#Carlos Drabble | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

23victoria · 10 months ago

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“can you watch my boyfriend for a sec?” ❁

f1 grid x fem!reader

summary: TikTok trend with the grid!!

authors note: saw the carlos one and knew i had to write about it!! his reaction made me laugh!! i also just saw mclaren do it to oscar!! i hope the other teams do it to their drivers as well!! also first time writing for seb, jenson, and daniel, i had the time so i said why not?!any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

f1 masterlist

Lewis

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab something from the car."

You head out, leaving Lewis alone in front of your phone's camera. He looks around, slightly bewildered.

"What? Y/N who’s on the phone? Uh, hey there. I guess I'm being watched. So... how's everyone doing? Good? Cool. Uh, any Mercedes fans here?" He starts talking about his day and how Roscoe is doing, trying to entertain the 'audience'. "Alright, she'll be back any minute now... right?"

Max

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take out the trash."

Max raises an eyebrow as you walk away. He looks at the phone, unsure of what to say.

"Huh? Um, okay. This is weird. Hi, everyone….I guess…..Y/N what is this?! Who’s on the phone? So…what do we do now? Should I... talk about racing? Or... maybe I could just sit here…?" He awkwardly shuffles in his seat, checking his watch. "How long does it take to throw out the trash? Y/N come back! I don’t know what to say or do!"

Lando

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get a drink from the kitchen."

Lando grins as you walk away, immediately knowing the TikTok trend. He leans in closer to the camera.

"Hey, TikTok! I was wondering when Y/N was going to do this trend on me! What have you guys been up to? Should I prank her back? Give me some ideas in the comments!" He starts to look around, trying to find something to do. "Should I play some games on my computer or maybe I'll hide and jump out when she gets back?"

Oscar

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to get my food."

Oscar blinks, looking at the phone and then at the door you just walked towards. He frowns slightly.

"Huh? What….okay? Uh, hi? I guess you guys are going to watch me eat my breakfast…Not sure what I'm supposed to do here. Should I be saying something interesting?" He scratches his head, and moves his food around, clearly uncomfortable. "So, did you guys have breakfast yet? I hope you did, breakfast is important….uhhh yea. Y/N!! Babe!! Come back!! I don’t know what to do!!"

Charles

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to take a call."

Charles watches you leave, then looks at the phone, confused but trying to be polite.

"Uh? Wait what? Hello, everyone. I guess your...on watch duty?" He laughs nervously. "This feels strange. Maybe I should sing a song? Or talk about Ferrari? Oh, I know, I'll play some music on my piano!" He moves towards the piano, but then hesitates. "Wait, how long is this call going to be? Y/N! Baby!!"

Carlos

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to make a smoothie."

Carlos looks at the camera, then at the direction you went, raising an eyebrow.

“What is this? Hello? Anyone there? Who were you talking to? Y/N?! Uhhhh hi… Wait, a smoothie? Bebe make me one too please! Okay, hi everyone. This is Carlos, just here... being watched?" He starts looking around, picking up random items on the table. "So, let me show you my favorite things on this table. This is a cool pen, and this is... a coaster. Fascinating, right?" He chuckles, shaking his head. "This is so weird. How long does making a smoothie take anyway?"

Sebastian

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to water the plants."

Sebastian gives you a puzzled look as you leave and then turns to the camera, smiling politely.

"What?! Y/N what is this? Hello? Hello? Anywhere there? I’m confused… Y/N!! Who were you talking too? Honey? … Um, hello everyone… I guess I'm under surveillance now." He chuckles. "So, while she's watering the plants, let's talk about... sustainability! Did you know you can make your own compost at home? It's really simple and great for your garden." He starts explaining the process, gesturing enthusiastically. "I hope she comes back soon because I might run out of eco-friendly tips! Oh wait!! I know! Let me show you my bees!!"

Jenson

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to grab the mail."

Jenson watches you leave with a bemused smile, then looks at the phone.

"Ummm what?! Babe? Y/N? Hello? Uhhh..hey there. So, I guess I need to be watched for a minute. You guys are in babysitting duty? Let’s see... what can I do to entertain you?" He glances around and spots his dogs. "Hey, meet my dogs! Come here babies!." He tries to get their attention but Bentley and Rouge ignore him, while Storm walks up to him, just to sit and stare at him. "Well, that didn’t go as planned. I guess they’re tired from playing this morning. Oh well, maybe next time! Isn’t that right Storm." he says putting down the camera.

Daniel

You: "Hey guys, can you watch my boyfriend for a sec? I need to fix something in the bathroom."

Daniel immediately grins and laughs as you walk away, sensing a prank.

“Huh? Babe? What? Oh wait! It’s that TikTok trend!! Alright, what’s up TikTok, what's going on? He starts making funny faces at the camera and then leans in closer. "I have no idea what to talk about. This is so stupid and awkward.” He says bursting out laughing. He keeps glancing towards the bathroom, barely containing his laughter. "Babe come back!!"

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jungwnies · 2 months ago

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the dad who stepped up | carlos sainz (cs55)

୨ৎ : featuring : carlos sainz x fem!reader/singlemom!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis (requested by anon) : not the biological father, but rather the father who stepped up!

୨ৎ : genre : romance & fluff ୨ৎ : word count : 947

୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : this was such a cute little story, i can only imagine the spanglish going crazy in this household <3 psa... intentionally all lowercase

carlos never thought about being a dad so soon. sure, he wanted kids someday, but he always figured it would come later, after racing, after settling down. what he didn’t expect was for you to walk into his life, a single mom with a baby boy who barely knew how to say papa yet.

he met you when your son, nico, was only eight months old. you had been hesitant at first, not wanting to bring someone into your child’s life unless you were sure. but carlos? carlos was patient. he never rushed you, never forced his way in. he just showed up.

at first, it was small things; holding nico when your arms were full, rocking him to sleep when he got fussy, making faces at him across the dinner table just to see him giggle. then, before either of you knew it, nico wasn’t just some baby carlos happened to know. he was his boy.

now, four years later, carlos can’t imagine life any other way.

—

"okay, buddy, one more time, but this time big swings," carlos calls from the backyard, watching as nico grips his tiny golf club, determination all over his little face.

you stand nearby, sipping on a lemonade, watching your two favorite people as the warm breeze rustles through the trees.

nico, tongue sticking out in concentration, takes a swing, too hard, and the plastic ball rolls about a foot away.

"that was amazing!" carlos exclaims, throwing his hands up as if nico just hit a hole-in-one at augusta.

"it barely moved!" nico whines, stomping his foot.

carlos kneels beside him, adjusting his grip. "the trick isn’t power, campeón (champion), it’s control. even papá sainz had to learn that."

you smile, shaking your head as you watch them. “carlos, if you turn him into a golf snob before he even learns how to ride a bike, we’re gonna have a problem.”

carlos grins over his shoulder at you. “you say that now, but when he’s winning the masters, you’ll be thanking me.”

nico nods along, even though he has absolutely no idea what the masters is. “sí, mami! (yes, mommy!)”

your heart melts every time nico switches between english and spanish so naturally, something carlos had made sure to teach him from the moment he could talk.

—

later that evening, after dinner, you’re curled up on the couch together, nico snuggled in between you and carlos with his favorite book in hand.

“papá, can you read the book en español? (papa, can you read the book in spanish?)” nico asks, eyes wide with excitement.

carlos raises an eyebrow, clearly pleased. “sí, pero solo un poquito, eh? (yes, but just a little, okay?) i don’t want you getting confused.”

you smile, resting your head against carlos’s shoulder as he begins reading, seamlessly switching between english and spanish.

"the little dog ran through the…el bosque (the forest)…looking for his friend… pero no lo encontró (but he didn’t find him). so he kept running and running…hasta que… (until…)"

nico listens intently, repeating some of the words in his tiny voice.

“bosque!” he says proudly.

carlos grins, tapping his nose gently. “eso! muy bien, campeón. (that’s it! very good, champion.)”

you watch as carlos pauses and turns to nico. “and what’s a bosque?”

nico scrunches his little face, thinking hard before answering, “umm… a forest?”

carlos nods approvingly. “exacto! (exactly!)”

you laugh, shaking your head. “i swear, this kid is gonna be fluent before i am.”

carlos smirks, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “well, mamá, looks like you need some spanish lessons too.”

you playfully elbow him, making him chuckle.

just as you think nico is starting to doze off, his tiny voice pipes up.

“papá, i’m sleepy… pero i want uno más cuento. (papa, i’m sleepy… but i want one more story.)”

carlos lets out an exaggerated sigh, feigning exhaustion. “one more? vale, uno más. (okay, one more.)”

he flips the page, his voice soft as he continues reading. you feel nico’s breathing slow, his tiny body relaxing between the two of you.

you glance up at carlos, who is watching nico with that same gentle, loving look he always has. he catches you staring and gives you a small smile, his fingers reaching out to brush over your hand.

“you know,” you whisper, “you never had to do any of this.”

carlos furrows his brows. “what do you mean?”

you swallow the lump in your throat. “i mean… you didn’t have to be his dad. you could’ve just dated me and kept your distance. but instead, you’re his person. and i just… i don’t know. i hope you know how much i love you for that.”

carlos studies you for a moment before shaking his head, as if the thought of not stepping up for nico is ridiculous. he lifts your intertwined fingers, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

“i didn’t have to, amor,” he murmurs. “i wanted to. i chose this. i chose you. i chose him. and i’d do it again a thousand times over.”

tears prick your eyes, but before you can say anything, carlos leans down and places a gentle kiss on nico’s forehead.

“buenas noches, mi pequeño campeón. (good night, my little champion.)”

nico barely stirs, already deep in sleep.

carlos turns back to you, smiling softly. “now come on, mamá, let’s go watch bad reality tv and pretend we don’t have to wake up early tomorrow.”

you laugh, shaking your head as you follow him to the couch, where his arm instinctively wraps around you.

carlos sainz wasn’t the father by blood.

but he was the father who stepped up.

