#cs

[csainzsgirly]

cs55 - post abu dhabi test

smut (18+) p in v, unprotected sex, ungodly amount of teasing, wearing carlos' shirt (with his initials and him going feral), him fucking you for the first time after the last triple header, carlos deliciousness, cum play

For the first time in months, it was a warm, sandy breeze that woke you up instead of the shrill alarm on Carlos' phone. You could barely get your eyes open at first, burying your face further into the soft pillow. The heat under the duvet was nearly suffocating you, with his warm body sticking against yours, his breath fanning over your neck. You felt yourself drifting off to sleep again already, listening to his soft snores after you had freed yourself from his desert hot embrace, one of your legs tangled in the sheets and finally cooling down. You hum contently, fingers curling into the thin cover as you sunk into a new dream. Your movements had woken Carlos up, and it didn't take long before you felt his big, warm body against your back again. You groaned at the heat, yet the goosebumps rose upon your skin when his lips trailed down the slope of your neck, leaving soft kisses in their wake.

A shiver ran up your spine when he kissed the skin under your ear, his scruff tickling a little. "Amor..." Carlos' voice rasped. "Don't move away from me," he complained, an arm wrapping around your waist to pull you firmly against his chest. "You're so hot," you hum. "Thanks," he replies, not doing anything to put more distance between your bodies. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met," he says, continuing the kisses to your skin, his hand moving under his button-up you're wearing, gliding over your stomach, your ribs, up your chest. It feels so free to know that he doesn't need to be anywhere soon. That you can wake up and spend the morning together, instead of him rushing into the shower and being picked up by Gigi to leave and drive a car on a track somewhere in the world. In the upcoming weeks, he was completely yours.

And you were his.

You were always his, but from his point of view, he didn't show you that often enough.

"I'm so thankful to have you by my side," Carlos speaks up again, his big, brown eyes looking into yours when you turn to face him. His large palm glides from the front of your body to the small of your back, over your ass and finding your bare thigh, lifting your leg over his hip. The corners of his lips curl upwards when you cup his cheek, your thumb rubbing back and forth over his handsome face before moving through his messy hair. "I'm so proud of you, Carlos," you mutter. "And you're going to look so good in Williams blue," you add, making him laugh a little. Your lips connect in the most delicious kiss ever, your arms wrapping around his neck, bodies flush together. You can feel his abs against your stomach, his hands groping at your thighs, pulling you even closer. You moan against his mouth when his hips roll into yours, his body pushing you further into the mattress when he hovers over you, settling between your thighs.

His tongue licks against your lips, fingers disappearing under his shirt once more, thumb flicking over the hard pearls of your nipples. "I missed this," he groans, nipping on your jaw before his head nuzzles into your neck again, a mix of your perfume and body lotion making him dizzy. "I'm sorry I neglected your needs," he apologizes for something he didn't need to apologize for. You understood he needed to fully focus on his last races for Ferrari, especially when the constructors title was in sight. "I intend to fully make it right," Carlos speaks against your skin, looking up at you as his hard cock rests against your inner thigh, covered by a pair of black Calvins. His hair was sticking everywhere, messed up by your fingers. His hands ran over your body, fingers itching to get between your legs, his strong shoulders tensing. The view was enough to ruin your panties. "Mhm," you nod, already losing the ability to speak in full sentences.

He started his slow torture by unbuttoning his shirt that was covering you, fingertips lingering briefly on his initials that were stitched into the front. There was something so territorial about you wearing anything that showed off you were his. Whether it was a shirt with his logo, a cap with his racing number, or a necklace with a simple golden 'c'. He took so long to undress you, you whined in dismay. Carlos kissed the pout on your lips before his mouth drifted to your tits, licking your nipple before sucking it between his lips. His palm kept it warm when he moved to the other, teeth gently scraping over it to make you squirm. You were sure your panties were a sticky mess by the time his fingers were even near the elastic waistband, a sheen layer of sweat covering your forehead and chest. "You're so sexy," he groans as your back arches for him. "Baby, I need you," you huff, the heat between your thighs becoming unbearable.

