#sainz!reader

He’d barely made it back before the engineers came swarming to ask questions. He knew they had to, but he couldn’t do it today. Not with the frustration sitting so thick in his chest that he felt suffocated.

So instead of waiting around, he ripped open his race suit, changed quickly into his team shirt and jeans, shoved his phone into his pocket, and slipped out.

No one even looked his way. Everyone’s attention was glued to the screens showing the ongoing race.

Perfect.

He walked fast, head down, hands shoved deep into his pockets. He needed air. He needed something that didn’t smell like fuel or sweat or disappointment.

But as he turned a corner between hospitality units, he collided with something soft.

Or… someone soft.

“Woah—!”

A gasp, the shuffle of shoes against the pavement, and then—

A cup.

A very full cup.

A cup completely full of bacon.

A slice wobbled dangerously at the edge before the person grabbed the cup with both hands.

Oscar blinked. “Uh…”

The girl standing in front of him was beautiful — young, maybe twenty, bright-eyed despite nearly dropping her… breakfast? Snack? Entire meal of bacon?

She quickly looked around, almost panicked, and mumbled, “No, no, not here…”

Oscar stared. “Is that… bacon?”

She shot him a raised eyebrow and an expression that whispered don’t start. But she didn’t answer. Instead, she scanned the paddock again, searching for something.

Oscar instinctively took a half step closer. “Why are you—”

Before he could finish, she grabbed his wrist.

“Come on.”

“What— hey—?” He stumbled after her as she sped toward a cluster of motorhomes, past a stack of tires, and into a narrow shaded area behind a storage tent.

And then Oscar understood.

Because lying there, in the shade, on a folded piece of cardboard, was a cat.

A beautiful grey cat with silver-tipped fur and wide green eyes.

The cat perked up immediately when it saw the girl, tail flicking, ears lifting.

“There you are,” she whispered softly as she crouched down. “Sorry I took so long.”

Oscar froze.

“…You’re feeding bacon to a cat?”

“It likes bacon,” she whispered back, as if this were classified information.

The cat pushed its head into her hand, purring loudly.

Oscar, staring in both confusion and awe, muttered, “Right. Of course it does.”

She broke a piece of bacon and fed it to the cat. The animal nearly swallowed it whole.

Oscar hesitated, then sank down beside her. Every muscle in his body finally loosened for the first time that day.

“Can I…?” he asked quietly, nodding toward the bacon cup.

She handed him a piece without looking. “Go ahead.”

He held it out. The cat sniffed his fingers, hesitated… then ate it gently.

Oscar exhaled. “Okay, that’s actually adorable.”

A tiny smile tugged at her lips. “She’s picky with people. You should be honored.”

“Oh, I am,” he joked softly. “This is the highlight of my day.”

She paused her petting and glanced sideways at him.

“I, uh… sorry about your race.”

Oscar swallowed. “Yeah. Today wasn’t great.”

“You okay?”

He looked at her — really looked — and saw genuine concern. Not the press version. Not the team version. Not the performance-analysis version.

Just human concern.

“…I think so,” he said quietly. “Or I will be. Eventually.”

She nodded and continued stroking the cat. “Sometimes things just… break. No warning.”

Oscar huffed a soft laugh. “Yeah. That sums it up.”

They fell into a gentle silence broken only by purring and the soft rustle of bacon.

After a minute, she finally said, “I’m Yn.”

“Oscar.”

“I know,” she smiled.

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Oh? Do you have a list of drivers you give bacon to?”

“No. Just this one.” She scratched the cat’s chin. “And now you, I guess.”

He grinned — the first honest one he’d managed today.

“Yn, you’re quite mysterious,” he said.

“I’m feeding a cat bacon behind a tent,” she replied. “I don’t think that’s mysterious. I think that’s just weird.”

“A weird good,” Oscar said. “A weird that saved my day.”

Her cheeks flushed a soft pink.

