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lecsainz · 7 months

Note

Hope you're doing amazing! I love your blog so much! I come here almost every other day to day dream about my favourites and read your pieces again and again. Could i request Carlos x reader fic where Carlos comforts the reader after some reporters prod into their private life and the reader feels overwhelmed... Angst to fluff and maybe smut in the end?

SHE’S A BAD BAD GIRL

parings: carlos sainz x famous!reader

authors note: I gotta say, mixing a bit of AU with regular fanfic, can I just say I love doing magazine features?

summary: that one where the media makes up stuff about your relationship with carlos but he ain't gonna let that shake our relationship.

☆. . . masterlist !

Exclusive Source Reveals Startling Insights Into the Relationship of F1's Rising Star and the Elusive Heiress

The Power Couple: Carlos Sainz and Y/N Y/L/N's Love Story or PR Masterpiece?

By TMZ Magazine - September 2023

In the glitzy world of fame and fortune, where the line between reality and illusion often blurs, power couples are born just as swiftly as they fade away.

None have captured the public's attention quite like that of Formula 1 sensation Carlos Sainz Jr. and the enigmatic heiress Y/N Y/L/N. This power couple's whirlwind romance has been the subject of intense speculation, with many questioning the authenticity of their love. In a TMZ exclusive, we delve into the inner workings of their seemingly sensational union, revealing what lies beneath the surface.

It's no secret that the world of celebrity romance often blurs the lines between genuine affection and calculated publicity. In the case of Carlos Sainz Jr. and Y/N Y/L/N, sources close to the couple suggest that their relationship might be more PR strategy than a heartfelt connection. Our exclusive source, a close friend of the couple, disclosed that the pair has carefully orchestrated their romance to maximize benefits on both ends.

"They both know that being in the spotlight can help boost their respective careers," our source shared. "They decided it's a mutually beneficial arrangement. Carlos gets more media coverage, and Y/N can use his popularity to her advantage."

Y/N Y/L/N, the elusive heiress whose life has been shrouded in mystery, has raised eyebrows with her numerous high-profile relationships over the years. It's no secret that she's been romantically linked to at least eight A-list celebrities, including musicians, actors, and even fellow heirs. Despite her apparent aversion to fame and the media circus that surrounds it, Y/N has consistently found herself in the headlines due to her high-profile affairs.

"The irony is that Y/N has always claimed to hate the attention that comes with dating famous people," our source revealed. "Yet, she's continued to choose partners from the same world she professes to despise."

As the couple's relationship has garnered more attention, their PR teams have been working tirelessly to manage the narrative. They've employed tactics such as carefully timed public appearances, social media posts, and interviews to keep the public intrigued and invested in their romance. This calculated approach, however, has led many to question the authenticity of their connection.

"Their teams are skilled at using the media to their advantage," our source admitted. "It's all about perception and maintaining their status as a 'power couple.'"

As the world continues to watch this captivating couple's every move, one question lingers: Is their love story genuine, or is it a calculated maneuver to seize the attention of the masses and advance their respective careers? Are Carlos and Y/N truly in love, or are they orchestrating a well-choreographed PR campaign for mutual benefit?

Stay tuned for more exclusive updates and revelations from TMZ Magazine.

Y/N lay sprawled across the plush sofa in the cozy living room of her shared home with Carlos in Spain. The afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting warm rays of light across the room. She'd been catching up on some reading when her phone buzzed incessantly, drawing her attention away from the book.

The headline on her screen was impossible to miss: "The Power Couple: Carlos Sainz and Y/N Y/L/N's Love Story or PR Masterpiece?" The TMZ article had surfaced online, and her heart sank as she read through the scandalous claims about their relationship. It was a relentless invasion of their privacy, dissecting their love as if it were a staged performance.

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes, and she felt overwhelmed by the intrusion into their lives. She knew she had to confront this with Carlos, who had always been her rock in times of turmoil.

Carlos entered the room, sensing the tension in the air. "Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern as he sat down beside her.

She handed him her phone, unable to speak the words herself. Carlos read through the article, his expression growing darker with every word. He clenched his jaw, his protective instincts kicking in. "This is complete nonsense," he muttered angrily.

Carlos's anger simmered as he continued to read the invasive article. His protective instincts flared, and he couldn't fathom how anyone could twist their love into something so far from the truth.

"They have no idea what they're talking about," Carlos said, his voice low but filled with determination. "This is just trash journalism trying to stir up controversy."

Y/N looked up at Carlos, her eyes filled with gratitude. She'd always admired his strength and resilience. "I know, Carlos, but it still stings. I hate how they're trying to make our love seem fake."

Carlos's expression softened as he turned to her. "Mi sol," he whispered, using the affectionate term he had for her. "Our love is as real as the sun streaming through those windows. Don't ever doubt that."

Y/N managed a faint smile, her heart aching a little less with his reassuring words. "I just wish we could shut them up, Carlos."

A mischievous glint flickered in Carlos's eyes as he looked at her. "Well, maybe we can," he said cryptically.

Before Y/N could ask what he meant, Carlos swept her into his arms and stood up. She laughed in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Carlos, what are you doing?" she asked, her laughter mixing with curiosity.

He grinned down at her, his eyes dancing with mischief. "I'm taking my sunshine to our room," he said, "away from all this nonsense."

Y/N couldn't help but giggle as Carlos carried her bridal style down the hallway to their bedroom. His laughter joined hers, and it echoed through their home, drowning out the noise of the world outside.

In that moment, as Carlos playfully carried her, Y/N realized that their love was a sanctuary, a refuge from the chaos of fame and gossip. It didn't matter what others said or wrote about them. What they had was real, unbreakable, and filled with a kind of love that could weather any storm.

As they reached their bedroom, Carlos gently set Y/N down, and they both burst into laughter. He pulled her into a tender kiss, sealing their promise to protect their love from the prying eyes of the world.

As Carlos set Y/N down in their bedroom, their laughter filled the air like a sweet melody, banishing the remnants of unease brought on by the intrusive article. With a loving smile, Carlos cupped her face in his hands, his gaze locked onto hers.

"You know," he whispered, his voice laced with desire, "there's one thing those journalists will never understand."

Y/N's breath hitched as she met his intense gaze. "What's that?" she asked, her voice barely more than a soft murmur.

Carlos leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing, tantalizing kiss. "That our love," he murmured, his voice husky, "is the real deal."

Their kisses deepened, their passion igniting like a flame. Carlos's hands slid from her face down to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, and she moaned softly against his lips.

Their love was a fire burning brightly, an unbreakable bond that no amount of gossip or scrutiny could diminish. As their clothes fell to the floor, they reveled in the intimacy that was entirely their own, a celebration of their genuine love.

In the quiet of their bedroom, away from the prying eyes of the world, Carlos and Y/N proved that their love wasn't just a masterpiece of public relations. It was a passionate, fiery, and deeply genuine connection that left no room for doubt.

