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satellite-evans · 3 months ago

Text

closure

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x ex!reader

Summary: you don't need Carlos' closure.

Word count: 2k+

Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song

A/N:

This my third fic for the folkmore series, and it is with none other than Carlos Sainz! This is my first time writing for him so I was quite nervous, please tell me what you think!

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

It arrives in your inbox at 2:17 AM, the timestamp almost mocking the stillness of the night. The world outside is quiet, the kind of silence that fills your room with its weight, pressing against your ribs as if the very air knows what’s coming.

The email subject line is simple.

Just wanted you to know.

For a moment, you just stare at it. The words are innocuous, almost casual, but your heart knows better. You’ve seen that phrase before—at least in the way it echoed in your mind, in the way you tried to convince yourself you’d be fine without any more explanations.

And for some reason, you already know what it’s about. You don’t need to open it to feel the heavy, familiar knot tightening in your stomach. The ache in your chest that had dulled over time, the one you had worked so hard to ignore, throbs with renewed intensity, as if it’s alive and remembering the shape of old wounds. It’s as though your body recognizes him before your mind even does, and it reacts accordingly—a reflex you can’t outrun.

Your hands tremble slightly, the familiar sensation of fear and longing mixing in your veins, but you can't bring yourself to look away. The old ache becomes a weight in your throat, too, and for a moment, you're almost paralyzed by the gravity of it. You know this isn’t just a message. This is a door opening, an invitation to face something you buried deep. But you click on it anyway, drawn in by something you can’t explain, a part of you still hoping that maybe—just maybe—this will be the thing that makes it all make sense.

I just wanted you to know I hope you're doing well. I know things ended messy between us, and I hate that. I really do. I never wanted to hurt you, and I know that I did.

I’m sorry for how I left. For not saying enough. For saying too much. For everything in between.

I hope you’re happy. I really do.

- Carlos.

The words stare back at you, flat on the screen, sterile and detached. They sit there like a sentence of finality, as if they’re not even meant for you, but for someone who doesn’t carry the weight of your history with him. It’s just an email—another digital scrap of text sent into the void of the night. But after everything, after all that’s passed, this is what he gives you? Does he think that you’re just a situation that needs to be handled? A string of hollow words with no breath behind them, no warmth, nothing that even remotely resembles the person you once knew. No, not even that. The person you thought you knew.

It was almost ironic how the shape of his name still spelled out pain. Every letter, every syllable, carried a weight that dug deep, as if each time you thought of him, the wound reopened. It was strange, how someone you once loved could still manage to hurt you, even in their absence. Everything about him—his words, his actions, even his silence—had caused so much damage that it was honestly a little concerning.

You hated him. No, despised him. The anger simmered under your skin like a constant burn, always just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. The audacity he had, the way he thought he could just walk away, leaving destruction in his wake—it was almost unbelievable. He was wrong in so many ways the day he broke up with you. The way it all went down, how he acted like it was the easiest thing in the world, how he twisted every word you’d said into something it wasn’t—it was wrong, all of it. And by the looks of it, he probably knew by now. He had to. The way time had passed, the way people talked, the way you’d changed—he had to know the damage he’d done.

Your mind replays the last time you saw him. You can still picture it so vividly—the way he had stood in the doorway of your apartment, arms crossed over his chest like a shield, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t read. He looked smaller somehow, the exhaustion wearing him down, hanging off of him like a second skin, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet he couldn't find it in himself to care about you anymore. The lines in his face were deeper, like time had been more unforgiving to him than you ever realized. The way his jaw clenched so tightly when you had begged him to just talk to you, that desperate plea falling from your lips like a prayer, but he wouldn’t listen. His silence had cut deeper than anything he could have said. The way he hadn’t looked back when he walked away. Not once. Not a single glance. Like you didn’t exist. That was when you realized he had put a distance between you two ages ago that you were finally seeing—a sea you were too tired to cross.

The door had clicked shut behind him with a finality that shattered you into pieces you weren’t sure you could ever put back together. That sound—the click of the lock—wasn’t just the end of a visit, but the end of everything. The end of any future you thought you’d have together. You didn’t just lose him in that moment. You lost the life you’d built around him. And you’ve been trying to rebuild ever since.

And now, months later, this. This email. A quiet, late-night message, sterile in its simplicity, like he was trying to offer a neat little bow to wrap up the wreckage he left behind. But there’s no ribbon to tie, no neatness to this. What he gave you wasn’t closure—it was a reminder that, for all his talk of wanting to make amends, he’s still incapable of meeting you where you need him.

You slam your laptop shut, too quickly, too harshly, as if the words might physically reach out and strangle you if you don’t. For a moment, your fingers linger on the lid, shaking, the intensity of your pulse drowning out the quiet hum of the city outside. The night has become suffocating, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the email, or because you’re finally confronting what you’ve been trying to ignore for so long. The pain hasn’t gone anywhere, and neither has the ache. It sits with you like an old friend, one you can’t seem to shake.

It’s almost laughable, really. You can’t help but chuckle bitterly to yourself as you stare at the screen. He thinks he’s giving you closure. That this carefully constructed email, this rehearsed apology, is supposed to fix something, to heal the rift that’s been eating away at you for months. That it will somehow mend the fractures in your heart as if it’s something that can be neatly patched up with a few well-chosen words. But the truth is, it doesn’t even come close. No, this isn’t closure. This isn’t even an attempt at healing—it’s just an afterthought, a last-ditch effort to clear his conscience without ever truly facing the damage he caused. And it’s almost insulting.

Closure isn’t an email at 2 AM, casually dropped into your life as though he’s just checking off a box. It isn’t a collection of words stripped of warmth, void of real feeling, written at a distance, with no regard for the time, or the place, or the person it’s supposed to reach. Closure would have been a conversation. A real one. A face-to-face moment where he would have stayed, where he would have stayed long enough to listen, to hear you, and not just walk away the moment it got hard. That would have been closure. But he didn’t stay. He left you behind with nothing but the echoes of your unanswered questions.

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you struggle to steady yourself. You take a deep breath, but it shudders on the way in, uneven and sharp. It feels like your lungs are betraying you, like they can’t hold the air in anymore, and you’re left gasping in the void between anger and heartache. Your throat is thick with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall. Not again. Not for him. You’ve cried enough tears for him already, enough for a lifetime. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this anymore, that you wouldn’t let him be the reason you hurt.

You want to reply. You want to scream, to let him know how deeply he’s failed you, how his absence is still an open wound, festering in the corners of your mind. You want to tell him that, even now, you still wake up in the middle of the night, expecting to hear his voice, expecting to feel the weight of his arm around your waist. You still reach for him in the dark, your fingers grasping at air, and you realize too late that he’s not there. You want to tell him that every time you see red—Ferrari red, that damn red, the color of his car, of everything he used to be to you—you feel like you might break all over again, like all the pieces you’ve tried to pick up and put together have shattered into even smaller bits.

But he's not Ferrari red anymore. He's Williams blue now. You’d probably be a new wrinkle in his life, a person who wouldn’t fit. Heck, you didn’t even fit when he was in Ferrari. You could answer him back, tell him you forgave him, that you both could be friends again. Maybe that would iron everything out nicely.

But you won’t. You won’t give him that satisfaction. You won’t give him the power to pull you back into this mess, into this space where you lose yourself every time you think about him. He doesn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to let him keep doing this to you.

The frustration, the hurt, the unanswered questions—they all feel like they're swirling in a storm that won't quiet. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets around yourself as if they could offer the protection your mind and heart desperately crave.

You are fine. Everything is fine. You had your beers, your occasional crying sessions, your candles. You were doing so much better without him. You had to.

It cut deep, knowing him, all the way to the bone. The breakup had been necessary. It had to be. You were healing, getting better, moving on. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

But the ache in your chest and the rapid, shallow breaths you couldn't control told a different story. It was one you knew the ending to but didn’t want to face. His email was oh so unnecessary, cruel even. He had broken up with you months ago, and yet here he was again, trying to reach back into your life. He shouldn’t have contacted you. He should’ve left you alone.

And you definitely should’ve stayed in bed.

Hatred and regret twisted inside of you, each trying to take the lead, but you were too exhausted to figure out which was winning. Still, you knew you had to respond.

Your gaze lingered on the laptop screen for what felt like hours, your mind scrambling for the right words, something that could strike him, something that would hurt, something that would linger with him forever the way he had lingered in your life. But nothing came.

Instead, what you found was something deeper—something far more painful.

Acceptance.

Acceptance was the true winner in the battle between your emotions. It was the thing you’d been running from, the thing you’d fought so hard to avoid. You had accepted it.

It was over.

So, with a steady hand, you typed the final words you’d ever send him and blocked his email so he could never contact you again.

"I don’t need your closure."

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notturlover · 1 year ago

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Hey guys it’s me again 😻😻.

I just read an ask on @enchantecafe blog abt breakup sex with Oscar. But it was written as Oscar x carlos sainz ex!reader and now I NEED SOMEONE TO WRITE THIS AS A FULL ONE-SHOT PLS!!! If anyone writes this or has written this let me know :)

#formula one #oscar piastri #carlos sainz #heart eyes piastri #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #carlos sainz x reader #sainz #piastri #oscar piastri x female reader #Carlos sainz x ex!reader

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nichmeddar · 5 months ago

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charles leclerc

P1 - Charles Leclerc x Reporter/CS55 ex!Reader

Charles Leclerc x Reporter/CS55 ex!Reader - Instagram AU

F1_updates

Liked by user1, f1wagwannabe, and 9,546 others

F1_updates It appears that Carlos & Y/N have broken up? He just arrived at the Melbourne GP with a new girl on his arm... messy.

View all 918 comments

User1 Surely not? Could this just be a friend?

F1Wagwannabe I don't think so, check out gridgoss_2 new post ^

User2 Did they not just post pics together a month ago?

y/n_wifey excuse me what 😱

gridgoss_2

Liked by user1, user2, and 11,517 others

gridgoss_2 Carlos just posted this and deleted it seconds later.

View all 1,158 comments

User1 ffs, I really liked y/n, her interviews with him were actually so cute.

F1Wagz the grid is aboutta get messy af

y/n_wifey He realised how mad we were going to get so he deleted it

y/ninterviews literally, man better be scared ^

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by f1wagz, danielriccardo, and 410,116 others

y/n_y/l/n Anyways. Hi Melbourne!

View all 146,561 comments

User1 so I guess that's that?

F1Daniel_updated Liked by Daniel!

y/n_wifey unbothered queen - luv u x

y/n_updates

Liked by f1wagz, danielriccardo, and 2,352 others

y/n_updates brb, mourning this relationship

View all 215 comments

y/nstan1 ew no, was not a fan sorry!

y/n_y/l/n lol

F1wagz_4life omfg ^

F1_updates

Liked by user1, carlossainz, and 11,613 others

F1_updates Carlos at tonights F1 charity gala!

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User1 they do kinda look cute

y/nstan no. just no.

f1wagz Charles though🤤

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by charles_leclerc, user1, and 541,751 others

y/n_y/l/n once upon a gala🥂

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F1boys liked by Charles

y/nreports stunning!!!

f1wags oh hey there Charles

User1 where is the dress from? x

gridgoss_2

Liked by user1, f1boys, and 23,812 others

gridgoss_2 Carlos' ex (y/n y/l/n) posted this on her story and deleted it seconds later.

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f1boyz this shit is getting messy and i'm here for it

y/n_wifey the ultimate payback, well done gurl

f1goss okay but who is the man? surely that's not Carlos because he has his new gf

wagzoff1 no not Carlos but someone with an amazing jawline.