They sat there for a while — ten minutes, then twenty, then an hour — talking about everything and nothing. The cat curled up between them, occasionally stretching a paw onto Oscar’s leg or headbutting Yn’s hand.

Oscar didn’t rush the conversation. He didn’t need to. For the first time all weekend, time wasn’t his enemy.

“So,” he asked eventually, “what’s with the bacon? Why not cat food?”

“She doesn’t like it,” Yn replied simply. “I tried. Bacon works.”

Oscar nodded solemnly. “Understandable. I also prefer bacon to cat food.”

Yn giggled — light, sweet, genuine. The sound slid into his chest like sunlight.

He leaned back on his hands. “So. Tell me something else about you.”

“Something else?”

“Yeah. You seem interesting.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even know me.”

“Well, I know you’re nice to cats and run around with bacon cups. That seems like a solid foundation.”

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Okay,” she said. “Hm… I love hummingbirds.”

“Hummingbirds?” Oscar repeated.

“Yes. They’re tiny but fast. Kind of magical.” She traced a circle on the cat’s fur. “And one time I pushed my brother into the pool because he stole my ice cream.”

Oscar laughed. “Was there a fight afterward?”

“Of course.” She grinned proudly. “I won.”

“I’m not surprised.”

She nudged him with her shoulder. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Tell me something nobody knows.”

Oscar pretended to think deeply. “I… learned Japanese in school.”

Yn blinked. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

She stared. “Say something.”

He whispered a soft phrase. Her eyes widened.

“That’s beautiful,” she murmured. “What did you say?”

“That feeding a cat bacon behind a tent is the best thing that’s happened to me today.”

She burst into a laugh that drew an involuntary smile from him.

“And,” he added, “I love red pepper.”

“Red pepper? Like… just red pepper?”

“Yes. It makes everything better.”

Even hours later, Yn teased him about that.

They talked about Australia, about hummingbirds in slow motion, about childhood pranks and favorite songs. They talked about nothing and yet everything. And through it all, the grey cat slept happily between them.

Eventually, Yn stood up and dusted off her knees.

“I should go,” she said reluctantly.

Oscar rose with her. “Will I… ever see you again?”

She paused.

It felt like the world held its breath.

“Yes,” she said brightly. “You will.”

“When?”

“The next time I visit my brother’s garage.”

Oscar frowned. “Your brother? Who’s your brother?”

Yn smiled — wide and amused.

“Carlos.”

Oscar’s brain short-circuited. “Carlos as in— Carlos?”

“Yep.”

“Carlos… Carlos?”

“Yes, Oscar,” she laughed, “Carlos.”

He stared at her.

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.” She leaned in, kissed his cheek — soft, quick, warm — and whispered, “I can’t wait to see you again.”

Then she grabbed the empty bacon cup, called softly to the cat, and walked away, disappearing around the corner with a soft wave.

Oscar stood frozen.

The kiss still tingled on his cheek.

His heart was beating so fast he could hear it.

He sank onto the cardboard where the cat had rested. “Carlos’ sister,” he whispered, dazed. “Oh no.”

The cat returned for a moment, nudging his hand with its head before trotting after Yn. Oscar watched it go, still stunned.

“Carlos’ sister,” he repeated.

He didn’t know whether to panic or smile.

He ended up doing both.

♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤

Rebecca shifts Yn higher on her hip, pressing a kiss into her daughter’s curls. Yn doesn’t respond.

Normally, this would be her favorite part of the day.

“Mi amor,” Rebecca murmurs softly, brushing her thumb along Yn’s chubby cheek. “Look, Carmen’s here.”

Carmen looks up from her coffee immediately, eyes lighting up. “Hola, princesa,” she says warmly, switching to Spanish without thinking. “¿Quieres venir con tía Carmen?”

Yn usually would. Usually, she’d wriggle free, toddle over, climb straight into Carmen’s lap and chatter away in her mix of toddler Spanish and nonsense sounds. But today, Yn only tightens her grip on Rebecca’s shirt, her little face scrunched into a pout so deep it looks practiced.