As their bodies entwined and their moans of pleasure filled the room, they knew that their love was their most cherished secret, a sanctuary where they could be their true selves, far away from the judgmental eyes of the world.

liked by charlesleclerc , taylorswift , and 13.657.473 others

carlossainz55 just had the best night of my life! thanks, gossipmongers, for the motivation.

tag: yourusername

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ethrlst · 30 days

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reciprocated sentiment

⌞ sypnosis ⌝ - being acquainted with one out of the two current scuderia ferrari drivers have it’s pros and cons. the adrenaline of being able to support your childhood friend through each and every one of his races in person is one of the perks, and his teammate being the biggest only con.

⌞ wordcount & tags ⌝ - 1.2k+ / enemies to lovers! sexual tension! slight!angst fluff! google translated spanish!

⌞ a/n ⌝ - as promised, i would upload this today, perhaps.. just a few hours later than i said. this might be one of my favorite tropes to write so far (tension). let me know what you think and who should i write for next? happy reading! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────

the sweaty bodies of guests dancing to whatever song the speakers were playing from the norris’ manor distracted you from your thoughts. it was nearing midnight, a few more clicks of the watch’s hand and it’ll be the next day. both charles and lando had done a great job at occupying your attention for a while, not until oscar came and asked lando to dj with him, leaving you and charles alone with the rest of the group. the red cup filled with your drink has slowly started tasting less and less like liquor and more watery due to the ice melting.

‘do you want another drink?’ charles had offered, noticing your sour face after taking a sip. you smiled and shook your head, you’d rather sip some watered down liquor, than seek the risk of possibly bumping into his God-forsaken annoying cunt of a teammate, as you’d describe carlos. charles laughs at that, aware of your little rivalry with his teammate and finding it amusing.

‘you seem distracted, love. anything bothering you?’ he wraps his arm around your waist and kisses your shoulders, genuinely worried for his childhood friend. ‘i’m quite alright, cha.’ to which you respond, feeling a bit guilty lying to your friend. he hums, rubbing your hands on his thighs as a sign of reassurance. you both stay in that exact position for a while, cuddling each other whilst laughing at how silly it was when max had an argument with daniel regarding who would win in an arm wrestling battle between the two just a few hours prior.

your peace was interrupted when one of charles’ friend invites him to take a few rounds of shots with the rest of the group, you took this opportunity to make your way back to your room and call it a night. nearing your destination, a hand pulls at your arm and drags you to a secluded hallway. it was quiet and the lights were dim, if it wasn’t from the feeling of his coarse yet soft hands, as well as the strong smell of whiskey paired with his jasmine infused perfume, you wouldn’t recognize him. ‘where do you think you’re going, miss desperate?’, he whispers to your face, chuckling when he notices your irritated expression.

‘get off of me! desperate? god, you’re delusional, carlos.’ you laugh at his face, spitting out ‘you still bitter about cha’s p1 today?’, he slams you against the wall. slowly, his face lower to yours and you feel his eyes’ intense stare. chest heaving faster, you physically feel him bury his face to your neck just before whispering, ‘you are as breathtaking as charles described you to be, pero mi dios, you get on my nerves.’ you’re quick to return his stare with a glare. ‘you’re just as infuriating as me, sainz. you’re no different. if anything, desperation suits your name better than it does mine.’ lifting your hand to his bearded jaw and gently caressing his cheek, you give the spaniard a faux sympathetic smile. ‘you’re pathetic, and you’ll never amount to charles no matter how hard you work, carlos. he’ll always be better than you and you know this.’ your smile growing as the pressure of his hand against your throat gradually grows, you’re getting into his head. he grips your hips harder when he feels the tears finally brimming his eyes, he’s letting you get into his head.

‘joder, no me digas eso por favor, cariño. devuélvelo, por favor.’ fuck, don’t say that to me please, sweetheart. take it back, please. his overwhelming emotions way past the ability to being suppressed; he begs as his tears finally fall from his eyes and strain his skin, he then lays his forehead against yours—- pleading with his big, sad, teary, but oh so beautiful brown eyes. you’ve always loved everything about the spaniard’s eyes: how big it gets when he gets the opportunity to talk about his job, how it resembles a certain earth colored crystal, how they remind you of puppies, how beautiful it shines when met with light and how you catch them staring right back at yours with an emotion you’d never really been able to put a finger on.

‘No quisiste decir eso, ¿verdad, mi amor? look me in the eyes and say it again.’ he pleads, his walls completely down, waiting to be stepped on. he waits—- he waits and waits for your reassurance all while he cries to your hands cupping his face. from an outsider’s perspective, it might seem as the two of you had a lovers quarrel, but you’re no lovers, barely even acquainted. the fact leaves a heavy feeling to your chest whenever you think about how other people— how other women get to touch him, get to fawn over his figure and charming looks, praise how good of a driver he was knowing their true intention with the man. for the longest time you called this strange feeling hate, often bringing up your dislike to the spaniard that it was known by almost everyone in the grid. so why does seeing him in tears and begging for your comfort, brings an immense feeling of joy instead of pleasure?

an epiphany strikes your senses, it dawns upon you that you wanted the crying man all to yourself, and you’d been denying it for years. so the moment you hear him beg once again, you kiss him. your lips moving in sync with his, gripping the hair just before his neck and then his jaw, you kiss him deep. carlos kisses you back just as hungrily, he pulls your hips nearer and tries to deepen the connection just before you pull away. dragging him to your room, you sit the spaniard down at the couch before straddling him. with his wide eyes and plump lips slightly agape, he waits for you to make a move, fearing he would mess it all up and lose you if he makes even the slightest mistake. combing his messy hair, taking your time to admire the man, you utter him a compliment, so handsome. he gives you a shy smile, feeling timid under your gaze. you bring your lips back to his, gentler this time, more sensual— scared you’d break the man if you act upon your greed and possessiveness.

relishing the feeling of his tongue against yours, you pull away to breathe, carlos chasing to have your mouth back to his, but you deny him. ‘cariño, please. let me kiss you’, carlos pleads, caressing your waist and deliberately grinding up to you, he whimpers, feeling needier by the second. kissing his temple, you go down to kiss each of his cheek and his eyes, his nose, his jaw and gradually making your way down to his neck and collarbones. sucking marks to his nape, carlos grips your hip and cradles your head to his hand as he moans to your ear. ‘mierda, quiero volver a sentirte, por favor mi amor.’ shit, i want to feel you again, please my love. grinding your hips back, you pull his hair and grip his throat before mouthing mine to his lips and finally giving him what he’s been begging you for.

────────────────────────

the sunlight peeking behind the blinds, you feel the breeze of air from the window gap, waking your spirit. you open your eyes only to realize that your head was on top of carlos’ chest, you look up to him, taking in his sleeping form. tracing shapes on his skin, enjoying the warmth and stillness of the moment, you feel a kiss to your temple followed by his arms bringing you impossibly closer to him. ‘goodmorning, mi amor.’ ‘goodmorning, carlito’, laughing when he starts attacking you with kisses. ‘no! no! no, teasing this early, please bonita.’ you humm in defeat, cuddling into each others warmth, no longer denying the overdue of reciprocated yearning between the both of you.

fin.

