#(but like. What If It Really Wasn't. that would be terrifying right)

[the-modern-typewriter]

Not an ask, I just wanted to tell you I love, love, LOVE your snippets. It always makes me happy to see a new post by you on my dash, then I know I'm in for a treat. I especially love your villains, they're so much more than just "the bad guy". I always find myself wanting to know more about them, even though they send a chill down my spine and I know I'd be terrified to run into them in a dark alley at night. Thank you for sharing your genius!

"Has anyone ever told you that it's a dangerous idea to walk down dark alleyways alone at night?"

The villain was well-concealed in the crisp evening, leaned slim as a shadow against the wall.

The air stank of a mixture of oncoming snow and the garbage bags piled up and threatening to spill. It wasn't, the hero thought, the sort of place that really suited the villain. They seemed the type best made for pristine conference rooms and expensive penthouse lairs. Spacious. Glittering. Cold, corporate monstrosity.

"Yes," the hero said. "But then I wouldn't have the pleasure of running into you, would I?"

"Is that what this is?"

"You don't think so?"

"I'm always a delight, but few fully recognise that facet of my personality. Most instead, should they choose to see me in a dark alleyway, walk swiftly in the opposite direction."

"Mm." The hero shook their head. "I admit, your general habit of instilling terror in everyone can sometimes overpower other impressions."

"But not with you."

"Oh, I'm crapping myself. Speaking of. If I aim my phone at you so I can see you properly are you going to hiss at me like a feral cat, eyes glinting, and scurry away? Or am I just going to spontaneously combust for daring to look at you? The rumours vary."

"No one would ever dare call me a feral cat, dear."

"Not in as many words. But you are sort of lurking in the shadows and stalking me, so I think its apt."

The villain snapped their fingers. A ball of light appeared shining at the tips, illuminating the few metres between them. None of the usual rats or cockroaches went skittering away from the villain's immaculate shoes, everything was eerily still, so the hero figured they (like most creatures) were smart enough to keep their distance. Vanish somewhere else, if they could. Hold their breath. Hide.

The hero eyed them and resisted the urge to move closer.

The villain offered a soft, mocking, snake-like hiss.

"You wanted to see me," the hero said instead. "At least, I assume that's why you're lurking outside of my workplace and doing the aforementioned stalking routine. You could come inside, you know. I don't bite."

"I do."

"You're not beating the feral cat allegations."

"If I came inside, your colleagues would pass out or start screaming. It would be a whole thing and I'm not working right now."

"Well-" The hero had no good answer to that. 'It would make my shift go faster' was not a good answer. "Anyway. My break is only ten minutes. What do you want?"

"To see you," the villain said. "Talking with you is a debatable experience."

"Wow, rude."

"You followed me out here. I was happy looking."

"Well, I wasn't just going to leave you to it!"

"Most people wouldn't notice."

"Good for most people," the hero huffed. "Do you want an autograph and a picture so you could take it away and maybe the photo would last longer than looking at me?"

"Yes, if you're offering."

The hero stared at them. The villain stared back.

"...I'm not offering," the hero said, after a beat. "God knows what you'd do with my signature."

The villain snorted. Their head tilted as they studied the hero, twirling their fingers idly, making the light shift and cast the world in strange uneasy fragments.

"Come to dinner with me," the villain said, after a long moment. "After your shift."

"I thought talking with me was a debatable experience."

"Yes. And I'm debating."

"Does inviting people to dinner normally work for you after you insult them?"

"Yes."

"Because most people are afraid to say no."

"Yes."

"No."

The villain smiled. At least, in the light, it looked suspiciously like a smile. There and gone in an instant. The hero couldn't tell if it reached the villain's eyes, cast in the alleyway gloom as they still were. It shouldn't have made a thrill run down the hero's spine, but it did.

"Another night," the hero said. "Maybe. When I'm not working."

"You're always working, be it here or in your adorable crime-stopping ways."

"Adorable doesn't win you any points either."

"I'm not trying to win points with you."

"But you're trying to take me to dinner. Why?"

"Novelty. I make a point to invest heavily in my own amusement."

"And I'm amusing you."

"You're...intriguing me. Whether you say yes or no," the villain said. "So entirely up to you if you want the free dinner or not."

"I can afford my own dinner."

"Is that why you're so skinny?"

"Again," the hero said, because the only other option was to be rendered speechless at the villain's audacity. "Rude."

"Politeness is for people too weak to say and do what they like. Dinner on Wednesday then?"

"They say you're horrifying. No one told me you were also insufferable."

"Well, most people are attached to keeping their tongues, so that's not really surprising." The villain continued, waving a dismissive hand, before the hero could possibly respond to that nightmarish gem of a comment. "They say you're generally brave and lovely, but five minutes alone with you already makes it clear that there's something desperately wrong with you or you would never have followed me here."

The hero spluttered.

"Death wish?" The villain asked curiously. "Adrenaline junkie? I didn't think you were especially stupid, but it's hard to tell watching you from the other side of the street."

"You really are something, huh."

The villain flicked the light off their fingers in the hero's direction in response. When the light reached them it didn't hurt, only popped like a bubble against their nose. They were plunged into darkness.

When the hero raised their phone, the villain was off the wall and right there in front of them.

The hero sucked a sharp breath, eyes going wide.

"As are you," the villain said. "Most people would have flinched."

The hero swallowed.

They felt suddenly infinitely aware that the silent darkness was also beneath the villain's power, as much as the light was, swallowing up every inch of space around the two of them one way or another. Who knew what was the villain's and what was just there.

