a rose to one who outshines it so effortlessly.”

You shake your head, fighting a blush yet again. “Are you always this much of a shameless flirt?”

His eyes dance with impish delight. “Only to beautiful nurses who make my heart race faster than any lap around the fastest street circuit on the calendar.” Carlos pauses, expression turning serious. “Truthfully Y/N ... I know I’m a patient, but I feel a connection with you. Something deeper than just pretty words.”

You regard him carefully, caught off guard by his sudden earnestness. Part of you wants to laugh it off, dismiss his words like all the cheesy lines before. But something in his warm and open gaze gives you pause.

“I ... feel it too,” you admit quietly after a moment. “I don’t know why, it’s just ... a spark. Like we’ve known each other for years.”

Carlos’s face breaks into a brilliant smile that makes your heart skip a beat. “Exactly, ángel! A connection of the soul — that is what it feels like to me.”

He holds out a hand in invitation, eyes soft yet intense. “Come over here? Let me get a closer look at mi amor’s beautiful face.”

You move toward the bed instinctively, taking his hand as he guides you to sit at the edge. His touch sends little electric tingles coursing through you that raise goosebumps along your arms. Even when you’re seated, Carlos has to look up slightly from where he’s reclining on a pile of pillows to meet your eyes, his thumb caressing your knuckles tenderly.

“So lovely,” he murmurs huskily, eyes tracing your features reverently. “A woman more beautiful than Aphrodite herself. And just as captivating ...”

Slowly, carefully, he lifts your joined hands to brush his lips along your knuckles in a feather-light kiss. The simple, intimate gesture steals the breath from your lungs.

“Carlos ...” you start breathlessly, hardly daring to move lest you break the hypnotic spell between you two.

He gives you that crooked, heart-melting grin. “Let me take you to dinner when I’m out of here, mi ángel? So I can woo you properly like you deserve.”

Despite the warm tingles his attention still sends through you, you nibble your lip uncertainly. “I ... I don’t think that would be appropriate. You’re my patient-”

“Just dinner,” he interjects smoothly. “As a thank you for taking such wonderful care of me. I insist on repaying you somehow.”

You search his face, wanting so badly to throw caution to the wind and say yes. He could charm the feathers off a bird, this man.

“Just dinner,” he reiterates in a low, sincere tone. “And if nothing else ... maybe we both make a new friend, yes?”

A slow smile spreads across your face, anticipation blooming in your chest. “Alright then. Just dinner.”

The boyish grin he gives you makes your breath catch. “Excellent! I’ll wine and dine you like a true gentleman, you’ll see.”

You roll your eyes, even as a giggle escapes you. “I’ll hold you to that.”

With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Carlos lifts it once more to brush his lips across your knuckles, holding your gaze intently.

“I cannot wait, mi amor.”

***

The luxurious restaurant that Carlos chose for your dinner date is dimly lit by ornate lanterns and alive with the sounds of traditional music. You can’t help but let your eyes linger on him as you’re shown to your private table tucked away in a secluded corner.

Even in a simple shirt and slacks, Carlos looks effortlessly dashing. His warm eyes crinkle at the corners when he catches you staring, rewarding you with that heart-melting smile.

“See something you like, querida?” He teases once you’re seated across from him.

You feel heat rush to your cheeks at being so brazenly caught out. Recovering quickly, you arch an eyebrow cooly. “You just look different out of that hospital gown, that’s all.”

Carlos throws back his head with a rich laugh. “Ah, so you prefer me in my natural state then? Bueno, no complaints here!”

You shake your head in amusement, trying not to smile too widely. “Is that ego really as big as they say?”

“What ego?” He asks innocently, shrugging broad shoulders. “This is merely healthy self-confidence, mi ángel.”

The banter comes so effortlessly between you two, like going back-and-forth with an old friend rather than a man you just met days ago. Carlos reaches across the table to take your hand, calloused fingers stroking your knuckles gently.

“Truthfully? I’m just thrilled you agreed to have dinner with me tonight,” he admits in a low tone. “I wasn’t sure if all my flirting was too much.”

You chuckle softly, gazing at him through the glow of the lantern between you. “It was definitely ... persistent. But also strangely charming, if I’m being honest.”