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chrisevansonly · 6 months

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theres so much carlos girl dad cotent can i get dad!carlos x reader with a boy whos such a mamas boy and they fight for her attention ? tyty 💜💜 take care!

its blurb night again lets go!!!

you couldn’t help but bite back a smile at your husband and son as they sported matching pouts on their face, eyes looking right back at you. luca was a momma’s boy through and through, and your husband was just as clingy as the 4 year old toddler. so once every few hours they’d both fight for your attention because neither were very good at sharing

“luca why can’t daddy give me a hug and then you can?”

his pout deepened

“because he got the last one!”

“tu tienes a mama para ti sola todo el tiempo, ahora es mi turno”

luca turned to stare at his father, his brows furrowing in anger as he crossed his little arms

“ya tienes suficiente mamá, ¡es mi turno papá!”

“luca esta bien mi amor…”

your voice was soft, sensing the toddlers impending meltdown if carlos kept poking at him, so when he looked at you his eyes a little teary you were quick to take him into your arms, pressing a kiss to his little cheeks

“daddy is just joking around lu, it’s alright honey…you can have all the cuddles you want”

luca held onto you tightly as he hid his face in your neck, carlos sporting the matching frown as he stared at you

“so all i have to do is cry and then i get cuddles too?”

“carlos…” you chastised lightly

“what! i don’t like sharing”

“yes but you share better than our little one..he’s a baby still, you get lots of cuddles from me already”

you wanted to laugh at the look on his face, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, crossing his arms as he scoffed jokingly

“luca, ¿puede papá abrazarnos también?”

you asked the four year old quietly, waiting as he nodded his head, eyes on his father as carlos came and sat next to you both, the three of you getting comfortable on the couch.

“papa?”

carlos looked over at luca, his hand reaching out to fix his hair gently

“¿si bebé?”

“este es el único abrazo que tendrás con mamá el resto de la noche”

you couldn’t help but burst out laughing as you squeezed luca’s shoulder, your husband joining in and laughing as well. if there was one thing you both knew is that carlos was clingy with you, but luca was possessive.

you wouldn’t change it any other way, you felt so much love from your two boys and for that you were grateful…even if they fought for your attention 24/7.

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daisybianca · 7 months

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pairing: carlos sainz jr x femalereader

summary: carlos wants you to be his cowgirl.

warnings: mostly fluff, slight mentions of sexual activities.

SCROLLING ON IG, a sight blessed your eyes and surely made your day a little more interesting.

Your boyfriend had posted a fresh new photo and a video on IG. And it definitely was not something you could just like and scroll past.

Fuck, he was so, so...

Hot. And sweat. And kind. And his hair was messy. And his voice ridiculously harsh. And his accent is too cute.

His eyes, though... They were glistening. Bright just like dimonds.

How the hell were you so lucky?

And horny...?

A hand caressed your cheek, retrieving you from the dead of the sleep.

You opened your eyes after feeling a pair of soft and wet lips touching your cheek, then neck, and hand.

"Babe..."

"I'm back, love." Carlos smelled like vanilla. Your favorite. "Sorry to wake you up. You were just... you looked so beautiful." Carlos pulled you in his firm embrace, his big arms locking you close to him as if you were his captive.

"You think I'm beautiful while asleep?" You laughed, smelling his intoxicating aroma. "My mom used to tell me I look like a raccoon."

Carlos chuckled. "I assure you, baby, you don't look like a raccoon at all." He said. "I'd say you look like an angel."

The soft light of the bedside lamp illuminated your face as Carlos turned the lights on.

You yawned and stretched your arms up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "What time is it?" you asked, still half-asleep.

"It's late," he replied, glancing at the clock. "Go back to sleep if you want to, baby."

"No." You curled up under the covers and nuzzled into his chest, resting your head on his chest. "I'm glad you're here," you said softly. "I missed you."

He wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer. "Of course I'm here," he said. "I missed you too, (y/n)." His lips found your temple.

You smiled and closed your eyes, feeling content and warm in his embrace. "I love you," you murmured.

He caressed your hair lovingly. "I love you too," carlos said, his voice gentle and tender.

At first, you tried to dorce yourself into sleep again, but then a sudden thought popped up. "Hey... about the post you made this morning..."

"Yeah? Did you like it?"

"Yes, well.." you hesitated for a brief moment. "Have I ever told you I adore your puppy eyes?"

Carlos laughed. "My what?"

"Your puppy eyes. Don't tell me you've never read your comments."

"What comments?" He looked at you confused.

"Under your posts." You replied. "Girls and even men are thirsting over you every day. I gotta admit I am one of them too. Proudly."

"Hmm," Carlos kissed your nose and cheek. "Why do you like my puppy eyes then?"

"'Cause..." you hesitated, trying to find the rught words ro describe what you actually felt.

"Go on."

This could only be said in one way.

"It kind of..." You looked up at him. His arms were still locked around you. "It kind of makes me want to ride you."

"Kind of?" Carlos chuckled. After a few seconds of silence, he turned to look at you. Serious this time. "Do it."

"What?"

"Do it, baby." Carlos repeated. "Be my cowgirl."

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smoooothoperatorrrr · 10 months

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proof that carlos' love language is violence

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adventuringblind · 2 months

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A Little Sick

Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Sick fic

Summary: Carlos' struggle to take care of his girlfriend who's both sick and regressed. Lucky for him, he knows how to get her to nap.

Warnings: Agere/age-regression, non-sexual ageplay, non-sexual use of daddy, sinus infection, fear of doctors, mentions of past trauma

Notes: Haven't written for Carlos in so long T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

Carlos knew the second he heard sniffling that something wasn't right. The way fatigue seems to drip from his lover didn't go unnoticed.

The problem is that was two weeks ago. She'd claimed allergies or a minor cold. Her disgust at anything having to do with sickness and doctors showing through her lack of acceptance.

Carlos has half a mind to just lay on top of her and force her to rest. Alternatively, if he could get her to regress, this would be immesley easier.

He can see her forcing herself not to. The delicate line between headspace getting blurrier with each day.

It's when she wakes up in tears, the Carlos knows something has to be done.

"Princessa?" He rolls her over and bundles her up into his arms. Her entire body is on fire and when he touches her face, she wails in pain. "We should go see a doctor, amor."

She's non-verbal all morning, trying desperately not to slip in headspace. Until Carlos finally take the initiative. He hates doing this, but he's been doing this long enough to see when she needs to slip and let Carlos take care of her.

Carlos starts small by picking out her clothes. Comfortable, obviously, since they are just going to the doctor. Then he puts her shoes on for her and ties the laces. By the time he's done, he can see the look in her eyes. The one that aches with the need for comfort. Desperate to not face the object of her nightmares.

Carlos grabs her comfort item and places it gently into her hands. He kneels down in front of her. "I won't leave you alone, okay? I'll be with you the entire time. Can you be brave for me?" She gives him a shy nod in response.