#p1 #charles leclerc x gf!reader #charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reporter!reader #charles leclerc x journalist!reader #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #carlos sainz x ex!reader #ex!carlos sainz

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rene-spade · 1 year ago

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miss louisiana i | c. leclerc, a. saint mleux | chase landry

poly! | fem! reader x obsessive! exes! charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux (+chase landry and f1 grid)

synopsis. your obsessive exes refuse to accept your new relationship with a man completely different from them. maybe they should move to louisiana? jk!. . . unless?

note. ok so reader is from louisiana and has cajun roots for context. chase landry is from swamp people 😭✌️ I loved that show when I was younger & I rewatched some recently and it reignited my crush on him sorry

WARNING(s); obsessive/possessive behavior, toxic/creepy exes (I make is as fluffy as I can tho trust), ooc Alex and Charles being a rich and out of touch, a spec of classism, stalking oops, (everyone Loves you)

miss.y/n📍belle river, la

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, jacoblandry, carlossainz55, and 1,006,349 others

miss.y/n back where I belong ☀️🌷🐊🐝🐍🌿🐠

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mariene.y/l/n be safe in the water my baby 🤗

miss.y/n yes maman 🤞😊 you know I’m protected

user oop who’s protecting you miss ma’am

user omgggg how did Charles n Alex fumble so baddd 😩😩🙏 I’ve needed y/n’s cajun french baddie ass since DAY ONE 🗣️

charles_leclerc so beautiful mon ange 😍 but that water is dark and might be dangerous. ta maman a raison!

see translation | your mom is right

user stopp didn’t y/n break things off with them???

user2 currently losing it my fav throuple might be back 💪🗣️

carlossainz55 hope you’re doing well mi dulce ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux yeah no this isn’t happening

user carlos sweetie delete this comment while you still have hands <3

user SHE’S BACK IN LOUISIANA RAHH

user2 how did I not know she was from the middle of nowhere 😭 what is pierre part??

user3 how didn’t you know!!! her dad literally used to hunt alligator before he died and her mom remarried and moved back to France . Her dad was cajun

user this might be a reach but y’all think she knows anybody from swamp people? Love that show 🤣🤣

liked by miss.y/n

♤ ♤ ♤

Alex’s leg bounced up and down nervously as her call went to voicemail for the 7th time in a row. She’d been calling your phone nonstop since hearing the news, anxious to know if it was true or not. It was always something that ate at her; her and Charles’ inability to relate to your childhood in Louisiana. They’d grown up among a higher class than you and in foreign countries. You would just giggle and wave off her concerns, insisting that even though they couldn’t understand your upbringing, that at least you could understand theirs.

“No answer.” She muttered, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. It was a habit she’d had as a child, one that you disapproved of and had trained out of her before you left them.

“She left us for a swamp man.” Charles pathetically finished Alex’s thought as they sat in his car, waiting to meet some other drivers and wags at the high-end restaurant Carlos chose.

“Don’t say it like that!” Alexandra turned her body towards the passenger window, “She didn’t leave us— not in that way! I told you she was homesick!”

Your father was a Cajun man who definitely took his culture to heart, doing a lot of hunting and fishing before he passed away suddenly when you were 12. Your mother was from France originally, and she remarried a rich Frenchman who’d ended up funding your modeling career after your success in pageantry. You moved straight to France at age 14 and found yourself in a completely different culture from how you grew up. You’d visited France before during summers with your mother, but it wasn’t home to you like Louisiana. You’d met Alexandra when the two of you were 19, and instantly bonded. Despite only really meeting briefly, it was love at first sight on Alex’s part and she supported you all the way to when you won Miss Universe after starting out Miss Louisiana.

When Charles had come along and had the same feelings that she did for you, it felt perfect, like everything had finally come together.

“With us is her home.” Charles replied, sucking his teeth.

“I can’t even—” Alex didn’t have to finish, the two had the same thought. They can’t even fathom the idea that you were with someone else.

Daniel was practically cackling in joy while Carlos at least tried to hide his amusement by covering his face. It was no secret that most of the f1 grid was praying for you to leave Charles/Alex so they could get a chance— but this wasn’t what they were expecting.

Bickering around the table ensued, only a few seconds before Alex was rolling her eyes with a groan and putting her face in her hands, “He doesn’t have any recent social media so I can’t even stalk him.”

“So we will just go there!”

“And what? Become swamp people?” Daniel was laughing so hard he was tearing up.

“Cha, that’s so ridiculous.” Alex mumbled.

“It is—!” Kika agreed suspiciously fast, “I just mean the split was recent, so maybe me and Pierre should visit her before you guys?” It’d only been a few months, but that had been enough to drive Charles and Alex a bit off the rails.

They’d only ever been apart from you for just over two days in the last year, up until you ghosted them. Well— it wasn’t technically ghosting when you left a note; a very brief letter in your familiar handwriting that told them you needed some space. They didn’t take it as a break up, although they did panic. Their numbers weren’t blocked, so they naturally took that as a good sign. This was probably because you wanted their attention since all their calls and messages were going through. The finality of it didn’t hit until it reached two weeks of no-contact from you and their photos were removed from your Instagram. The public noticed and so did the rest of the grid despite Alex and Charles’ now 3-month-long denial stage.

“le lieu s'appelle Pierre Part, yeah?” Pierre grinned and Charles sneered at him. (the place is called pierre part)

“They might have a point,” Daniel winced with a wide grin, “I think you’ll just look crazy if you show up. At least, one of us would just look like a friend who misses her, ya know?”

“None of you are visiting our girlfriend!” Alex frowned.

“Ex,” Carlos gently corrected into his fist with a cough before straightening up, “She jus’ is homesick maybe so give her some space and she will come back in no time.”

“I knew this would happen.” Alex slumped with her chin in her hand, “cet endroit est sa maison.” (that place is her home)

“You’ve never heard ‘if you love something, let it go’? If it’s meant to be, she’ll come back.” Daniel tried to reassure, but his face was almost a wince.

“We just wanted her close to us is all! We travel so much, we didn’t mean to take her away from her home—”

But Daniel gave them a look, knowing about their behavior with you. As in love with you as they are, Alex and Charles are intense about it. Endearing on one hand for awhile, but then the jealousy got worse and they were pretty delusional about their tendencies. He could understand it honestly— you were lovely. He imagined he’d be in the same state as Alex and Charles if you were his and you left him. Which is why he cut them so much slack, the rest of the table too.

“I don’t understand why she ran away like that!” Charles finished with a huff, running his fingers through his hair. He was starting to sweat. This felt like a cruel joke on your part— a mean way to get their attention.

“His ears are a little big.” Alex whispered, staring into her phone with a pout.

“et cela! regarde nos oreilles!” (and that! look at our ears!)

Pierre lost it at that; Charles pulling at his ears to make a point, “Maybe he’s just a nice guy, man!”

“We are nice!”

“Let me see.” Carlos walked around the table to see Alex’s phone.

She’d googled the name of your alleged new boyfriend— Chase Landry. He had starred on some Southern US reality show ‘Swamp People’; it mainly surrounded cajun alligator hunters in Louisiana. They had known you liked the show, but had never seen it themselves.

“Eh,” Carlos shrugged, “his ears aren’t that big. He is a little old for her though, no? 34?”

“Exactly! He is a pervert! I’m calling her again, actually.”

♤ ♤ ♤

miss.y/n 📍pierre part, la

liked by jacoblandry, carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, danielricciardo, and 1,014,108 others

miss.y/n me and my dirty swamp man foreva 🤞💛🌷🦆

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user STOPPP SHE SAID THAT’S MY MAN N IMMA STICK BY HIMMMM

user2 stfu 😭✋ the fact that this man most likely has no idea that this is going on

user3 his brother liking her posts and filling him in

miss.y/n jokes on y’all Jacob doesn’t know what’s going on either

bellahadid beautiful lily faery and her dirty swamp bf <3

miss.y/n <3 literally

user BELLA⁉️

arthur_leclerc beautiful view of the water, ma sœur!

see translation | my sister

user THEY SENT Y/NS FAVORITE LECLERC BROTHER IN TO PLAY DAMAGE CONTROL

user2 not “my sister” 😭😭😭 leclercs let her go challenge

user y/n’s harem coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 😭😂🤣

this is part 1 of perhaps 3. I plan on making part 2 much longer and more writing than social media like this one, just for some balanceee

taglist; @alliwantisadonut @splaterparty0-0 @charizznorizz

Ren

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #dark! f1 #f1 grid x reader #obsessive f1 #charles leclerc x reader #poly f1 #f1 oc #obsessive charles leclerc #ex! charles leclerc #Charles leclerc fic #carlos sainz x reader #alex saint mleux x reader #alexandra saint mleux #f1 reverse harem #swamp people x reader #chase landry x reader

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love-belle · 2 years ago

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when i said we could be friends, guess i lied !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them trying to be friends and failing miserably.

for when you can't forgive and forget so fuck you and fuck that is the way to go. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // carlos sainz x fem!reader

warnings - language

author's note - posting this bc i promised y'all i will!!!! only one part of this series left before i start with all of their second parts!!!!! thank you so much for reading, i love you <3

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by francisca.cgomes, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 788,626 others

yourusername "the grudge" is now officially yours <3 !! it took me exactly 178 days to complete this song and it's easily one of the most vulnerable and raw songs i have ever written. every feeling i have felt for the past few months is sewn into words and i hope you all like it just as much as i do. i love you <3

13,628 comments

username WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

username oh my god

username my undying LOVE now i hold it like a GRUDGE

username this has ruined me wtf

username no bc how can she write "it takes strength to forgive but i don't feel strong" and expect us all to be okay??????

username WE 💔 BOTH 💔 DREW 💔 BLOOD 💔 BUT 💔 MAN 💔 THOSE 💔 CUTS 💔 WERE 💔 NEVER 💔 EQUAL 💔

-> username she's never reaching the pearly gates for this

username carlos sainz i will haunt u in ur dreams

francisca.cgomes such a raw and heartfelt song!! felt every second of this!!

*liked by yourusername*

username i miss the drivers in her comments section :////

-> username carlos really snatched the most iconic friendships from us

-> username fr like give me my charles and y/n, lando and y/n, daniel and y/n, MAX AND Y/N back

username carlos i am in ur walls

username I TRY TO BE TOUGH!!!!!!! I TRY TO BE MEAN!!!!!!! BUT EVEN AFTER ALL THIS UR STILL EVERYTHING TO ME!!!!!!

username 178 days.........THEY BROKE UP EXACTLY 178 DAYS AGO

username i need this song injected in my brain

username no bc i thought it'd be a song about revenge or like shitting on him but this makes me wanna die whatcthrbfuck ur paying for my therapy

lilymhe so proud of you 💌

*liked by yourusername*

username i NEED all the drivers to comment in this post stat so i can know that they're all friends 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

username DO YOU THINK I DESERVED IT ALLLLL

-> username YOUR FLOWERS FILLED WITH VITRIOL

-> username YOU BUILT ME UP TO WATCH ME FALL

-> username YOU HAVE EVERYTHING AND YOU STILL WANT MORE

username how could anybody do the things u did so easily 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

-> username no bc if i catch him out on streets it's on SIGHT

username she genuinely looked so sad in her ig live i wanted to cry for her 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔💔

username the fact that carlos broke up with her over CALL like mf at least do it with ur chest

alexandrasaintmleux 🤍🤍🤍

*liked by yourusername*

username is it js me or this feels like the end of y/n's friendship with the drivers and their partners like they haven't liked this post and only a few wags did and while they also commented, y/n did not reply to them

-> username no bc i will actually CRY if that happens 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username "it takes strength to forgive but im not quite sure im there yet" fuck forgiving if i was y/n i would SWING

username i honestly thought that they'd make it like they were just SO real

-> username they were together for 6 years EVERYONE thought that they'd make it

carmenmmundt 🫶🏼

*liked by yourusername*

username PLEASE IM SCREAMINGGG WHAT THE FUCK

username y/n ur paying for my therapy sessions

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, landonorris and 799,526 others

carlossainz55 when i said we could be friends, guess i lied

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≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 798,627 others

yourusername you have everything and you still want more

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#f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 imagines #social media au #fake instagram imagines #carlos sainz imagines #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x fem!reader #carlos sainz instagram au #carlos sainz ex!reader #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz au #carlos sainz blurb

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

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i’m giving up your ghost

i’d live in these stories forever if it means being with you

my name on your ribcage (cl16)

you revitalise my fraying bones (op81)

give anything to stop time (mv1)

red flags waving (gr63)

electricity surging in the air (kr7)

a single look (cs55)

this love's but a newborn (ls18)

let's just see where this goes (ms47)

obliterated these walls for you (ln4)

someone else's word to keep (yt22)

the apartment we won't share (sv5)

lose sight of every divide (jb22)

on the drive home (ll30)

vinyl and seeking status (aa23)

either way, i'll keep you here (ls2)

it's come to a close

#no i’m not writing abt my ex #duno what ur talking abt #disneyprincemuke masterlist #charles leclerc x reader #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #alex albon x reader #george russell x reader #mick schumacher x reader #carlos sainz x reader #logan sargeant x reader #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke iguyg

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nichmeddar · 1 month ago

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carlos sainz

STORM! - Carlos Sainz Jr.