A pleased grin stretches across Carlos’ face, lighting up his handsome features. His thumb caresses your knuckles tenderly as he holds your eyes.

“I meant what I said, Y/N ... I felt an unexplainable connection with you from the moment I woke up in that hospital bed.” His expression turns almost wondering. “Despite my joking and terrible pick-up lines, there was something deeper drawing me to you. Like my soul recognized yours, si?”

You nod slowly, inexplicably understanding exactly what he means. That spark, that feeling of having known him for years — it’s indescribable and yet so real at the same time.

“I felt it too,” you murmur. “A pull, like I was meant to meet you.” You give a soft, self-conscious laugh. “It sounds silly saying it out loud.”

But Carlos shakes his head adamantly. “Not silly at all, cariño. Spiritual, cosmic, whatever you want to call it — I felt it too, and I don’t question these things anymore.”

He leans in conspiratorially. “Do you know what the nomadic Bedouin peoples of Arabia call that? Finding your namiah.”

You can’t help the way your heart flutters at the unfamiliar word and the enchanted look on his face. “What does it mean?” You breathe.

“It translates roughly to your twin soul,’" Carlos explains in a hushed tone. “Two souls destined to connect in this life. Bound together across lifetimes, finally reunited.”

He gives your hand a meaningful squeeze, utterly transfixed. “The Bedouins believe when you encounter your namiah, it’s sacred — a reunion that must be honored and embraced, regardless of what life may throw your way. Because you’ve been given a second chance with your twin soul.”

His words seem to reverberate somewhere deep within you, ringing with an ancient truth you can’t fully grasp but feel with your entire being. Impulsively, you lift Carlos’s hand to your cheek, holding it there as you bathe in his wonder-filled gaze.

For a long, charged moment, the whole world narrows to just the two of you sharing this cosmic revelation. Then the spell breaks as you let out a breathless laugh, eyes shining with amazed delight.

“You believe in destined soulmates? I never would have guessed,” you tease gently.

He chuckles warmly in return, leaning back but keeping your hand pressed tenderly against his cheek. “The universe works in mysterious ways, querida. I’ve learned not to question things my heart recognizes as true.”

A comfortable silence stretches between you, filled with unspoken understanding and newfound intimacy. He grazes his thumb along your cheekbone reverently.

“That’s why I couldn’t stop myself from flirting with you, you know,” Carlos muses in that rumbly tone. “You captivated me from the first moment I laid eyes on you. I knew I had to at least try winning your heart, mi ángel.”

You shake your head in fond exasperation, fighting a smile. “Carlos Sainz, actually a hopeless romantic? Who would have thought ...”

His playful grin is back in full force. “Only for you, hermosa.” Then his eyes take on a hint of hesitant hopefulness. “Speaking of ... there’s actually another reason I wanted to take you to dinner.”

You regard him curiously as the waiter arrives to fill your glasses with water. “Oh? Do tell.”

Carlos takes a fortifying sip before fixing you with those warm, earnest eyes again. “I would be honored if you came to Australia with me in a few weeks. As my guest for the race in Melbourne.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, mouth falling open slightly. “The ... the Grand Prix? In Australia?”

He nods eagerly. “It’s at the end of the month. I will arrange for your travel, put you up in the plushest hotel, everything. My treat.”

Carlos leans in closer, an impish gleam dancing in his eyes. “It would give me the perfect chance to keep wooing you properly, mi amor.”

You let out a disbelieving laugh, barely able to wrap your mind around the unexpected invitation. “Carlos, I ... I can’t just fly across the world like that! I have work, responsibilities-”

“Ah, but you’d only need to take a week or so off,” he counters smoothly. “I’ll handle all the details. You just need to relax and be my honored guest for the weekend.”

He gives you that smoldering look that makes your heart skip a beat. “Let me spoil you, mi ángel. Just say the word and it’s yours.”

Part of you is tempted — so, so tempted by the enthralling prospect. A luxurious vacation with this enchanting man who is already well on his way to sweeping you off your feet? It sounds utterly magical.

But the practical part of you holds you back, brow furrowing with uncertainty. “I don’t know ... even taking time off for a trip like that would be difficult.”

Carlos regards you intently for a moment, reading your hesitation. Then he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, voice turning softer yet insistent.