Without another word, his mouth drops on your lower abdomen, leaving hot, wet, open-mouth kisses over the lace of your thong. Your fingers grip the duvet underneath you as he licks your covered clit, the friction shooting a delicious surge of pleasure up your nerve system. Carlos repeats the action a couple of times before quietly spitting some saliva on your clothed pussy. In combination with your slick, the lace and cotton soon got drenched, sticking to your pussy and outlining it in such a pornographic way. His cock pulsed against the material of his underwear, abs clenching at the sight of your body convulsing when his thumb started to rub circles on your clit through the soaked panties. Two of his fingers simply pushed past the lace covering your cunt to slip inside you. "Fuck..." he cursed under his breath as he felt how slick and warm you were, more of your wetness messing up your panties as he slowly finger fucked you to the most heavenly orgasm.

You knew that nothing could ever compare to the stretch of your pussy around his cock, and while you already felt overstimulated and loosing touch with reality, you couldn't deny the neediness that remained. Carlos' fingers slipped out of you, a string of your stickiness briefly connecting to him before he rubbed it over your sensitive clit. He didn't take any effort to take off your panties now either. He freed himself from his underwear, groaning as he stroked himself once or twice. Your mouth watered at the sight of his fist wrapped around his fat cock, the tip leaking pre-cum, veins bulged up. Your eyes nearly rolled back at the mere thought of having him inside you, but he postponed the moment a little longer as he nuzzled his cock between the lips of your puffy cunt, burying himself under your panties and taking the elastic band into his hand as he started to fuck his fist. Each time his hips rutted forward, his cock slid up your pussy and over your clit, the head bulging under the drenched material of your panties.

Within a couple of seconds the most obscene sounds filled the room as his cock became slick with your juices, the fat tip prodding against your clit. You were on the edge of another orgasm and he wasn't even inside you. Heat rose to your face as you watched his abs contract, his thumb rubbing over the veins of his cock. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen, and while he was incredibly good at making you cum by penetration, the sight of this in combination with the friction on your overstimulated clit was enough to let you spiral into second orgasm. Your thighs trembled, attempting to close around his hand, but he pinned one of them down to the bed as he continued to fuck his fist and bullying your nub of nerves. You watched him cum on you through hooded eyes, moaning at the sight of his body tensing and then releasing in the best way possible. Sticky ropes of cum covered your panties and your pussy, your clit was throbbing from the stimulation.

Carlos barely gave you a second to recover as he pulled your panties aside and gathered his seed with his cock that was still hard. He pushed into you without a warning, filling you up, stretching you out and causing your vision to cloud with dots. All oxygen was sucked out of your lungs as he fucks his cum into you, hovering over you and caging you in to give you something to hold onto. Your nails claw at his back while his fingertips press into your thighs to hold them open, to keep your pussy spread for him while his hips rut into yours mercilessly. "Carlos, it's so good," you manage to blabber. "So good," you breathe. "Yeah? Gonna cum for me again?" his voice rasps in your ear, hot moans and low grunts following. "Missed this pussy, mi reina." He bites into your neck gently, soothing the sting with his tongue. Your ankles lock behind his back, nails digging into his muscled shoulders as white-hot pleasure nearly knocks you out. His cum fills you this time, his cock pushing deeply between your walls before his hips stop moving.

His lips brush over your neck again, kissing your shoulder before his head drops there. A sigh escapes him, a satisfied, spend sigh. Your hand roams over his broad back before it finds his thick hair in the nape of his neck, finally feeling like you're coming down to earth again. Carlos waits a couple of minutes before he pushes himself up, slipping out of you with a soft grunt. He looks at the mess the two of you made, both of you covered with sweat and your mixed juices. "We should get cleaned up, order breakfast and then go again," he proposes with sparkling eyes, massaging your inner thigh before he effortlessly lifts you up. "Sounds perfect, but..." you look up at him as he sets you down on the floor in the bathroom while starting the shower. "Only if you fuck me like that again." Carlos' eyes darken again, fingers tracing your cheek. "I wasn't planning on doing anything else today, mi vida."

[charleslelurk]

baby

[imthebadguyyy]

Fortnight

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

fandom : formula 1

series : the tortured poets department

synopsis : and i love you it's ruining my life.

i was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic...

The champagne had flowed effortlessly at the paddock parties, the kind where Carlos shined brightest—golden smiles, loud laughter, and arms draped casually over shoulders. He was magnetic, so at ease in the crowd that no one noticed you tucked into the corner of the bar, swirling your glass of wine as though the answers might be hidden in its depths.