Carlos remembers his ex Girlfriend's fear of storms, so he simply decides to knock at her door on a scary stormy evening.

🏁: carlos sainz x ex girlfriend! oc (her name is maia☝️😌)

🏁: exes to lovers. angst. very soft sex scene (nothing explicit). i think my english is improving but yeah, still not my first language.

🪻: soooo, first carlos post yasss. honestly i was inspired by another post with the friendly exes trope but i wanted mine to be more like a "okay we should get back together" sort of thing. It's probably the most used plot in this app but honestly I don't care, I wanted to have my own lol. enjoy!

The rain came down in sheets, relentless and loud against the pavement. Carlos stood at Maia's front door, drenched despite the hoodie pulled over his head, fingers curled into a fist just inches from knocking.

He knows he shouldn't be here. Not after what happened.

But the storm was loud —too loud— and he remembered, like muscle memory, how she used to curl into his side during nights like this, asking if he could stay until the thunder passed.

So he knocked.

When Maia opened the door, her eyes widened. She was barefoot, wrapped in a soft sweater. "Carlos?, what—"

"I thought..." He hesitated, suddenly unsure. “You hate storms. I figured you might want… company.”

For a moment, silence. The kind of silence filled with everything unsaid, unresolved. Then she stepped aside.

"You're soaked," she murmured as he passed her, his presence filling the quiet the way it used to. "You didn't have to come."

"I know," he said, voice low. "But I wanted to."

She didn´t ask why, she didn´t need to.

Maia returned from the kitchen with a towel, tossing it gently toward him. "Here. Before you drip all over the floor."

Carlos caught it with a sheepish smile. “Thanks.”

As he dried his hair, she hovered by the edge of the hallway, clearly unsure of what came next. He didn’t blame her. The last time they stood this close, they weren’t exes yet.

"I can take the guest room," he offered, almost too quickly. "If it´s okay."

She hesitated. And then, quietly, “There’s a couch in my room that you can take.”

His hands froze, gaze lifted to meet hers. She wasn’t looking at him, not directly. Her eyes were fixed somewhere near the floor, arms crossed tightly over her chest like she was afraid of what she’d just said.

"It´s just... I don´t like sleeping alone when it's like this," she added, her voice barely above a whisper. "You know that."

Carlos swallowed. A hundred words burned the tip of his tongue, but he just nodded.

“Okay.”

Maia turned around, not waiting for him to follow—but he did, his heart beating too loud, matching the rhythm of the storm outside. The hallway felt too short, the space between them too charged.

Her room looked the same. Books stacked unevenly on the nightstand, the lamp casting a warm amber glow, and yes—a small couch tucked into the corner, still covered in the same old throw blanket he remembered from last year.

She pointed to it wordlessly, and he gave her a small, grateful smile as he sat.

But then she stayed standing. Just watching him.

He tilted his head. “What?”

“You’re really just going to sleep on the couch?”

He blinked, startled. “Well, yeah. That was the plan.”

Maia laughed, a nervous, quiet thing. “Right. Of course.”

She climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up to her chin, back turned to him. A beat passed.

Then another. And then, barely audible over the rain: “Good night, Carlos.”

He stared at the ceiling. “Good night, Maia.”

But neither of them slept.

The storm refused to settle. Wind howled outside the windows, and the rain tapped against the glass like fingers desperate to be let in. Carlos stared into the darkness, one arm tucked behind his head, the other curled tightly against his chest like it could somehow hold back everything he wanted to say.

Maia shifted in bed. He could hear it—the rustle of blankets, the sigh she tried to muffle. Then...

A bolt of thunder split the sky, loud enough to make the walls tremble. Carlos sat up instinctively.

So did Maia.

“Okay, no,” she whispered, kicking off the blankets. “This is ridiculous. I’m not sleeping like this.”

He blinked as she padded out of the room, her silhouette vanishing down the hall. A few minutes later, she returned, holding two mugs. Her shoulders were tense, her steps quiet. She handed him one without a word and crawled back into bed.

“Chamomile?” he guessed, sniffing the steam.

She nods, knowing the tea won't help but takes a sip anyway.

Carlos let the silence settle again. Outside, thunder growled, softer now but still menacing. He glanced over at her, catching the way her eyes kept darting toward the couch. Then to him. Then to the bed.

She bit her lip. “Just get in bed, Carlos.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it twice,” she said, a little too casually. “There’s a pillow between us. It’s not a big deal.”

Carlos hesitated, then set the mug on the nightstand and moved slowly toward the bed. He climbed in, careful to stay on his side of the pillow barrier, heart pounding louder than the storm.

For a while, neither of them said anything. Just breathing in sync, lying inches apart like they hadn’t done this a hundred times before.

Then Maia broke the silence. “You’re quiet.”

He swallowed. “What do you want me to say?”

She hummed. “I don’t know. Maybe why you left me?”

Carlos closed his eyes. There it was. No warning. No mercy. Just the question that had haunted him since the night he walked out.

“Maybe it´s a dumb answer but,” He exhaled. “I thought I was protecting you.”

“From what?” she asked, voice calm. But her fingers were curled around the edge of the blanket too tight.

“From me,” he admitted. “From this life. The chaos. The distance. The media. I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go.”

She let out a breath—half-laugh, half-sigh. “You know what the worst part is?”

He turned his head, barely able to look at her. “What?”

“You never asked me if I wanted to be protected.”

The thunder rolled again. Neither flinched this time.

Carlos looked up at the ceiling, guilt pressing heavy on his chest. “I’ve felt like an idiot every day since.”

Maia smiled, just barely. “Good. You should.”

At some point in the night, Maia drifted off.

Maybe it was the tea. Maybe it was sheer exhaustion. Or maybe—most likely—it was the comforting presence of the man who used to be her entire world lying just inches away.

She didn’t remember the moment sleep claimed her. All she knew was that when she opened her eyes, the storm had passed.

Soft light peeked through the curtains, casting a pale morning glow across the room. The rain had slowed to a gentle drizzle, and everything felt... warmer.

Maia blinked, disoriented for a moment, and then she felt it—an arm draped over her waist, a solid warmth behind her, a slow, steady rise and fall of breathing pressed against her back. The pillow was gone.

She froze, heart thudding, then slowly turned over. Carlos.

Still asleep, his brows slightly furrowed, lips parted in a soft breath. He looked peaceful like this, defenseless in a way she hadn’t seen in a long time. His hand was curled loosely near her hip, like it had been there all night. Like he belonged there.

Her breath caught.

She couldn’t stop looking at him. At the messy hair, the faint stubble on his jaw, the warmth of his body next to hers. It was overwhelming—how right it felt. So she did what any emotionally confused person would do.

She pretended to be asleep.

She shut her eyes just in time to hear his breathing shift. A small groan. A soft stretch. Then silence.

Then..., “I know you’re not sleeping.”

Her eyes snapped open on instinct, and Carlos was already watching her, a lazy smirk spreading across his face. “You were staring at me,” he said, voice thick with sleep.

“I was not.”

“You were,” he teased, propping himself up on one elbow. “It was either that or you developed x-ray vision in your sleep.”

Maia covered her face with both hands, groaning into them. “This is so embarrassing.”

Carlos chuckled, warm and low. “You think you´re embarrassed? I’m the one who threw away the best thing I ever had and ended up crawling back during a thunderstorm.”

She peeked at him through her fingers, trying not to smile. “You didn’t crawl.”

“I emotionally crawled.”

She burst into soft giggles, and he grinned like he’d just won something. And in a way, he had.

They stayed like that for a while—facing each other, tangled in quiet and warmth, the morning creeping in too gently for either of them to move.

Carlos brushed a piece of hair from her face, his fingers lingering a second too long. “You look the same,” he said softly. “And totally different.”

Maia raised an eyebrow. “Is that a compliment or a riddle?”

He grinned. “Little bit of both.”

She laughed under her breath and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. Then she rolled onto her back, arms tucked under her head, voice casual—too casual.

“So,” she started, “do you think the storm was, like… a sign?”

He shifted closer, intrigued. “A sign?”

“Yeah. Like, fate pushing us back together.” She turned her head to look at him. “Or maybe we just needed one night to sleep together again, get it out of our systems, and never see each other ever again.”

Carlos blinked. “Wow. Two very different interpretations.”

She shrugged, lips twitching with a smirk. “Just weighing my options.”

He looked at her for a long beat, unreadable. Then, voice low and quiet, “It’s morning, so I don’t know about the one night part.”

Maia’s breath hitched.

He hadn’t moved closer, but somehow he felt closer. The air between them tightened. She could feel the heat of him, the pull, the want.

She swallowed. “That sounds dangerously like you want this to be more than just one night.”

Carlos’s eyes dropped to her mouth. Then slowly back to her eyes.

“Maybe I do.” The room went still.

Maia didn’t move. Neither did he. They were centimeters apart now, her heart in her throat, her breath shaky.

Carlos leaned in, breath warm against her lips, eyes flicking between hers and her mouth.

Maia didn’t move. She didn’t want to move.

And just as their lips were about to meet—boom. A low, distant rumble rolled through the sky, followed by the sudden patter patter patter of heavy rain returning against the windows.

They both flinched just slightly, like the storm had reached between them and tapped them on the shoulder.

Maia blinked, her forehead still pressed against his. A shaky laugh escaped her lips as she pulled back just enough to look at him.

“Well,” she whispered, “that’s our cue, apparently.”

Carlos let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Apparently.”

A beat passed, and Maia tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, trying to recover from the moment. The storm outside was steady now—less aggressive, more like a reminder that it was still there.

She turned toward him, softer now. “When do you have to go back?”

His brow furrowed slightly, like the question pulled him out of the warmth of her bed and back into reality. “Tomorrow. My flight’s in the afternoon.”

She nodded, thoughtful. “So you’re still just Carlos for one more day.”

He smiled at that—quiet, grateful. “I guess I am.”

Maia hesitated, then sat up a little, the blanket falling from her shoulders.

“Then stay,” she said. “Just a little longer.”

Carlos stared at her. Like maybe this was the real turning point. The invitation that wasn’t about tea or thunder or couches. This one was about them.

“Okay,” he said, no hesitation this time. “I’ll stay."

Maia padded into the kitchen first, barefoot and still wrapped in the oversized sweater she'd slept in. Carlos followed a few minutes later, his hair a mess, wearing one of her old hoodies—one she forgot she still had, and that looked unfairly good on him.

“I didn’t peg you as a hoodie thief,” she teased as he rubbed his eyes.

Carlos gave a half-smile. “You left it on my side of the closet. That’s practically a dare.”

Maia rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at her lips.

The rain still whispered against the windows, the whole apartment wrapped in that soft gray light only stormy mornings could offer. She set a pan on the stove, pulling out eggs and bread while Carlos leaned against the counter, arms crossed, just watching her.

She could feel it—his gaze. Hot. Focused. Like it physically pressed against her back.

“You’re staring,” she said without turning around.

“You’re cooking,” he replied, casually. “It’s hot.”

Maia turned then, raising an eyebrow. “You think me doing pancakes is sexy?”

Carlos smirked. “It’s the whole vibe. Sweater. Barefoot. Looking like a storm woke you up. Dangerous territory.”