Carlos gets her into the car and buckles her seatbelt for her. He turns on soft music and she bobs her head along to the words. He coos at her with how adorable she looks at the moment.

She freezes up the second he pulls into the parking lot. The fear in her eyes says everything. She's on the verge of a breakdown, but Carlos is there to calm her. He holds her hand and helps her breathe before helping her out of the car.

He manages getting her checked in since she's still non-verbal and on the verge of tears. Eyes glassy with terror over being in the place she despises.

Carlos runs his fingers along her spine. "You're doing so good, carina."

She freezes when her name is called. Her body trembling in fear and squeezing the life out of Carlos' hand with her own. He swiftly wraps an arm around her and whispers into her ear some reassurance.

She doesn't say a word to the doctor, only watches him with suspicion. He ends up prescribing antibiotics and sending them on their way.

She wails the second they are in the safety of the car. All the nerves she'd been biting back finally able to burst free of their confines. Carlos has to get her to breathe. The hyperventilation nearly making her sick. He doesn't let go of her hand the entire way home.

He carries her inside, still sniffling from the overwhelming emotions from earlier. Carlos feels awful for having to put her through such a thing. The fact he knows full well why she hates it making it even harder to do.

He settles her on the couch. One he can see her from despite being in the kitchen and hastily throwing together soup. The television is playing her movie of choice. The background noise has become soothing to both of them.

He ends up having to feed her the soup himself. Not that he minds, it just means having to change her clothes afterwards. Which is no easy task considering she's deadweight in his arms. On purpose, mind you, but she's giggling about it, so Carlos makes no complaint.

Carlos puts the movie back on afterwards. Her head resting on his lap as she curls up on the couch. The mountain of blankets obscuring her body and stuffed animals she dutifully brough with her.

"I did good, papá?" Her squeaky voice carries from where the blankets muffle it.

Carlos keeps a steady rhythm, fingers running against her scalp in a comforting manor. The repetition has always put her to sleep within minutes. "The best, amor. Sleep now, the more you rest the sooner you'll get better." Ke kisses her forehead. Her eye's drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

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cutielando · 4 months

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about time ~ carlos sainz

Summary: You and Carlos had been friends for years, but everyone could see that there much more than meets the eye. Carlos' cousin decided to do something about it and push you in the right direction.

Words: 1.0k+

Other works: my masterlist

♡♡♡♡♡

Everyone who knew you and Carlos could tell that you were very much in love with each other.

Well, everyone but the two of you.

You and Carlos had been friends for many years, even prior to him joining Formula 1. You had kept in touch even after he started travelling the world, you often flew out to his races when your schedule would allow it, you would vacation together.

Typical stuff that best friends do.

However, what everyone else could see were the stolen glances when you thought nobody was looking, the little gestures you thought nobody noticed, the extra special attention he would give you whenever you were out, how your eyes sparkled when you talked about the other.

Everything.

It was annoying how oblivious both you and the Spaniard seemed to be.

Carlito, the nicknamed you had for Carlos' cousin in order to tell them apart, had had enough of it and decided that maybe, just maybe, you needed a push in the right direction.

And so the planning began.

You had gotten a message from Carlito asking you to meet him at a restaurant in downtown Las Vegas where the current Grand Prix was being held to discuss something very important.

Coincidentally, Carlos got the same exact message from his cousin, asking him to meet at the same restaurant at the same exact hour as you.

Once you got to the restaurant, you looked around but couldn't spot your long-time friend, so you asked the hostess for your reservation.

Not even 5 minutes after you had been seated, Carlos appears out of nowhere, looking equally as confused as you did.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?" he asked while he shrug off his jacked and draped it over the back of his chair before taking a seat across from you.

"I could ask you the same question. I was supposed to meet Carlito to talk about something tonight" you explained, watching his eyebrows furrow with even more confusion than before.

"I was supposed to meet him to discuss something important as well" his voice was quiet and he seemed deep in thought.

Just before you could say anything else, a waited came by and dropped off an envelope for the two of you, and you could recognize Carlito's handwriting on it.

You took the envelope and opened it, finding a note inside which made a blush coat your cheeks.

"What does it say?" Carlos asked once he saw your reaction to the note.

"Dear Y/N and Carlos, seeing as the two of you are too blind or stupid to see that you are undeniably in love with each other, we have decided to take matters into our own hands. Consider this your very first official date, no excuses. Have fun and wrap it up! Love, Carlitos" you read out loud so he could hear, and his eyes widened when you finished.

Neither of you knew what to say, the only thing you could do was steal glances at each other, both of you blushing to no end.

You were the first one to clear your throat, but Carlos spoke before you could even think of anything you could say.

"He's right" his thick accent made your heart skip a beat, your eyes tingling.

"What?" you were in disbelief.

Carlos loved you? THE Carlos Sainz Jr. was in love with you? He loved you as well? No, yo must be dreaming, that can't be real.

"You heard me"

"Maybe he was right about me too" you spoke, the words rolling off your tongue with ease.

You spent a couple of seconds looking at each other in silence, but it felt like an eternity. You didn't acknowledge anyone around you, feeling like you were the only ones in the whole restaurant in your own little bubble.

"Then we should do exactly as my cousin suggested" he offered you a smile before calling the waiter, ordering the both of you the top notch wine and their most exquisite delicacies that he knew you would enjoy.

As the hours went by and the evening faded into the night, the bond between you and Carlos was reaching a whole new level.

You were discovering each other in ways you didn't even realize you could, learning so many new things about one another from a whole new perspective on things.

As you were getting ready to pack up and leave, Carlos offered you his hand, which you gladly took. It wasn't like you had never held hands before. You had, on several occasions, but never like this.

You had never paid attention to how soft his hands were, how much bigger they were than your petite ones, how comfortable you felt while holding his hand and letting him lead you to wherever he wanted to go with you.

You now savored in the feeling of his hand holding yours, a feeling you didn't know you would ever be able to feel with him.

"What happens now?" you asked Carlos once you had arrived back at his hotel room in the heart of Las Vegas.

He took a seat next to you on the bed, putting his hand on your knee and caressing it lightly.

"What do you want to happen?" ever the gentleman.

"I would want to see where this goes, if we're being honest. I love you and have done so for a while now. We managed to survive this long being friends, what's to say we couldn't survive something more?" you were nervous actually saying it out loud, but the soft caress of Carlos' hand soothed you.

"I want to try, too"

You had never been happier to hear those words in your entire life.

♡♡♡♡♡

The next day at the paddock, everyone could sense the change in the air.

The smile you both sported, holding each other's hands, staying close to each other and whispering in each other's ear as you neared the Ferrari garage didn't go unnoticed by anyone.

"Well?" Carlitos asked as soon as you were within a small distance from him.

"Well what?" you played dumb for a minute.

"You know what I mean. Did you finally get your head out of your ass and make a move?" his question was directed to your boyfriend, who looked offended for a second.

Wow, your boyfriend. What a nice change.

"Shut up" Carlos mumbled as he started to retreat to his driver's room, pulling you along with him.