“You’re keeping to yourself again,” he said softly, his hand brushing the small of your back as he leaned in, warm and familiar.

It was a perfectly Carlos move, disarming in the gentlest way. You’d smiled tightly, masking the bitterness on your tongue, the way the liquor burned a little less than it used to.

“I’m fine. Just a drink.”

His eyes had narrowed, studying you the way he studied telemetry data—looking for what didn’t belong, for what didn’t add up. You’d perfected the act months ago: the polished version of yourself, hair perfect, dress impeccable, the kind of aesthetic that nobody could pick apart—except maybe for the emptiness behind your eyes.

You thought he’d let it slide, as everyone else did. But Carlos never let anything slide.

“When did this become a habit?” he asked, voice quiet but firm.

The question cut deeper than you wanted it to. You turned toward him, defensive. “It’s not a habit. I’m just having fun.”

Carlos shook his head then, his gaze darkening with something you couldn’t name—concern, disappointment, fear. He stepped closer, his presence steady and unwavering, as though he could shield you from the room you no longer felt you belonged in.

“Nobody notices because you hide it well,” he murmured. “But I see it.”

The words hit like a gut punch. It had been easier when nobody noticed—easier to drown out the ache of your failures, the insecurities you carried, the loneliness you swore you’d never let him see.

You blinked up at him, throat tight. “Then why didn’t you say something?”

His expression softened as he reached for your hand, his fingers curling around yours.

“I’m saying something now.”

And just like that, the walls you’d built started to crack. Because Carlos wasn’t the kind of man who took half-measures—on the track or in your life. He was going to pull you back, no matter how much you resisted, no matter how hard it was to let him.

In a room full of people, Carlos had noticed. And for the first time, you weren’t sure whether to fight it or finally let yourself be seen.

all of this to say, i hope you're okay but you're the reason...

The rain tapped lightly against the windows, a soft soundtrack to the silence that had settled between you and Carlos. It wasn’t angry or sharp—there was no yelling, no dramatic declarations, just the kind of stillness that comes when both of you know there’s nothing left to say.

You sat across from him, hands curled around the mug of tea he’d made you, though it had long gone cold. Carlos leaned forward on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze fixed on the floor. He hadn’t looked at you in minutes, maybe hours.

“I hope you’re okay,” you whispered, breaking the silence that had weighed on your chest.

Carlos’s head lifted slightly at that, his brow furrowed. “Why do you say it like that?”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your voice steady. “Because… you’re the reason.”

The words hung in the air, fragile and heavy all at once. His eyes finally met yours then, dark and searching, trying to make sense of the pain laced through your voice.

“The reason?” he echoed quietly, like he didn’t want to believe it.

You sighed, the breath shaky as you tried to explain. “The reason I don’t feel like myself anymore. The reason I sit at dinner tables smiling like everything’s fine when it isn’t. The reason I started to lose pieces of who I am just to fit into a life that was always yours.”

Carlos flinched, barely noticeable, but you caught it. You could tell he wanted to argue, to say you’d been everything to him, that he’d never wanted you to lose yourself—but you’d both played a part in getting here.

“I didn’t mean to…” he started, his voice cracking slightly before he stopped himself.

“I know,” you replied softly. “And maybe that’s what makes it hurt the most.”

For a long time, the two of you just sat there, the room too big, the space between you wider than it had ever been. You didn’t hate him—how could you? He was Carlos, the man you’d once felt so impossibly close to. But somewhere along the way, loving him had started to cost you pieces of yourself, and now it was time to stop paying.

Carlos sat back, running a hand through his hair as he nodded, almost to himself. “I hope you’re okay too.”

You smiled faintly, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “I will be.”

And you meant it. You’d leave the apartment tonight, step out into the rain and let it wash away the ache for just a moment. You’d pick up those pieces of yourself one by one and start putting them back together.

You hoped Carlos would be okay too—but you couldn’t be the reason he was, not anymore.

and for a fortnight there we were, forever...

For your time together, everything felt like it could last forever. The days blurred together in a whirlwind of laughter, late-night conversations, and moments that felt stolen from time itself. It was a kind of magic that seemed to hang between you and Carlos—undisturbed by the world outside, untouched by anything that didn’t fit.