Dangerous to walk down a dark alley indeed, as if it was the dark or the alley that was the real problem.

The hero had never felt so damningly alive.

"Wednesday," the hero said. "Tell me where to meet you."

"It's a date."

The rest of their shift passed in a blur.

[yanderefarm]

tell emil you're bored of him and see what he does lol

alternatively, sneak out of the castle in the dead of night and never return

ON THAT THOUGHT, what would he do if you sleepwalk??? like maybe where you walk to reflects what you want to do but cant, for example sometimes it's to the library because you didnt get to read for like a week

i imagine emil would follow you a bit to see where you go to determine what he should do next day

and then one day it's just you trying to exit the castle, he finally open the door to see and you just walk further and further with no sign of stopping

he would panic so hard lol

i think if you were a really bad sleepwalker who kept trying to leave him he would tie you to the bed tbh. like you're not allowed to leave that's silly.

cw;; violence, yandere tendencies, gore, violence towards reader

pathetic emil step aside we have full yandere mode emil.

"im bored."

"im sorry what was that?"

"im bored. you're boring me."

emil lifted his head from his book and smiled at you a closed practiced smile.

"let me finish this page and i can find something to entertain you."

"no. i mean this is boring. us. you never let me leave, you only care about sex, and i don't have anyone to talk to."

emil's lips twitched.

"im sorry you feel-"

"i want to leave."

he put down his book completely and stared at you intensely. it was a gaze usually preserved for people he wanted dead.

"you don't mean that."

"yes i do."

you got up from the garden chair quickly followed by emil standing up.

"we can go somewhere else. we could go on a vacation. I'll hire you some approved friends."

"no. I've been thinking about this for a while. I'm telling you I'm leaving."

emil's hand came down on the table hard.

"no."

you could see his bright pink eyes darken as his face went blank. you weren't usually scared of your husband but you always knew you had reason to be. right now you certainly were. you tried to bolt for the entrance of the gazebo but all emil had to do was grab your arm with his inhuman strength and you couldn't move.

"emil it hurts..." you tried to whine pathetically but it didn't even reach his ears.

emil kicked you hard on the leg and you stumbled forward almost falling on the ground if not for him holding your arm up.

"i think you've had too much freedom. ive been too nice. i need to fix that."

"no- no- emil i was just joking! it was a joke!"

he looked truly intimidating, not even his signature sadistic smile on his terrifying features.

"you need to remember who loves you."

with his hand still holding your arm he stepped on your leg. you screamed in pain as he pulled your arm as leverage until your leg gave a sickening snap. but that wasn't enough as tears and pain overwhelmed your vision you felt him smash the broken bone with his foot. again. again. aga-

you lost consciousness due to the shock.

when you woke up you were in your shared bedroom but not on the large comfortable bed, instead you were laying on a dog bed with the most horrible pain in your leg while the other was chained to... a cage usually meant for monsters.

[purpurussy]

gay conservatives are so wild yes you are voting against lgbt+ rights if you vote republican. it really is that simple I do not understand what you're struggling to grasp here. and voting for trump while calling yourself a dan and phil fan and expecting 0 pushback is CRAZY... you can't have your cake + vote to eradicate the happiness it had to fight so hard for. to act like you're a victim all of a sudden when you've been the butt of half of dan and phil's jokes this entire time is so ridiculous it would be funny if it wasn't so terrifying

vote Harris and if you can't find the basic human decency within yourself to vote against the "don't say gay/anti drag/book bans/bathroom bills" party then at the very least just stay at home + reflect on the choices you've made in your life which led you to the point of being this fucking stupid

[silkenedstars]

we’re so back!! can we get a yandere sinclair x reader,,, it can be any identity i love all of him

Additional Notes: Yes you can!! This is unedited though so there's going to be a lot of mistakes in this. Sorry for that :(

TW// Blood, limb loss, yandere (this is all that comes to mind rn, lmk if there's anything else I should add)

The loss of your arm had surprising results, the main one being that you no longer had the fanatical haze of nagel und hammer clouding your mind.

There was nothing good out of the pain you felt despite what you've been told by your superiors. You supposed you should be thankful nonetheless, as that very pain was what snapped you back into reality. Though, it was still a terrible experience and you wouldn't wish anything like that on your worst enemy.

Another fortune thing about losing your arm — Wings, that statement by itself was painfully ironic — had to be that no one saw what happened. It was your non-dominant hand too so you were extra lucky. Whatever the Index blindly followed must've been smiling down upon you since you were able to pretend like you didn't lose your arm in the first place. All you had to do was grab the part of your armour that fell off, shake it a little so your severed arm would fall out of it too, then reattach the armour back to your torso and voila! It's as if nothing happened!

...But how would you explain one of your arms not moving? Someone would undeniably notice — The One Who Grips, for sure — and demand for you to take your armour off, revealing that you lost it.

Now that wasn't too bad, people who had their limbs severed were praised by everyone about how human they were and if that was all you had to go through, you definitely wouldn't care.

But you wanted your arm back.

You really really wanted your arm back. Without it, you felt like you were missing a part of yourself— and you were, but it wasn't just a physical feeling. Your joint your arm was attached to ached, your mind was begging for you to flex the muscles of your severed limb, and looking at that very limb sparked only fear and pain within your veins. You didn't feel a connection with it anymore.

And between the constant aching and the severe pain you went through when you lost your arm? The aching was far worse. The pain would go away sooner or later, but the aching would forever follow you as there wasn't a way for you to stop it.

That only meant one thing: you were going to get a prosthetic arm. The quality didn't matter, you just wanted your arm back.