"I knew it!"

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gottaluvharry · 7 months

Text

Self Care Sunday

Carlos Sainz jr x reader

Carlos surprises you, but your self care gets in the way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaning over the counter you finished touching up your charcoal clay mask. Sunday nights, to you, were always self care nights- even when you were half drunk after clubbing with Carlos because of a good result, skincare was your number 1 priority.

Exiting the bathroom with a towel in your hair, mask perfectly placed, bathrobe and slippers on, and full body moisturized you started your weekly ritual. With your favorite tv show on in the living room and the candle that smells closest to Carlos’ cologne lit on the table, you stirred your pasta on the stove and prepared the table for your dinner. Carlos was in the U.S competing in the Miami GP, and you didn’t expect him to fly home right after the race was over- but he had other plans.

For weeks he had been looking forward to the Miami race because it meant coming home to you immediately, and staying for almost a whole week. Unbeknownst to you, he was waiting at your door with flowers in one of his hands and his suitcase handle in the other while you were setting up the couch for your future movie night. Your stomach dropped at the sound of the door turning, your mind immediately thinking of the worst case scenario. You whip your head around only for your eyes to meet with your favorite pair of brown doe eyes dawned with the smile lines you loved to kiss.

“Carlos!!!” you yelled, running to him and immediately jumping into his arms, your pasta long forgotten on the stove. He laughs and drops your flowers onto the floor, opting to hold you instead without a second thought. You pulled your head of the crook of his neck and examined your fiancé in front of you. “What are you doing back so soon?” you asked, trying to keep your face straight so you don’t mess up the face mask. “I wanted to surprise you, amour” he stated, his eyes roaming across your face. “I see you’ve started your self care early tonight” he observes. You sheepishly smile at him, “yeah well I had nothing to do so I figured why not”. He can barely get over how adorable you look, and he can’t help himself when he leaned forward to kiss you, frowning into the kiss when he didn’t feel you reciprocate. “y/n why aren’t you kissing me back?” he asked with an accidental pout on his lips. “i’m sorry amour, really! i tried but my face mask makes my face all tight and i can’t really move it without messing it up” As you’re explaining, Carlos finds it hard to stay serious. He cracks a smile before he loses it and leans his head back in laughter. “What’s so funny, sainz” you ask, trying to control your smirk. “I just think you’re cute” he says. “But if you won’t kiss me because you don’t want to mess your mask up, i’ll just have to mess it up for you”

You don’t have any time to process what he means by that before he strides over to the couch, throws you down onto it, and starts to tickle you all over the place. A fit of laughter breaks out and you scream, trying to hold his wrists and push them away from you. Carlos almost smiles at both of your little hands trying to push away one of his arms with no success, and continues his attack. At this point, the clay mask on your face has cracks all over the lines on your face, and it’s completely messed up- which was exactly what Carlos was aiming for. He leans back and admires you while you hold your stomach and catch your breath.

This time, when he leans in for a kiss you return it with the same amount of passion, basking in the fact that your fiancé came home early. Allowing yourself the pleasure to be here with him is the most effective thing you’ve done on self care Sunday.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Personally my self care days are whenever Ferrari doesn’t fuck up🥰

also, would you guys ever want me to do a tag list? if so comment or leave me a message in my inbox:)

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vettelsdarling · 10 months

Note

So the reader and Carlos Sainz Jr. has been best friends and eventually lovers in a secret relationship. (Secret cuz privacy, duh) All was well when Carlos was in f2 but now in f1…Carlos is being crazily shipped by fans with another who’s not reader and it is getting into reader’s mind. Carlos is oblivious?? or naive?? or straight up like “it’s the fans babez ignore them.” Meanwhile, every time the reader and Carlos hang out(which is actually a date), the fans always revert back to “aww they are such cute bestFRIENDS” plz angst angst draw it OUT. I want the gut-wrenching, chest clutching ANGST babez. <3 (+Your creativity shall flourish~~)

Am I Yours?

Lissie note… I LOVE this prompt. It leaves as much angst as possible up to interpretation. This is really like letting the genie out of the bottle. Great idea!

Few things to note:

Reader is a PR assistant manager

Reader is only a year younger than Carlos

Reader is being delusional for the most part

“Amanda Higgins” is made up by me

Present time is not the 2023 season

This both does and doesn’t follow a specific timeline, so the races are not going to be in order.

This might get re-written or updated, as I was feeling under the weather whilst writing it!

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x PR!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, oblivious and kind of insensitive Carlos, delusional reader

Word Count: 5.2k+

“I just wanna be yours…”

Back story

2012-2013

You were a sucker for Motorsports. Growing up with a father who was an engineer for Red Bull, you frequently joined him whenever school would allow it. Although the window of opportunity was small, you always begged your father to bring you along.

From expensive hotels to business class; you were living any 17-year-old’s dream. A life of constant travel. Your father had agreed to let you transfer to do online schooling, rather than going to an actual high school. You only had a year left anyway. With that new lifestyle, nothing held you back from coming to every race weekend.

You aspired to become a journalist and a news reporter. Specifically a sports reporter for Formula One. All you ever did was study. You ensured only the best of the best. Your grades never changed and your GPA never budged from a 4.8. So when you finally decided to get more into the Formula world, you decided you’d start in FIA European Formula 3. You wanted more experience before moving on to reporting on Formula One. Although you were still in high school, any experience was good enough for you. Your father somehow made the necessary connections to let you observe the European F3 races.

My god, did you love it. One driver, in particular, had caught your eye. One Carlos Sainz Jr. His style and his methodical approach to driving were more than just captivating. He was merely a year older than you and had already achieved such great things in life. It was incredible.

Meeting him was even better than just observing him swerve around the tracks. He was kind, helped you with your questions, and was able to calm your nerves.

In the beginning, your friendship with him was fairly simple. He texted you every now and then, and you’d come to all his races. The two of you were both on busy schedules, and it was hard to make things work. However, things were subject to change when you started feeling things. Things that you’d never felt before. Racing heart, shortness of breath— it wasn’t the feeling of being starstruck. No, you were completely, utterly, and foolishly in love with the Spaniard.

During mock interviews he��d help you with, your throat would begin to tighten up and you’d more often than not go for several bathroom breaks. All to calm your heart, so that it wouldn’t beat out of your chest. The way his voice wrapped around every little word he spoke. It was velvety and smooth. Much like his driving. You’d be damned if you didn’t confront him.

So confronting him was exactly what you did. One weekend after the race, you’d asked to speak in private. He’d been generous enough to skip his plans to talk to you. Upon revealing your feelings to him, he was surprised, to say the least. Ecstatic was the following emotion that washed away the wide eyes on his chiselled face.

He only popped the question after you’d graduated from high school. To be more exact, he had offered to drive you to the campus of your college. The car ride consisted of slow tunes and his sweet humming. You never expected to hear him ask you to be his. He explained how he knew he’d regret it if he didn’t ask, but there was no explanation needed. You were just as into him, as he was into you.