Her bottom lip trembles.

Rebecca sighs quietly.

“She’s still upset,” she says apologetically.

Carmen reaches out anyway, gently tickling Yn’s foot. “Ay, pobrecita. Still missing Papá?”

Yn sniffles and buries her face into her mother’s shoulder.

Across the table, Lily leans forward, resting her chin in her hands. “That bad, huh?”

Rebecca lets out a small, helpless laugh. “Carlos went to press half an hour ago. You’d think I dropped her off at boarding school.”

“It’s because she’s literally his shadow,” Kika says fondly, sipping her drink. “I swear, I’ve never seen a child more attached.”

“That’s an understatement,” Rebecca replies.

Yn Sainz, three years old, curly-haired, brown-eyed, stubborn in the exact same way her father is, is not just attached to Carlos. She is glued to him. If Carlos stands, she stands. If he walks, she waddles behind him as fast as her short legs allow. If he sits, she climbs. If he disappears, even for a moment, the world might as well be ending.

Carlos encourages it too much.

He carries her everywhere. On his shoulders through the paddock, balanced on one arm while talking to engineers, perched on his lap during meetings when no one dares to say a word. Yn loves it. Loves being close, loves tangling her fingers in his hair, loves pressing her cheek to his neck and whispering secrets only he is allowed to hear.

Rebecca has learned, over time, that separating them is an emotional operation requiring planning, patience, and usually tissues.

Today was no different.

Carlos had crouched in front of Yn before leaving, holding her tiny hands in his big ones.

“Papá has to go talk for a little bit,” he’d said gently. “I’ll be back, okay?”

Yn’s eyes had immediately filled with tears.

“No,” she’d said firmly, shaking her head. “Papá come.”

“I know, cariño,” Carlos had whispered, pulling her into his chest. “I know.”

Rebecca remembers the way his jaw tightened, the way he’d closed his eyes for a second like physically walking away hurt him. It always does.

Now, sitting at the café, Rebecca feels like she’s carrying half a heartbreak in her arms.

Lily tries next. She slides her chair closer and opens her arms. “Do you want a cuddle with Lily?”

Yn peeks up briefly, eyes red and glassy, considers it, then shakes her head and hides again.

Kika pulls a silly face. Nothing.

Carmen hums a soft Spanish lullaby. Yn sniffles harder.

Rebecca rubs slow circles on her daughter’s back. “She’ll calm down,” she says, though she doesn’t fully believe it. “She just needs time.”

“She’s like a little duckling,” Lily says softly. “Imprinted and everything.”

Rebecca smiles sadly. “Tell me about it.”

Minutes pass. Coffee cools. Conversation continues around them, but Rebecca barely hears it. Yn stays quiet now, not crying, just sulking. The worst kind of sadness. Her arms are locked around her mother’s neck, her head resting heavily against Rebecca’s shoulder like the weight of missing someone is too much for her small body.

Then, suddenly, Yn stiffens.

Rebecca feels it before she sees it.

Yn lifts her head. Her eyes dart past the table, past Carmen, past the street.

“Papá,” Yn breathes.

Rebecca turns.

Carlos is walking toward them.

He’s still in his team polo, sunglasses perched on his head, phone in one hand. He looks tired in that post-press way, shoulders slightly tense, jaw tight, until his eyes land on Yn.

Everything softens instantly.

There is nothing subtle about the way his face changes.

“Hey,” he says, stopping mid-step.

Yn lets out a small gasp, like she’s been holding her breath the entire time.

“Papá!” she squeaks.

Before Rebecca can even react, Yn is wiggling free, practically launching herself out of her arms. She stumbles for half a second, tiny legs moving too fast, and then she’s running.

Carlos drops his phone without caring.

He crouches just in time.

Yn crashes into him, arms flinging around his neck, face burying into his shoulder with a sobby sound that breaks something deep in his chest.