She tried to ignore the warmth rising in her cheeks, turning back to the stove with a shake of her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

He stepped closer, just enough for her to feel him behind her.

“But you missed me,” he said low, near her ear.

Maia froze. Her fingers tightened on the spatula.

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she flipped the pancake with unnecessary precision.

Then—softly—“You have no idea.”

Carlos didn’t move. Just stood there, close enough that his chest nearly brushed her back.

Carlos reached past her, hand brushing her waist as he grabbed a plate from the cabinet.

It was a simple touch. Light. Casual.

But Maia’s body stiffened.

He noticed.

She didn’t move away, not exactly—but she went still. Her hand faltered over the spatula, and her breath caught in a way that wasn’t playful anymore.

Carlos stepped back a little, brows drawing together. Then, a hypothesis forms in his head.

“Maia?” he asked softly. “Are you… seeing someone else?”

She turned sharply, blinking at him like the question had pulled her out of a dream. “What?”

“I just—” he ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling. “You went quiet. And I thought maybe… there’s someone. And that this is just…”

Maia shook her head, eyes wide. “No. God, no, Carlos.”

“Then what is it?” he asked, voice lower now, almost pleading. “Because I can feel something here. And I think you feel it too. But you’re holding back.”

She looked down, her voice tight. “Because I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“Of you,” she said, the words raw and too fast. “Of how badly I still love you.”

That silenced him.

Maia let out a breath, trembling just slightly. “You left once. And I understood why, I did. But it still broke me. And now you’re here and everything feels like before and I—I don’t know how to be the kind of person who fits in your life. I’m not built for that.”

Carlos’s heart ached at the sight of her—the way she tried to sound steady but couldn’t quite pull it off. He stepped closer again, slower this time.

“You were never a burden mi vida,” he said gently. “You were the one part of my life that felt real.”

She looked up at him, her eyes glassy now. “Then why did you leave?”

“Because I thought I was doing you a favor.” His voice cracked. “And it was the worst mistake of my life.”

The kitchen fell into silence after his confession.

Carlos stood there, open and raw in front of her, and for a moment, Maia couldn’t breathe.

He looked like he was waiting for her to walk away.

But she didn’t. Instead, she closed the distance, slowly. Her fingers brushed his—hesitant at first—then threaded through them like they used to.

Carlos’s breath hitched. “I missed you,” she whispered, her voice almost trembling. “Every single day.”

He brought their joined hands to his lips, kissed her knuckles like she was made of something sacred. “I never stopped loving you.”

She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his. “Then show me.”

It wasn’t a demand. It was a plea.

A quiet invitation to close the space the world had opened between them. And so he did.

He kissed her gently at first, like he was afraid she’d disappear. Like he didn’t quite believe he had permission. Her hands found his jaw, pulling him closer, anchoring him in the moment. And when she kissed him back—truly, finally—it wasn’t desperate. It was home.

Somehow, they made it back to her bedroom, their bodies already learning each other again. No rush. Just the quiet unfolding of something that had been buried under silence and hurt for far too long.

He undressed her like she was a secret he’d never wanted to forget. She touched him like she was trying to remember him right this time.

There was no rush in it—just soft gasps, reverent hands, whispered names like prayers.

When he was inside her, everything stilled.

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t polished. It was real. It was Carlos and Maia, stripped of titles and fears, holding onto each other in the dark.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured against her shoulder.

“I know,” she breathed, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye. “You always did.”

They moved together slowly, like the world outside didn’t matter anymore. Like the rain could fall forever and they’d still be wrapped in this moment, in each other.

And when it was over, when their breaths calmed and the storm settled once again, he pulled her into his chest, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“Stay,” she whispered sleepily, her fingers tracing circles on his skin.

Carlos held her tighter. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#storm #rqsie63 writes #carlos sainz x ex girlfriend!reader #carlos sainz x gf!reader #carlos sainz x girlfriend!reader #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x oc #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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leclerc-hs · 2 days ago

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so um.....surprise!!!! ;)

romantic chocolates? - cs55

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend take aphrodisiac chocolates at the same party OR you and carlos fuck after not seeing each other for months

OUT SATURDAY MAY 17, 2025 (idk what time yet)

ln4 cl16 mv1 op81 cs55

smut below! (18+) ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ “Want me to remind you how good you were?” His voice is dark. “How you used to ride my fingers like a good fucking slut while I spat in your mouth?”

Your legs nearly give out.

“Still got that pretty moan?” He breathes.

“Fuck you.” You shove him back. Hard.

comment or message me if you want to be on the tag list!!!! xoxo

#Carlos Sainz x reader #Carlos Sainz smut #Carlos Sainz angst #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz x oc #f1 one shot #f1 fanfiction #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x oc

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pucksandpower · 8 months ago

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Hall Pass

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Carlos Sainz x ex!Reader

Summary: Carlos’ desire to fantasize about other women leads you straight into his teammate’s arms (or in which your boyfriend chooses a famous actress as his hall pass while you decide on someone much closer to home)

The hotel suite is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, casting long shadows across the plush carpet. You sit on the edge of the king-sized bed, your fingers idly tracing the intricate patterns on the duvet cover. Across the room, Carlos leans against the ornate writing desk, his arms crossed over his chest and a pensive look on his face.

“Y/N,” he begins, his voice low and measured. “We need to talk.”

You look up, meeting his gaze with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “What’s on your mind?”

He shifts his weight, uncrossing his arms and shoving his hands into his pockets. “I’ve been thinking ... about us. About our relationship.”

Your heart skips a beat, a knot forming in your stomach. “Oh? And what have you been thinking?”

Carlos takes a deep breath, his eyes darting around the room before settling back on you. “I love you, Y/N. I do. But ... I can’t help feeling like we’re stuck in a rut.”

You furrow your brow, confusion and hurt mingling in your chest. “A rut? What do you mean?”

“It’s just ...” He pauses, searching for the right words. “We’ve been together for so long, and it’s been great. But don’t you ever wonder what else is out there?”

You stand up, taking a step towards him. “Carlos, are you saying you want to break up?”

He holds up his hands, shaking his head quickly. “No, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just ... I had an idea.”

“An idea?” You repeat, your voice laced with skepticism.

Carlos nods, a hint of excitement creeping into his tone. “What if we each got a hall pass?”

You blink, taken aback. “A hall pass? Like ... permission to sleep with someone else?”

“Exactly,” he says, snapping his fingers. “But not just anyone. We each choose one person, and if we ever happen to meet them and the opportunity arises, we’re allowed to go for it. No hard feelings, no guilt.”

You stare at him, trying to process his words. “Let me get this straight. You want us to choose people we can cheat on each other with, guilt-free?”

Carlos winces at your phrasing. “It’s not cheating if we both agree to it. Think of it as ... spicing things up. Adding a little excitement to our relationship.”

You cross your arms, mirroring his earlier stance. “And you think this will solve our supposed ‘rut’?”

He shrugs, a boyish grin spreading across his face. “It could be fun. Just imagine the thrill of knowing we both have this secret possibility out there.”

You shake your head, disbelief coloring your voice. “I can’t believe you’re seriously suggesting this.”

“Come on, mi amor,” Carlos coaxes, taking a step towards you. “It’s not like anything will actually happen. We’ll probably never even meet the people we choose.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Then what’s the point?”

“The point is the fantasy, the excitement,” he explains, his eyes lighting up. “It’s like ... buying a lottery ticket. You know you probably won’t win, but the possibility is thrilling.”

You chew on your lower lip, considering his words. Part of you wants to shut down this ridiculous idea immediately, but another part is intrigued by the challenge. “And you really think this will help our relationship?”

Carlos nods eagerly. “I do. It’ll add a spark, keep things interesting.”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I can’t believe I’m even considering this.”

“So ... is that a yes?” Carlos asks, hope evident in his voice.

After a long moment, you nod slowly. “Fine. But we set some ground rules first.”

Carlos grins, clapping his hands together. “Of course! Whatever you want.”

You hold up a finger. “Rule number one: we tell each other who we choose. No secrets.”

“Agreed,” Carlos says quickly.

“Rule number two: if anything ever does happen, we tell each other immediately.”

Carlos nods. “Absolutely. Honesty is key.”

You take a deep breath. “Okay. So ... who’s your choice?”

Carlos’ grin widens. “Margot Robbie.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Seriously? Margot Robbie?”

He shrugs, looking pleased with himself. “What? She’s gorgeous, talented, and there’s practically zero chance I’ll ever meet her, let alone have the opportunity to sleep with her.”

You shake your head, amused despite yourself. “Well, at least you’re being realistic about your chances.”

Carlos chuckles. “Exactly. It’s the perfect choice. Exciting, but safe.” He leans forward, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “What about you? Who’s your hall pass going to be?”

You pause, pretending to consider your options carefully. In truth, you’ve already made your decision, a plan forming in your mind. “Well,” you say slowly, “I think I’ll choose ... Charles.”

Carlos’ brow furrows in confusion. “Charles? What Charles?”

You allow a small smirk to play across your lips. “Charles Leclerc.”

The color drains from Carlos’ face as realization dawns. “Charles ... Leclerc? My teammate, Charles Leclerc?”

You nod, feigning innocence. “That’s the one.”

Carlos sputters, his earlier confidence evaporating. “But-but you can’t choose him!”

“Why not?” You ask, your voice sweet. “He fits all the criteria. He’s attractive, talented, and exciting.”

“But he’s my teammate!” Carlos exclaims, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “You see him all the time!”

You shrug, echoing his earlier nonchalance. “So? You’re the one who wanted to add some excitement to our relationship.”

Carlos paces back and forth, his earlier enthusiasm replaced by panic. “This isn’t what I meant! I chose someone I’ll never meet. You chose someone you could literally bump into tomorrow!”

“Carlos,” you say, your voice taking on a patronizing tone, “are you saying you don’t trust me?”

He stops pacing, turning to face you with wide eyes. “Of course I trust you. It’s just ... it’s Charles!”

You take a step towards him, your expression hardening. “Let me ask you something. Did you really think this through when you suggested it? Or were you just hoping for a free pass to fantasize about other women without feeling guilty?”

Carlos opens and closes his mouth, struggling to find a response. “I ... that’s not ... I didn’t mean ...”

You cut him off, your voice sharp. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you thought you could have your cake and eat it too. You’d get to keep me while indulging in your little fantasies about Margot Robbie or whoever else catches your eye.”

“Mi amor, please,” Carlos pleads, reaching for your hand. “That’s not what this was about at all.”

You pull away from his grasp, shaking your head. “No? Then what was it about? Because it sure as hell wasn’t about improving our relationship.”

He runs his hands over his face, frustration evident in every line of his body. “I just ... I thought it would be fun. A little harmless fantasy to spice things up.”

“Well, congratulations,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve certainly spiced things up now.”

Carlos looks at you, desperation in his eyes. “Can we just ... can we forget this whole thing? Pretend I never suggested it?”

You shake your head, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “Oh no, Carlos. You don’t get to backtrack now. You wanted a hall pass? You’ve got one.”

“Please,” he begs, reaching for you again. “I was being stupid. I don’t want this.”

You step back, avoiding his touch. “Too late. What was it you said? No hard feelings, no guilt?”

Carlos’ face crumples. “I didn’t think ... I never imagined you’d choose someone like Charles.”

“Maybe you should have,” you snap. “Maybe you should have considered how I’d feel about you wanting permission to sleep with other women.”

He hangs his head, shame written across his features. “I’m sorry. I really am. Can we please just talk about this?”

You shake your head, moving towards the door of the suite. “I think we’ve talked enough for one night.”

Carlos’ head snaps up, panic flashing in his eyes. “Where are you going?”

You grab your purse from the nearby chair, slinging it over your shoulder. “Out. I need some air.”

“Y/N, wait!” Carlos calls, his voice rising in desperation. “You can’t ... you’re not going to ...”

You turn back to face him, your hand on the doorknob. “Going to what, Carlos? Use my hall pass? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He shakes his head vehemently. “No! I mean, yes, but not like this. Not with Charles!”