With a sigh, you did what you planned to. The only thing left to do now was to find where you'd get a prosthetic replacement while—

"There you are."

A scream almost escaped your lips as you hastily turned around and kicked off your severed arm behind you.

You cursed inwardly when you saw who was behind you.

"Y- You! It's an honour to m- meet you out here!" you clumsily greeted him. The way he was just staring at you with that angry scowl on his face was nothing short of terrifying.

You didn't think he'd kill you, of course not. But if he ever caught onto what happened to you...

...you couldn't let him find out. Ever.

"...you weren't there during attendance," he took a step, his voice surprisingly soft, "I was worried."

And you're worried for your life right now so that evens outs. That said, why was he even talking to you? Aside from exchanging a few words here and there, you never interacted with him.

"Why? You think a few heretics would be able to take me down?" you teased, forcing a grin upon your lips. "I'm not that weak, you know?"

A small sigh left him. "Still…"

"I'm fine," you insisted, "Look at me. Do I look injured to you?"

Sinclair looked you up and down in response, his eyes settling on your non-existent — or, in his eyes, motionless — arm, just as you feared. Maybe you should've responded with something else instead of making it a point that you were unharmed and uninjured. Wings, why were you so dumb?

Oh, wait, maybe you weren't so screwed after all? He hasn't mentioned your arm so far—

"Your arm isn't moving."

...you jinxed it, of course you jinxed it.

Sinclair took a step towards you, then another until he was right in front of you. He took your empty armour in his hand, his fingers uncharacteristically gently rubbing against the metallic back of it. It was as if he was afraid of injuring you further.

"You're injured," he spoke softly, yet his voice slowly grew into a low growl, "those bastards injured you."

"You have it wrong, I'm not injured!" you insisted again, "It's just that my arm is aching because of how much I had to move my heavy weapon around.

"Then move it right now."

You sucked in a breath, feeling both annoyed and anxious. This better work. "Why should I? Your hand feels nice."

Sinclair froze.

"...H- Huh?!"

His face burst into a violent crimson and he quickly let go of your armour. You only caught sight of his flustered expression for a single second before he looked away and hid his face from you.

You let out a sigh of relief before forcing yourself to grin and poke at his cheek. "What's wrong? Why did you let go of my hand? Yours was so nice, you know~ You meanie.."

You felt his cheek warm up further under your touch before he swatted your finger away.

"Stop that," he demanded with a voice akin to a whine. "Don't act like her."

Was that... a pout?

Well, whether it was one or not didn't matter. What really mattered would be his answers to your questions. "Why did you come here anyway? You could've sent a hammer or two if you were worried about me running away, or a Großhammer to check up on me if you were that worried."

"I..." His expression shifted to the scowl that normally resided on his face, his tone an almost concerned one. "...It would simply get in the way of her plans if you ran off and snitched to those heretics."

Asids from the fact that no one would be able to do anything even if you snitched, something felt off about the explanation he told you. But at the same time, it made sense to personally make sure you didn't do anything stupid. He was the lapdog of that unhinged woman, after all.

"I'd do nothing of that sort," you huffed. "Why would you ever think that someone in our ranks would want to betray here?"

All you wanted to do was get a replacement arm to stop the ghost pains then run off somewhere nagel und hammer wouldn't ever be able to find you at.

"I see..."

You swore you saw him let out a sigh of relief.

"Then, come back with me."

No fucking way.

"I can't," you hastily replied, "not now."

His eyebrows furrowed, the look on his face between irritation and confusion. "Why not."

Yikes! That tone of his definitely meant trouble. You should've rejected him gently earlier.

"Becauseee.. I... uhh.. need to make sure that the heretics here are actually dead and not just pretending they are dead," you tried to explain yourself. "It's hard to tell whether these things are alive or not when they don't feel any pain in the first place, right? They only pretend they feel pain!"

He frowned. "I can do that for you."

"No no no I'll do it myself!" you hastily rejected him, "You should head back anyway! Don't you usually spend time with—"

"Don't bring her up."

You flinched.

"...I'm staying to make sure you don't run off," he said, his voice much more gentle this time, "So don't bring her up again. She knows what I'm doing anyway."

Oh, you were so dead.

"...Alright," you reluctantly gave in. "Come with me then."

"Good."

Despite the scowl still on his face, he looked so pleased with himself as he walked past you.

With a sigh, you followed behind him. How were you going to replace your arm now? You could steal a prosthetic from one of those "heretics", sure, but with Sinclair here...

Well, it wasn't like he knew you lost your arm, so you could probably steal a prosthetic when he looked away.

Yeah... that sounded like a plan. You just hoped that it wouldn't go wrong.

— — — — —

"...They're all dead in this part of the town, too," Sinclair declared. "That leaves only one area."

"D- Does it...?" You had been so distracted on making sure he didn't find out about your plan that you forgot to do the steps in your plan. "Can I take a small break around here? My arm is tired from swinging this hammer around so much.."

"Alright," he nodded, "we'll—"

"No no just me!" you interrupted him, "I don't think you need a break too, do you?"

"Why?" he frowned, but strangely enough, it looked more like a pout.

A pout, huh? His flushed cheeks from a prior moment came to mind. What if...

"Because you're strong, aren't you?" you answered, "You could single-handedly kill an entire town of heretics on your own and you wouldn't even be tired, that's how strong you are!"

"...That's right, but I need to watch over you," Sinclair replied, his cheeks a tint of pink.