“Hey, hey,” Carlos murmurs instantly, wrapping her up tight. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

Yn clings to him like he might disappear again if she loosens her grip.

“Papá go,” she says shakily.

“I know,” he whispers, pressing his cheek to her hair. “I’m sorry, cariño. Papá’s back now.”

Rebecca watches from her chair, heart aching and melting all at once.

Carlos lifts Yn easily, settling her on his hip. She immediately tucks herself closer, one arm around his neck, the other gripping his shirt like an anchor. Her tears slow, then stop completely, replaced by quiet sniffles and deep, calming breaths.

“Better now,” Carmen says softly, smiling.

Carlos glances up, a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You didn’t,” Rebecca replies gently. “She’s been like this the whole time.”

Carlos looks down at Yn, thumb brushing under her eye. “That bad, hm?”

Yn nods seriously, her face still pressed into his shoulder.

“My poor girl,” he murmurs.

Rebecca stands and steps closer. “Press went okay?”

He exhales. “Yeah. Same questions, same answers.” He pauses, then adds quietly, “I hated leaving her.”

Rebecca reaches out, resting her hand on Yn’s back. “We know.”

Carlos adjusts his grip, lifting Yn a little higher. She sighs contentedly, like everything is finally back where it belongs.

“I’ll just—” Carlos starts, gesturing vaguely. “I’ll stand here for a bit.”

“No rush,” Lily says with a grin. “Clearly you’re occupied.”

Carlos chuckles softly. “Always.”

Yn peeks up then, eyes still a little puffy, but calmer. She reaches up and gently pulls Carlos’s sunglasses down onto his nose.

“There,” she says, very pleased with herself.

Carlos laughs, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Gracias, mi estilista.”

Rebecca watches them, the way Yn mirrors him even in stillness, how her hand rests on his chest exactly where his would if he were holding someone else, how her legs hook around his waist like muscle memory.

She knows there will be many more moments like this. Many more separations, many more reunions that feel just as intense. It’s hard. Sometimes exhausting.

But standing there, watching her husband sway gently with their daughter in his arms, whispering to her in soft Spanish, Rebecca knows one thing for certain.

Yn has never, ever doubted where she belongs.

♡ liked by badbunnypr, carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 12,394 others

y/nsainz me encanta puerto rico (i love puerto rico)

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user1 my favourite couple

user2 they're so hot together i'm in love with both of them ⤷ user3 definition of bi panic

carlossainz55 ¿más que españa? (more than spain?) ⤷ y/nsainz esto no es una competición (this is not a competition)

user4 everytime i see you two on my fyp i start giggling and kicking my feet

user5 i love you two please don't ever break up

♡ liked by badbunnypr, carlossainz55, scuderiaferrari and 15,384 others

y/nsainz extrañé mi españa (i missed my spain)

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user6 posting that last picture in the same photo dump as ones with your brother is crazy work y/n

user7 that last picture of bad bunny is making me salivate

user8 oh y/n you've really won in life

user9 my heart is aching for a love like y/ns and benitos

user10 y/n including benito in every one of her posts is my kind of love

♡ liked by badbunnypr, carlossainz55, iamrebeccad and 14,948 others

y/nsainz citas nocturnas en españa (date nights in spain)

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user11 couple of the year award goes to y/n and benito

user12 spectacular give me fourteen of them

user13 their love is so beautiful

user14 both of them raw. next question

user15 they compliment each other so well <3

♡ liked by 283,484 people

celebsnews BREAKING NEWS: Y/N Sainz dies in a plane crash.

Click the link in our bio to read more about this article.