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hemmingsleclerc · 1 year ago

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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 of 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, you again” 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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maxtermind · 8 months ago

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texting the f1 men about the fatass hickeys they left on us from the night before

f1 drivers reacting to the hickeys they left on you

★ : feat :: max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri, lewis hamilton, george russell, alex albon

( misc. masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request )

⤷．＞ᗜ＜．MAX VERSTAPPEN !

max loves you the most in the world or so he thinks. what he really loves the most is how he teases you tease you, and this time is no different.

when you point out the giant hickey and whine, he smirks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oops, my bad,” your boyfriend says with a shrug, there’s nothing apologetic about his tone and it baffles you just how smug he is being.

you narrow your eyes at him, knowing full well he did it on purpose. you stand up before pointing a finger at him and he immediately speaks before you can.

“or maybe it was my plan all along,” he adds quickly, his smirk widening though he tries to make it go away. you huff in mock frustration, again before you can retort, he pulls you into his lap, kissing you softly.

“i'm putting you on ban,” you mutter softly against his lips, trying to fake being mad. “you can try,” max murmurs back, his hands gently tracing the outline of the hickey he left.

you sigh and shake your head as you watch your boyfriend admiring the marks he left on you.

⤷．＞ᗜ＜．CHARLES LECLERC !

charles can’t help the grin that spreads across his face when you mention the hickey, his eyes lighting up with a mix of pride and mischief. that pisses you off majorly.

“looks like my most precious masterpiece,” he says proudly, tilting his head while he gently holds your chin to admire the mark he left as if it were a work of art.

“i should’ve signed it.” you give him a playful shove, but he just laughs, clearly pleased with himself. “let's sign it.”

“you’re absolutely ridiculous,” you say, trying to sound annoyed, but the way he’s looking at you with such adoration makes it impossible to stay mad. the butterflies in your stomach going losing their minds along with you.

“ridiculously in love with you,” charles counters, his voice softening as he pulls you into his arms. a snort leaves you before you give in and hug him back.

your boyfriend presses a gentle kiss to the hickey, his lips lingering there as if to seal his claim. “and i’m not sorry about it,” he adds with a grin, making you roll your eyes but unable to hide the smile that’s tugging at your lips.

charles has a way of making even the most exasperating things feel like a sweet gesture of love, and this is no exception. not that you were too mad to begin with.

⤷．＞ᗜ＜．CARLOS SAINZ !

carlos raises an eyebrow when you mention the size of the hickey, a smile slowly spreading across his face. “that’s because everything i do is larger than life, baby,” he says confidently, leaning back with a satisfied grin.

you huff , crossing your arms over your chest. “more like larger than necessary,” you quip back, trying to sound annoyed, but his confidence is infectious.

he chuckles, reaching out to pull you into his lap with ease. “necessary? i think you mean legendary,” he corrects, his voice low and teasing as he nuzzles your neck, brushing his lips against the hickey he left.

you’re about to protest, but the way his hands hold you so securely and his lips trace gentle patterns on your skin makes it hard to stay mad.

“just admit it,” he whispers against your ear and the tingles hit you like a punch to your stomach. “you still want more.” you hold eye contact, opening your lips to tell him just how less you want when he suddenly switches the position.

a yelp leaves your mouth instead as he towers over you,“you were saying something, baby?” but as he rubs your skin under your shirt, it feels too good to just end it so you say nothing as you just stare at your boyfriend before you squeeze him back and he knows he’s won.

⤷．＞ᗜ＜．LANDO NORRIS !

lando’s grin could probably blind anyone cause of how it shines through as soon as you mention the hickey. his eyes light up with mischief, and he leans in closer to inspect the mark with an exaggerated look of admiration, lips pursued and hand to his chin.

“looks like i’ve marked my territory well,” he teases with a straight face, running his fingers gently over the spot and you shove him away. knowing your neck and cheeks were red enough to give away what you were really feeling.

but the way his grin widens tells you he knows exactly how you’re secretly enjoying it and probably hat is going to happen next. he tilts your chin up, his voice dropping to a lower, more sincere tone.

“now everyone knows you’re taken,” he says, before sucking a bit atop the hickey he left behind, sending shivers down your spine though you try to keep your restrain up.

“by a vampire?” you snap and instantly gulp, gaze softening as you watch your boyfriend's head being pulled back as he laughs. your hands shake gently as you hold his head and pull it towards yours. lando kisses you back right then, smirking a bit against your lips.

he pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his playful grin softening into something more affectionate. “if that's what it takes to keep you.”

⤷．＞ᗜ＜．OSCAR PIASTRI !

oscar’s eyes widen in surprise when you tell him about the hickey, he pockets his phone as he walks over to you. you snicker because honestly, it's hard to catch your boyfriend off guard usually.

“what? where? from me?” he stammers, his face blanches. clearly panicking. you can’t help but giggle out at his bewilderment, watching as he tries to piece together how he could’ve left such a mark without realizing it.

“do i need to draw you a map?” you tease, but he’s already reaching for his phone, attempting to find a hack so it could get covered up. you gently stop him, still chuckling at his flustered state.

“it’s not that serious,” you assure him, but he still looks like he’s trying to figure out how he really feels about doing this to you on a day he knows you're going out with your boyfriends. your two steps ahead though and kissing him when you watch him lost in his head.

finally, he lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head at himself. “i guess i got a bit carried away,” oscar admits sheepishly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.

he pulls you into a hug, pressing a soft kiss to the spot he marked. “at least no boy would dare to approach you,” he adds with a grin that makes your heart stop.

⤷．＞ᗜ＜．LEWIS HAMILTON !

lewis’s face immediately softens when you show him the hickey, his eyes filling with concern and a touch of guilt. “oh no, i’m so sorry, love,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing lightly over the mark as if he could somehow undo it with just a touch.

“i didn’t mean to get carried away.” you smile at his genuine remorse, gently cupping his cheek and pulling him closer. “it’s okay, lewis, it’s not the end of the world,” you reassure him, but he still looks like he’s beating himself up over it.

“i just want to make sure i’m always treating you right,” he says softly, his voice laced with sincerity. he presses a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment.

“of course you are,” you whisper before lightly biting your lip. “especially when you take me like you did last night.”

“next time, i’ll be more careful… unless, of course, you don't want me to,” he adds with a teasing grin, catching up to how you were feeling about the situation.

⤷．＞ᗜ＜．GEORGE RUSSELL !

it was almost comical how george freezes when you mention the hickey, his eyes darting to yours with a mixture of surprise and worry. “you could say it was uh… a mosquito?” he tries, his voice shaky and uncertain.

you burst out laughing, and his tense expression softens, though he still looks a bit worried about your reaction. “okay, fine, i know that won't work,” your boyfriend admits, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly unsure of how you’re feeling about it.

“but i’ll buy you a scarf or something to cover it up!” he quickly offers, his voice tinged with nervousness. you shake your head, still smiling as you step closer to him. “it’s okay, george, i don’t mind,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist.

he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and pulls you into a tight hug, his face nuzzling into your hair. “you sure? i’ll still get you the scarf,” he mumbles against your hair, making you giggle.

“wonder what you'll do after i will mark you before some race weekend.” you tease, and he chuckles softly, finally relaxing.

though his body stiffs again when he gets a text n the group chat with your friends of how they are all changing his contact name to: y/n's pet mosquito.

⤷．＞ᗜ＜．ALEX ALBON !

alex’s blinks at you in surprise when you mention the hickey, tilting his head as if he’s not quite sure he heard you right. you soon realise that he's just acting when he opens his mouth.

“you’re welcome! that one’s on the house,” your boyfriend announces cheekily, clearly proud of the mark he left. you raise an eyebrow, already knowing where this conversation is headed.

“but the next one will cost you a kiss,” he adds, winking at you with a teasing glint in his eyes. you shake your head, pretending to be annoyed, but the smile threatening to break through gives you away.

“that’s not how this works!” you protest, but he just shrugs, pulling you into his arms with that effortless charm of his. “with me, it does,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, flirtatious tone as he leans in to kiss you.

“my love bites don't come for free.” alex mutters, laughing loudly at his own joke. “more like a love chomp.” you drawl, smiling tightly when you watch his brows furrow.

alex just settles to kissing you again to shut you up. his lips soft against yours, and you find yourself melting into it, any thoughts of the hickey long forgotten.

©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

★ : a/n :: i'm aware that this was a text request but i wanted to write some fluff for a change, sorryyy🥲 new format lmk how you like it :3 feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

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folkloresthings · 9 months ago

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❛ THUNDERSTRUCK ❜ ❨ charles leclerc x dcc!reader ❩

where ferarri’s golden boy is in love with america’s sweetheart and doesn’t care what anyone has to say about it.

faceclaim: reece weaver.

… based loosely off of this request and my current obsession after binging the dcc documentary

INSTAGRAM.

liked by dccheerleaders, charles_leclerc, and 837,922 others

yourusername AHH!! so so so happy to announce that i’ll be returning for another year as a dallas cowboys cheerleader 💙 it’s my favourite job in the world and i couldn’t dream of doing anything else. see you on the field!!!

view all 521,446 comments

user my fav girl after watching the doc on netflix!!!

dccheerleaders can’t wait for game day! 💙🏈📣

⤷ yourusername go cowboys!!!!

user is there going to be a season 2?

user what is mister charles leclerc doing in the likes

⤷ user america’s sweethearts/drive to survive crossover?

charles_leclerc 💙💙💙

⤷ user HELLO????

TWITTER.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by carlossainz55, franciscagomez and 890,482 others

yourusername tune in today to watch us represent texas at the annual USA formula 1 grand prix! 🏎️ what’s harder: driving cars at 120mph or the thunderstruck choreo?

view all 700,019 comments

scuderiaferrari you guys definitely win the difficulty contest

⤷ user dcc could race f1 but the drivers could never do the jump splits

user is she there w charles????

user you guys are obsessed, they’re probably not even dating

⤷ user i hope not, he suited girls like alex and charlotte so much more

landonorris me watching the pre-race performance 🤯🤯🤯

user okay i’m not a fan of her but that dancing???? holy shit she’s talented

⤷ user right??? those high kicks were fire

charles_leclerc i have, indeed, been thunderstruck

⤷ yourusername all the way to P1, i hope

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,739,183 others

charles_leclerc bring your (beautiful, talented, badass, kind, yeehaw) girlfriend to work day and she’ll become your good luck charm

view all 801,443 comments

user NOOO 💔 one win, one loss

carlossainz55 congrats bro!!! but you should’ve done the hairography on podium

⤷ user carlos knows what hairography is 😭

user he really shut you all down lmao

yourusername MY CHAMP! love you 🩷🩷🩷

⤷ user awwww they are cute you gotta admit

liked by rebeccadonaldson, lilymunihe and 1,309,433 others

yourusername swapped blue for red for a day ❤️

view all 707,375 comments

user they’re growing on me

redbullracing come visit us next time and you can wear blue 😉

⤷ scuderiaferrari she’s ours!!!!