"Orr you can watch the area around me instead!" You clasped your hands together and looked at him with the best pleading face you could manage, as well as preparing the most cutesy voice you could. "Please? I need someone really strong like you to make sure the area surrounding me is safe! What if one of the heretics that pretended to be dead earlier has been stalking me this entire time and strikes me down while I'm resting? Please! You're the only person I know who'd be strong enough to kill a potential stalker before they get to me..!"

Word by word, his cheeks took on a pinker shade before he looked away, flustered. "Alright, fine."

Why was that so easy??

"But you better stay here, where I can find you," he quickly added, much to your dismay.

"I'll stay here!" You weren't going to. "Thank you! You're my hero!!"

You managed to catch sight of his face turning red before he quickly turned away and walked off to survey the surrounding areas. And once he was far enough away, you quickly made your way into one of the houses and went inside. While you doubted if you'd be able to return with a new arm in time, you were sure you'd be able to distract him from your disappearance if any of his flustered reactions were anything to go by.

The house itself was mostly empty, the blood and gore within it having mostly dried off by now. The presence of the blood itself brought an unpleasant feeling to you, however.

That could be your blood dried on walls in the future.

You kept looking around the house. It was one that you and Sinclair already went through. At first you were worried because he'd recklessly slam down the axe on any corpse he found before you could even get a look at them, but one corpse was lucky enough to have Sinclair's axe go straight for its neck and have the rest of its body remain intact.

A corpse that had the prosthetic arm that you needed.

Hastily, you made your way through the rooms, internally cursing the architect who designed the layout so confusingly before you eventually found the body you were looking for.

"Oh finally..." you breathed out in relief. "I swear I can't even breathe without him watching me..."

But now that you could breathe without him watching, it was time for you to finally, finally get a new arm.

With a bit of struggle but as quickly as you could, you tore off the armour piece where your arm should've been and kneeled by the corpse.

With all the strength you could muster in your tired arm, you brought down your hammer onto the shoulder of the corpse, freeing the prosthetic arm you needed.

The ends of the metal alloy cracked due to the force but thankfully there wasn't enough damage on the prosthetic to cause you any problems. At least, nothing too serious on the surface.

You grabbed the prosthetic arm and looked over it, sighting. "I didn't even think I'd have to figure out how to attach this thing to myself..."

"What. Are. You. Doing."

You froze.

"S- Sinclair! I—"

He stormed towards you, grabbed your hand and squeezed.

"I- I can—"

"You lied to me," he mourned, "You said you weren't injured."

His eyes strayed towards the prosthetic arm that was in your hold, then at the corpse beneath your feet. "Was it the one that hurt you?" His glare harshened. "The one that ripped off your arm?"

...Huh?

You thought he'd lash out at you for sure, that he'd bludgeon you with his axe.

Was this a way out for you?

"...Yeah.." you nodded, your body shivering from the fate you barely avoided. "I couldn't forget it's face when it took my arm, and the pain wouldn't stop. I had to get revenge somehow, but just killing it wasn't enough. Then you showed up..."

The phantom of your arm wouldn't stop aching.

You wanted to go home.

"I see..."

Wordlessly, he raised his axe above his head.

You let the prosthetic arm go and looked away.

A terrible sound echoed in the room.

Then another.

And then another.

The sound of metal smashing against metal repeated relentlessly until slowly, little by little, the only thing you could hear was the axe hitting the ground.

Then it stopped.

You looked up.

"Sinclair...?"

His chest heaved; out of breath.

He looked at you and smiled much like The One Who Grips.

"Let's go back."

[slaymitchabernathy]

The Nanny

꧁ One Week Later ꧂

Soarynn brings her hands up to her mouth, blowing air onto them in hopes of warming them up. It snowed last night and the children have been itching to explore the fresh blanket of fallen snow since the second they woke up.

The girls giggle while they run around the snow-covered grounds, leaving behind tiny footprints. Soarynn smiles at the sight, doing her best to forget about how terrified she had been a week prior. To forget about the attack.

When they arrived at the Capitol the morning after, they moved silently. No one had been made aware of the conflict that took place in Four and Coriolanus planned on keeping it that way. They exited through the front of the train, heading down a dark maintainence tunnel where a car was waiting for them.

Very few people were told about the attack, such as Quintus Heavensbee and the family doctor who conducted several checks on Soarynn and the children once they were safely inside the President's Mansion. He told her that her nose wasn't broken, only swollen, and that the bruising around her eye would disappear. He also provided some healing salve to speed up the process.

He had offered to test for the possibility of any sexually transmitted diseases but she assured him that nothing had transpired while she was held captive. Part of her wondered if Coriolanus didn't entirely trust her, would he go to such lengths to confirm or deny her claim?

Coriolanus had locked himself away in his study the first day they got back from the trip, goodness knows how much work he would have to do. But he's been acting more...flippant. Asking her how she's doing more often, checking in on her more often, encouraging her to ask the staff for anything she might possibly need. As if she could ever need anything while living with him and his family.

He seems more caring but Soarynn wonders if it's because of the attack or what transpired after. The kiss.

Oh, that kiss has been the bane of her existence. Some of her wishes that she let it go further, that she spent the night in his embrace. But the other half of her is glad she didn't give in to her desires. Even though she really wanted to.

He had come up to her the following day with specific instructions that she could not under any circumstances leave the property with or without the children until he said so. Soarynn had been a bit put off by that order but he explained that no one could see her in this injured state, and he wasn't too keen on letting his children out of his sight at the moment. So, they stayed inside, they could go out onto the grounds so long as they didn't go beyond the fence. It's not like they could with the heightened Peacekeeper presence surrounding the Mansion.

The Snows were on high alert.