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user16 my heart is breaking...

user17 rest in peace y/n, i know you'll bright up heaven the same way you did here on earth

user18 i can't imagine what everyone's families are going through right now

user19 such devistating news, i hope the victims' families are taking their time to cope with their losses

user20 i'm in tears, this is absoluetly awful. we lost an angel way too soon

♡ liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, iamrebeccad and 2.273.948 others

badbunnypr debí tirar más fotos (i should've taken more photos)

With the Spanish Grand Prix underway, the paddock is [first name] Sainz’s to conquer. She toddles along pass the motorhomes as fast as her little legs can, one squeaky step at a time.

Her father, Carlos Sainz Jr., follows her a step behind, eyes simultaneously soft and focused. [First name] may be wearing an outfit that covers the entirety of her legs, but he doesn’t really trust that it’ll save her from scraping them if she falls.

In his humblest opinion, his daughter is a little too young to refuse to walk next to him and hold his hand, but alas. What [first name] wants, [first name] gets.

Carlos almost bumps into [first name] when she suddenly stops and pivots to face the motorhome on her right. "Papa, ca!" She exclaims, pointing excitedly upwards. "Ca! Iiiih!"

He turns to see for himself, only to be hit with the proud and overly familiar Ferrari red. His darling daughter, as it turns out, is captivated by the prancing horse above the door.

He squats next to her. And, like an instinct or another, she moves closer to stand between his bended legs. "Bien hecho, mi amor," he praises, "es un caballo." ["Well done, my love, that is a horse."]

She giggles as he presses a kiss on her cheek. It’s always been the best sound he’s heard, especially when he’s the one who elicits it from her. "Itch too, Papa," she says, moving her stuffie closer for him to kiss.

Naturally, he obliges. "Claro, no podemos olvidarnos de Stitch." ["Of course, we can’t forget about Stitch."] In a fit of inspired parenting, he returns her attention to the building in front of them. He points towards the red walls. "¿Qué color es ese?" ["What color is that?"]

[First name] unconsciously crunches her nose as she thinks. "Jojo," she eventually answers, still not quite able to say rojo properly.

"¿Y Stitch? ¿Qué color es?" ["And Stitch? What color is he?"]

"Asu!" She replies rather quicker — and notably more excitedly. "Bwoo!"

Carlos awards his daughter with another affectionate kiss on her cheek. "Muy bien, mi amor!" ["Very good, my love!"]

She kisses her Stitch plushie this time, very reminiscent of what he just did to her. "Itch es asu."

"Sí, Stitch es azul. Bien hecho!" ["Yes, Stitch is blue. Well done!"]

He sneaks a look at his watch. An idea forms as soon as he sees he still has plenty of time to spare before the team meeting. He scoops [first name] on his way up to straighten his legs. "C’mon, [First name]. We can get some practice in before we have to go back."

In lieu of answering, his daughter makes herself comfortable in his arms. Her own are securely around her precious stuffie.

Her eyes wander as he proceeds their parade across the paddock.

He stops directly in front of the green accents on the Aston Martin motorhome’s wall. "Venga, mi amor." ["Alright, my love."] He points to the green, "¿Qué color es este?" ["What color is this?"]

"Be’de," she mumbles.

"Eso es. Muy bien, mi amor." ["That’s right. Very good, my love."] He praises. "You’re a genius!"

In response, she giggles once more. His Mamá says she got that from him, but he doesn’t really believe that. But, then again, he doesn’t remember being her age.

Before he can say anything else, [first name] starts wiggling out of his hold. "Down, Papa."

Carlos’ thirty-three months of experience has taught him a lot of things, including his daughter’s cues. "¿Quieres andar?" ["You want to walk?"] He asks for confirmation.

"Sí." ["Yes."]

He obliges, but not before he plants another kiss on her cheek.

And like any other toddler who has mastered the art of walking, [first name] zooms as soon as both of her feet touch the concrete. She doesn’t even give him a chance to ask if she wants to hold his hand while she explores the rest of the paddock.

And, of course, like any other toddler parent, he’s hot on her tail — laser-focused on not losing her in the slowly increasing chaos. He’s starting to regret forgetting the safety tether backpack Nico gifted him when he heard his daughter has learned how to walk.