You spent your mornings walking through the city, his hand casually resting in the small of your back as you wandered through streets filled with memories you were only just creating. Nights were spent in the quiet corners of his apartment, sipping wine and talking about everything and nothing.

And for that time, it felt like it was always meant to be. Like the future was a promise sealed in the present, and the world would pause for you both.

Carlos had a way of making you feel seen, understood, like nothing else mattered in the world but the two of you. There were no complications, no distractions—just the warmth of his smile and the quiet peace that settled between you whenever you were together.

But deep down, you knew it couldn’t last. Reality would come rushing back soon enough, and those stolen moments would slip away like sand through your fingers.

But for that time, you had forever.

all my mornings are mondays stuck in an endless february...

All your mornings were Mondays—dull and heavy, an endless repetition of the same hollow routine. The world outside felt stuck in a cold February, as if time had frozen, leaving you suspended in this inescapable loop of grey. Every day felt like the one before, each moment blending into the next, until they all became indistinguishable. The air was thick with the weight of missed opportunities, unspoken words, and the aching emptiness of a love lost.

Since Carlos left, it was as if the world had shifted, and you were no longer a part of it. The apartment felt too quiet now, the silence louder than anything he’d ever said. You’d wake up with the same empty feeling in your chest, as if you had already lost something you weren’t ready to let go of. Coffee tasted bitter, the mornings too long, stretching out in front of you with no end in sight. You moved through each day like a shadow of yourself, existing but not truly living.

You had convinced yourself that you could move on, that you could go back to being the person you once were—the one who could face the world without the weight of the past dragging her down. But the reality was cruel. Every morning felt like the first, and every night was a reminder of how everything had fallen apart. No matter how many hours you spent in the motion of life, nothing ever seemed to shift.

The absence of him haunted you in ways you never expected. His laugh, his warmth, the way he used to look at you as if you were the only one who mattered—they were all ghosts now, whispers in the corners of your mind. The love that once seemed so sure had become a distant memory, leaving you tangled in the “what-ifs” that you couldn’t stop replaying.

You wanted to move on, to shake off this feeling of being stuck in this endless February. But each morning you woke up, the cold air reminding you of how much you had lost, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. It wasn’t just the absence of him—it was the absence of everything you’d built together, of a future you thought you’d have.

And so, you sat there, caught between the ghost of the past and the emptiness of the present, hoping that someday, somehow, the days would finally break free from their endless loop. That one day, you’d wake up to something more than the cold February mornings, but until then, all you could do was survive, counting down the hours in the same painful monotony.

and i love you, it's ruining my life...

He had moved on. It was clear in the way he smiled a little easier, how his laughter came more freely. He was thriving, living his life, and maybe, just maybe, he'd found a place where the ghosts of you didn’t haunt him anymore. He deserved that peace. He deserved everything.

But you? You were still there. Still stuck in the ruins of what you used to be, trapped in a love that was slowly suffocating you. You loved him. You loved him harder than anything, and the intensity of that love felt like a weight on your chest. It was consuming. It was all-encompassing. It was ruining your life.

You tried. You really did. You tried to let go. You told yourself it would get easier. You told yourself that you could move forward. But every time you saw him, every time you thought of him, it was like an ache deep inside you that wouldn’t fade. You wanted to be happy for him, to cheer him on in the life he was building without you. But instead, it hurt. It hurt in ways you couldn’t explain. Because while he had found a way to walk away, you couldn’t stop holding on.

He had released you, but you couldn’t release him. The love you had for him wasn’t just a feeling—it was a part of you, woven into every inch of your being. Even now, when you told yourself to move on, it felt like you were betraying the depth of what you once had. And it wasn’t just emotional—it was physical. Your heart would ache in a way that felt almost impossible to bear, a constant reminder that you were still tethered to him in a way he no longer was to you.

“I love you,” you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of the words, knowing how useless they were. He didn’t need to hear them. He already knew. But it didn’t stop the truth from crashing down on you.

And there it was. The cruel, bittersweet reality: you loved him so fiercely, so completely, that it was ruining you. The love you couldn’t stop feeling for him was the very thing that kept you from moving on, from finding peace in a future without him. While he was free, you were still bound to the past you could never return to.

And all you could do was love him, helplessly, until it consumed you whole.

now you're in my backyard turned into good neighbours...