Soarynn had asked Eudora if they'd still be throwing the end-of-the-year party and Eudora confirmed that the party was still on as far as she knew. Soarynn hoped it would stay that way, the girls were so excited about it.

"Look Soarynn! I made a snow angel and I'm a Snow!"

Soarynn walks over to Ceraphina who's sitting in the snow, not a care in the world as to how cold it is outside right now. It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get the girls to wear coats, hats, and gloves before they braved the cold but Soarynn insisted that they wear the gloves. Caspian had already thrown his off, he hated the things and Soarynn had given up on making him wear them about an hour ago.

"What a beautiful angel," Soarynn says, giving Ceraphina a nod of approval. Celeste runs between the two of them, her pink scarf flying behind her like a cape. Celeste had insisted on wearing her favorite pink scarf as well, claiming that it was the "perfect accessory."

"There's Daddy," she points, looking up at the large windows overlooking the grounds.

Soarynn looks up as well, her heart beats a little faster when she spots Coriolanus looking down on them. "Wave to your father Cas," Soarynn says, lifting one of Caspian's little arms. Caspian mumbles something about Lenny who was not allowed to come to play in the snow for fear of him getting dirty and buries his head in her neck. Soarynn chuckles, pressing a kiss to his head, "You'll see Lenny soon when you take your nap."

She looks back up at Coriolanus one more time, offering him a wave this time, and to her surprise, he returns it. Another man joins him after a moment, Quintus Heavensbee from the looks of it and he also waves which is a big hit with the girls who gasp and also start waving. "Daddy can see us!" Celeste says, running up to Soarynn and clinging to her leg.

Soarynn nods, tearing her gaze away from the most conflicting man she's ever met to focus on his darling daughter, "He certainly can," she agrees, "and you look so stylish in your winter coat."

Both girls wore light pink coats today to match their hats while Soarynn dressed Caspian in a dark red coat, very similar to one that his father often wears when addressing the nation outside. Soarynn went with a cream-colored coat today, a brave choice while watching three children but she felt it made her look sophisticated. She'd taken off her gloves to hold Caspian better but she was beginning to regret her decision.

If only Caspian enjoyed the snow more. He liked it for about...two minutes. Then he was tugging at her pant leg, asking to be held which she happily obliged to. "Can we go inside can we have hot chocolate?" Ceraphina's question causes Soarynn's stomach to grumble in agreement, "Yes," she answers, "hot chocolate sounds delightful." It really does and then she could put Caspian down for a nap right after.

She had worried that the attack might've had severe psychological effects on the children but they glazed right over it. After losing their mother, perhaps nothing phased them anymore.

It certainly affected her but she was doing a good job at pretending like it didn't.

And she'd keep acting that way until she forgot how it felt to be thrown around, treated like she was nothing. She knew she wasn't nothing, she was just the nanny.

꧁ ꧂

"Does it hurt when I press down?"

Soarynn looks up at the ceiling while the doctor applies a slight pressure to her nose, it doesn't hurt anymore which is a relief. She had worried that her injury might have led to something more severe like a ruptured sinus or a disfigured nose.

"No, it doesn't," she answers.

The doctor hums, pulling his hand away from her face, "Good, it's almost back to normal. By the end of the week, you'll be good as new." Soarynn forces a polite smile onto her lips, fighting the urge to ask if he can prescribe anything to fix the damage that has been done to her on the inside, not the outside.

"Now, let's check on your eye. You haven't been experiencing any vision problems since I last saw you correct?" Soarynn shakes her head while carding a hand through her hair, "No, my vision hasn't been affected by the bruising."

The doctor pulls a tool out of his bag that shines a bright light on her face, "Keep your eye open," he instructs, "I just want to make sure the cornea is still intact." Soarynn has no idea what any of that means but she does as she's told and holds still, even though she can feel her eye beginning to water from the bright light.

Finally, he pulls away from her face and she lets out a breath of relief, "All is well then?" She asks, watching him pack up his things after scribbling down some notes. She wonders if he gives these reports to Coriolanus. He probably does. Nothing happens under his roof without him knowing about it.

"Yes," he confirms with a smile, "you seem to be right on track to a healthy recovery. Just remember, if your eye begins to bother you, use a hot and cold compress and have President Snow give me a call."

"Thank you doctor."

Soarynn watches the man walk out of her bedroom, leaving the doors slightly ajar and she falls back onto her bed, sighing loudly. She's been so tired lately, she hasn't been sleeping well since they got back home. She wonders if this might be some sort of post-traumatic disorder. Maybe she should've mentioned it to the doctor, or has he already noticed and told Coriolanus?

She certainly hasn't been slacking when it comes to her job as a nanny but she knows herself well enough to know that eventually, this will all catch up to her.

Maybe she can get some sleep now that the doctor's gone. She already put the children to bed. Sleep sounds good. Her eyes slowly drift shut and she focuses on breathing in and out, in, and out, in and… "Soarynn? Coriolanus wants to speak with you dear."

Soarynn rolls over to her stomach and groans into the mattress before pushing herself back up, "I'm coming," she calls back, not wanting Eudora to come in and find her like this, sulking and moping about. She slides off the bed, hoping she doesn't look as miserable as she feels before yanking open the doors, "Did he say what he wanted to talk to me about?"

Eudora shakes her head, waving for Soarynn to follow her, "I imagine it'll have something to do with the attack," she muses, leading them to the back staircase, "he's been working on interrogating all the Rebels who took you and the children hostage. You might need to identify some of the men who escaped."