⤷ dccheerleaders maybe we should change our uniforms to red?

user she’s so cute

⤷ user right 🥹 you could hear her cheering for charles at the podium

⤷ user you could hear her accent too 😁

charles_leclerc my southern belle ❤️❤️❤️

⤷ yourusername yeehaw 🤠

🗞️ this wasn’t exactly what the original anon asked for but i wanted to write a dcc reader for weeeeeks and the ask finally gave me the change so i tweaked some things 😁😁😁

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diqldrunks · 4 months ago

Text

bad idea, right? — carlos sainz

requests are open! send me anything!! [nav | inbox]

a/n: 1.5k followers is absolute madness!! tysm cuties!! if you have any ideas for a celebration, lmk, bc i have NONE

this is short bc i wrote this in 20 minutes so please ignore any mistakes

summary: some exes are really bad at staying exes

messages

twitter

replies

messages

instagram

yourusername just uploaded a story!

wait why do i lowkey love this so much??

carlos taglist; @awritingtree @lottalove4evelyn @pastrymechanic @littlegrapejuice @lovesickd0ll @waiting-for-motivation @grandesainz

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ln444 · 1 year ago

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★ how does f1 drivers react when you call them pretty. . .

norris, piastri, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russell, verstappen

cw: fluff, slight suggestive (verstappen), f!reader.

now playing: pretty boy by the neighborhood

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✹ lando norris

lando would be the type to act annoyed but absolutely loves it. he just won't admit it but you know it.

"hey, pretty boy", you whisper against his lips, leaving a sweet peck on it just to be met with a pouty and flustered lando. "i told you to stop calling me that!" he whines, but deep down he hopes that you'll never stop. you look at him with a playful smile, softly caressing his hair. "okay, i'll stop if it makes you uncomfortable", you wait impatiently for his reaction and as you excepted, lando start to panic. "i mean... you can but you know... just not in front of other people", he laughs nervously, hoping that his excuse is good and his cheeks start heating up. you can't help but laugh softly, pulling him close by the neck and lando pouts again, "stop making fun of me!", your smile softens and you plant another kiss on his lips, "sorry, you're just too cute, my pretty boy". lando's cheeks are now completely red and he tries to hide it by pulling you in a long and warm kiss, feeling the butterflies going crazy in his stomach.

✹ oscar piastri

oh my god, please don't do this to him. as soon as he hears the word, his brain starts malfunctioning.

"you did so good!", oscar pulls you for a warm hug, holding you as tight as he can. he loves seeing you after races and hearing how proud you are of him no matter what he do. you pull out, staring at him like his eyes holds stars and oscar can't help but feel overwhelmed by all the adoration he sees in your eyes. you put your hand on his cheek, stroking it softly. "i'm so proud of you, my pretty boy" and even though you mean it, a hint of teasing can be heard and oscar groans, pulling you in a new hug to hide his face in your neck "if you call me that again, i think i'm gonna die" he mumbles against your skin. you laughs, one of your hands slides in his messy curls, your fingers playing with it. you will never get over how cute your boyfriend is when you call him pretty.

✹ charles leclerc

he absolutely loves it and won't deny it, even if he gets a bit shy when you call him pretty. he can't control it, his heart gets warm and the butterflies in his stomach goes crazy.

you were getting ready for a cute date and charles was wearing a new shirt, with flowers on it. as soon as he's ready, you lock your arms around his neck and you look at him with a big smile on your face. after planting a sweet peck on his lips, one of your hands cup his cheek. "you're so pretty, baby", your voice is full of adoration and honesty and charles' smiles gets wider. "thank you, chérie", he says softly and he immediately pulls you for a gentle kiss, hoping that you didn't notice the way his cheeks has redden, but you didn't miss it.

✹ carlos sainz

he loves it, like really loves it. he finds it funny tbh. and he won't hesitate to give the word back to you.

"woah, what a pretty boy", you look at him showing you his brand new haircut. he laughs, posing in front of you a little more before joining you on the sofa, pulling you on his lap and placing a kiss on your nose. "got pretty for my pretty girl, we are such a pretty couple", you both giggles before sharing a kiss, laughing and smiling against each other's lips. but, even if he doesn't want to admit it, carlos can feel his heart beating a bit faster and a sweet feeling in his stomach when he hears you call him pretty.

✹ lewis hamilton

he would get so shy, make it seems like he doesn't like it and it annoys him but he can't hide it for long, he always ends up with a big smile on his face and a heart beating faster than it should.

"ahhh, stop it y/n", he whines as you continue to leave kisses all over his face, sitting on his lap. "but, you're so pretty!", you say, cupping his cheeks to look at him in the eyes. he groans, acting annoyed by pulling you out of his lap and you try your best to fight the smile creeping on your lips. you both know that he's just flustered and wants to hide his red cheeks. "come on, baby, let me finish my kisses", he doesn't fight you when you climb back on his lap but he crosses his arms, trying to hold onto his character and you laugh softly, going back to leaving small pecks all over his face. it doesn't take long before he finally smiles, his hands finding your waist to pull you close and kiss you back. he just can't resist you.

✹ george russell

he always tries to ignore the way it makes him feel and act unbothered but he can't fight the way his body warm and a smile instinctively forms on his lips. he just loves getting praised by you.

"baby, can you pass me the knife, please?" you ask, preparing the vegetables and george, who has been helping and watching you cook for an hour now, hand you the knife as fast as he can. you turn to face him, placing your free hand on his neck to pull him close, "thank you, pretty boy", you says softly and he places a kiss on your lips, smiling softly "you're welcome" he says, trying to sound as neutral as he can and you pout, acting disappointed, "what? you don't like when i call you that?", you know that he do. you just want to hear it. he looks at you, a playful smile forms on his lips. "i know what you're doing", he chuckles and pulls you for another kiss. you end up both laughing, george's heart feeling full.

✹ max verstappen

he gets all nervous and doesn't know how to act anymore. like, if you want to make a mess of this man, just call him pretty.

max have been acting flirty all day, enjoying teasing you and seeing you all flustered in front of other people. you tried your best to keep your cool all day, playfully punching him from time to time or just laughing it off. but when you two end up alone at the end of the day, you're finally able to get your revenge. you start making out, getting more and more touchy and needy. "take off your shirt, pretty boy", you whisper in his ear, and max almost startle. a playful smile forms on your lips and you don't even have to look at him to know that his cheeks are now red. after a good minute of no reaction from him, you finally meet his eyes, giving him a confused look. "is everything okay?", you try to hide your teasing tone but max doesn't miss it, a playful grin finally forming on his lips and he chuckles; "naughty girl".

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#f1 x reader #f1 fluff #lando norris x reader #oscar piastri x reader #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz x reader #george russell x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 drabble #f1 fic

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iamred-iamyellow · 8 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Gangsters Wife

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: mafiaboss!carlos sainz x fem!wife!reader

♥ synopsis: things start to change for you and your marriage-of-convenience husband after you stitch up his wounds

♥ one-shot - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing and vague descriptions of smut - p in v (wrap it before you tap it) !!!

♥ a/n: i wrote on my vacation lol. i’m a little nervous to post this since it’s uncharted writing territory for me but i hope you enjoy reading it <3

You sat on the black satin sheets of your bed, waiting for your husband to come back from business. You knew you should probably be asleep; that he wouldn’t want you up worrying for him, but here you were wide awake.

It wasn’t like the two of you married for love, anyway. It was much more out of convenience. His job was… interesting, but you weren’t complaining about the luxury that you now lived in due to the arrangement.

Your breath hitched as you heard the door unlock, assuming it was Carlos. He made his way towards the bedroom and immediately locked eyes with you. His hair was slicked to the side and he had a couple of cuts on his face. He was wearing a red shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, black dress pants, some black shoes, and an expensive watch.

“Go to bed,” he demanded, removing the ticking object from his wrist and laying it down in a drawer with the rest of his collection.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, rustling in the bed sheets.

“I’m alright if that’s what you’re wondering,” he swiped his thumb over the blood on his bottom lip. “Get some rest.”

You slowly stood up and strolled over to him. Your gaze dropped down to the ripped fabric on his side, presumably from a fight.

“Were you stabbed?” you asked in a whisper.

“Lightly.”

“Lightly? What does lightly mean?”

He began unbuttoning his shirt, though it didn’t take long before it was off of him. The moonlight from a small open window illuminated his body, his muscles were strained, covered in sweat, and there was a wound flooded with blood on his abdomen.

“It’s not that deep,” he murmured.

“Literally or figuratively? Because it looks like the knife went in pretty far.” You softly grazed his skin with the light touch of your fingertips.

You walked over to your nightstand and pulled out a small stitch kit.

“Sit down,” you commanded him, nodding towards the edge of the bed.

“I’m fine. I can do this on my own.”

“I said sit. down.”

He took a deep, agitated sigh and did as you told him. You dampened a rag in the bathroom and returned to clean the blood off his wound.

You threaded the needle and pierced it through his skin, beginning the first stitch.

“Are you sure you’re qualified for this?” he asked.

You nodded, “I wouldn’t have married you without knowing how to do this.”

He hummed and your left hand went to his waist to hold him still. He could feel the coldness of the silver wedding ring he gave you only a few months ago.

You finished pulling the last part of the thread and cut the excess off.

“There,” you said, pressing your palm gently against his abs.

He pulled you onto his lap and his hands firmly gripped your thighs. You made a soft sound and ground down onto his belt.

“Tomorrow, amor.” he stopped you and whispered. “Let’s go to bed.”

You woke up first at 7. You had rolled over to find your husband awake, messaging someone on his phone.

“Go back to sleep cariño,” he mumbled, running one of his hands over your hair.

You grabbed his hand and kissed his palm, slowly making your way up his arm.