“Why not?” You challenge. “He’s attractive, available, and conveniently located just down the hall. Isn’t that exciting?”

Carlos’ face contorts with a mixture of anger and fear. “You wouldn’t. You’re just trying to teach me a lesson.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Am I? Are you willing to bet on that?”

He takes a step towards you, his voice pleading. “Mi amor, please. I’m begging you. Don’t do this.”

You open the door, pausing in the threshold. “You know, Carlos, you were right about one thing. This definitely isn’t boring anymore.”

As you step into the hallway, you hear Carlos’ voice rising behind you. “Y/N! Come back! We need to talk about this!”

You let the door swing shut behind you, cutting off his desperate pleas. As you walk down the corridor, your heels clicking against the polished floor, a small smile plays across your lips.

You have no intention of actually going to Charles’ room, of course. But Carlos doesn’t need to know that. Let him stew in his own jealousy and insecurity for a while. Maybe next time he’ll think twice before suggesting something so foolish.

As you reach the elevator, you can still hear Carlos’ muffled shouts echoing from your suite. You press the button for the lobby, a mix of emotions swirling in your chest. Part of you feels guilty for causing him such distress, but a larger part feels justified in your actions. He needed to understand the consequences of his thoughtless suggestion.

As the elevator doors slide closed, you let out a long breath. It’s going to be a long night, but perhaps this will be the wake-up call your relationship needed. Not in the way Carlos had intended, but in a way that forces you both to confront the real issues lurking beneath the surface.

The elevator begins its descent, carrying you away from the drama upstairs and towards an uncertain future. One thing’s for sure — your relationship will never be the same after tonight. Whether that’s for better or worse remains to be seen.

***

The hotel bar is a sanctuary of soft lighting and hushed conversations. You sit perched on a high stool, nursing a glass of red wine and trying to quiet the storm of emotions raging inside you. The bartender, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, keeps glancing your way, clearly sensing your distress but respectfully maintaining his distance.

You’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice the figure approaching until he speaks.

“Y/N? Is everything alright?”

You look up, startled, to find Charles Leclerc standing beside you, concern etched across his handsome features. For a moment, you’re struck by the irony of the situation.

“Charles,” you manage, forcing a smile. “I’m fine, just ... needed some air.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying your act. “At the bar? Must be some very alcoholic air.”

Despite yourself, you let out a small laugh. “Caught me. Mind if I buy you a drink to keep my secret?”

Charles slides onto the stool next to you, a warm smile playing across his lips. “Only if you let me buy the next round and tell me what’s really going on.”

You hesitate, swirling the wine in your glass. “It’s ... complicated.”

“I’ve got time,” Charles says softly, signaling the bartender. “And I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.”

As the bartender sets a Moscow Mule in front of Charles, you take a deep breath. “Carlos and I had a fight.”

Charles nods, his expression neutral. “I see. Do you want to talk about it?”

You laugh bitterly. “Oh, you’re going to love this. He suggested we each get a hall pass.”

Charles’ brow furrows in confusion. “A hall pass? Like in school?”

“No,” you explain, taking a sip of your wine. “A relationship hall pass. Permission to sleep with one chosen person if the opportunity ever arose.”

Charles’ eyes widen in surprise. “He suggested that? Really?”

You nod, feeling a fresh wave of anger wash over you. “He thought it would ‘spice things up’. Add some excitement to our relationship.”

“And how did you feel about that?” Charles asks carefully, studying your face.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Honestly? I felt ... hurt. Betrayed. Like I wasn’t enough for him anymore.”

Charles reaches out, hesitating for a moment before gently placing his hand over yours. “Y/N, you’re more than enough. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

You look up, meeting his intense gaze. “Thank you. That ... means a lot.”

He squeezes your hand before pulling away, taking a sip of his drink. “So, what happened next?”

You feel a mischievous smile tugging at your lips. “Well, I agreed.”

Charles nearly chokes on his drink. “You did?”

You nod, unable to suppress a small chuckle at his reaction. “I did. But not for the reasons Carlos wanted.”

“Oh?” Charles leans in, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Do tell.”

“Well,” you say, lowering your voice conspiratorially, “Carlos chose Margot Robbie as his hall pass.”

Charles snorts. “Of course he did.”

“Exactly,” you agree. “So when it was my turn to choose ... I picked you.”

For a moment, Charles is speechless, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Finally, he manages to sputter, “Me? You chose me?”

You nod, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “I did. You should have seen Carlos’ face. He was furious.”

Charles runs a hand through his hair, looking both flattered and bewildered. “I ... wow. I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” you assure him quickly. “I didn’t choose you because I actually intended to ... you know. I chose you to teach Carlos a lesson.”

Charles nods slowly, processing this information. “And did he learn his lesson?”

You shrug, finishing off your wine. “I don’t know. I left him screaming in our hotel room.”

“Y/N,” Charles says softly, his voice full of concern. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this. You deserve better.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “Do I? Sometimes I wonder ...”

Charles reaches out again, this time cupping your cheek gently. “Listen to me. You are an incredible woman. You’re smart, funny, beautiful ... any man would be lucky to have you. And if Carlos can’t see that, if he’s willing to risk losing you over some stupid fantasy, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

You lean into his touch, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the wine. “Charles ...”

He leans in closer, his voice low and intense. “If you were with me, I would treat you like the queen you deserve to be. I would never even think about another woman, let alone ask for permission to be with one.”

Your breath catches in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest. “Charles, I ... we can’t ...”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “Why not? You have a hall pass, don’t you?”

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of emotions clouding your judgment. “That’s not ... I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

Charles sighs, dropping his hand from your face. “I know. And I would never want to be the reason you and Carlos break up. But Y/N, you have to know ... I’ve had feelings for you for a long time.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You have?”

He nods, a rueful smile on his face. “How could I not? You’re amazing. But you were with Carlos, and I respected that. I still do. But seeing you hurt like this ... it kills me.”

You feel tears spilling down your cheeks now, unable to hold them back any longer. “I don’t know what to do. I love Carlos, but after tonight ... I don’t know if I can trust him anymore.”

Charles pulls you into a gentle hug, his strong arms wrapping around you protectively. “It’s okay. You don’t have to decide anything right now.”

You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his comforting scent. “I just ... I feel so lost.”

He strokes your hair softly, his voice a soothing murmur. “I know. But you’re not alone. I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

You pull back slightly, looking up into his eyes. “Thank you. You’re a good friend.”

He smiles, but there’s a hint of sadness in his eyes. “Always. But Y/N ... I want you to know that if you ever decide you want more than friendship, I’m here. I would never hurt you the way Carlos has.”

You feel a flutter in your stomach, a mix of excitement and fear. “Charles, I ...”

He shakes his head, placing a finger gently on your lips. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

You nod, suddenly very aware of how close you are, of the electricity crackling between you. “I should ... I should probably go.”

Charles nods, but makes no move to let you go. “Probably. But do you want to?”

You bite your lip, torn between desire and duty. “I ... I don’t know.”

He leans in, his lips barely brushing your ear as he whispers, “Come up to my room. We don’t have to do anything. We can just talk or watch a movie. But I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

You shiver at his closeness, your resolve weakening. “Charles, I ... what if someone sees us?”

He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. “Let them see. You haven’t done anything wrong. You’re allowed to have friends, to seek comfort when you’re hurting.”

You take a deep breath, knowing that you’re standing on the edge of a precipice. One wrong move and everything could come crashing down. But looking into Charles’ eyes, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence, you find yourself nodding.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Let’s go.”

Charles stands, offering you his hand. You take it, allowing him to lead you towards the elevators. As you walk, you can feel the eyes of other patrons on you, but Charles’ steady presence beside you helps you keep your head high.

In the elevator, you stand close together, the air thick with unspoken tension. Charles’ thumb traces small circles on the back of your hand, sending shivers up your arm.

“Charles,” you say softly as the elevator begins to ascend. “I need you to know ... I’m not using you to get back at Carlos. Whatever happens tonight, it’s because I want it to.”

He turns to face you, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek once more. “I know. And I want you to know that whatever happens or doesn’t happen, tonight doesn’t change anything. I’ll still be here for you tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that.”

You lean into his touch, feeling a sense of peace wash over you for the first time since your fight with Carlos. “Thank you.”

The elevator dings, signaling your arrival at Charles’ floor. He leads you down the hallway to his suite, fumbling slightly with the key card before pushing the door open.

As you step inside, you’re struck by how different it feels from the suite you share with Carlos. Where your room is cluttered with both of your belongings, evidence of your life together, Charles’ suite is neat and minimalist. It feels like a blank slate, a fresh start.

Charles closes the door behind you, leaning against it as he watches you take in the room. “So,” he says softly, “what now?”

You turn to face him, suddenly feeling nervous. “I ... I don’t know. This is all happening so fast.”

He nods, understanding in his eyes. “We can take it slow. Why don’t we sit down, maybe order some room service? We can talk, or not talk. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

You feel a rush of affection for him, grateful for his patience and understanding. “That sounds nice.”

Charles moves to the phone, quickly ordering a selection of snacks and another bottle of wine. As he hangs up, he turns back to you with a shy smile. “I hope you don’t mind, I ordered your favorite.”

You blink in surprise. “You know my favorite wine?”

He shrugs, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “I pay attention.”

You feel your heart skip a beat at his words. How many times had you had to remind Carlos of your preferences?

As you settle onto the plush sofa, Charles takes a seat beside you, close but not touching. “Y/N,” he says softly, “I want you to know that you’re in control here. We don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You nod, feeling a mix of gratitude and desire. “I know. And I appreciate that, Charles. But ...”

He raises an eyebrow. “But?”

You take a deep breath, gathering your courage. “But I think I want to kiss you.”

Charles’ eyes widen, a look of surprise and joy spreading across his face. “Are you sure?”

Instead of answering, you lean forward, pressing your lips to his in a tentative kiss. For a moment, Charles is still, as if he can’t believe this is happening. Then, with a small groan, he responds, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair as he deepens the kiss.

As you lose yourself in the sensation of Charles’ lips on yours, his strong arms pulling you closer, you feel a sense of rightness settle over you. You know that there will be consequences to face tomorrow, difficult conversations to be had. But for now, in this moment, you allow yourself to forget about everything else and simply feel.

When you finally pull apart, both breathing heavily, Charles rests his forehead against yours. “Y/N,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

You smile, running your fingers through his hair. “Me too. I just didn’t realize it until now.”

He pulls back slightly, searching your eyes. “What happens now?”

You take a deep breath, considering your words carefully. “Now ... now we take things one step at a time. I can’t make any promises, Charles. I need to sort things out with Carlos, figure out what I really want.”

He nods, understanding and a hint of sadness in his eyes. “I know. And I’ll respect whatever decision you make. Just know that I’m here, Y/N. Whatever you need.”

You lean in, pressing another soft kiss to his lips. “Thank you. For everything.”

As you settle back into his arms, feeling safe and cared for in a way you haven’t in a long time, you know that whatever the future holds, this night has changed everything. And for the first time in a long time, you’re looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.

***

The soft morning light filters through the curtains, a sliver landing directly on the warming skin of your face. You stir slowly, awareness creeping in as you realize you’re not in your own bed. As your eyes flutter open, you find yourself nestled in Charles’ arms, his steady heartbeat a comforting rhythm against your cheek.

For a moment, panic flares in your chest as you try to piece together the events of the night before. But as memories flood back, you relax, remembering that while you and Charles shared kisses and conversation, nothing more intimate transpired.

Charles shifts beside you, his arms tightening slightly as he wakes. “Good morning,” he murmurs, his voice rough with sleep.

You tilt your head to look up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. “Good morning.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “How are you feeling?”

You take a moment to assess, surprised by the sense of calm that settles over you. “Better than I expected, actually.”

Charles nods, relief evident in his eyes. “I’m glad. I was worried you might regret ... well, everything.”

You shake your head, sitting up slightly to meet his gaze. “I don’t regret anything. Last night ... it made a lot of things clear for me.”