Now, he was in your backyard, but it didn’t feel the same. Once, you had stood in this very place, side by side, your hearts tangled together in the kind of love that made the world feel smaller, simpler. There had been laughter, stolen moments, and dreams shared between you both that made everything else fade into the background. But that was before everything changed, before the silence grew too loud to ignore and the distance between you widened in ways you couldn’t stop.

Now, he was just a figure in the distance, smiling with his new life, his new world. You watched from the window as he moved with ease, as if nothing had ever been lost. He waved, the gesture casual, almost practiced, as if the space between you was nothing more than a formality, as if you hadn’t once shared everything. He had moved on, and you… you were still standing in the remnants of what you had, your heart stuck in the past, tangled in the threads of memories you couldn’t seem to untangle.

You were good neighbours now—nothing more. You exchanged polite smiles, the kind of small talk that didn’t carry any weight. Casual hellos, the occasional nod. But those were just walls you both put up, barriers to protect you from the things that still lingered unsaid, the feelings that neither of you dared to confront. You wanted to shout across the yard, to tell him how much you missed him, how much you still loved him, how much you hated this new reality. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. The truth between you had become too heavy to speak aloud, too fragile to be voiced without shattering what little remained.

So, instead, you played the roles of neighbours—comfortable in your silence, pretending that the distance between you was nothing but physical. You both wore the act well, hiding behind polite exchanges, as if that was all you were now. But deep down, you knew it would always be more. You knew that the space between you was never just physical; it was the space left by a love that had once been everything, now fractured and out of reach. And though you both wore the mask of moving on, you couldn’t escape the ache of what you had lost.

run into you sometimes, comment on my sweater...

You’d run into him sometimes, usually in places where you never expected to see him—those fleeting moments when the past would rush forward in a flash. The first time it happened, it was in the coffee shop down the street, just a random, ordinary day. He was there, standing by the counter, his eyes meeting yours for the briefest second before he smiled, that smile that once made your heart race.

"Nice sweater," he’d said, his voice light, almost too casual, as if time hadn’t passed, as if you hadn’t once shared everything. You chuckled, the old familiarity settling over you like a soft blanket, both comforting and painful at once. "Thanks," you replied, forcing a smile, unsure if you were the one still clinging to the past or if he was too. The exchange felt like something out of a dream, the kind of thing you couldn’t quite grasp, but you knew it meant more than it appeared.

He had walked away then, just as quickly as he had appeared, leaving you standing there, heart in your throat, caught between the weight of what you had lost and the possibility of something new. You had gone through the motions, the rest of your day a blur, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that those few seconds were enough to remind you of everything that once was—and everything that could never be again.

but it won't start up till you touch, touch, touch me...

You never thought you’d see him again. Not like this. After everything that happened, you’d convinced yourself that the past was best left behind, locked away in a part of your mind you rarely visited. The heartbreak, the unfinished conversations, the goodbyes that were never said—that was a chapter you didn’t need to reopen.

But there he was, standing in front of you, just like it was yesterday. You hadn’t planned on running into him; life had a funny way of throwing things your way when you least expected them. And yet, there he was, as if the years hadn’t passed, as if the weight of the things you’d gone through together hadn’t somehow shaped you into the person you were today.

When you looked at him, it wasn’t just the face you once loved, the smile you could never forget. It was everything—the memories that rushed back in a flood, the stolen moments, the quiet laughter in places only you two knew, the promises that never quite made it out of your mouths. All of it was there, swirling around you, trying to pull you back into the life you thought you had moved on from.

But your heart—your heart wouldn’t start beating again, not with that familiar intensity, not with that same hope, until he touched it. The love you had felt for him once, raw and passionate, had frozen over time, hardened by the distance and the pain. But in his presence, you could feel it again, a flicker, a pulse of something long gone.

You remembered how it had been when he’d first entered your life, how he made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t known were possible. Every touch, every word, every glance was enough to make your heart race. You used to think that nothing could ever tear that apart, that nothing could sever the connection between you two. But then the world got in the way. Things changed. People changed. And what was once so sure became so uncertain.

But as you stood there, facing him now, you realized how much of that old feeling still lingered beneath the surface. It wasn’t just the memories that pulled you toward him; it was the pull of your heart, still waiting, still hoping for something that had once seemed like a forever. You knew it was foolish to want it back, to let yourself be vulnerable again after everything, but it didn’t matter. Your heart wouldn’t start beating again until he touched it—until he showed you, even for a moment, that it hadn’t all been a lie.