“Amor,” he warned.

“What? You said tomorrow… it’s tomorrow.”

The next thing you knew he had you pinned down by your neck. His phone rang on the nightstand and he used his free hand to pick it up, still thrusting into you as he did so.

“Leave us alone,” he said and hung up instantly.

Leave. Us. Alone.

You woke up again at 9, this time alone in your bed. You wandered into the kitchen to see your husband making breakfast.

“Carlitos?” you ask, a faint smile teasing your lips. “Where’s the chef?”

“I sent him home.”

“You’ve never cooked for me before,” you took a seat on the barstool at the counter.

“I’ve never cooked for anyone before,” he admitted.

He set some pancakes on a plate and handed it to you.

You hummed, “No syrup?”

He shrugged “I don’t think we have any. I usually eat mine just the dough.”

It was odd having a conversation like this with Carlos. The two of you weren’t used to making small talk.

“Uhm, how do you feel? Are any of your cuts infected?” you asked.

“No, I feel fine,” he said putting cooking supplies away as you ate. “The stitching you did is good but i’ll probably still get my doctor to look at it.”

“Yeah that’s a good idea,” you replied, picking at your food as his phone rang.

He flipped it open to answer a call from an unknown number. From the muffled spanish voice on the other end you assumed it was from Fernando.

“Sí, I’ll be there soon.” Carlos said and hung up the phone.

“I’ll be back,” he told you, walking out the front door without a goodbye.

Your eyes caught the abundance of bodyguards that entered the room to block the exits and entrances. You sighed and slouched, tapping your nails on the marble counter. Great. Just when things were starting to get good.

#𝒍𝒊𝒗'𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 ౨ৎ #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz jr drabble #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz jr fanfic #mafia au #mafia!f1 #mafia!carlos sainz #f1 x you #f1 x reader

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tsunodaradio · 1 month ago

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come find me ⛐ 𝐂𝐒𝟓𝟓

♫ forgive me, peter carlos, please know that i tried to hold on to the days when you were mine.

ꔮ starring: carlos sainz x childhood best friend!reader. ꔮ word count: 4.4k. ꔮ includes: romance, friendship, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort. mentions of food. childhood best friends, right person/wrong time, canon compliant -ish, minor spanish. heavily inspired by taylor swift's peter. ꔮ commentary box: ho is u okay,, @binisainz planted this idea in my head and i had to go full throttle with it. one day we will write happy things (today will not be that day). 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

♫ waiting room, phoebe bridgers. ceilings, lizzy mcalpine. cool about it, boygenius. boy who has everything, annika bennett. car's outside, james arthur.

▸ THE GODDESS OF TIMING ONCE FOUND US BEGUILING. SHE SAID SHE WAS TRYING; CARLOS, WAS SHE LYING? MY RIBS GET THE FEELING SHE DID.

The cake is lopsided.

It doesn’t matter, though. Carlos grins like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. His mother places it on the kitchen counter with a laugh, brushing flour off her apron. The candles wobble precariously as she adjusts them, and you and Carlos press your palms to the table, watching like the fate of the world hinges on whether or not they’ll topple over.

They don’t.

Carlos cheers as if it’s a victory in its own right. He tugs at your wrist until you’re at his side. The kitchen smells of sugar and vanilla, and the late afternoon sun spills through the window, turning the terracotta tiles into a checkerboard of red and black.

His father ruffles his hair, chuckling under his breath. “Blow out the candles, campeón.”

Carlos turns to you, eyes sparkling with that mischievous glint that always means trouble.

“You do it with me,” he insists.

“It’s your birthday,” you argue, but he’s already inching closer, shoulder bumping against yours.

“Please?” he says, and you know then— even at this age— that you’ll never be able to say no to him.

So you do it together, squeezing your eyes shut as you make your wishes. When you open them, the candles are snuffed out, a faint curl of smoke rising toward the ceiling.

His mother claps, and his father nods. They share a knowing look. The kind of knowledge adults carry like a secret; the certainty that some people are just meant to orbit each other.

The goddess of timing must be watching, amused and benevolent, because even the universe can’t help but indulge in this small, perfect moment.

There are murmurs about your friendship. Of course there are. Sainz Jr. had a friend, a next-door neighbor who indulged his every whimsy.

And you had Carlos.

Carlos, who chases your bullies away with sticks from his backyard. Carlos, who hurtles down the street on his bicycle so he can get the two of you the freshest bocadillos. Carlos, who will halve the chances of his birthday wish being fulfilled if it means you get to have a quarter of a wish, too.

Later, after too much cake and games in the garden, you sit beneath the lemon tree. Dirt streaks your legs; frosting sticks to Carlos’ fingers. Your best friend leans his head against your shoulder.

His hair is damp with sweat, chest rising and falling in the slow rhythm of someone perfectly content. He’s only 10— que horror, the dreaded double digit!— but he acts like he already has all the answers in the world.

“I’m going to be a race car driver,” he tells you. As if it’s a prophecy. His God-given right.

You hum, picking at the grass beside you. “I know.”

“You’ll come to all my races?”

“Of course.”

Carlos sighs with satisfaction. “We’ll always be friends,” he promises, prophesies.

You’re too young to know that people change, that you can’t possibly predict the years to come. Right now, with the sun dipping below the rooftops and the sky blushing pink, it feels like forever could be this simple.

After a beat, Carlos pipes up, “What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you,” you snort, “or else it won’t come true.”

“Not fair!” he whines. “It’s my birthday!”

You bicker and roughhouse until Carlos’ mother has to intervene. The question is forgotten when you two are called in for dinner of polbo a feira and tapas.

It’s one of those memories you wish you could keep in a snow globe, forever immortalized. The dining table, the conversation, the company.

The wish you made, buried in your mind like the spare house key under a mat.

I hope Carlos gets everything he wants.

▸ AND SOMETIMES IT GETS ME, WHEN CROSSING YOUR JET STREAM— WE BOTH DID THE BEST WE COULD DO UNDERNEATH THE SAME MOON.

The trophy is heavier than Carlos expected.

His hands ache from gripping the wheel, knuckles still buzzing from the adrenaline of the last lap. All the same, he refuses to put the prize down. He clutches it like proof that the last three years weren’t just a dream; inwardly, he’s scared that letting go might somehow undo the third place finish.

The victory party spills across the hotel’s rooftop, lanterns swaying in the humid breeze. His father shakes hands with team managers. His mother beams at anyone who glances her way.

And Carlos— Carlos searches for you.

You find him first, dodging through the crowd with practiced ease. There’s a scrape on your knee from tripping over a curb in your rush to get to the podium, and your hair is a mess from running down the track, but Carlos doesn’t care.

You look at him like he’s conquered the world, and he feels like maybe he has.

He casts aside the trophy. Suddenly, it’s not as important as what he’s about to hold.

“You did it,” you’re breathing, and he’s reaching out to pull you into a hug. “Cariño, you did it.”

“We did it,” he amends. You laugh like it’s a joke, like Carlos isn’t being a hundred percent sincere.

Nobody bats an eye at the show of affection. You’ve been around since Torneo Industrie. You were there for the podium finishes and the falls from grace.

Carlos Sainz’s best friend. The one who was keeping a promise. The one he sought out after every race, win or lose.

Not just any girl in the crowd, but the girl.

Carlos sways the two of you back and forth, feet shuffling in a clumsy imitation of a slow dance. There’s a live band playing the ballads his parents like, so his effort to keep you close is rather awkward and off-putting.

He’s not about to be called out on it, though. Not when this is his moment, and he’s keen on sharing it with you.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he mumbles into the crown of your head.

“You could have,” you respond firmly, the words spoken into his clothed shoulder. “You would have.”

I don’t want to, he almost says, but he bites the words back. Carlos doesn’t want to need you too much. Doesn’t want to put his career in the palm of your hands.

He pulls back, still gripping your arms like he needs the anchor. The party swirls around you both. A snow globe celebrating him while he reveres you.

“We’ll do this forever,” he says. A shadow of that childhood promise. “You’ll come to all my races.”

You’re older, now. A little wiser. Not so immune to the whispers.

Carlos, who is built for bigger things. And you— the amalgamation, the imposition. El destino.

His destiny, if he were to want it badly enough.

You smile, though it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The moon hangs low in the sky, watching over you both like it knows something you don’t.

“Of course,” you say, pretending it’s still that simple.

▸ YOU SAID YOU WERE GONNA GROW UP, THEN YOU WERE GONNA COME FIND ME... YOU SAID YOU'D COME AND GET ME, BUT YOU WERE TWENTY-FIVE.

You remember what it looked like— the night Carlos made his choice.

The car, idling by the curb, its headlights spilling across the pavement. Carlos, leaning against the gate of your house. His fingers tapped restless patterns on the metal; his sneakers scuffed against the ground.

He looked young. He was young.

Stripped of the helmet and the race suit, he was just a 16-year-old boy with too much of the world ahead of him and not enough words to say what he meant.

“I’ll call you,” he assured, voice breaking the silence. The third time he had said it that night.

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest like you could hold yourself together that way. “I know.”

Carlos let out a breath, rubbing at the back of his neck. His hair was longer, curls falling over his forehead. It didn’t hide the way his eyes flickered with uncertainty.

He was always so sure of himself on the track— confident in every turn, every overtake— but he looked lost now, standing in front of you like he couldn’t figure out how to leave.

“You can still watch the races,” he had tried, the joke falling flat between you. “On TV. It’s almost the same.”

“It’s not the same,” you said, and you inhaled sharply when it came out sounding sharp. You shook your head and tried again. “It’s fine, Carlos. You should go.”

Instead of taking your advice, Carlos had taken a step closer.

His hand twitched like he wanted to reach for you, but he shoved it into his pocket instead. “I don’t want you to think I’m leaving because I want to,” he said, words tumbling out too fast. “I have to do this. I just... I need to try. But I’ll come back.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” He swayed on his feet, desperate to make you believe him. “I’ll get it out of my system, and then I’ll come back.”

The way he said it— like racing was a fever that needed to break, like the only cure was time and distance— made your chest ache. You’d never seen him without racing, couldn’t imagine a version of Carlos that wasn’t chasing speed like he was scared of what might catch him if he slowed down.

“How long?” you whispered.