Her resumed fast toddling eventually leads them to the Red Bull motorhome — exactly in front of the halved Red Bull insignia. "Muuu!"

Carlos can’t stop himself from laughing. The mental image of Red Bull’s infamous bulls being replaced with cows is somehow funnier than it really should. "Mi amor, eso no es una vaca." ["My love, that is not a cow."] He miraculously manages to correct between his laugh. "Es un toro." ["That’s a bull."]

To her part, [first name] looks up at him with utter confusion. "Muuu?" She says again, but with less confidence this time — almost as if she’s asking a question.

He wraps up his laughs to make sure she can actually understand him. "No," he starts the correction gently. "Es un toro. Un toro." ["That’s a bull. A bull."] He repeats slowly, carefully pronouncing each syllable on ‘toro.’

She hesitates before following. "Do’o?"

"Sí, eso es. Muy bien!" ["Yes, that’s right. Very good!"] For good measure, he repeats the word — slowly, still. "Toro." ["Bull."]

"Do’o," she copies with more confidence. And more thoughtfully, somehow. He watches as she plays with her Stitch plush’s ear almost absentmindedly. "No muuu."

"No muuu," he echoes in agreement.

[First name] doesn’t seem to like that, based on how she hmphs and turns her back on the painted red bull. Suddenly, she’s no longer captivated — as if her attention is solely dependent on the fact that she thought it’s a cow.

Her small back simultaneously looks disappointed and offended as she waddles away. She doesn’t even spare the Red Bull motorhome another glance.

Carlos follows with an amused shake of his head. His daughter can sure be dramatic at times.

Contrast to how she stopped in her tracks and ran toward the Ferrari and Red Bull motorhomes respectively, [First name] walks by the McLaren motorhome like she doesn’t see it. He can’t really blame her for doing so, as McLaren doesn’t have an animal in its insignia like Ferrari and Red Bull do, but it’s a little funny considering he can see Lando watching from the other side of the glass walls.

He waves to his former teammate before calling her back. "[First name]." He gestures for her to walk back towards him as soon as she responds to her name and looks back, "come."

[First name] turns her whole body around, but stays planted on a spot. She tilts her head slightly. "Why?"

"Tío Lala’s inside."

"Tío Lala?" She echoes. Lando’s name almost becomes a magic word, except she appears to have thought better about her excitement for seeing her uncle again. She ultimately shakes her head. "No."

"No?" He echoes this time, but for a completely different reason than hers: Utter disbelief. "Why not?"

She points behind her, towards the section of the paddock she hasn’t explored, "Itch quiere allí." ["Stitch wants there."]

Carlos makes a conscious effort to ignore the slight pout of her mouth. He hasn’t quite built an immunity to it yet. "¿Stitch no quiere ver a Tío Lala?" ["Does Stitch not want to see Uncle Lala?"]

She makes a sound of realization. It’s clear she didn’t think of it until he asked. It’s further proven when she takes a moment to consider his question.

Unfortunately, her contemplation doesn’t end with his unconsciously desired response. "Des-pués." ["Later."] As it seems, her desire to explore her new environment exceeds her usual excitement about her ‘favorite’ uncle (or so Lando claims he is).

He knows he can very well just usher [first name] into McLaren or carry her in. She’ll only fuss in the beginning, but she’ll ultimately forget about it most likely once she sees her uncle.

But, again: What [first name] wants, [first name] gets.

And he really has nothing against her wishes to explore. His Mamá told him it’s better for her to move a lot so her muscles develop strong.

So he just turns back to Lando to mouth "We’ll come back" before he promptly follows her already retreating form. "Wait for Papá, [first name]."

“And! That’s my cue to mind my business while also… not minding my business.”

He watches Y/N laugh at something Oscar says — and it’s not just a polite giggle. It’s the kind of laugh where she tilts her head back and actually reaches out to touch his arm.