Was that going to last forever, though?

2015-2017

It had 3 years since you first entered college. Your hard work had been paying off, especially seeing as you were offered an internship at Red Bull Racing. They wanted you in their PR department. Although it wasn’t exactly your forté, you figured it was the deal of a lifetime. You’d get to see your father more often, and you’d see him more often as well.

Carlos was fresh meat in Formula 1 and had been signed with Toro Rosso for the season. He was racing alongside Max Verstappen. A young Dutchman, who broke the record for the youngest driver to compete in the history of Formula One. It was quite impressive, really.

Due to your boyfriend’s position, you were able to see him every now and then. Your boss would make exceptions and would even let you manage him for some time. Given, he did not know your connection to Sainz. Carlos wanted to keep it secret, which you agreed was for the best. With so many fans and people watching all over the world— there was no telling what a dating rumour would stir.

However, despite your best efforts— dating rumours and shipping eventually made their way through the Formula One fandom. It wasn’t exactly what you expected though. It was much worse than that.

“Oh my god, he’s totally blushing at her,” you read aloud. Carlos was sitting in front of you in your shared hotel room. He was at a loss for words. He wasn’t sure what to say.

“Oh wait, here’s another one: Carlos and Amanda are so cute together. I’m here for it.” Your heart was so heavy and your head was swimming in a clouded rage. You weren’t sure if it’d be morally wrong to keep going.

“Corazón—“

“Don’t you ‘Corazón’ me, Carlos,” you spat and scrolled further down the comment section. It was a post that he’d posted of him and the presenter for Formula One. You weren’t usually the jealous and unreasonable type, but it eventually got to you. The way his arm was slung around her waist whilst he smiled at her and looked into her eyes… it was too much for you. The comments only egged on that feeling of despair.

“You know they’re just fans, right? It’s nothing, cariño.” He wasn’t seeing what you were seeing. He couldn’t see how the presenter relished in his touch. Anyone in the comments could see it, so why couldn’t he? You were spiralling. Was he putting up an act on purpose?

“I don’t know…” you sighed and put your phone away. The Spaniard took this as his opportunity to get up and cup your cheeks with his warm hands. The same hands he had on her.

“How about we go out tonight? I’m tired of room service. We can go anywhere you’d like.” You hated the look on his face. It was nothing but pity, but there was little to no energy left in you. Though you wanted to, you were too tired to say no or get too heated.

“Fine…”

It turned out to only add to your anxiety.

As the two of you were seated, waiting for your food to arrive, a fan came over with a giddy spirit. You didn’t mind at all, actually, it was nice to see how much people adored him. All you wanted was to support him in his endeavours. He’d do the same for you, right?

“I’m such a big fan, could you please sign this?” She seemed innocent enough, just wanting an autograph. Harmless. Or so you thought.

“Why isn’t Amanda with you?” Your heart dropped. All week, you’d tried to stay positive. You’d tried to stay calm and rational, but any sense of control was starting to slip. The grip you had on your sense of reality was starting to wither. As long as Carlos defended you, everything would be fine. Your worries would be dampened.

“Ah, no. She’s probably busy.” It didn’t quite sink in until the fan left, satisfied with an answer. You contemplated getting up and leaving, or staying and acting as if everything was okay. Your own boyfriend teased dating rumours with someone else. You couldn’t believe it. Was this really how you were going to live your life?

Present

It had been a year since Carlos and the presenter had started to stir dating rumours. That’s not to say it got better from there. It only worsened. You’d graduated from college, and was a full-time employee and PR assistant manager. You were mostly in charge of Carlos, though you didn’t want to be. Sure, the two of you had been dating for a long time, but the fact that fans had branded you as ‘the other woman’ made you want to drown yourself in a Pinot.

Carlos was still refusing to go public with your relationship. Though you agreed in the beginning, you certainly didn’t anymore. You wanted the truth to be out in the open. All you wanted was for the fans to leave Amanda behind. It almost felt as if your own boyfriend couldn’t care less about you or your feelings. God did it just hurt.

You were walking beside Carlos on the pit lane, taking statements here and there like any other weekend. Except, a man in his early 20s came up with a microphone in Carlos’ face, asking him about the dating rumours between him and the presenter. Although he never admitted to anything, he never denied anything either.

“I think fans like a love story. That’s all, no?” His silly little smile and chuckle would usually lighten any mood, but your heart broke with every little sound escaping from his lips.

Jealousy was a foul beast, but you couldn’t help fostering it deep within you. It tugged at your heart, trying to claw its way into your aorta. You’d really done everything you could to support him, but the relationship felt so empty.

“What kind of response was that?” You whisper-yelled, as the two of you walked into the Toro Rosso motorhome. He closed the door behind him and took a seat in one of the leather chairs displayed in front of a flatscreen.

“What do you mean? You’re the one who keeps telling me to keep all private details of my life private.” He got you there. It felt like you were arguing with a wall. He just couldn’t see what you were seeing. He couldn’t hear the rumours you’d heard. He couldn’t feel the ache that was forming in your gut.

“Carlos… I’m your girlfriend.” That was all you said. His face was that of a puzzled one. You’d stayed quiet for too long about everything. You wanted him to understand. To know what he was doing to you.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to say, cariño.” His cluelessness was like gasoline to the fire you were beginning to light.

You could care less about being petty. You pulled out your phone and started reading several articles and headlines out loud for him. You wanted every bit of your reality to seep into the pores of his skin. You wanted him to feel guilty.

“Who is the other woman Carlos Sainz is cosying up with? Amanda Higgins has yet to make a statement.” Carlos didn’t even have the guts to look at you. He was dead silent.

“I mean, do you see this insanity? Why are you supporting this, when all I’ve ever done is stand by your side?!” Though emotions were running high, every little nerve in your body told you not to cry.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, princesa, I have not done anything wrong!” His defence was weaker than a three-year-old trying to spoon-feed itself.

“Carlos, can’t you fucking see what you’re doing to me? I’m ‘the other woman’ in the public’s eyes! I have spent nights crying myself to sleep. I keep thinking, maybe one day you might actually leave me… for her.” You leaned against the counter behind you. Carlos stayed seated, watching as your face contorted with anger. You were desperately holding back those salty drops of sadness.

“You know that I love you, isn’t that enough?”

“—but do I really? Right now, I don’t even know if you’re lying. I don’t know if you’re just telling me this because it’ll make me feel better. Even so, it’s not enough. It just isn’t.” A sigh left your lips, and you looked at your hands fiddling with your phone for comfort.

“You’re being unreasonable now. Of course, I love you—”

“But love isn’t enough, Carlos! I need your support. I need you to shut down the rumours! I need you to tell me all of these things. I don’t want to be yours, I need to be yours.” It was a sob party now. Your eyes stung from the mascara you’d put on earlier that morning. Carlos had yet to show much emotion other than distress. Reasonable, but not enough.

“Why shouldn’t I just give the fans what they want? You keep reminding me to keep them at bay, right?” Once again, he’d somehow found a way to completely skip over your feelings.