Carlos opened his mouth. Closed it again.

The truth is, he didn’t know. It could be years. It could be forever.

But he had looked at you like he wanted it to be tomorrow.

“Just wait for me,” he begged, voice barely above a whisper, “please.”

As a teenager, you had not thought it to be cruel. It was simply a parting remark, a best friend’s desperate plea. When you nodded and let Carlos plant a kiss to your forehead— as if sealing the deal— you didn’t expect it to feel a lot like a death sentence.

It’s been nine years since.

Carlos slips in and out of your life like Spanish summers. He’ll spend a week or two of off-season in Madrid, soaking up as much of you as he can. Every year, there is something new to report.

A co-driver he dislikes. A team trying to poach him. An entire life where you are a footnote— a ‘best friend’ back home.

This time around, he is 25 and gearing up to join McLaren. He had texted you about it when he first got the news.

The papaya team, you said good-naturedly, and he responded with a selfie with his curly-haired co-driver.

I told him all about you, Carlos said. You were not sure whether to feel grateful or heartbroken.

Tonight, the dinner plates have been pushed to the side, remnants of your meal forgotten in favor of stretching the night out just a little longer. Your best friend sits across from you, elbow on the table, chin propped in his hand.

The kitchen of his family home is quiet, save for the faint hum of the fridge and the ticking of the wall clock. His parents have given you some privacy. Even now, they are still rooting for what they think is the soft epilogue you both deserve.

Carlos’ eyes soften as you top his glass. The same warm brown as when he was fourteen and winning his first championship, as when he was sixteen and making promises he couldn’t follow up on.

You tilt your glass of wine, watching the way the liquid catches the light. “So,” you start, voice steady, “have you gotten it out of your system yet?”

You can see the guilt settle over him, the way his shoulders tense and his gaze drops to the table. He scratches at the wood grain with his thumb, jaw tight.

“I’m close,” he says, and you hate how desperate he sounds to convince you. “Just a few more years.”

“A few more years,” you repeat, like you can make the words sound like less than what they are. You nod, pretending not to notice the tremor in his voice.

You lift your gaze, studying him. The sharper angles of his face, the subtle lines that years of racing and travel have carved into his skin.

The way he looks at you— that hasn’t changed.

“I will come back,” he promises, leaning in, eyes wide and earnest. “I swear, I just—”

“Carlos.” You reach across the table, fingers curling around his hand.

You squeeze his hand, trying to memorize the shape of him, the feel of his skin against yours. And then, slowly, you stand, tugging him to his feet with you as you move around the table.

He follows you instinctively, like he always has.

You’re the one who finally, finally does it. In the dim light of this kitchen that has witnessed everything, you kiss him.

It’s soft and lingering, a slow unraveling of years of almosts and maybes. Carlos doesn’t hesitate; he melts into it, hands coming up to cradle your face.

He kisses you like he’s trying to make up for every goodbye, every missed birthday, every time he said he’d come back and didn’t.

He tastes like the wine you’d been drinking, like everything you want but can’t have.

You pull away and briefly rest your forehead against his, fingers brushing through his hair. Carlos chases your lips, but you step back.

“You don’t have to come back for me,” you exhale, voice breaking on the words. “Just come back when you’re ready.”

Carlos stares at you, eyes glassy, chest rising and falling like he’s about to argue.

He doesn’t. He’s never raised his voice at you. He was not about to start tonight.

You slip away, the same way that summer might end on an unassuming September afternoon.

And so this must be what winter feels like, Carlos thinks as he watches you go.

▸ ARE YOU STILL A MIND-READER, A NATURAL SCENE STEALER? I'VE HEARD GREAT THINGS, CARLOS, BUT LIFE WAS ALWAYS EASIER ON YOU THAN IT WAS ON ME.

You find out the way everyone else does.

The announcement is plastered across every sports site you frequent, and someone in the office even mentions it in passing like it's a casual thing. For them, it is.

For you, it's something else entirely.

Carlos Sainz signs with Ferrari, replacing Sebastian Vettel.

The sting isn't sharp, but it lingers. A dull ache of realization.

You used to be the first to know these things. You used to get the late-night texts, the excited voice messages, the hastily snapped photos of team gear before anything was official. Now, you're like everybody else, learning about Carlos’ life through headlines and curated press releases.

You wonder, briefly, if it's the kiss that ruined things. You haven’t exactly stopped talking, but the texts are infrequent now. The check-ins, more obligatory than organic.

Still, you swallow the feeling and shoot him a message. Not because you have to, but because there isn’t a world where you wouldn’t give Carlos Sainz the flowers he deserves.

Congratulations, mi campeón, you text him. Ferrari red suits you.

Your phone rings in the next five minutes, your screen lighting up with a childhood photo of you and Carlos.

“I was waiting for you to text,” he says, voice laced with relief. “I wanted to tell you myself, I swear. I just... Things happened so fast.”

You close your eyes, resting your forehead against your hand. You realize that you don’t know where he is. Maranello? Monaco?

In the house right next doors to yours— back home, where you once thought he belonged?

You want to let him explain, want to listen to every single word, but your boss shouts your name from across the room. You’re reminded of your place. These white walls and linoleum floors; cubicles and desk set-ups that Carlos never would have settled for.

“Lo siento, cariño,” you say hurriedly. “I’m at work. I have to go, but— I mean it. Congratulations. I am happy for you.”

It’s small, almost negligible. The emphasis you choose to put on the word ‘am’. I am happy for you, you’re saying, as if you’re still trying to convince yourself of the fact.

Carlos, on the other end of the line, exhales heavily.

He doesn’t say he will call later tonight when you’re free. The two of you are no longer in the business of getting each other’s hopes up.

“Thank you,” he says, the platitude sounding heavier than it should.

You end the call and shove the phone into your desk drawer, hopeful that it will keep you from doing something stupid like reading up on Ferrari or texting Carlos a dozen apologies.

The ache lingers.

It always does.

▸ I WON'T CONFESS THAT I WAITED, BUT I LET THE LAMP BURN. AS THE MEN MASQUERADED, I HOPED YOU'D RETURN.

Carlos shows up at your doorstep like he doesn’t know where else to go.

You don’t have to check your phone to know why he’s here. You step aside wordlessly, letting him into the familiar warmth of your home. He exhales, as if stepping over the threshold takes something out of him.

Maybe it does. Maybe this is the last place he can let himself be like this— untethered from the world that has just tossed him aside.

For a long time, neither of you speak. He lingers in your living room, shoulders hunched as he stares at the floor. Carlos doesn’t have to know, but the laptop in your bedroom bears dozens of articles, like you were a crime scene detective trying to make sense of all the details.

Lewis Hamilton to replace Carlos Sainz at Ferrari for the 2025 season.

It had felt like a punch to the gut just reading it. You can’t even imagine what it must’ve felt like to be him.

“Carlos,” you begin, but he’s already shaking his head, a wry smile playing at his lips.

All these years between the two of you— despite most of it being spent apart— makes you a language that Carlos is fluent in. He knows. Knows that you were about to offer some comfort, some reassurance, some platitude.

He shifts on your couch. Your knees bump against each other.

“Maybe this is it,” he murmurs. “Maybe this is the end of the road for me.”

Then, softer, like he’s telling himself as much as he’s telling you, “Maybe after this season, I’ll finally fulfill what I’ve always promised you.”

You hate that your heart leaps. Hate that for a second— one fragile, selfish second— you wonder if this is the universe finally setting things right.

This is the universe course-correcting, is it not? The years, and the distance, and the missed calls were all just detours leading him back here.

But that’s not how it works.

Not for him. Not for you.

This is not fate. It’s heartbreak.

And you would never let Carlos Sainz’s heart break, if you could do anything about it.

“Carlos,” you say again, firmer this time.

He looks up at you. You recognize the glint in his eyes. The part of him that’s already bracing for the fight. Ready to convince you, to convince himself, that this— this is the checkered flag, the final lap.

You don’t let him.

“This— racing— it’s who you are. You can’t give that up,” you say earnestly, the words for me hanging in the air between you.

Carlos laughs. It sounds more like a sob. “I’ve already given up so much for it,” he says wretchedly. “And still, it’s never enough.”

You swallow the lump in your throat and shift closer, reaching out to rest your hand over his. He doesn’t pull away.

“If this is the end of the road,” you say softly, “then walk it all the way to the finish. Don’t let them decide when it’s over.”

Carlos fixes you with his gaze, his eyes dark and unreadable. After all this time, he still looks to you like you have all the answers.

Like you are the answer.

After an eternity, he sighs and nods once.

For the rest of the night, you don’t talk about racing. You let him linger in the safety of your home, the two of you orbiting around each other like you always have. Two people bound by a history neither of you can seem to let go of.

You exchange stories. You watch reruns of some old telenovela.

You keep your hands off each other, because you don’t want this moment to be a Band-Aid on a bullet wound. You respect each other too much to settle for that.

When Carlos falls asleep on your couch, you quietly drape a blanket over him and let the lamp burn through the night.

Just in case he wakes up and needs to find his way back to you.

▸ WITH YOUR FEET ON THE GROUND, TELL ME ALL THAT YOU'D LEARNED 'CAUSE LOVE'S NEVER LOST WHEN PERSPECTIVE IS EARNED.

Carlos turns thirty with a new team, a new beginning, and a birthday party that feels like it was always meant to end here.

The Sainz family home buzzes with celebration— laughter spilling through the rooms, wine glasses clinking, plates scraping against each other as people help themselves to seconds. The scent of his mother’s cooking lingers, grounding everything in a familiarity Carlos hadn’t realized he missed this much.

And then there’s you.

Carlos stands by the cake, the glow of the candles flickering across his face, and he’s not looking at anyone else.

“Come blow the candle with me,” he says, holding out his hand.

You blink, caught off guard. A couple of snickers ripple through the room. Not everybody is privy to the lore, but they don’t really have to be. They all know how much you mean to Carlos.

“It’s your birthday,” you say. The same thing you’d said two decades ago.

His grin is boyish, teasing. “I’m thirty. I need the help.”

His mother hides her smile behind her mug. His father shakes his head, mumbles something like estos dos as déjà vu hits like a truck.

The room is full of people certain the two of you belonged to each other long before you ever understood what that meant.