Lando: 👀

[SCENE 2: Little Clues Everyone Missed]

This isn’t the first time. The signs have been there for weeks:

Y/N always sits with McLaren for lunch. Always.

Oscar mysteriously has the exact snacks Y/N likes in his driver room.

During media day, when Y/N was hanging around, Oscar “just happened” to escort her past photographers — standing very close.

The infamous moment when someone caught them whispering during the Monza grid walk.

Fans on Twitter have been speculating for a while, but no one dared to bring it up to Carlos.

Until today.

[SCENE 3: The Wrong Corner at the Wrong Time]

Carlos finishes his meeting and decides to hunt down Y/N to walk her around the paddock — because, again, protective brother duties.

He turns the corner by McLaren hospitality… and stops dead in his tracks.

Y/N and Oscar are there. In a quiet corner. Holding. Hands.

Not like a quick “hi, nice to see you” handhold. No. This is comfortable, fingers intertwined, soft smiles, inside-jokes kind of hand-holding.

Carlos’s brain short-circuits.

Carlos: “…¿Qué… es esto?” Y/N: “…oh no.” Oscar: “…oh no.”

Carlos’s voice jumps an octave.

“¡¿QUÉ CARAJOS, Y/N?! ¡¿Por qué estás con él?! ¡Él es un piloto! ¡Mi colega! ¡Mi hermana no sale con pilotos!”

Translation: “WHAT THE HELL, Y/N?! Why are you with him?! He’s a driver! My colleague! My sister doesn’t date drivers!”

Every head in McLaren hospitality turns.

[SCENE 4: Oscar Piastri’s Worst Nightmare]

Oscar blinks. Swallows. And for the first time in his career, looks more nervous than he did at his rookie debut.

“Carlos, I— it’s not what you think—”

Carlos: “No, no, no. It’s exactly what I think. This is— this is— ¡una traición!” (a betrayal)

Lando, in the background: already filming on his phone

Y/N steps in.

“Carlos, calm down! We’ve been seeing each other for a while and—”

Carlos: “¿Por cuánto tiempo?”

“Since Silverstone…”

Carlos: “¡SILVERSTONE?! That was MONTHS ago!”

Oscar tries again.

“We wanted to tell you, but—”

Carlos: “But you thought it was okay to sneak around behind my back? With my teammate on the simulator roster?”

Oscar: physically sweating

[SCENE 5: The Grid Arrives to Watch the Drama]

Because the paddock is basically a high school cafeteria, it doesn’t take long for other drivers to wander over.

George: “What’s going on?” Lando: grinning “Carlos found out.” George: “…found out what?” Lando: “About Y/N and Oscar.”

George: “Ohhhh.”

Within minutes, Pierre, Charles, Lewis, and even Valtteri are hanging around the McLaren entrance like they’re watching a Netflix drama.

Pierre: “This is better than Drive to Survive.” Charles: “Mon dieu, Carlos looks like he’s going to explode.” Lando: “Shh, I’m getting the whole thing in 4K.”

[SCENE 6: The Meltdown Goes Viral]

Someone (probably Lando) leaks the video online within an hour. The internet eats it up.

@F1teaUpdates: Carlos Sainz confronting Oscar Piastri about secretly dating his sister is the best paddock drama of 2025. #F1 #ProtectiveBrotherEnergy

Clips of Carlos yelling in Spanish and Oscar looking like a deer in headlights get millions of views.

[SCENE 7: The Sit-Down]

Eventually, Y/N drags Carlos and Oscar into a quiet room. No cameras. No onlookers.

Y/N: “Look, I get it. You want to protect me. But I’m not a kid anymore. And Oscar isn’t… you know… terrible.”

Oscar: “…thank you?”

Carlos glares.

“You’re not terrible, but you are a driver. And my teammate. And if you hurt her, I will end you. Politely. But I will end you.”

Oscar nods vigorously. “Understood.”