The look in his eyes, that flicker of recognition, told you that maybe, just maybe, he felt it too. He reached out, a gesture so simple, yet so heavy with the weight of everything that had passed between you. Your heart skipped a beat. It was tentative, uncertain, but it was enough to wake something inside you.

You had always believed that love could die, that time could erase it, that wounds could heal. But in that moment, with him so close, you realized love wasn’t something that disappeared. It was always there, waiting in the background, waiting for the right moment to make itself known again. And as his fingers brushed against yours, your heart finally started to beat again, not like it once did, but with a renewed hope, a quiet understanding that maybe the past wasn’t as far behind as you thought. Maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance to see what could be.

but it won't start up till I touch, touch, touch you...

Carlos had never been one to admit when he was wrong. He was always so sure of himself, moving through life with a confidence that seemed unshakable. But with you, it was different. Everything had always been different.

He had tried to convince himself that he had moved on, that the past was exactly that—the past. But when he saw you again, standing there with that familiar smile, his heart had betrayed him in the worst way.

It wasn’t supposed to feel like this. You were supposed to be a chapter he had closed, a memory he could visit but never revisit. But as soon as his eyes locked onto yours, everything he’d tried to forget came rushing back. The way you laughed, the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about your dreams—it was all so vivid, so real.

Carlos couldn’t stop himself from reaching out, his fingers brushing the back of your hand as if he were testing the waters. He had to know if the connection, the pull between you, was still there. And when he felt the electricity, the heat rising between you, he couldn’t fight it any longer. He took a step closer, his chest tightening, his pulse quickening. It was as if time had stopped, as if he had been holding his breath since the moment you left.

You stood there, just a few inches apart, and for a moment, he thought he could feel your heart racing too. His own was beating so loudly in his ears that he wondered if you could hear it, if you could sense just how badly he wanted to reach out and touch you. But there was so much hesitation—so much fear that maybe you didn’t feel the same.

And then, before he could stop himself, his hand found your chin, gently lifting it so that you were looking at him, really looking at him. He saw the flicker of something in your eyes, something that matched the longing he had buried deep inside. His heart gave a little lurch.

He closed the space between you, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was soft at first, tentative, as if both of you were trying to figure out if this was real, if it was okay to let go. But as soon as your lips met, he knew. He knew this was right. This was where he was supposed to be.

The kiss deepened, and all the doubts, all the walls he’d built around himself came crashing down. You were still here, still the one who made his heart race, the one who made him feel alive in ways he didn’t know he needed. Every touch, every movement felt like a spark reigniting the flame between you, a flame that had never really gone out.

Carlos pulled away just for a moment, breathless, eyes searching yours for something he couldn’t quite put into words. And then he smiled, that same crooked smile you had always loved. His heart was still pounding in his chest, but now it was a steady, familiar rhythm—the kind that felt like home.

“I think we both knew it never really stopped, did we?” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

You didn’t have to answer. The way you looked at him, the way your heart seemed to beat in sync with his, told him everything he needed to know.

And in that moment, as the world moved around them, he realized this was just the beginning. His heart had started again, and he wasn’t about to let it stop.

i love you...

The sun bathed everything in a warm golden glow as you stood at the end of the aisle, your heart pounding in a way that felt both familiar and brand new. The soft hum of music drifted through the air, but all you could hear was the steady rhythm of your heartbeat—and his. Carlos was waiting for you, his eyes fixed on yours like you were the only person who mattered. And maybe you were.

His smile was soft, a little crooked, the same one that had made your knees weak countless times before. But today, it meant more. It was a promise, a quiet whisper of forever that carried the weight of everything you’d been through to get here.

The moment you reached him, Carlos reached out, taking your hand gently, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. It was such a small gesture, but it grounded you—reminded you that this was real. You’d made it. Together.

The vows passed in a blur. You weren’t sure who spoke first, but every word hung heavy with meaning.

“I promise to love you through everything, to be your partner, your calm in the chaos, your biggest supporter. I don’t think I could ever stop loving you, even if I tried—because you’ve always been a part of me.”