You step beside him. Carlos counts down under his breath, his hand resting over the small of your back.

The flame is extinguished. Another bottle of champagne is popped. You have some vague memory of the wish you made the first time this happened, but you can’t say for sure if it has come true.

The party stretches into the night, but Carlos stays close, his shoulder brushing against yours every time he moves. He doesn’t say much— doesn’t have to. It’s enough to just be here for once.

When the crowd thins out, he grabs his jacket without question, ready to walk you home like he always used to.

The streets of Madrid are quieter than they should be, as if the city is holding space for the two of you. The stars are bright, scattered across the sky like promises.

Carlos shoves his hands into his coat pockets, scuffing his shoe against the pavement. “What did you wish for?”

You exhale a soft laugh. “You can’t ask that.”

“I can.” He glances at you, half a smile tugging at his mouth. “I’m thirty now. I’ve earned the right to know.”

You don’t answer immediately. You watch him instead— the way he looks at peace, even with the weight of starting over. His new Williams contract is a fresh start, a lease on life he almost lost.

He’s not done racing. Not yet. But he’s here, he’s here, and you want so badly for that be enough.

You stop walking. Carlos notices a beat later, turning to face you. His eyes are careful, searching.

“Racing is never going to be out of your system,” you say, as if it’s a fact of life. The sky is blue, the sun is warm, and Carlos Sainz will chase the thrill of a podium until his final breath.

Carlos winces, looking almost guilty as he responds, “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.” You cut him off gently. You’re both now, and you understand that it is not simple. It never was. But that does not mean it is worth anything less.

“I’m glad you didn’t quit,” you add, just to make things clear.

Carlos steps closer. “I would’ve come back for you,” he says, voice rough with sincerity. “I think— I think I will always come back to you.”

You smile up at him. It’s bittersweet and small, but it’s all his. All for him.

He lifts a hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “You never told me what you wished for,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ll tell you mine,” you say as you lean into him, chest aching with something that feels like forgiveness— for him, for yourself, for all the years you lost trying to outrun what was always inevitable, “if you tell me yours.”

Carlos doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he leans in to kiss you like he’s been holding the promise of it for years. A quiet, patient kind of love finally breaking the surface.

It tastes like every birthday cake you ever shared, every race you ever watched, every almost that never quite unraveled into more.

This, he saying as he kisses away all the versions of love that didn’t quite fit before, is what I wished for.

Somewhere in the universe, the goddess of timing breathes a sigh of relief. She had never lied.

Te tomó bastante tiempo, she whispers through the breeze in your hair, through the constellation in the sky, through the flower that takes root over the spot you shared a kiss.

It took you long enough. ⛐

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fic #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 drabble #f1 x you #carlos sainz angst #f1 angst #f1 imagines #⛐ kae prix #⛐ cs55 #this got so long that i ended up having to make a proper graphic for it #but i got too attached to the original collage so it's at the very end LOL #OH THIS WAS SOOOO FUN !!#carlos my shayla...

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fastandcarlos · 5 months ago

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Save The Day : ̗̀➛ Carlos Sainz

summary: your shopping trip couldn't have gotten much worse, until a stranger approaches and swoops in to save the day

“Excuse me, is everything alright? You look in need of some help.”

Your eyes flickered up at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, noticing a man stood just beside you. You were walking all over the place as you tried to push your daughter’s pram, balancing your shopping bags in both of your hands, barely able to walk in a straight line as things stopped to drop out onto the floor.

You smiled shyly across at the man as he picked the bits that you had dropped off of the floor. Once he’d put them in a bag he took the bags from both of your hands, walking by your side. Walking immediately felt easier as you focused on pushing the pram out of the store and over to where your car was parked.

The man carried your bags with ease, the strength easily defined in his arms as he walked at your pace. You didn’t quite know where to look as you walked, feeling his eyes watching over you.

“Where’s your car?” He asked you, watching you point to your small car that was hidden by a much fancier looking vehicle, a car far too expensive for the area where you lived.

There was a shade of embarrassment in your cheeks as you walked, feeling slightly humiliated that you weren’t able to carry your bags. Trying to balance all the weight was hard, but you were stubborn, and liked to think that you could take on the world all by yourself.

“I’m just here,” you told him, reaching into your bag for your keys.

You opened up the boot, going to take the bags, only for the man to swerve you. “Allow me,” he grinned, easily lifting the bags and placing them in the back of your car.

You stepped back as he did so, watching as he carefully let go of them. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that for me, most people just walk straight on by.”

“Well, I’m not most people,” he told you, a wide smile on his face. “Most people are assholes, it’s human nature to help someone when you see them struggling, or in my eyes at least.”

You offered him a grin as you unbuckled your daughter’s pram to start getting her into the car. “Saying thank you doesn’t really feel like enough, there’s got to be something that I can do for you.”

His head shook, taking a step back and watching as you took your daughter into your arms, hearing her let go of a squirm. You hated taking her out when she was asleep, but at this point you couldn’t wait to get home and forget about your struggle.

“She’s beautiful,” the man whispered behind you, leaning across and tickling against her tummy, bringing a smile to her face again. “I bet your mummy and daddy feel like they won the lottery with you,” he added, only to watch your smile drop, eyes landing on the ground.

“I-it’s just me,” you stuttered, immediately hearing the man mumble several apologies beside you. “Don’t be sorry, I’m used to it by now. Most of the time I’m alright, the two of us make quite the team,” you smiled, not wanting him to feel bad for you.

It didn’t stop the man feeling guilty for making his assumptions, sensing that you found things harder than you were letting on to him.

As the two of you fell silent, your daughter soon began to get quite unsettled in your hold. You quickly tried to settle her, bouncing her in your arms, but as a gust of wind blew through the car park, your eyes soon darted onto the sight of her pram beginning to blow away from you.

“I got it!” The man shouted, running down the car park and quickly grabbing onto it.

“You really are saving the day for me today, aren’t you?” You smiled.

He looked around and found the brakes of the pram, quickly putting them on. Before you knew it, he had managed to collapse it down, placing it into the back of your car too, making sure not to squash any of your shopping.

“You must have had some practice doing that before.”

“No,” he smiled back across at you, “but I assumed it can’t be too hard to figure out. I’ve not really got any experiences with babies, although I’d like to,” he carried on, surprising himself that he suddenly decided to confess such a thing to someone that he barely knew.

You didn’t quite know what to say as he spoke, offering him a sympathetic smile. You weren’t expecting him to be so open with you, leaving you a little loss for words. You almost felt bad for standing in front of him with your daughter in your arms, as if you were showing off that you had something that he seemed to want.

“Does your partner not want children?”

His eyes widened at your question, unaware that you had dropped yourself in it almost as much as he had done with you only a few moments earlier, feeling bad when his head shook at you.

“I don’t have a partner,” he told you, scratching nervously over the top of his head. “I’m going through life on my own currently, that’s why I have so much time to help other people when they’re in a mess.”

“Well, you definitely saved me from one today.”

He was glad to have been able to help you out, but now he found himself unable to take his eyes off of your daughter. There was something about him that seemed to be drawing her to him too, her eyes watching him closely every time he moved or spoke.

“I didn’t even get the chance to introduce myself, I’m Carlos by the way.”

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled back across at him.

“And who’s your little one?” He asked, poking your daughter’s tummy again.

A giggle came from her that left you both grinning. “This is Luna,” you told him, “although I think you might be able to call her your biggest fan judging from the smile on her face.”

“Well, I like to keep my fans happy, so do you think Luna would like to hang out again sometime?” Carlos offered, “I mean, only if that’s something that her mummy would like to do too.”

“I think she would,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, “and I don’t think her mummy would mind either if she got the chance to see you again, maybe coffee sometime?”

Carlos nodded in reply to your offer. “I’d love to grab a coffee with you, well, the both of you. How about I give you my number and you can let me know a time that works best for the two of you?”

“Yeah, that would be good,” you told him, walking across to place your daughter into her car seat so that you could take Carlos’ phone from him.

His smile was wide as he passed it across, “make sure you text yourself from my phone so you have my number too. You can save my number as the guy who saved the day.”

“You’re a bit of a hero, aren’t you?” You smiled.

“Well, I certainly try my best.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

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pucksandpower · 4 months ago

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The World Can Wait

Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: no matter whether he’s wearing Ferrari red or Williams blue, standing on the top step of podiums or fighting for points, you’ll love Carlos through it all

The podium is eerily quiet now. The lights are dimmed, the bright flashes of cameras long gone, and the chaotic hum of celebration has faded into nothing. The night wraps itself around the circuit like a heavy blanket, but Carlos is still there. Sitting cross-legged on the podium, the silver P2 trophy rests beside him, untouched.

You find him like this after weaving through the empty paddock, the distant sounds of dismantling garages growing fainter as you near him. At first, you’re hesitant. You stop at the base of the podium steps, watching him from the shadows.

His head is tilted back, eyes fixed on the sky, though you doubt he’s really looking at anything. The set of his shoulders is tight, his elbows resting on his knees. He doesn’t notice you.

“Carlos,” you say softly, almost unsure if you should disturb him.

He doesn’t startle. Instead, his gaze drops, and he looks at you. There’s something hollow in his expression, a weariness that no trophy can mask. He doesn’t say anything, just gestures faintly with his hand for you to come up.

You climb the steps slowly, the sound of your shoes against the metal breaking the heavy silence. When you reach him, you hesitate again, standing just a few feet away.

“Are you okay?” You ask, careful, your voice low.

He exhales sharply, almost a laugh but not quite. “Am I okay?” He repeats, shaking his head. He leans forward, running both hands through his hair. “I don’t know, cariño. I don’t think I know how to answer that.”

You lower yourself down beside him, close enough that your knees brush. The chill of the night air seeps into your skin, but you ignore it, your eyes fixed on him. “Talk to me,” you urge gently. “What’s going on in your head?”

He doesn’t respond right away. For a while, the only sound is the distant murmur of the city beyond the circuit. Then he sighs, deep and heavy, as if it’s been trapped inside him all night.

“I’m just ... taking it all in,” he says finally, his voice quiet, almost broken. “I don’t know if I’ll ever stand up here again.”

The weight of his words sinks into your chest. You reach out, your hand brushing against his arm. “Carlos, don’t say that. You don’t know that.”