Soarynn's mind immediately goes to Marvin who managed to slip off the boat and swim away unscathed. His friends couldn't say the same. But did they catch him?

"Soarynn?"

Soarynn blinks several times, pulled from her frequent thoughts of District Four, "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Eudora gives her a concerned look from over her shoulder as they make their way down the hallway, "I asked how everything went with the doctor. Did he say anything?"

Soarynn shakes her head, "No, nothing major to report. My nose and eye should be back to normal by the end of the week."

Eudora lets out a sigh of relief, "Well that's good to hear. It'd be a shame if those brutes managed to mark up your pretty face permanently." Soarynn merely hums in reply, both women coming to a stop in front of the ominous doors that lead to Coriolanus Snow's study.

"I'll be in my room should you need anything," Eudora tells her.

Soarynn nods and watches Eudora walk back down the hallway, she's been staying in her honorary bedroom since the attack, swarmed with paperwork and reports to sort through for Coriolanus.

Soarynn gently knocks on the doors, her gut feels like it's been twisted into a knot. "Come in," he calls from the other side.

Soarynn quietly opens the doors, closing them behind her. It's dark in his study, only the fireplace and a few lamps providing him with light as he works.

She slowly approaches his desk, unsure of how to conduct herself with her boss behind closed doors after the last time they were alone together. Coriolanus remains focused on his work, not even sparing her a glance when she sits down. Soarynn absentmindedly drums her fingers against the armrests of the chair, looking up at the ceiling and the carvings that look down on her.

"Your nose looks better."

Soarynn looks back down and across the desk at Coriolanus who sits back in his chair, pen in hand but his attention is now on her, "And your eye," he adds. Soarynn is now hyperaware of her appearance, she had taken off her makeup per the doctor's request and she had planned on trying to sleep right after he left which means she's barefaced once again.

"The doctor said I should be healed up by the end of the week."

"I know," he answers, his blue eyes scanning her face, "he also said that you haven't been getting enough sleep."

Soarynn tenses in her seat, "I never said I wasn't getting enough sleep."

His lips curl up into a smirk and he tilts his head, looking very handsome while doing so, "You don't need to tell him anything. He's a practiced man and he's been staring into your eye for the past few days, he can tell when someone hasn't been getting enough rest. Not to mention it's clear as day to the rest of us."

Soarynn frowns, she's been doing a good job at acting like everything is fine but maybe she hasn't been doing as good as she thought. "I'm fine," she insists, mimicking his relaxed body language, "Eudora said you might ask me about identifying our kidnappers."

Her attempt to switch topics has its intended effect and he drops his smirk and leans forward, adopting the stern persona she's more than used to dealing with by now. "Yes," he shuffles through some papers on his desk, "we apprehended everyone on the beach that wasn't shot on sight but we need you to confirm a few of these Rebels before we proceed."

He slides a file toward her and Soarynn tentatively reaches for it, opening it up to find Marvin's face staring up at her, "This is Marvin," she murmurs, flipping to the next page, finding the face of the man who was shot while trying to jump off looking up at her as well. "And this man was trying to escape," she brings her fingers up to her mouth, remembering how the blood tasted, "I...I saw him get shot. But he's dead now."

She flips through the remainder of the pages but finds no more familiar faces, "Those are the only two I came in contact with," she tells him, placing the file back on the desk, "what will happen to them?"

Coriolanus folds his hands, "I thought about turning them into Avoxes," Soarynn swallows at the casual threat, "but that was too merciful. They'll be executed along with the rest of the Rebels later this week and we'll televise the aftermath to deter any other Districts from trying anything before the year is up."

She sits back in her chair, he says it so casually as if talking about what they'll have for breakfast tomorrow.

"Do you think I should do something else to punish these men?"

Her eyes widen at his question, Soarynn could never conjure up such a punishment, her mind wouldn't allow it. "They said they wanted you to stop the Hunger Games," she recalls, watching his face carefully, "but I guess you won't be doing that."

Coriolanus shakes his head, "I won't be doing that," he confirms, "it's my job to keep the Hunger Games alive."

What a horrible job to have.

"Okay," she says softly, "I trust you to make the right decision."

They both stare at each other for a moment, blue meeting blue-gray. It's like two different oceans crashing against each other. Sometimes, she feels so close to him, other times, she wonders if they're living on the same planet. They've gotten closer but they're still so far away.

Like December and January, so close yet so far.

"How's Petunia doing?"

Soarynn didn't expect him to ask her that, but it gets her mind off of things and she appreciates that, "She's happy to be back in my presence," she says, remembering how excited Petunia had been when Sejanus dropped her off. The girls had been more excited than Soarynn, hugging and kissing Petunia.

Coriolanus hums, "That's good. The stables are done being built."

Soarynn perks up at the good news, "Oh the children will be so excited."

Soarynn had forgotten all about their little agreement to get the children a horse or two to ride and take care of but it’s sure to be a hit. She wonders if each of the children should have their own horse or if just one would be better suited for them at their age. It would certainly teach them to share better.

While Caspian doesn't mind sharing, his sisters certainly do which is rather ironic since they have everything they could possibly need.

Coriolanus studies her for a moment, his eyes lingering on her lips for far too long, "I thought we might discuss what happened on the train," he finally says. Soarynn's breath hitches in her throat, is this when he fires her again? She definitely put her own feelings before the children's. Maybe that kiss was a test and she miserably failed.

"Oh," is all she has to say, her cheeks burning with shame. Coriolanis sighs, running his fingers through his trussed curls. They always look so pristine at breakfast, perfectly styled for another day of work but by the end of the day, they look softer, he looks softer.