“Y/N, when was the last time you took a real vacation? Away from the hospital, away from responsibility for a little while ... to just breathe and enjoy life?”

You open your mouth automatically, then pause. Truthfully, you can’t even remember. Life has become an endless cycle of work and sleep with little room for anything else.

“Exactly,” Carlos nods knowingly at your silence. “Everyone needs to get away sometimes, querida. To recharge their soul before the daily grind drains them completely. Even an ángel like you.”

He fixes you with those molten brown eyes again. “Let me give that to you, mi amor. A week to relax, to be spoiled and carefree in one of the most beautiful corners of your world.” One side of his mouth quirks up teasingly. “And with a ruggedly handsome Formula 1 driver to keep you company, of course ...”

You chuckle in spite of yourself, warmth blooming in your chest. He has a point — when was the last time you allowed yourself to have fun and truly unwind? You certainly can’t remember. And if there’s anyone who seems like the ideal travel companion ...

Carlos notices your resolve softening and presses his advantage. “I promise you, it will be an experience you’ll never forget. Put yourself in my hands for just one week — let me take care of everything so you don’t have to lift a finger. What do you say, hermosa?”

His gaze is so open and full of restrained yearning that your breath hitches. You search those bewitching eyes for one more long moment, feeling yourself teetering on the edge of a decision.

Then, with a breathless laugh, you give in to impulse.

“Okay! You win. I’m yours for a week in Australia. Show me what you have in store.”

The smile that slowly spreads across his face is brighter and more radiant than the high desert sun. Carlos lifts your hand to his lips to brush a lingering kiss across your knuckles, sending delicious sparks dancing along your skin.

“Your wish is my command, mi ángel,” he murmurs fervently against your fingers, holding your breathless gaze. “I’ll make sure it’s a trip you’ll never forget.”

***

The bright Australian sun feels glorious on your skin as you relax on the private rooftop terrace of Ferrari’s plush motorhome. Leaning back on the cushioned lounger, you close your eyes and inhale the first deep breath you’ve taken in ... well, you can’t remember how long.

For just this fleeting moment, all the stresses of everyday life as a hardworking nurse seem to melt away into the balmy afternoon air. You’re worlds away from the frenetic hospital routine, from the bright fluorescent lights and permeating smell of antiseptic. Here, surrounded by towering palms swaying lazily in the breeze, you can almost imagine you’re at a lavish resort rather than the Albert Park paddock.

Almost.

A fond smile tugs at your lips as the roar of engines echoes across the circuit. That unmistakable sound is your reminder of just how enchantingly surreal this entire experience has been.

When Carlos first invited you to be his guest at the race, you expected some form of VIP experience to watch the Formula 1 action up close. But you never could have imagined the level of extravagance and pampering he had planned.

From the moment you landed, you’ve been put up at a five-star hotel in the lap of luxury — a stunning penthouse suite, complete with a butler at your beck and call plus a private concierge team to arrange anything you may need. Not that you’ve had time to need anything, with Carlos’s personal assistant, Elena, catering to your every whim.

You had tried to object at first, insisting this level of opulence wasn’t necessary. But Carlos merely placed a finger over your lips with a mischievous grin.

“Ah ah ah, mi ángel — you agreed to let me spoil you for a week, remember?” He chided playfully. “No objections!”

Before you could protest further, he pulled you into his arms, warm and solid and smelling faintly of bergamot. “Just relax and enjoy la buena vida for once. That’s my only condition.”

Looking into those warm brown eyes, you found yourself getting deliciously lost as his breath fanned across your lips. What choice did you have but to nod breathlessly and let yourself be whisked away into his lavish wonderland?

And it has been nothing short of wondrous so far. After being settled into your palatial suite with its giant marble bathroom and wall-to-wall windows, Elena escorted you into the exclusive world of Formula 1.

The Grand Prix itself is certainly glamorous — the electric atmosphere, roar of the cars driving at breath-taking speeds, and prestigious crowds dripping in finery and jewels. But it’s the behind-the-scenes action in the paddock that truly left you dazzled.