“But I don’t know that I will, either,” he counters, turning to look at you. His dark eyes are glassy under the dim lights, his jaw tight. “It’s Williams next year. Williams. You know what everyone is saying. You know what they expect.”

“Forget what they expect,” you insist. “This isn’t the end for you. It’s just-”

“-a step back?” He interrupts, his tone bitter. He shakes his head again, lips pressing into a hard line. “That’s what they all say, isn’t it? That it’s a ‘rebuilding year,’ a ‘fresh start.’” His voice drops, softer now but no less anguished. “But what if it’s not? What if this really is the end? What if I’ve peaked, and it’s all downhill from here?”

Your heart twists at the vulnerability in his voice. You don’t know how long he’s been holding this in, how long he’s been carrying this fear. “Carlos-”

“Do you know what I thought, standing on that podium tonight?” He cuts you off, his voice thick. He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “I thought, ‘This is it. This is the last time.’ I smiled, I waved, but inside I was just ... empty.”

His voice breaks on the last word, and he swallows hard, looking away from you. But you can see it — his hands trembling slightly, his chest rising and falling unevenly.

You don’t think. You just move. You reach for him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him into you. He doesn’t resist. His head drops against your chest, and that’s when it happens. The tears come fast, silent at first, then with a shuddering breath that rips through him.

“It’s okay,” you murmur, your hand threading through his hair. “Let it out, baby. I’ve got you.”

He clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear, his arms wrapping around your waist. His tears soak through your shirt, but you don’t care. You press your cheek to the top of his head, rocking him gently. “Even if you never stand on another podium,” you whisper, your voice steady, “it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t make you any less. It doesn’t make me love you any less.”

He stiffens slightly at your words, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes are red, his face streaked with tears. “You say that now,” he says, his voice cracking. “But what if I can’t give you the life you deserve? What if I can’t be-”

“Stop,” you cut him off firmly, your hands cradling his face. “Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare say you’re not enough for me. Carlos, you are everything. Do you hear me? Everything.”

His eyes search yours desperately, as if looking for something to hold onto. “Promise me,” he whispers. “Promise me you’ll still feel that way, even if ... even if everything goes wrong.”

“I promise,” you say without hesitation, your voice trembling with the weight of it. “On my life. I promise.”

He closes his eyes, a fresh tear slipping down his cheek. You wipe it away with your thumb, your fingers lingering against his skin. Then, slowly, you lean in, your lips brushing against his in a soft, lingering kiss.

When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours, his breathing still uneven but steadier now. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

“Yes, you do,” you counter, your hands slipping down to rest on his shoulders. “And if you can’t believe that right now, then believe this: I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

He doesn’t respond with words this time. Instead, he pulls you back into his arms, holding you like you’re the only thing anchoring him to the world. And maybe, for now, that’s exactly what you are.

The night stretches on, the podium still and silent around you. But neither of you moves. The world can wait.

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23victoria · 2 months ago

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big boy ;)

ꨄ༊*·˚ pairings: f1 drivers x fem!reader

₊✩°｡⋆ authors note: just a quick drabble based of a video i saw i lost the link though :/

ꨄ༊*·˚ synopsis: you saw a cute video of a girlfriend asking her boyfriend to pick her up by one up and bicep curl her so you ask your man to do it too you!! gets a bit steamy at the end! also no specified driver!

₊✩°｡⋆ 𝔀𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓪 𝓫𝓮 𝓪𝓹𝓪��𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓶𝔂 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽?! CLICK HERE!

ꨄ༊*·˚ F1 MASTERLIST

You walk up to your boyfriend with your phone in hand, the mischievous glint in your eyes already setting the tone. "Babe, I want to try this challenge with you," you say, pulling up the video and showing it to him.

He watches for a few seconds, then bursts out laughing. "Baby, this will be easy," he says confidently, puffing out his chest like he’s already won a championship.

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "If you say so."

He narrows his eyes at you. "Wait—you don’t believe in me?"

You just shrug, feigning indifference, which only fuels his competitive spirit. "Okay, okay, then," he says, rolling his shoulders as if he’s preparing for battle. "Set up that phone and start recording. You’re about to witness greatness."

You do as he says, hitting record before lying down on the floor in position. As soon as he grips your waist, he lifts you so effortlessly and quickly that you let out a startled yelp.

"Hah! You were doubting me, huh?" he teases, his grin wide as he peppers kisses all over your face.

You squeak, squirming in his grasp. "Ahh—okay, put me down! You’re going too fast—I’m gonna fall!"

He shakes his head stubbornly, holding you even tighter. "I’d never let you fall, baby," he assures you before smoothly adjusting his hold so your arms wrap around his neck and your legs go around his waist.

You blink, slightly breathless at how strong he is. He chuckles, his grip firm but still playful. "That’s what you get for doubting me," he says, his voice laced with amusement.

You smirk, leaning in to press a few pecks on his chin, then his lips. "I never doubted you, my love," you murmur. "I just wanted to get under your skin a little."

His smirk grows as he tilts his head slightly. "Oh yeah?" His hands shift slightly on your thighs, gripping just a little tighter. "Well, now I’m about to be in you."

Your eyes widen as you gasp, heat rushing to your face. "W-what?"

His smirk deepens. "I’ve never had you against the wall before, have I?" His tone is low, teasing, but there’s a dangerous promise in his words.

You stutter, your mind short-circuiting. "N-no... I-I—"

"Oh, babe," he murmurs, pressing you back against the nearest surface with ease, his lips brushing against your jaw. "That’s about to change."

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vinvantae · 1 year ago

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How the current F1 grid acts after going from your friend to lover

Some sections inspired by prompts from @me-writes-prompts

Some are longer than others just depending on how inspired I was, not playing favourites I swear!

Some are angsty, some are fluffy. Some are a lil sexy but they’re all basically just different post friends-to-lovers scenarios. Enjoy!

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#1 Max Verstappen

He relishes in your warm touch against his skin, but he was still so unfamiliar when it happened in front of his friends - even the soft press of your lips against his cheek had his cheeks turning the darkest shade of pink, his next words coming out as stammers. He would be annoyed by the way his friends - your friends - teased him about it but after years of pining - he was just glad he finally got to call you his, your soft giggles filling his ears as he proudly admitted that he was, in fact, a massive simp.

“You’re cute.” You whisper in his ear, laughing when somehow his cheeks darkened even more.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#2 Logan Sargeant

You could see Logan watching you out of the corner of your eye as the two of you made lunch - you couldn’t help the smile that tugged your mouth. “You’re staring, Logan.” His cheeks flushed, but he approaches you nonetheless - his eyes sparkling. “Can…” He took a deep breath. “May… May I kiss you? Please.” A soft hum left your lips as you looped your arms over his shoulders, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t have to ask… I’m yours.”

He ducked his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to saying that.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#3 Daniel Ricciardo

The moment the two of you locked eyes, you burst into laughter - tears rolling down your cheeks as you lent into his hold, his cackles bouncing off of the walls as the people around you exchanged looks. “Did I say something funny?” You tried to explain but you couldn’t get a full sentence out without your own giggles cutting you off.

“Are you guys crazy or what?” Daniel managed to calm his laughter just for a moment - his brown eyes sparkling as he looked at you, his smile morphing from one of humour to one of fondness as you tried to calm yourself, wiping away a tear. Crazy in love, maybe.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#4 Lando Norris

You were rudely awoken by a repeated clacking against your window - none other than Lando stood down on the ground, smiling up at you when you finally opened up the glass to look down. “What on earth are you doing?” You laughed. “You’re my boyfriend now, we don’t need to sneak around anymore.”

When you let him into your place, his hands were immediately on your hips - pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “I miss sneaking around.” He hummed, somehow hauling you even closer. “But I do have to admit… this is better. Showing off to everyone that you’re mine.”

“Yours, huh?” You purr. “Should make me scream loud enough that my neighbours know too.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#10 Pierre Gasly

Your breath catches in your throat as he presses you into the wall - his arms caged either side of your head as the music thumps loud in your ears. The smirk that toys on his lips has your heart pounding in your chest. He pressed his body against yours - the months of pining after you were finally over and he had you exactly where he wanted you. “I know exactly what you’re thinking…”

“Oh? You do?” You tease, letting your hands run up his chest. “And what are you gonna do about that, mon amour?”

His chuckle was dark, a thrill zipped up your spine - and as his eyes locked against yours, you knew you were in for a wild night.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#14 Fernando Alonso

You couldn’t wrap your head around how often his hands were on you - before it was always just a ghostly hand on the small of your back or a gentle hand on your shoulder but now? He’d haul you onto your lap whenever he got the chance, his large hands finding purchase on your waist. Or he’d sweep you into a kiss in front of large crowds, not caring who was watching - and you couldn’t get enough.

“Nando, if I knew you were going to be like this… I would’ve confessed my feelings for you a whole lot sooner” You laughed, as he had practically run away from his PR agent to sweep you up into a massive hug.

“I don’t know how I managed to keep my hands to myself for all of those years, I’m just glad I don’t have to hold back anymore.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#16 Charles Leclerc

As his arms slipped around your middle, chin coming to rest on your shoulder - you felt content. After years of mutual pining, his touch felt more natural than ever. The two of you had always been close and the transitions from friends to lovers was so natural, his touches became more intentional, his hugs lasted longer - his hands lower. You turned in his hold so you could brush your lips together in a longing kiss, his stubbled cheeks in your hands. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, mon chou.” He hummed. “But unlike all the other times? I can show you just how much.” Your laughter was as light as air as he scooped you up into his arms to whisk you to the confines of your bedroom.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#18 Lance Stroll

Things were still new, fresh, so you decided to keep the nature of your blossoming relationship between the two of you private. But that didn’t stop you from stealing glances at each other across the garage whenever you could, struggling to hold back the smiles. He was brought back down to earth when an engineer nudged a shoulder against his- turning to be met with a teasing, raised brow.

“So, you two..?”

“We’re friends.”

“Just friends?”

He let his gaze fall back to you, unable to help the smile on his face as you gave him a knowing look.

“Yeah, just friends.”