“Because it’s hurting me! Day and night I dread the next headline! ‘Carlos and his PR assistant are such great friends!’, “Red Bull PR assistant; an insight into Carlos Sainz’ best friend’, I mean, when will it stop?!” Yelling wasn’t productive, but neither was avoiding the subject. If Carlos refused to care, why did you still hold on so tightly? Why couldn’t you let go like him?

“Cariño…”

“No, Carlos. No pet names. I’m done. We’re done. Call me when you have the heart to do something about all of this. Otherwise, don’t contact me. I’m asking to get assigned to Max.” The heartbreak in his eyes was nothing compared to what you were feeling. Your eyes only met him for a moment, but you could already tell that he couldn’t get his words out. It caused a scoff to leave your mouth before you left the motorhome.

It took some time and much convincing to be put in charge of Max. Much to your pleasure, he was rather easy to deal with. He knew all the right things to say and knew when to deviate from uncomfortable subjects. You knew from your years of experience in journaling, that the media would sink its petty little claws into anything. Max was surprisingly skilled in staying out of the big bird’s clutches.

Carlos followed your orders. Almost too well. A week had gone by, and he had yet to shoot you a message or asked you to meet up. Max tried to sympathize with you, but there was only so much a teenager could do. Besides, he had his father to deal with. Burdening the poor soul with your troubles was the last thing you wanted.

Travelling had become boring. It used to be you and Carlos exploring the cities you were in for the race. Now it was merely you sipping expensive Cabernet. It was self-torture. You would often scroll through the sea of headlines and comments about the media’s “IT ship”, and it was starting to drown you slowly.

You were being eaten by a dark matter of doubt, guilt, and self-hatred. Maybe, you thought, maybe you were the problem? Maybe you’d pushed it too far? Was it really your place to lash out over petty rumours?

The more time passed, the more insane and irrational you were becoming. Max was reasonably worried about you, as you’d started to look pale and the bags under your eyes were heavier than his carry-on. The team noted that they were willing to give you paid leave, as they noticed your declining physical state.

You were there, but you weren’t. You lived in the world of Amanda and Carlos. Everything was upside down. Your boyfriend had the presenter clinging onto his arm, your Carlos had Amanda Higgins on his lap, and your life was wrapped around a woman. A woman that wasn’t you. No, you were the other woman. The one who let jealousy eat away at her spindly little feet. The ones that’d been carrying her delusions of a relationship with the Spaniard.

Everywhere you walked, they were there too. Wrapped around each other in pure bliss with fans cheering them on. All the whilst you had to watch from the sidelines. You were just the average PR assistant manager. You weren’t famous like she was. The media was eating the perfect love story up like piranhas exposed to fresh blood.

You wanted to tell someone about your situation, but you knew that it wouldn’t be received well. No matter who you were to tell it to. That was the real torture of it all. Carlos was in a position where he could deny ever making any unprofessional contact with you. Was he that kind of person? Did you even know who he was?

He was another woman’s man… was he not?

Eventually, a couple of months passed without so much as a text. You’d worked yourself tirelessly and to the brink of insanity— if you hadn’t gone over the bend yet, that is. Carlos hadn’t even looked in your direction.

Except that wasn’t true.

Carlos’ reality of the situation was far different from yours. He couldn’t see the problem with his fans and the fandom surrounding Formula One. He’d seen it happen to many other drivers, so he couldn’t understand why you’d be so opposed to it. He truly believed his unconditional love for you was enough. Except it apparently wasn’t.

His chest felt heavy every time you spoke of Amanda. The lady had practically forced herself to be thrust into the hands of the media with him. She was relentless. The Spaniard had no choice but to oblige so that he wouldn’t be subject to a smear campaign.

Yes, he’d been listening to you. All of your lessons. All of your endless boring talks of how to handle the public. He listened to every little detail that left those pouty, pretty lips of yours. In fact, he relished listening to the soft tone of your voice. He loved when it went up an octave if you praised him for his efforts. One might even argue you were the one who kept him going. Your validation meant the world to him.

He only wanted to reciprocate all the hard work you’d done for him. The post of the presenter and him was merely a feeble attempt at writing your name in the sun, except the shade came all too soon.

So when you confronted him about the media, he couldn’t understand why you were so riled up about it. In his eyes, he’d become a loving heartthrob. Essentially, the goal of PR. You weren’t supposed to bring hell on earth, you were supposed to tell him how great he was doing.

The way you questioned his love and devotion to you stung like a stake in the heart of a vampire. He could feel his throat closing up. He couldn’t get the right words out. Any defence he had was like acid burning the sides of his throat, forever stuck there.

He despised Amanda, but he knew what would happen if he started acting aloof and indifferent. He’d be ruined. His image— tarnished for the whole world to see.

When you told him not to contact you, he couldn’t help but feel a growing pit in his stomach. He felt as if the fame had gotten to his head. Had it? Was he really that hungry for the love of his fans rather than his beloved girlfriend? Was he really chasing adoration from fans rather than from his girlfriend?

Carlos was too ashamed— too guilt-ridden to say anything to you. On the days he promised himself to step up, you weren’t in sight. On the days you walked around in all your glory, his had sunken to the bottom of the sea of self-hatred he harboured for himself.

Admittedly, your impatience was starting to show. Carlos would notice the small glances you’d shoot him. It gave him hope, but he was too afraid. He was afraid of hurting you. Though he desperately wanted to salvage whatever the public had desiccated from your romance, he couldn’t find it in him to simply walk up to you.

What made matters worse, was that Amanda didn’t seem to back off either. She continued egging the reporters on. She teased the fantastical relationship between her and the Toro Rosso driver. There was no remorse to be seen on her face. No, she was deep in denial. If that was what it was. She certainly didn’t accept the fact that Carlos was potentially spoken for.

Your reality was like a grey-scale filter. Everything was dark and gloomy. It was hard to see the point of working in the same vicinity as your boyfriend. You’d let your delusions spin so far out— you almost didn’t believe Carlos ever was yours. He was never your friend. You expected too much. You were a nobody, and he was a star.

“You should really talk to Carlos. Not just stand there and yell, but actually talk to him,” you told yourself in the mirror. It was harder to convince yourself to do so than to convince yourself that he’d never even met you.

“Did I walk in on something I shouldn’t have?” Your heart dropped. There was a slight buzz in your ear, as you computed what was going on. You recognized that accent all too well. That smooth, velvety voice. The one that you’d fallen for all those years ago. Oh, and when you turned around. You saw those docile eyes. The eyes you had no problem falling asleep to. The eyes that always reassured your safety.

“Carlos.” The motorhome was empty besides you and him. The weather was horrendous, but the soft pattering of the rain made the ambience comfortable. Carlos came closer. You were sitting in one of the leather chairs. Everything about the situation was giving you major deja vu.

“I had a lot of time to think about what I would—“ You didn’t want to hear his sob story. There was one thing you wanted to know. One thing you needed to hear him say.