Carlos squeezed your hand, his voice unwavering, steady. “I thought I knew what love was before you. I didn’t. You showed me. I promise to choose you, every day, for the rest of my life. Te amo. Always.”

Your throat tightened as tears threatened to fall, and when it was your turn to say, “I do,” the words came out sure and steady, like they had always been waiting for this moment.

Carlos’s eyes softened, his own filled with a glimmer of emotion he wasn’t trying to hide. When he said, “I do,” it was the sound of a door closing on every doubt, every heartbreak that had ever touched you both.

And then the officiant’s voice lifted into the air—“You may kiss the bride.”

Carlos didn’t hesitate. He stepped closer, cupping your face with a tenderness that made your chest ache. When his lips met yours, the world melted away, just like it always did. His kiss wasn’t rushed, wasn’t just for show—it was a promise in itself, a steady beat of I love you in every touch.

The guests cheered, but it all felt distant. It was just the two of you, standing together, hearts racing in tandem like they had from the very beginning. When you pulled back, breathless, Carlos leaned his forehead against yours, his hands still cradling your face.

“I love you,” he whispered, for you alone to hear.

You smiled, your eyes shining. “I love you, too.”

And as he grinned, wide and beautiful, you realized—this wasn’t the end. This was the beginning of everything you’d ever wanted.

a/n : i know i haven't written or posted in FOREVER life has just been insanely hectic :( hoping to pump out a few fics during a short break i have this month!! hope you enjoy it, and as always, feedback, comments, reblogs etc are always appreciated ❤️

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f1 : @ivegotparticulartaste @moon-enthusiast @superlegend216 @theonly1outof-a-billion

[aquavierra]

My dad told me when we were watching Azerbaijan GP that Carlos hit Perez to save Charles Leclerc so Charles can get the second place. What a theory from a literal shipper ಡ⁠ ͜⁠ ⁠ʖ⁠ ⁠ಡ

[cellularmatter]

end

[epellucid]

[crimewave420]

remember what youre fighting for

[warriorsproject]

Icestar

[camoucrimson]

My moon paw design!! I love her so so much

[whewchilly]

Juanjo Lacalle was the master of two generations of Sainz: navigator for his father Carlos at the beginning of his career, they raced in a Panda, and then shadow for his son Carlitos. He was his godfather at his baptism, he never misses a race on TV.

He was the one who took care of Sainz junior on weekends: “I took him to play football, he was also good with the ball, and in karts. Then I asked him to choose between the two and to explain to me why. “Because I am better at driving” he told me.”

The boy is a quick learner, you can see he is promising. At the German Karting Championship, after four laps he was doing the same times as Nyck De Vries who had been testing there for a week. The boy's father arrived with a worried look and says to me: “You've already raced here, right?” No way. Carlos is meticulous and asks for things that people his age wouldn't even dream of. From his father he inherited the ability to improve the car, from the mechanics he wanted to know point by point every change to the set-up, the tire pressures, because that way he was able to go faster. They were amazed. Among his strong points is his memory, a skill that he further refined in the transition to single-seaters. When he won the Formula Renault, before arriving in F1, he remembered every the set-up he had used. A computer.

The maestro is a river in full flood, he quotes another anecdote from McLaren: “Carlos tries it for the first time, goes back to the garage and says: “I think it has two problems, we could try to solve them like this”. The engineers are surprised, they didn’t expect it from someone who has just arrived. But in the end they decide to listen to him. If McLaren has improved so much it is also thanks to his advice.”

(x)

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

do you realise how skilled a driver needs to be to not only be aware of their own car and tyres and pace, but also every other drivers’ as well? how skilled a driver needs to be to know and remember every driver who’s a threat, and their pace and their tyres and the laps they boxed? how skilled a driver needs to be to strategise your own race and your teammates race, and even be able to manoeuver tricks that aren’t used in f1 car racing much? do you realise how skilled a driver needs to be to fully be aware of every possible outcome of every turn, every lap, judging the car in the front and at the back, all while racing their own race?

do you realise how few drivers can do that?

only one can.

and that’s carlos fucking sainz.

[ln4wins]

Lando Norris congratulating Carlos Sainz on winning the Australian Grand Prix

[attex]

?????????????

[verstappen100]

❤️❤️

[vyrron]

another personal cccat for myself, from a few months ago https://toyhou.se/24463729.enochendo