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity and hope warring in his expression. “Oh? What kind of things?”

You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the conversation ahead. “I think ... I think I want to be with you. Not just for a hall pass, not just for one night. I want to see where this could go between us.”

Charles’ face lights up, joy radiating from every feature. But then, just as quickly, concern clouds his expression. “Y/N, as much as I want that — and believe me, I do — what about Carlos?”

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “I need to end things with him. Properly. What he did, suggesting that hall pass ... it was just a symptom of bigger problems in our relationship. I see that now.”

Charles nods slowly, sitting up beside you. “Are you sure about this? I don’t want you to make any rash decisions because of one fight.”

You turn to face him fully, taking his hands in yours. “I’m sure. Last night, talking with you, being with you ... it made me realize what I’ve been missing. The respect, the understanding, the way you actually listen to me. I want that. I want you.”

A smile spreads across Charles’ face, but there’s still a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that. But ... are you sure you want to do this now? Maybe you should take some time, think things through.”

You shake your head, determination setting in. “No, I need to do this now. If I wait, I’ll just be living a lie. Carlos deserves to know the truth, and I ... I want to start this — us — with a clean slate.”

Charles squeezes your hands gently. “Okay. If you’re sure. But I’m not letting you face Carlos alone.”

You blink in surprise. “What do you mean?”

He meets your gaze steadily. “I mean I’m coming with you when you break up with him. I know Carlos, and I know he’s not going to take this well. I want to be there to support you.”

“Charles,” you protest weakly, “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s going to be messy enough without you there.”

He shakes his head firmly. “You’re not asking, I’m offering. More than that, I’m insisting. We’re in this together now. Let me be there for you.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by his support. “Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

Charles leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Always. Now, why don’t we get cleaned up and face this together?”

An hour later, freshly showered and steeled for the confrontation ahead, you stand outside the door to your suite with Charles by your side. Your hand trembles slightly as you raise it to knock.

“Hey,” Charles says softly, catching your hand in his. “It’s going to be okay. I’m right here with you.”

You nod, taking a deep breath before rapping your knuckles against the door. For a long moment, there’s silence. Then, just as you’re about to knock again, the door flies open.

Carlos stands there, his hair disheveled and dark circles under his eyes. His gaze flicks between you and Charles, confusion quickly morphing into anger.

“What the hell is this?” He demands, his voice rough.

You step forward, trying to keep your voice calm. “We need to talk.”

He laughs bitterly, throwing the door wider. “Oh, now you want to talk? After disappearing all night? Come on in, let’s have a nice chat.”

As you and Charles enter the suite, you can’t help but notice the state of disarray. Empty bottles litter the coffee table, and it’s clear Carlos hasn’t slept.

“Have a nice night?” Carlos spits, slamming the door behind you.

You flinch at the sound, but stand your ground. “I’m sorry for leaving like that. But we need to discuss what happened.”

He rounds on you, anger blazing in his eyes. “What’s there to discuss? You used your fucking hall pass, didn’t you? With him?” He jabs a finger at Charles, who remains calm but alert beside you.

“No, Carlos, I didn’t,” you say firmly. “Charles and I talked, that’s all.”

Carlos scoffs, pacing the room like a caged animal. “Oh, you expect me to believe that? You disappear all night, then show up with him in the morning, and I’m supposed to think nothing happened?”

Charles steps forward, his voice level. “She’s telling you the truth. Nothing happened between us last night.”

Carlos whirls on him, fury contorting his features. “Stay out of this, Leclerc. This is between me and my girlfriend.”

You feel anger bubbling up inside you at his possessive tone. “That’s just it. I’m not your girlfriend anymore.”

The room goes deathly silent as your words hang in the air. Carlos stares at you, shock replacing anger for a moment before his face hardens again.

“What did you just say?” He growls.

You stand tall, drawing strength from Charles’ presence beside you. “I said I’m not your girlfriend anymore. I’m breaking up with you.”

For a moment, Carlos looks like you’ve physically struck him. Then, with a roar of rage, he sweeps his arm across the nearest surface, sending glasses and bottles crashing to the floor.

“You fucking bitch!” He shouts, advancing on you. “You sleep with my teammate and then have the audacity to break up with me?”

Charles steps between you and Carlos, his voice low and dangerous. “Back off. Now.”

Carlos sneers at him. “Oh, defending your new whore, are you? How noble.”

You push past Charles, anger overriding your fear. “That’s enough! I told you, I didn’t sleep with Charles. But even if I had, it would have been my right. You’re the one who suggested this stupid hall pass in the first place!”

Carlos laughs bitterly. “Oh, so this is my fault now? I suggest a little harmless fantasy to spice things up, and you use it as an excuse to cheat on me?”

“It wasn’t harmless!” You shout back. “It was hurtful and disrespectful. Did you ever stop to think how it would make me feel, knowing you wanted permission to sleep with other women?”

Carlos runs his hands through his hair, frustration evident in every line of his body. “It wasn’t about that! It was just a game, a fantasy!”

You shake your head, feeling a wave of sadness wash over you. “That’s the problem. Our relationship isn’t a game. It’s not something to be risked on a whim. And the fact that you don’t understand that ... it just proves we’re not right for each other anymore.”

Carlos’ anger seems to deflate, replaced by a desperate pleading. “Y/N, please. We can work this out. I’m sorry about the hall pass thing, okay? I was an idiot. But don’t throw away everything we have over one stupid mistake.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes, but you blink them back. “It’s not just about the hall pass. It’s about everything. The way you take me for granted, the way you never really listen to me. I deserve better than that. I deserve someone who respects me, who values me.”

Carlos’ gaze flicks to Charles, understanding dawning in his eyes. “And you think he’s that someone? My teammate? My friend?”

Charles steps forward, his voice soft but firm. “I’m sorry it happened this way. I never wanted to hurt you. But Y/N is right — she deserves better. And I want to be the one to give her that.”

For a moment, you think Carlos might lunge at Charles. But then, to your surprise, he crumples, sinking onto the edge of the bed with his head in his hands.

“How long?” He asks, his voice muffled.

You move closer, but stop short of touching him. “How long what?”

He looks up, his eyes red-rimmed. “How long have you two been ... feeling this way about each other?”

You exchange a glance with Charles before answering. “Honestly? I didn’t realize how I felt about Charles until last night. When he was there for me, really listening and supporting me ... it made me see what I’ve been missing.”

Carlos nods slowly, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “And you, Charles? How long have you been in love with my girlfriend?”

Charles takes a deep breath, meeting Carlos’ gaze steadily. “A while. But Carlos, I swear to you, nothing ever happened between us until last night. And even then, we didn’t sleep together. I respect you too much for that.”

Carlos laughs humorlessly. “Respect me? You’re stealing my girlfriend and you talk about respect?”

You feel a flare of irritation at his words. “He’s not stealing me. I’m not a possession. I’m making my own choice.”

Carlos stands abruptly, moving to the window and staring out at the city below. For a long moment, silence reigns in the room. When he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, defeated.

“Get out. Both of you. I can’t ... I can’t look at either of you right now.”

You take a step towards him, your heart aching despite everything. “Carlos ...”

He whirls around, his eyes flashing. “I said get out! Take your things and go. I’ll have the rest sent to you.”

You nod slowly, knowing that pushing further will only make things worse. As you move around the room, gathering your essential belongings, you feel a profound sadness settling over you. This is the end of a significant chapter in your life, and despite your certainty that it’s the right decision, it still hurts.

Charles waits by the door, a silent, supportive presence. When you’ve finished packing a small bag, you join him, pausing at the threshold to look back at Carlos one last time.

“I’m sorry it ended this way,” you say softly. “I hope ... I hope someday you can forgive us.”

Carlos doesn’t respond, doesn’t even turn to look at you. With a heavy sigh, you step into the hallway, Charles close behind you.

As the door clicks shut, you lean against the wall, suddenly feeling drained. Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“Are you okay?” He asks gently.

You nod against his chest, taking comfort in his warmth. “I will be. It’s just ... it’s a lot.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I know. But you’re not alone. We’ll get through this together.”

You look up at him, managing a small smile despite the turmoil of emotions swirling inside you. “Together. I like the sound of that.”

***

The soft glow of the setting sun filters through the curtains of Charles’ hotel suite, casting a golden light across the room. You sit on the plush sofa, your legs tucked beneath you, a glass of Prosecco cradled in your hands. Across from you, Charles leans against the minibar, his own glass in hand, a soft smile playing on his lips as he watches you.

“What?” You ask, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks under his intense gaze.

Charles shakes his head, his smile widening. “Nothing. I just ... I can’t believe you’re really here. With me.”

You take a sip of your Prosecco, savoring the crisp, bubbly taste. “I’m having a hard time believing it myself. But I’m glad I am.”

Charles moves to join you on the sofa, settling in close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “How are you feeling? After everything that happened with Carlos ...”

You sigh, leaning back against the cushions. “Honestly? I feel ... lighter. Like a weight I didn’t even know I was carrying has been lifted.”

Charles nods, his expression thoughtful. “I’m glad. But I want you to know that I don’t expect anything from you. If you need time, space ...”

You cut him off by placing your hand gently on his arm. “I appreciate that. But I’ve had years of space with Carlos. What I want now is to be here, with you.”

His eyes light up at your words, and he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. As he pulls back, you can’t help but smile at the joy radiating from him.

“You know,” you say, taking another sip of your Prosecco, “I have to admit, I was surprised when you ordered this.”

Charles raises an eyebrow. “The Prosecco? Why?”

You shrug, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “Carlos always insisted on ordering Spanish cava. He said it was better. I never had the heart to tell him I preferred Prosecco.”

Charles looks at you incredulously. “You’re kidding. He never noticed?”

You shake your head. “Nope. I mean, I drank it, of course. But ... I don’t know. It just never seemed important enough to make a fuss over.”

Charles sets his glass down on the coffee table, turning to face you fully. “Y/N, listen to me. Your preferences, your likes and dislikes — they’re important. They matter. You matter.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the sincerity in his voice. “Thank you. That ... that means a lot.”

He reaches out, gently wiping away a tear that has escaped. “It’s the truth. And for the record, I’ve known you preferred Prosecco since that team dinner in Monza two years ago.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. “You remember that?”

Charles nods, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Of course. You lit up when they brought out the Prosecco. Your whole face changed. I’ve never seen someone so happy over a glass of bubbly.”

You laugh, feeling a warmth spread through your chest that has nothing to do with the alcohol. “I can’t believe you noticed that.”

“I notice everything about you,” Charles says softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “I always have.”

You lean into his touch, your heart racing. “Like what?”

Charles’ thumb traces gentle circles on your skin as he speaks. “Like how you always twist your hair around your finger when you’re deep in thought. Or how you bite your lip to hide your smile when you’re trying not to laugh at one of the guys’ bad jokes.”

You feel a blush creeping up your neck, touched by his attention to detail. “What else?”

He grins, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Well, I know you have a secret stash of gummy bears in your purse for long flights. And that you always hum Dancing Queen under your breath when you’re in a good mood.”

You gasp in mock horror. “Charles Leclerc, have you been spying on me?”

He laughs, the sound rich and warm. “Not spying. Just ... paying attention. Is that okay?”

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat at the tenderness in his gaze. “It’s more than okay. It’s ... it’s wonderful.”

Charles leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re wonderful. And you deserve someone who sees that, who appreciates every little thing about you.”

You close the distance between you, capturing his lips in a soft, sweet kiss. When you pull back, you’re both a little breathless.

“Charles,” you murmur, “I think I’m falling for you.”

His face lights up with joy. “That’s good, because I’ve already fallen for you.”

You laugh, feeling lighter than you have in years. “Oh really? When did that happen?”

Charles pretends to think for a moment. “Hmm, probably around the time you yelled at that journalist for asking me stupid questions after my DNF in Canada.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands. “Oh god, I forgot about that. I was so embarrassed afterwards.”

He gently pries your hands away, his eyes shining with admiration. “Don’t be. It was amazing. No one’s ever defended me like that before.”