“Am I yours?” You gave him a chance to answer this time. You needed to hear him say it. You wanted him to say the words. He never got to say it though. The door to the motorhome burst open, and you saw Max looking at you with a frantic expression.

“Max? Are you alright? You don’t look too well.” Carlos watched as you rushed to his teammate’s side. An external force tugged at his heart, seeing you be so worried about the Dutch driver.

“I just don’t have a ride home. My father stranded me here. You have a car, right? Can you drive me, please?” Max seemed really desperate. Seeing as how his father didn’t even have the heart to stay and watch him race, you felt too bad to say no.

“Of course, I’ll drive you, Max. I’ll grab my keys and you can just wait by the grey Golf outside.” He left in a hurry and you grabbed your keys, giving your boyfriend a last glance before heading out. Getting an answer was less important than getting a teenager home. Having grown up with a functional family, you felt a sense of pity whenever you saw Max alone. His father obviously believed in tough love, no matter the consequences to his son’s mental health.

“What is the deal with you and Sainz?” Max asked as the two of you got in. It felt wrong to lay your burdens onto the teen, so you decided to shrug it off as nothing; saying,

“He just had some questions to ask regarding the upcoming appearance on the big scene. You know, just some jitters before tomorrow.” It was a completely plausible and valid lie, which seemed to work.

“Oh, I see… but why couldn’t he have his own coach answer?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions, Max…” He rolled his eyes and sighed, as he leaned against the window. Lucky for you, your million-dollar idea of turning out the awkward silence with music paid off. Max didn’t seem to mind your taste and would even tap his shoes against the fuzzy floor of the car at times.

After Max thanked you for the ride and went inside his designated hotel, you drove straight to the hotel you were staying at. It wasn’t anything fancy like you used to stay at with Carlos. After putting a damper on your relationship, you decided to stay as far away from him as possible. It was very plausibly your own delusions feeding you the idea, but there were no take-backs.

You stepped into a cold shower, washing away all of your distress from earlier. With every cold drop, you felt pieces of your rationality come back to you. You knew there’d have to be a talk after the next sunrise, but thinking about it made your body ache. It clenched your nerves together tightly.

You got into your silk nightgown, finished your night routine, and threw yourself on the queen-sized bed. It was no king-sized bed like it was with your love, but it sufficed. The pillows were nothing against his warm embrace. The bed felt empty. It felt like the cold clutches of nothingness were holding you impossibly close. It felt as if your head barely peaked above a massive flood. Your throat felt stuffy. Your eyes were pricked with tears. Though you’d promised yourself on multiple occasions that you wouldn’t cry, the thought of Carlos missing by your side cued the waterworks.

Going through your phone and scrolling through the many pictures that fans had taken of your boyfriend with the presenter… It only made things worse. Anything the shower had done for you was quickly reverted back to the way it was before. It hit you like a wild hurricane, sweeping away anything in its way.

Eventually, you ended up crying yourself to sleep. The following morning made you realize that fact, as your eyes were swollen and red. You knew you only had so much time to get ready and get to the big stage. You weren’t going to get up there, luckily, but you still had to debrief Max.

Your makeup job covered most of your swelling, but it was noticeable up close. You didn’t have much time to think about it though, and you had to leave to not be late.

Upon arriving, you saw Max talking to Carlos. Something you hadn’t really seen before. Sure, they spoke to each other on rare occasions, but they were usually kind of stand-off-ish about each other. You swiftly pulled the Dutchman aside to do a quick rundown of appropriate behaviour and vibe on the stage. He seemed somewhat aloof but present. You ignored it and hoped that he’d just make your job easier by doing as he was told.

Amanda was on the stage, looking over the flock of fans. Many of them were holding up signs shipping her and Sainz together. Every sign you saw was like a splinter to puncture your lungs. It stung badly. The ditzy presenter announced Carlos and Max to the stage, and you saw them wave happily to the roaring crowd.

“The stage is yours,” Amanda said and handed a microphone to Max and one for the Spaniard as well.

“Actually, the stage is his.” Max pointed at his teammate with his microphone. You were utterly confused. What was Max thinking? You were starting to second-guess your own abilities to debrief someone at that age.

“Thank you, Max, um…” he hesitated. The crowd went silent to hear him talk, as he looked to be quite nervous.

“I have something important to say before the race, and I think this is one of those times you can’t let the opportunity slip.” There was a strange feeling growing inside your chest. A thousand butterflies had taken up residency within the comfort of your rib cage.

“Firstly, I have to make one thing clear. I know many people think otherwise, but Amanda and I are not and have never been in a romantic relationship. Our relationship is purely platonic.” You heard disappointed sighs from the crowd, but some gasped with delight. Of course, there were always some fans who loved it when drivers weren’t taken, but what Carlos said next… was more than just shocking,

“In fact, I have been hopelessly in love with who I consider my first and last love for years now. She knows who she is, and I would actually like for her to step onto the stage, please.” Your heart dropped. Your stomach dropped. Your ears started ringing. The guts Carlos had to reveal that in front of thousands— if not millions of people… you couldn’t believe it.

You slowly waltzed up the stairs to the stage and felt your heart pump blood out as if it was sped up mechanically. Max gave you a curt but sweet smile, as you walked up next to his teammate.

“Hi…” you mumbled. He pulled you close to him by your waist and showed you off like a championship trophy. In some reality, that was what you were in his eyes. His very own trophy.

There was some irony to the situation. You were a PR assistant manager, yet you couldn’t handle the stage. You saw the many peering eyes and the judgemental looks of jealous teenage girls.

“This is my beautiful girlfriend. We’ve been together since my days in European Formula 3.” The crowd had mixed emotions, but many managed an “aww”. You simply let Carlos do all the talking because you were frozen. Everything felt so unreal.

“Mi reina,” his voice was shaky as he turned to face you,

“Yesterday you asked me something I’ve been wanting to give you an answer to for as long as I can remember. I know that we’ve gone through so much lately, and I’ve not been able to stop thinking about you. My angel, my princess, you are the love of my life. You are the reason I stand here so proud today. You asked me, ‘Am I yours?’ To this, I say, you tell me.” Your eyes nearly popped out of your skull as you saw your boyfriend ease down on one knee. From his back pocket, he pulled out a gorgeous diamond ring. The crying you’d done during your break was a puddle compared to the waterfall that spilt from your eyes.

Everyone was dead silent and waiting eagerly for your answer.

“I am. I am yours,” you choked out through your tears. The crowd went wild, people were cheering and throwing whatever merchandise they had on them on the stage. The Spaniard pulled you in for a sweet and long-lasting kiss. All the delusions, all the doubts, all the distrust— it melted away with the embrace of who you’d be spending the rest of your life with. You couldn’t wait for the future. Pulling away from the kids, you saw that same hopeful look in your lover's eyes, that you fell in love with all those years ago. His smile was so genuine. Everything about him was genuine. You took a moment to admire the rock on your ring finger. It suited you perfectly. All that was left was the wedding and the rest of your lives.

You were his and he was yours.

𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...

𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!

𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.

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