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#20 Kevin Magnussen

Kevin wasn’t huge on PDA, sure - he was more than happy to hold your hand, but for the most part he kept his hands to himself, especially at work. But when it got busy, sardines packed into a small office space for some last minute announcement - he’d always find his way to your side, arm brushed right up against yours. As Ayao addressed the room, he leant in - his voice a whisper. “Fancy a distraction?”

“Depends what you have in mind, Kev.” You whispered back, eyes forward - trying your best to pay attention, but your cheeks instantly heated up as his hand ghosts over your rear.

“You have no idea, søde.”

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#22 Yuki Tsunoda

You’d fallen asleep on Yuki before - he used to freeze up, determined not to move an inch in order not to wake you. But this time, with your head on his chest - hand splayed across his shirt, he simply pulled the blanket off of the back of the sofa and laid it across you both.

He smiled softly as you grumbled and snuggled in closer, allowing him to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and close his own eyes - just enjoying the weight and warmth of your body on top of his.

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#23 Alex Albon

It was surprisingly warm as the two of you laid on a picnic blanket under the stars, your head rested on his chest - a strong arm tucked underneath you. This was the first real time you’d spent together alone since you’d both finally admitted your feelings and it felt so right. You let your eyes flicker across the stars, a soft gasp passing your lips as you witnessed a shooting star.

“I don’t think Greggs is open this late.”

“How on earth did you know I wished for a sausage roll?”

He chuckled softly. “I know you better than anyone else.”

“Do you though?”

His gaze flickered down to you as you propped your chin up on his chest to look up at him, the smile on his face fond. “Of course I do.”

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#24 Zhou Guanyu

“Open up.”

You opened your mouth, allowing his hand to guide the spoon between your lips - hand cupped beneath your chin to catch any potential dribbles. He watched with eager eyes as you swallowed, the flavours washing over your chin. “Oh my god, that’s delicious.”

“And to think, you doubted me.”

With a playful roll of the eyes, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve never cooked anything more than instant ramen in my presence. How was I supposed to know?”

“Cooking is my love language, so get used to it… gonna make sure you’re never hungry.”

“Oh, a boyfriend who’s my own personal chef? I am lucky.”

He grinned at that.

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#31 Esteban Ocon

You wobbled as you fished through the piles of jackets on the bed, trying to fish out your jacket as Esteban leant against the doorframe with a playful smile on his face. “You should just stay here, mon ange.”

A soft whine left your lips. “Estie, I shouldn’t.”

He approached you, his hands wrapping around your middle - pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay. I insist… it’s cold out, I’ll keep you warm.”

After a moment of protest, you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#44 Lewis Hamilton

Although you were more than friends, you were still yet to let him put a label on it. Too scared that saying you were more than just two people screwing, would open yourself up to heartbreak.

But it was different this time, his eyes full of want as his fingers brushed across the skin of your jaw. You wanted to be his, you lent in to kiss him but his grip on your face stopped you, a smirk tugging on his lips. “Lew, please.”

“You know exactly what I want, sweetheart.” He whispered, lips brushing lightly over yours. “I need you to say it. I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours, Lewis. Always… Now, kiss me.”

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#55 Carlos Sainz

It was crowded and loud, shoulders bumping against yours - throat burning from having to shout loud enough for anyone to hear you. You swirled your drink in your glass, chin propped up on your hand as you lent against the bar. Carlos could see the scowl on your face from across the room, so he politely excused himself from his friends to approach you.

“Mi vida.” Somehow you managed to hear his low purr over the music. “You look bored.”

You looked up to him, his brown eyes boring into yours. “So bored.”

He chuckled softly, pressing a deep kiss to your lips - stealing your breath. “We should definitely get out of here? Don’t you think so?”

It was almost comical how fast you nodded, letting him haul you out of the club.

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#63 George Russell

“Stop walking away from me!” He practically yelled, halting you in your tracks - you turned to face him, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You’re my best friend, I just.. I just can’t lose you.”

You scowled. “God, I hate that word.”

“Lose?”

“Friend.” You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “George, we’re not just friends, we’ve not been just friends for a long time…”

He stepped closer, taking your hands away from your face - linking your fingers together by your side. “I know, this is all just so new to me. I care about you endlessly… I want this, us, to work.”

You smiled softly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. “We’ll take it one day at a time, okay?”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#77 Valtteri Bottas

“You look tired.”

You looked up from your coffee as Valtteri stepped into the room - his mullet messy from sleep as he stepped around the kitchen counter to give you a kiss. The two of you had been roommates for two years, but had recently found yourselves falling comfortably in a relationship - his bedroom long since abandoned.

“I did not know you had the ability to snore that loud, Val.”

He let out a snort of a chuckle. “Well, it wasn’t like I knew that you sleep with a hundred stuffed animals either.”

You giggled, placing your mug on the counter so you could pull him closer. “You wanna go back to your own room?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

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#81 Oscar Piastri

“This was a terrible idea.”

Oscar laughed as he stood just ahead of you on the ice - you were holding onto the railing for dear life as you shuffled your skates towards him. He rolled his eyes and effortlessly skated over. “You’ll never get better if you don’t let go. I won’t let you fall.”

With a huff you finally relinquished your grip and made an attempt to skate, for a moment - it feels like you have it, but a second later you’re crashing face first into Oscar’s chest - the two of you falling back onto the ice.

“Oh my god, Osc. I’m so sorry!” You squeaked. “You okay?”

“I got you flowers for our first date and you gave me a concussion, that doesn’t seem like a fair deal.” He teased. “A kiss would make it better.”

With a playful roll of the eyes you lent down to kiss him - definitely a first date to remember.

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A lil bit of everything for everyone! Hope you enjoyed x

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thef1diary · 3 months ago

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teamprincipal!carlos fingering you after he heard you say bad things about yourself after a race and making you praise yourself 😵‍💫😵‍💫

— good god nonnie 🥵 he will never let anyone speak badly about his driver. 18+ content below

The door to Carlos’ office slammed shut behind you, the tension in the air thick enough to suffocate. You paced the room, tugging at the sleeves of your race suit, anger and self-loathing swirling in your chest. The race had been a disaster—or so you thought—and the words spilled from your lips before you could stop them.

“I’m so fucking useless,” you muttered, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “I’m a goddamn joke out there—”

“What did you just say?”

Carlos’s voice stopped you in your tracks. It was low, sharp, and full of disbelief. He stood by the door, his arms crossed, his dark eyes narrowing on you like you were a problem he needed to fix.

“I—” you stammered, caught off guard by the intensity of his glare.

“Don’t you dare,” he muttered, taking slow, deliberate steps toward you. His tone softened, but it was no less commanding. “Don’t you dare talk about yourself like that.”

Before you could respond, his hands were on you, one gripping your chin to tilt your head up, the other slipping around your waist. His lips crashed against yours, swallowing your apology, silencing every self-deprecating word you wanted to say.

The kiss was rough, possessive, yet tinged with something almost tender. You gasped into his mouth as he pulled you closer, your bodies flush. His hardening cock pressed against you, and your hips instinctively ground against him, desperate for any kind of friction.

“Do you have any idea how fucking incredible you are?” he murmured against your lips, his voice laced with both anger and something softer—almost hurt. “How can you think otherwise?”

His hands found the zipper of your race suit, tugging it down to your waist. Beneath it, your fireproofs clung to your body, but Carlos was quick to strip you of the top, exposing your bare skin. His gaze raked over you, dark and hungry, as his hands cupped your tits.

“Let me remind you,” he said, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until they hardened under his touch. The sensation sent sparks straight to your pussy, and you couldn’t help the soft whimper that escaped your lips.

“Sir,” you breathed, your body arching into his hands as he pinched and teased. The attention he lavished on your nipples had you squirming, your thighs pressing together in search of relief.

“Look at you,” he murmured, his voice softening as his lips brushed along your jaw, then down your neck. “So beautiful, so fucking perfect.” His hands continued their work, alternating between gentle caresses and rough pinches that left you gasping.

The heat pooling between your legs was unbearable by the time he pulled back, his hands sliding lower. He turned you around, pressing you against the edge of his desk. His palm slid beneath the waistband of your fireproof leggings, finding your bare, slick cunt.

“You’re dripping,” he said, his tone low and full of approval. “All this for me, hermosa?”

You nodded, your breath hitching as his fingers dipped into your folds, spreading your arousal.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, sliding two fingers inside you, his thumb circling your clit. His pace was maddeningly slow, deliberate, and utterly devastating. “Now, tell me what I want to hear.”

“I—I’m sorry,” you started, but his fingers froze. His other hand grazed up your back until he reached the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair before he tugged harshly.

He leaned closer, and you were able to feel the heat of his body surrounding you. “Wrong answer,” he whispered in your ear, his voice dark and dangerous. He pulled his fingers out of your pussy and slapped your clit, the sharp sting making you cry out.

“Sir, please!” you whimpered, your body trembling as he teased you mercilessly.

“Try again,” he said, sliding his fingers back inside you with a rough thrust. “Say something good about yourself.”

“I—I’m good enough,” you stammered, the pleasure building in your core.

“Louder,” he commanded, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that spot that made you see stars.

“I’m good enough!” you cried out, your hands clawing at the desk for support.

“And?” he pressed, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, making your legs shake.

“I’m a good driver,” you whispered, the tears pooling in your eyes as you struggled to believe your own words while focusing on the pleasure building.

“The best,” he corrected, his pace quickening. “Say it.”

“I’m the best!” you sobbed, your body shaking as the tension coiled tighter and tighter.

“Good girl,” he purred, his lips brushing against your ear as he worked you closer to the edge. “Now cum for me. Show me how much you believe it.”

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your body convulsing as he continued to thrust his fingers into you, drawing out every drop of your release. The wet, filthy sounds of your orgasm filled the room, your cries of pleasure muffled by his hand over your mouth.

As you slumped against the desk, breathing heavily, Carlos carefully flipped you over, a small smile gracing his lips as he noticed your tinged cheeks. He leaned down, grazing his lips over your neck before pressing a firm kiss to the spot behind your ear.

“Remember this, princesa,” he murmured, his voice softer but no less authoritative. “You’re mine. My driver. The best one on the grid. And I don’t let anyone—not even you—talk shit about my driver.”

want more team principal!carlos? send me an ask with your filthiest thoughts and it’ll get answered during one of my dirty drabble days

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