[SCENE 8: The Grudging Truce]

Carlos eventually accepts it… kind of.

He allows Oscar to join them for lunch, but only after making him sit on the other side of the table.

When the grid teases him about it later, Carlos shrugs.

“I’m just making sure he earns the right to hold her hand in public again.”

Y/N rolls her eyes. “You’re impossible.”

Carlos smirks. “I’m protective. Big difference.”

[EPILOGUE]

A month later, Oscar and Y/N walk into the paddock holding hands. Carlos watches from Ferrari hospitality, muttering,

“I still don’t like it… but at least he treats her well.”

And in the end, that’s all that matters.

…Well, that, and the fact that Lando is still selling “Oscar’s Deadly Ferrari Interview” reaction stickers online.

End.

A/N:If you want, I can also make a Part 2 where Carlos “accidentally” third-wheels all their paddock dates and the grid starts placing bets on when Oscar will finally snap.

Carlos has no clue Lando and I are… In a relationship? It’s unclear but it’s quite fun.

I know I fancy him and he fancies me.

Lando smiles softly at me, the look he gives me that makes my knees go weak.

We make it to the ferrari hospitality and I go straight for the lollis in the corner. I unwrap my favorite flavor, strawberry, and pop it into my mouth while texting.

Carlos and Lando talk rapidly about qualifying and some poor results from other teams. It’s not until Carlos gets pulled away by his manager when I realize that Lando has been staring at me.

I wiggle my fingers at him a bit, Carlos’ back facing me. He smirks a bit as I run my tongue over the candy. I see Lando swallow and decide to be a bit of trouble.

Carlos’ manager leaves and as my brother sits across from Lando, I slip the lollipop into my mouth again.

Lando clears his throat and changes his position, my brother keeps talking as I move my tongue around more.

Lando’s eyes won’t stop flickering to me, Carlos eventually notices and turns around to look at what he’s distracted by.

I fake innocence by watching the f2 cars on the track, “So that Colapinto kid is good huh? Funny, too.”

Carlos stands to join me, Lando follows, “You’ve spoken to him?” my boy asks.

“Mhm. A real flirt.” I see Lando roll his eyes.

Carlos raises a brow, “Seems like the type. Sort of reminds me of a young Lando.” He claps his hand on Lando’s shoulder as Lan eyes me.

“Think he’d go for me?” I ask the two, lollipop in hand.

My brother frowns, “No chance, Y/n.”

“You think he wouldn’t?” Lando asks his friend.

“He definitely would. But you know how I feel about it-”

I mock him as he says the same words, “No dating boys on the grid’ yeah I know.” I sigh, “You never let me have fun.”

Carlos pulls a disgusted look, “I’m sure you’re fine.” I glance at Lando, I definitely am fine. Carlos checks his phone and swears, “I’m so late. I’ll be back soon Y/n!”

Carlos rushes out and Lando is next to me in seconds, “You’re a prick.” he says as the candy goes back in my mouth, “And a tease.” he grabs the candy and tastes it.

“And yours.” I add, this makes him smile proudly.

“I’m going to tell Franco to fuck off.” he leans against me a bit.

“And explain that how? Oh yeah! You’re fucking your best mates sister behind his back and still haven’t asked her to be your girlfriend?” I call him out in one move.

He eyes me, his hand going to my waist before turning to me, “Dinner, tonight? I’ll make you forget Franco.”

I roll my eyes, still smiling at him. I’m about to say yes but the door swings open, Carlos walks in quickly and Lando’s hand is off me in seconds. “Back so soon?” Lando asks.

Carlos grabs his hat from the couch, “Nah, Forgot this.” He does a double take at us and I pray that he doesn’t notice that the lolli in Lando’s mouth has my lipstick on it.

“You alright?” I ask him as he slowly backs away.

“Yeah…” he says suspiciously, “You coming soon, Lan?” Lando nods, stepping away from me and following my brother.

“Bye Y/n!” Carlos tells before practically running out.