Elena led you through a dizzying labyrinth of state-of-the-art motorhomes and garage bays with cutting-edge equipment full of personnel bustling about in a flurry of coordinated movements. She introduced you to a mind-boggling array of mechanics, aerodynamicists, race strategists, hospitality workers, and more.

The entire operation felt like the world’s most organized theatrical production playing out before your very eyes. And at the center of it all? A beacon in red drawing all eyes to where he’s leaning against a metal wall towards the side of the garage? None other than Carlos himself.

Seeing him in this element, commanding the hushed and reverent attention of dozens of crew members with an intense yet unhurried confidence ... there was something almost unbearably sexy about it. His typical warmth and charm were overshadowed by a blazing intensity and poise more potent than any poem he could compose under the haze of painkillers.

Between briefings and warm ups, you managed to steal a few stolen moments with Carlos. Whether brushing a clandestine kiss to the back of your hand or pulling you aside for a heated embrace out of view, he always reaffirmed this sublime fantasy was for you … and you alone.

“Having fun so far, mi ángel?” He would murmur, lips brushing your ear as his hands skimmed teasingly down your sides.

You shivered at the gravelly timbre of his voice, rendered speechless by the fire flickering in his eyes. How could anyone put the depths of your experience into words?

So you simply answered by pulling him into a searing kiss, fingers tangling in those sinfully tousled locks. By the time you parted, Carlos’ pupils were blown wide, chest rising and falling heavily against yours.

“Save some of that fire for after the race, cariño,” he’d say thickly with a wolfish grin. “You may just be the greatest distraction I’ve ever had to overcome.”

With one last smoldering look, he rejoined his crew, leaving you flustered yet utterly euphoric. Yes, Carlos Sainz had managed to spirit you away into an all-encompassing dream — one you never wanted to wake up from.

The sound of a nearby door opening brings you back to the present with a contented sigh. You let your eyes drift open again, blinking against the brilliant sunlight as a familiar figure emerges onto the terrace.

“There’s my hermosa,” Carlos greets you warmly, slipping off his cap to run a hand through his ridiculously perfect hair. The simple gesture makes your breath catch as always.

You feel a smile stretch across your face as he approaches. “Hi there, stranger. Taking a break?”

“Something like that,” he chuckles, dropping into the lounger beside you with a groan. “Just a quick respite from the crowd.”

Carlos turns toward you with poorly concealed mischief dancing in his eyes. “Though ... I may have also needed an excuse to see this beautiful sight again.”

You roll your eyes in exaggerated exasperation to hide your giddiness at his flattery. He’s been adorably smooth this entire trip. “Save your lines, Casanova. You already got me here, remember?”

“Ah, but a man can never compliment his lady enough,” Carlos objects smoothly, grasping your hand in his calloused one to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Starting with how radiant you look basking in the Australian sun, mi ángel. A lesser man would get jealous.”

You shake your head, even as tingles race across your skin from his gesture. “Is flattery how you butter up any pretty girl who catches your eye?”

“Just the especially gorgeous ones,” he winks unapologetically. “But there’s only one who’s made me want to be a hopeless romantic.”

With dizzying ease, he leverages himself across the narrow space between you, caging you in on all sides with his toned arms. Your breath catches at his sudden proximity, pulse quickening from the heated look in his eyes.

“Perhaps I should stop with pretty words ...” Carlos rumbles in that velvety accent, closing the remaining distance until you can feel the heat radiating from his body. “And use actions instead.”

His mouth captures yours in a slow, smoldering kiss that has you melting bonelessly against the plush cushions. Large hands splay across the dip of your waist, firm yet intoxicatingly gentle. You melt into the unhurried caress of his lips, addicted to the way he sets your entire body deliciously alight.

When you finally part, you’re flushed and breathless, gazing up dazedly at his twinkling eyes. “You’re ... terribly persuasive, Mr. Sainz,” you manage.

He rewards you with a wolfish grin and another toe-curling kiss. “Only for you, mi amor,” he growls against your lips, pulling you flush against the hard planes of his chest. “Only for you ...”

A tiny gasp of surprise parts your lips as Carlos suddenly freezes, mouth going taut. You tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze questioningly.

“What’s wrong?”

He drops his darkened eyes down toward his palm sheepishly. It’s then you notice the tiny trickle of red seeping from a paper cut across his skin.