You shrug, feeling a bit sheepish. “He was being an ass. You didn’t deserve that after the race you had.”

Charles pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “See? That’s what I mean. You care. Deeply and fiercely. It’s one of the things I love most about you.”

You snuggle into his side, reveling in the warmth and safety of his embrace. “You know, it’s funny. I always thought I was happy with Carlos. But being here with you ... it’s making me realize how much I was missing.”

Charles presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Like what?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts. “Well, for one thing, this. Just sitting and talking, really talking. With Carlos, it always felt like we were just going through the motions, you know? Like we were playing the roles of the perfect couple without really connecting.”

Charles nods, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your arm. “I get that. It’s easy to fall into patterns, to stop really seeing each other.”

“Exactly,” you agree. “And it’s not just the big things. It’s the little stuff too. Like ...” You pause, a memory suddenly surfacing. “Oh! Like the flowers.”

Charles raises an eyebrow. “Flowers?”

You sit up, turning to face him. “Yeah. Carlos always sent me these huge bouquets of red roses. Which, don’t get me wrong, were beautiful. But ...”

“But they’re not your favorite,” Charles finishes for you.

You blink in surprise. “How did you know that?”

He grins, looking a bit bashful. “Remember that charity gala in Milan last year? You spent at least ten minutes gushing over the centerpieces.”

You gasp, the memory flooding back. “The peonies! Oh my god, Charles, how do you remember these things?”

He shrugs, his eyes soft as he looks at you. “Like I said, I pay attention. Especially when it comes to you.”

You feel your heart swell with affection. “Well, Mr. Attentive, what else have you noticed about me?”

Charles pretends to think hard, tapping his chin dramatically. “Let’s see ... I know you prefer your coffee with just a splash of milk, no sugar. You always double-knot your shoelaces before a run. Oh, and you have a secret obsession with cheesy 80s power ballads.”

You laugh, playfully swatting his arm. “Okay, now I know you’re making things up. There’s no way you could know about my power ballad addiction.”

He raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Oh really? So if I were to start singing Total Eclipse of the Heart, you wouldn’t immediately join in?”

Your jaw drops. “How ... how did you ...”

Charles grins triumphantly. “Team karaoke night in Singapore. You thought everyone was too drunk to remember, but I wasn’t as far gone as I let on.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Oh god, I’m never going to live that down, am I?”

He gently pries your hands away, his expression soft and sincere. “Hey, no hiding. I loved it. You were so free, so happy. It was beautiful to watch.”

You feel tears prickling at your eyes again, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings. “Charles ...”

He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that have escaped. “Y/N, I want you to know that I see you. All of you. The good, the bad, the silly, the serious. And I love every part of it.”

You lean into his touch, your heart racing. “I’m starting to see you too, Charles. And I ... I think I might be falling in love with what I see.”

His face lights up with joy, and he pulls you in for a deep, passionate kiss. When you finally break apart, you’re both breathless and grinning.

“So,” Charles says, his voice low and husky, “what do you say we order some room service? I’m thinking ... chocolate lava cake for dessert?”

You gasp in delight. “How did you know that’s my favorite?”

He winks, reaching for the room service menu. “I told you, mon cœur. I pay attention.”

As Charles calls down to place the order, you lean back against the sofa, a contented smile playing on your lips. You can’t help but marvel at how different this feels from your relationship with Carlos. With Charles, you feel seen, heard, understood in a way you never have before.

When he hangs up the phone and rejoins you on the sofa, you curl into his side, feeling perfectly at home in his arms. As the night deepens around you, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen kisses, you know that this is just the beginning of something beautiful. With Charles, you’re not just being loved — you’re being cherished, appreciated for every little thing that makes you who you are.

And as you drift off to sleep in his arms later that night, the taste of chocolate and Prosecco still lingering on your lips, you can’t help but feel that you’ve finally found where you truly belong.

***

Carlos stands at the edge of the pit lane, his eyes fixed on the scene unfolding before him. You and Charles are huddled together by the Ferrari garage, laughing and talking animatedly. The sight sends a sharp pang through Carlos’ chest, a mixture of anger, jealousy, and regret swirling in his gut.

He watches as Charles leans in, whispering something in your ear that makes you throw your head back in laughter. Carlos grits his teeth, remembering a time when he was the one to make you laugh like that.

“They look happy, don’t they?” A voice says beside him.

Carlos turns to see Lando standing there, a sympathetic look on his face. “What do you want?” Carlos growls, not in the mood for conversation.

Lando holds up his hands in a placating gesture. “Just checking on you, mate. I know this can’t be easy to watch.”

Carlos scoffs, turning his attention back to you and Charles. “I’m fine. It’s not like I care what she does anymore.”

Even as he says the words, Carlos knows they’re a lie. He does care. He cares so much it feels like he’s being torn apart from the inside.

He watches as Charles pulls out a small package from his pocket, handing it to you with a flourish. Your eyes light up as you unwrap it, revealing what looks like a bag of candy.

“What’s that about?” Carlos mutters, more to himself than to Lando.

Lando squints, trying to get a better look. “Looks like ... gummy bears? Huh, I didn’t know Y/N liked those.”

Carlos feels like he’s been punched in the gut. “She doesn’t,” he says automatically. But even as the words leave his mouth, he sees the way you’re beaming at Charles, popping a gummy bear into your mouth with evident delight.

“You sure about that?” Lando asks, raising an eyebrow.

Carlos doesn’t respond, his mind racing. How had he never known you liked gummy bears? Had you ever mentioned it? Had he ever bothered to ask?

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your laughter again. Charles is holding out his phone, showing you something on the screen. As you lean in to look, Charles’ arm slips around your waist, pulling you close.

Carlos feels his hands clench into fists at his sides. He wants to look away, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes from the scene.

“You know,” Lando says carefully, “maybe you should talk to them. Clear the air.”

Carlos shakes his head vehemently. “There’s nothing to talk about. She made her choice.”

Lando sighs. “Look, mate, I know you’re hurting. But-”

“But nothing,” Carlos snaps. “Just drop it.”

Lando holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I’m here if you need to talk, though.”

As Lando walks away, Carlos continues to watch you and Charles. He sees the way Charles’ hand rests on the small of your back, the way you lean into him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Suddenly, Charles looks up, his eyes meeting Carlos’ across the paddock. For a moment, they just stare at each other, an unspoken tension crackling between them. Then, to Carlos’ surprise, Charles says something to you and starts making his way over.

Carlos straightens, steeling himself for the confrontation. As Charles approaches, he can see you watching anxiously from a distance.

“Carlos,” Charles says, his voice cautious. “Can we talk?”

Carlos crosses his arms, his jaw clenched. “What’s there to talk about?”

Charles sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know this situation is ... complicated. But I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you.”

Carlos laughs bitterly. “Hurt me? You stole my girlfriend. How did you think that was going to make me feel?”

Charles shakes his head. “I didn’t steal anyone. Y/N made her own choice.”

“Right,” Carlos spits. “And I’m sure you had nothing to do with that.”

Charles takes a deep breath, clearly trying to keep his composure. “I won’t deny that I had feelings for Y/N for a long time. But I never acted on them while you were together. Never.”

Carlos scoffs. “Oh, how noble of you.”

“Carlos, please,” Charles says, his voice softening. “I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be. But can’t you see how happy she is?”

Carlos’ eyes flick back to you, standing by the garage and watching them anxiously. He hates to admit it, but you do look happy. Happier than he can remember seeing you in a long time.

“She was happy with me,” Carlos insists, but the words sound hollow even to his own ears.

Charles gives him a sad smile. “Was she? Really? Because from what she’s told me, there were a lot of things you never noticed about her.”

Carlos feels a flare of anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Charles says carefully, “that sometimes we take the people we love for granted. We stop seeing them, really seeing them.”

Carlos wants to argue, to defend himself, but he finds the words sticking in his throat. Because deep down, he knows Charles is right.

“Did you know,” Charles continues, his voice gentle, “that her favorite flowers are pink peonies? Not red roses?”

Carlos blinks, caught off guard. “What?”

Charles nods. “Or that she prefers Prosecco to cava? Or that she has a secret addiction to 80s power ballads?”

With each revelation, Carlos feels like he’s being hit with a fresh wave of regret. How had he missed all of these things? How had he failed to notice what made you, you?

“I ...” Carlos starts, then stops, unsure of what to say.

Charles puts a hand on his shoulder, the gesture surprisingly kind given the circumstances. “I’m not telling you this to hurt you. I’m telling you because I want you to understand. Y/N deserves to be with someone who sees her, who appreciates every little thing about her.”

Carlos nods slowly, the fight draining out of him. “And that someone is you?”

Charles smiles softly. “I hope so. I’m certainly trying to be.”

They stand in silence for a moment, both looking over at you. You’re still watching them anxiously, clearly worried about what they might be saying to each other.

Finally, Carlos speaks, his voice rough with emotion. “Just ... just promise me you’ll treat her right. Better than I did.”

Charles nods solemnly. “I promise. With everything I have.”

As Charles turns to walk back to you, Carlos calls out, “Charles?”

Charles pauses, looking back over his shoulder.

“Thank you,” Carlos says quietly. “For loving her the way she deserves.”

Charles gives him a small, understanding smile before continuing on his way. Carlos watches as he returns to you, sees the way your face lights up as Charles pulls you into a comforting embrace.

As he turns to walk away, Carlos feels a mix of emotions swirling inside him. There’s still pain, still regret, but there’s also a glimmer of something else. Something that feels a lot like acceptance.

He realizes now that he had taken you for granted, had failed to see the beautiful, complex person you truly were. And while it hurts to admit it, he knows that Charles sees all of that and more.

As he makes his way back to his own garage, Carlos makes a silent promise to himself. To pay more attention, to really see the people in his life. Because he never wants to make the same mistake again, never wants to lose someone else because he failed to appreciate them.

And as he glances back one last time, seeing you and Charles walking hand-in-hand, laughing and lost in your own world, Carlos feels a weight lift from his shoulders.

It’s not easy, and it still hurts, but he knows now that this is how it should be. You deserve to be with someone who knows you, truly knows you, inside and out.

And as much as it pains him to admit it, that someone isn’t him. It’s Charles.

With a deep breath, Carlos turns away, ready to face whatever comes next. He’s lost you, but in doing so, he’s gained a valuable lesson. One he won’t soon forget.

2K notes · View notes

nichmeddar · 4 months ago

Text

carlos sainz

i stare at the crash (it actually works) ✷

a cs55 written-smau where . . .

carlos signs with porsche after getting ditched by ferrari only to find himself in a heated rivalry with his new teammate. oh, and did i mention she's also his ex-girlfriend?

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!porsche driver!reader

warnings: it's very long. also, cuss words. a lot of cuss words.

a/n: buckle up your seatbelts because this will take a wild turn wink wink

ᯓ★ PART FOUR: THE GRANDEST MASTERPLAN YET

lando calls for backup . . .

the grid added to their stories!

Golf de Monte Carlo | 8:43 AM

“The fuck is he doing here?”

You have unintentionally thought that one out loud. Lando told you that it would be just the usual gang coming today (a.k.a. the Twitch Quartet plus Lils), so you don't really get why your teammate is here.

"Really, Y/N? No hi, hello, welcome, here's some water because I am absolutely sure you two are parched from the intense heat of the scorching sun?" Lando replies sarcastically as he and Carlos get down from the golf cart parked in front of you.

You roll your eyes at the Brit before throwing a water bottle at him and Carlos that, of course, they both catch. (Drivers and their stupid reaction times.)

"Yeah, Y/N. No kisses on the cheeks?" Carlos playfully adds before unscrewing the bottle cap.

"Oh, I'm sorry Carlos! I totally forgot!" You flash him your prettiest smile. "Do you want it to be from my left fist or my right?"

Charles tries to shut his mouth, but he can't help himself and lets out a giggle. After that incident on the jet, he (aside from Lewis and Nando) is the only person to know what really transpired between the two of you.