"I think we can both agree that emotions were running high," he says and Soarynn nods, there were a lot of emotions on that train, "and we've been dancing around the most pressing topic since we got back," he continues. Soarynn sits up straighter, preparing herself to be fired once again except this time, he has proof. He was there.

His lips on her lips.

"Are you going to fire me?"

Coriolanus looks taken aback at her question, his eyebrows furrowing, "Fire you?"

Soarynn nods, her head hanging in shame, "I crossed a line," she tells him, "the children are the most important thing to me and I let my emotions rule over my decisions."

Coriolanus looks absolutely dumbfounded, so completely and utterly lost. "Soarynn, I'm not going to fire you." She lifts her head, staring into his gorgeous eyes, he truly is a handsome man. "You're not?"

Coriolanus shakes his head and a small smile grows on his lips, "I think the girls might actually kill me if you left again. And I simply wanted to talk about the change in our dynamic." Now Soarynn is the one who looks confused.

"Our dynamic?" She repeats, puzzled by his words. Their dynamic is crystal clear to her. She's the nanny, he's the President of Panem. Simple enough.

"I haven't kissed another woman since Livia," he admits, scratching the back of his neck, "I haven't even looked at another woman since Livia, and yet the second you stepped foot into this house, I haven't been able to entirely focus on my job."

Looks like we're in the same boat, she thinks but she just nods at him to keep going. Coriolanus sighs, "These things can be tricky, I have an insurmountable amount of pressure on me to always be the perfect leader, the perfect boss, the perfect father, but being the perfect partner is something I've always failed at."

"No one is perfect," she tells him softly, "it's impossible to be perfect. Someone will always feel as though you're not doing enough."

That seems to hit him hard as he leans back in his seat, deep in thought. "I enjoyed it," he finally says, looking across at her, "I enjoyed kissing you, holding you. I enjoy being in your presence even though I can tell that you're always on edge around me." He smirks and Soarynn immediately feels flustered and called out.

"Well, well you're the President," she argues, "and my boss. It's natural for me to have a certain degree of nerves. A healthy fear if you will." His smirk drops and Soarynn's heart along with it. Did she say something wrong?

"I've always said that it's better to be feared than loved," he tells her, "when people love you and you love them, they aren't afraid to push back. If people fear you, then they won't risk any pushback. It's the things we love most that destroy us."

Soarynn knows all about that. She loved her father with all her heart and his death absolutely destroyed her. Coriolanus loves his children with all his heart and people took them away from him, used them as leverage against him. But they used her too, which leads her to wonder how he felt about that.

"I don't want you to fear me Soarynn."

Maybe this attack left scars on him too, only on the inside but scars nonetheless. And maybe she'll be allowed to see them someday.

"You want me to love you?"

A pained look crosses his face, a look she's all too familiar with, the look of remembering what once was, what he used to have with another woman that wasn't her. Livia has left scars all over his body.

"I don't think I'm capable of loving anyone outside of my children," he admits, "but, I do think I'm capable of opening up again."

Soarynn can feel her heart beating so fast. It feels so hot in this room all of a sudden. So suffocating.

"Okay," is all she says.

Coriolanus holds out his hand, beckoning her to come over to him, "Come here," he says, calmly and quietly. Soarynn is shaking as she pushes herself from her chair. This is so different from the train. Their dynamic is different. She's dressed differently.

Still, she walks around the desk.

She's never been on this side of his desk but she bets he feels so powerful sitting behind it. He looks powerful now, with his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his legs spread as he turns to face her. She places her hand in his and he wraps his fingers around it, gently pulling her towards him until she's standing in between his legs.

Coriolanus takes his other hand and rests it on her bare thigh, causing Soarynn to draw in a shaky breath. She's never done any of this. Will he teach her or will he expected her to know how things are done in the bedroom? They're not even in a bedroom right now. They're in his study like she's some sweet little secret he doesn't want to get out.

His hand slides up further and further under her nightgown and stops when he reaches her inner thigh, inches away from her covered core. He looks up at her with those blue eyes, clouded with lust and desire. He tugs her forward and she gasps, within one swift motion, she's seated in his lap, essentially straddling him.

His lips are crashing against hers within seconds.

Coriolanus slides both hands under her nightgown, grabbing her waist and he groans. Soarynn whimpers when his teeth gently tug at her bottom lip, this is all so new to her, so new and overwhelming. He is overwhelming. All she can smell is roses.

She doesn't know what to do with her hands so she rests them on his broad shoulders, he feels so strong.

One of his hands slides down her back, resting on her ass and squeezing it. Soarynn moans into the kiss, and goosebumps cover her skin. He pulls away from the kiss only to start kissing up and down her jaw, pressing kisses on her neck as well. Soarynn sighs, staring up at the ceiling again, wondering if this is how all their encounters will go from now on. Secret and rushed.

His other hand leaves her waist, sliding out from under her nightgown to grab her throat. He applies a slight pressure to the sides of her neck and Soarynn gasps, her head feels hazy, her breaths are shortened and she's panicking.

She's remembering.

Remembering what those men said about her. How good she'd feel. How she's the President's whore.

Whore. Slut. The President's little plaything.

Her vision is growing spotty and his lips are getting more aggressive. Soarynn can feel his fingers sliding under the waistband of her panties. She tries to buck his hand off but he must think that she's into this, into him.

"Good girl," he praises, sucking on the tender skin under her ear.

Soarynn squeezes her eyes shut and uses all the strength in her body to shove him back. "Stop," she gasps, opening her eyes again, "stop, please stop." His hands disappear from her body instantly but she still feels like she's being choked, being touched. Touched by them, by those men who talked about fucking her while she was tied up.