“Oh no, it seems our ... passion got a bit too rough,” Carlos grins cheekily. “Gave myself a battle wound.”

Rolling your eyes, you gingerly take his hand to inspect the miniscule wound. Just a thin cut that was reopened, likely from reviewing telemetry packets between briefings.

“It’s nothing serious,” you chide. “Though I suppose I could play nurse for you one more time.”

He gives you a devilish look from under his inky lashes. “Please do, mi ángel. I’ll need your ... very special care.”

You level an unimpressed glare at him, slipping off the lounger toward the rooftop bathroom to grab the first aid kit inside. By the time you return, Carlos has the audacity to be sitting patiently with his lightly bleeding palm extended in offering. Like a king awaiting tribute from his loyal subjects.

“It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” you scoff, cracking open the kit and perching on the edge of his lounger. With the utmost care and tenderness, you gently apply antibacterial ointment and wrap the cut with an oversized adhesive bandage.

“There, all better, your Highness,” you announce with a solemn nod.

But rather than releasing your hand, Carlos envelops it fully in both of his. His warm eyes search yours impishly.

“Actually, hermosa ... there is one last thing that could help it heal even faster.”

You quirk a skeptical brow at him, already thoroughly endeared by whatever outrageous thing is about to come out of his mouth. “Oh? And what’s that?”

The corner of his lips twitches up in that rakish half-smirk you adore. “A magical, healing ... kiss.”

Of course. Of bloody course.

“You can’t be serious,” you laugh, trying in vain to tug your hand back. Carlos simply holds it fast, fervently earnest despite the devilish twinkle dancing in his eyes.

“Completely serious, mi amor! The power of a beautiful woman’s kiss has incredible healing properties.” He pulls your hand close. “Especially from an ángel like you ...”

Warmth blooms across your cheeks at his antics, head shaking in amusement. Even after weeks of witnessing Carlos’ particular brand of cheeky charisma up close, he can still catch you off-guard and leave you deliciously flustered.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” The reprimand lacks any bite as you can’t help but grin back at him, captivated as always.

His answering look is all playful innocence — one you know better than to trust for a single second. “Does that mean you won’t bless me with your magic?”

Brown eyes beg at you over your trapped knuckles, full lower lip jutting out in a pout far too enticing to resist. With a shaky laugh, you finally acquiesce and bend forward to press a slow, petal-soft kiss over the bandage.

A grin stretches across Carlos’ face once you pull back. “My hero!” He exclaims, catching your hand in both of his to nuzzle the inside of your wrist adoringly. “See, querida? Already I can feel the enchanted restorative properties working wonders.”

“You’re utterly shameless!” You let out another breathless laugh.

“Only because you make me crazy, mi ángel,” Carlos retorts with an exaggerated groan, tugging you closer until you half-cover his toned body.

You go easily, resting comfortably against the solid wall of his chest. Strong arms wrap around your waist, securing you in place as Carlos pillows his cheek atop your head with a contented sigh.

“You render me nonsensical and utterly bewitched. I’m powerless against your effortless magic.”

The words rumble through you in that low timbre you’ve become addicted to, spreading warmth from the crown of your head to the very tips of your toes. With a quiet hum of contentment, you tuck yourself tighter into his side and watch the swaying of the palms framed against the brilliant blue sky.

In this moment, the entire world seems to shrink away into insignificance — nothing but you and Carlos tangled in this serene haven apart from all space and time. Nothing but the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your cheek, the cocooning circle of arms that sets you ablaze and soothes you in equal measure.

Just as you feel yourself being lulled into a state of blissful relaxation, Carlos presses a lingering kiss to your hair. His chest vibrates with quiet yet fervent words.

“Thank you, amor ... for giving me a chance to make you mine.”

Pure affection blooms golden in your chest at the reverent sincerity of his tone. You tilt your head up to find his warm brown eyes already trained on you. Filled with adoration yet still flickering with that insuppressible spark of mischief and zest you adore so much.

With an impulsive hand curling around the nape of his neck, you pull his mouth down toward yours. As you part, twin smiles linger on your swollen lips.

“And thank you,” you smile wryly. “For having an appendix that decided to take matters into its own hands so we could meet.”

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