You, however, are not enjoying even just a second of this shit. You turn to glare at the Ferrari driver and magically, his laugh somehow turns into a fake cough.

George was the first one to ask a sensible question in minutes. "So, Lan, how do we get on with this exactly?"

Lando, the ever dramatic, claps his hands before replying. "Well, since we are kind of a large crowd, I reckon it would be best if we play in teams, yeah?” he nods, as if he's delivering a presidential speech. ”The teams are gonna be Lily and Alex, you and me, and Y/N and Carlos."

“What about Charles?” you ask. “Can't I be paired with him instead?”

Lando looks around and counts one by one. Two, three, five, six, seven. Damn. They're missing a person to make it even. He clearly hasn't thought his grandest masterplan through.

"Ah, Charles! Well, actually, Charles will play by himself today.”

The Monegasque's face contorted. He pointed at himself. “Me?”

“Yeah! You told me earlier!”

“Eh?”

Lando widened his eyes at the Ferrari driver. Just go with it!

Oh. Charles gets the hint and plays along. "Oh, yeah! You know, I'm in my strong, independent era, that's why!” He smiles right after, proud of himself for pulling it off.

“Well, if that's the case then I'm going home. I'm sorry but if Carlos is my teammate, then I'm not playing,” you announce. It's one thing to be with him on the track. But being with Carlos even in your leisure time? Too much, guys.

Your announcement elicits quite a diverse reaction from the group, including but not limited to:

Carlos rolling his eyes. "As if I want to be your teammate."

Charles sighing. I am a child of divorce.

Alex and Lily whispering quietly among themselves. Do you want to get out of here and just stay in bed with Izzy the whole day?

George trying to eavesdrop on the couple. What is an Izzy?

Lando, however, is calm. Zen-like. He is unmoved, not even one bit.

“Are you sure about that? You haven't even heard of the prize yet," the brit says in an enticing manner, wiggling his eyebrows in the process. Lando may have been caught off guard seconds ago, but he wouldn't allow anyone to fuck up his grandest masterplan yet, no. Not even you. This is the ace in his deck that he absolutely can't wait to deal.

As expected, everyone looks at him in confusion. Even the guys who are part of the quartet that knows about Lando having a grandest masterplan is just as clueless as you.

“What is it?” you ask with both arms crossed, heels tapping the grass in anticipation.

Lando smiles widely. Very, very widely.

“Pole position in Zandvoort, courtesy of Max Verstappen.”

Holy shit.

This time, Lando's announcement elicits quite a diverse reaction from the group, including but not limited to:

Alex cheering inwardly. Good thing I have an amazing girlfriend who just so happens to be a professional golfer.

George groaning loudly. “Hey Albono, can I team up with Lily instead?”

Carlos wanting nothing but to punch a wall at the moment. “I would rather take Lando as my partner.”

You wanting nothing but to punch Carlos at the moment. “I would rather take Lando as my partner.”

Charles, however, is worried about a different thing.

“Hey mate,” he whispers in Lando's ear, “did Max really say that?”

The brit smirks in response, confident of his plan. “He actually hasn't. . . yet.

“But don't you worry a thing, Charlie boy! I'm sure he will, although I specifically need you to ask him."

“Err, I guess I could do that, but I'm not sure how he will agree with such . . . request.”

Lando pats the Ferrari driver's shoulder. “Do you trust me?”

“Honestly? No. But go on.”

“In situations like this, we need to bribe Max with something in exchange for what we want. And, among all of us, you're the only one who has a material worthy enough to offer to the champ."

"I'm not sure I follow," Charles responds.

"The power lies within your phone, Cha! Quick, do you have it with you right now?"

Charles nods and pulls his phone from his pocket.

"Okay, good. Now, can you please open your Instagram? I want you to do something very, very important. . . "

a few moments later, on twitter . . .

an hour later . . .

“Just hit the damn ball!”

You can't help but roll your eyes at your teammate's comment. “Can you shut up for at least five seconds?”

“Santo Niño de Atocha, we've been here for five minutes!”

You fall deaf to the Spaniard's complaint. Sure, you have been "fixing" your position for a while now, swinging the club multiple times but not hitting the ball (yet), shifting your weight from one foot to another, shuffling forward, then backward, then forward again, but hey, you're just preparing for a successful shot!

The rest have already moved ahead, leaving you and Carlos the last pair to be at the tee box. He blames it on you for not striking. You blame it on him for not letting you concentrate.

"Do you want me to help you?"

"Do you want me to swing this at you instead?"

"I'm pretty sure we would have a higher chance of winning if I do so, Y/N."

"I know how to play golf, okay! My ex-boyfriend used to bring me to these places," you snap back as you reposition your golf club, slightly swinging it back and forth to get the position right.

"You mean me?"

Oh. Oh shit, yeah. He's the ex-boyfriend. But hell, he absolutely doesn't need to know that he's that ex-boyfriend.

You stop what you're doing to look at him sideways. "Sainz, I am going to hold your hand while I say this," it's just a little white lie, you swear, "but you're not my only ex-boyfriend." (He's absolutely you're only ex-boyfriend.)

He stares at you with a rather unamused expression, not buying the lie you're trying to sell him.

Still, you frown in his direction, fully committing to the bit. "I'm so sorry to break it to you, but sweet pea, you're not that special." You nod at him a couple of times. It's okay, bud. You're gonna get past this.

Yet Carlos didn't seem to be affected by the jab. He just shrugs his shoulders in response and waves you off, gesturing you to continue what you're supposed to be doing.

Brick. Ice queen or whatever. You shift your focus back to the little white ball perched in front, eyes in slits as you examine it. God. Such a small item to be stressed at. Okay. Just. . . calm down. You have zoomed through circuits at insane, almost ungodly speeds. This is nothing. Just breathe in and breathe out. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

You tighten your grip to the metal rod you are holding as you lift it and coil your body. "Here goes nothing," you mutter under your breath, silently hoping that you're not going to embarrass yourself in front of the cockiest man to have ever walked this land. Then, with eyes closed, you swing your golf club forward, striking the ball.

Except . . . you didn't. You anxiously open your left eye only to see that the tiny white dot of menace is still there where you last saw it.

You hear a snicker behind you. You roll your eyes so far back you see for a split second all the emotions that control your one hell of a brain. "Shut up, Sainz. I don't want to hear a word about it."

"Ay, I wasn't going to say anything!" Carlos answers defensively, arms in the air, his shit-eating grin still plastered on his face. He walks towards his golf bag and pulls out a club. "Although I just have to mention, you definitely called the wrong ex-boyfriend to teach you golf, don't you think?"

Ugh. You slump down the grass beneath you. See? The cockiest man to have ever walked this land!

Golf de Monte Carlo | 2:34 PM

"Where did it go?!"

Your voice echoes through the vastness of the golf course.

Carlos absolutely has no idea.

He shouts back at you. "I absolutely have no idea!"

Why the fuck would you think he'll know where the ball you just hit would go? He shakes his head in disbelief.

He watches you as you walk further down the fairway to look for your golf ball, dragging your golf bag along with you. He already told you earlier to carry it on your back but you replied that 1) your shoulders are already sore from carrying the entire face and personality of the Porsche F1 team and that 2) he should mind his own business.

Unbelievable woman, Sainz thought.

You two are in the green now, where the hole is situated. Both of you are close to finishing the whole game, actually, with this hole being the 18th and last one. Carlos fixes his stance before swinging his golf club with just enough force to send his golf ball towards victory. Finally.

"Hey! Sainz!" he hears you shout. "I can't find it!"

He puts his club back inside his bag before walking towards your direction. "Maybe it got lost in the rough!"

"The what?!"

"See that?" he says as soon as he reaches you. He points at the area that has taller, unkempt grass compared to the one you are standing on. "Considering your golfing abilities, it's highly probable that it went there."

"How am I supposed to get it out then?"

Carlos is surprised that you didn't fire back after his subtle insult. "Eh, just pick it up with your hands."

You absolutely heard that dig but hey, the past four hours with him wasn't actually that bad. Sure, there was bickering here and there, but nothing too serious or personal. For the first time in years, you start to think you're finally coming around regarding the situation you and Carlos are in.

"But isn't that against the rules?"

"Ay, it doesn't matter! You already lost anyways," he reveals as he looks back at the tall flag that marks where the hole is, signaling that his golf ball was already in there.

"What do you m- hey! We're a team here!" you exclaim at him when you realize what he meant.

Carlos scoffs in amusement. So now you claim you two are teammates after your public disdain for him earlier?

"I thought you said you don't want to play when I'm your teammate?" he counters, the hint of bitterness in his voice unintended but clearly evident.

"Really? We just finished the whole thing and you're asking me that question just now?" Wow, so much for thinking maybe you two can finally be civil.

"I'm just saying! I'm simply restating what you said earlier," Carlos defends himself, trying to salvage the conversation and save his ass.

“There's literally no need to bring it up and attack me, though,” you say as you walk away from him and towards the area where your golf ball might have landed. "Stop acting as if you weren't sharing the same sentiments earlier."

Carlos follows you from behind. Point taken. “Okay, I'm sorry,” he pleads, stopping his tracks about a meter from where you are standing. He didn't get a response as you choose to ignore him and instead continue to scour the grass for a circle of white that might be peeking through.

Found it.

"Hey, Y/N. I said I'm sorry."

You hold the golf ball in your hand as you turn to face him, nodding in acknowledgement. "Just. . . next time, don't dig up shit that's already dead and buried. You always do that, you know. It's childish," you say before walking towards your golf bag.

Now Carlos is the one who feels offended. What do you mean I always do that? And childish, me, really? You can't even talk to me without saying a cuss word every five minutes!

Lost in the heat of the moment, Carlos blurts it out before even thinking of it: "Oh yeah? Well, if you really don't want me to dig up shit, then stop doing shit that needs to be buried in the first place."

His words stop you on your tracks. You look back, jaw dropping. “Excuse me? What the fuck is your problem?”

“No, Y/N! what the fuck is your problem?” Carlos fires back, his voice sharp, his frustration spilling over.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know what my problem is,” you snap, your tone cutting. “Because I assure you, you are very well-aware about it!”

Carlos lets out a scoff, crossing his arms defensively. “Really, Y/N? Is this still about Ferrari?”

You don’t respond. Your silence is answer enough.

“Dios mío,” he mutters, exasperated. “That was almost five years ago! Can’t you still not—”

“And so what if it’s about Ferrari?!” you shout, stepping closer as you point a finger at him. “You ruined us just so you could sign with that damn team!”

“God, they already dropped me, Y/N!” Carlos yells, throwing his hands up. “We’re teammates now, for fuck’s sake! Why are you still so affected by it?”

You let out a humorless chuckle, cheeks flushing red with anger.

“Why am I so affected by it? Nice question, Sainz! What if I also signed a contract behind your back and didn’t ask your opinion about it?” you shoot back, your voice rising with every word. “And when you questioned me, I told you you were unsupportive of my dreams, accused you of being jealous, and then left—just disappeared. And a week later, you found out I told the fucking tabloids I'm single now?”

Carlos stiffens, his face paling.

“And then, four years later,” you continue, your voice breaking but relentless, “I show up in front of you and act like nothing ever happened between us?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the anger threatening to consume you. “Is my reaction justifiable now?”

Silence. The tension hangs heavy in the air, suffocating. Carlos looks down, refusing to meet your gaze, his expression unreadable.

“You know, for the record, Carlos,” you say coldly, the words biting, “we are not teammates.”

He looks up, eyes red. “Partners trust each other. You clearly didn’t.”

You turn and start to walk away, each step heavier than the last, leaving him standing there.

“Yeah, we’re not.”

You stop, his words freezing you in place.

“Partners support each other,” Carlos adds, his voice hollow, bitter. “You clearly didn’t.”

He lets out a short, empty laugh, one that carries no humor, only pain. “God, I just really wanted you to be happy for me that time, Y/N.”

A single tear slips down your cheek. Then another. And another. The world around you blurs, your chest tight with the weight of the moment.

He walks away, footsteps fading into the distance.

You stand there, frozen in time.