Soarynn gasps for air, tears burn in her eyes.

"Soarynn," he starts, his eyes filled with concern and confusion but she's already shaking her head, already trying to get off of his lap.

Everything is so fuzzy and she ends up falling backward onto the floor. Pain shoots through her body but the adrenaline takes over and she pushes herself onto her feet, "I'm sorry," she whispers, shame flooding her voice, "I...I can't."

She rests a hand on the edge of his desk as she walks around it, ignoring his calls for her. She stumbles towards the doors, opening them and welcoming the fresh air.

"Soarynn," he calls again.

She ignores him.

She ignores everything while walking back down the hallway, a million terrible thoughts racing through her mind. She manages to make it to the back staircase and she leans against the banister for a second, catching her breath.

She can still feel his hands on her body and she hates it.

Soarynn grabs onto the railing and pulls herself onto the stairs, making her way up them at a pathetic rate. When she reaches the top, she's out of breath. She wonders what he's thinking, if he's following her, or if he's really going to fire her now that she's truly lost it.

Tears begin to stream down Soarynn's face but she keeps walking, desperate to go to her room and sleep all of this away. She walks past Ceraphina's room and chokes back a sob, she can't believe she made such a foolish risk like that when the children are her main priority.

How could she be so stupid?

When she finally gets to her own room, she slams the doors closed behind her, sinking down onto the floor. Soarynn pulls her knees up to her chest and allows herself to properly cry. Would this all be different if her father hadn't died? If Livia hadn't died? Are they both watching her run around with the President of Panem like she's living in some delusional fairy tale?

Her entire frame trembles as she cries, her gasps echo throughout her room. She's so tired, so exhausted both mentally and physically. When does it all end? The anxiety, the unknown, the battle between her heart and her head?

A soft purring momentarily distracts her from the world falling apart and she looks up from her spot on the floor to find Petunia staring up at her, those eyes identical to her own filled with unending devotion in a world full of conditions. "Oh Petunia," she whispers, "I ruined everything." More tears threaten to spill down her cheeks but Soarynn forces them back.

Coriolanus was right about one thing.

She's not getting enough sleep and she's exhausted. She knows that the lack of sleep isn't doing her or her emotions any favors. "Let's go to bed," she mumbles, reaching out for her loyal feline. Petunia allows her to scoop her up and Soarynn slowly stands to her feet, more stable now that she's had a proper breakdown. She doesn't even get under the covers, she just flops onto the bed and finally, finally gives into sleep.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn wakes up she can hear birds chirping accompanied by the sound of a small person breathing beside her.

She cracks one eye open and finds Celeste watching her intently. "Good morning," she whispers causing Soarynn to smile, she probably looks rough right now but Celeste isn't one to comment on one's outward appearance. That's her sister's specialty.

"Good morning darling," she replies, reaching out to rest a loving hand on her cheek. Celeste leans into her touch and her eyes hold worry and fear, "Daddy said you were sick so you couldn't come to breakfast, are you really sick?" Soarynn swallows, she must've slept through her alarm which means Coriolanus thinks she's avoiding him.

Which she is but that's a hard thing to do in his own house.

At least he came up with a good lie to cover up her absence. She feels bad though, missing breakfast means that either Coriolanus or Eudora had to wake the children up. "I'm not feeling my best," she answers truthfully, sitting up slowly, "but I don't think I'm sick."

Celeste lets out a sigh of relief and nods, "Okay good, I don't want you to get sick like Mommy did."

Soarynn feels her heart break into a million pieces.

She can't imagine the fear and anxiety that the children must deal with whenever the adults in their lives get sick or injured. The slightest cough must send them over the edge and here she is, sleeping through breakfast because she can't handle a bit of intimacy.

Get it together, she chides herself while patting the spot on the bed next to her, "Come sit darling." Celeste smiles at the opportunity to get into someone else's bed and attempts to jump onto the bed but she's still too little so Soarynn swoops her up, making her giggle. "Who woke you up?" Soarynn asks, running a hand through Celeste's curls. She's still dressed in her pajamas which means it's still early in the morning.

Celeste cuddles against her, "Eudora did. Then Daddy let me try some of his coffee but but was so yucky Soarynn." She grins at a very true statement, Soarynn has never been too fond of coffee even though it always smells delicious. Her father would always drink it at breakfast. He'd read the paper while they spent their mornings together, Soarynn preparing for school and her father preparing for work.

She misses those moments.

"At least you tried it," Soarynn tells her, "it's important to try new things." Celeste hums, playing with the hem of Soarynn's nightgown, "Can we go to the park today?" Soarynn wishes they could, the children are beginning to grow stir crazy and she can't really blame them. "Once my eye and nose look better then we can go," she tells Celeste who looks up at her face to assess the damage. "I'm sorry we couldn't help you," she says quietly, her eyes dropping back down.

Soarynn frowns, has Celeste been carrying around this guilt the entire time? And Ceraphina for that matter? Heaven knows what Caspian has been thinking about since they got back home.

Soarynn insistently shakes her head, quick to deter any of these terrible thoughts, "You all were a great help to me, darling. You kept me calm and you helped me when I fell. And most importantly, you listened to me. You all trusted me and I...I," Soarynn feels herself getting choked up but for different reasons this time, "I love you all very much. I can't imagine a world without you children in it."

Celeste's own face reflects the same feeling of endearment, her eyes look so much like his, and yet Soarynn knows exactly where her heart lies.

Coriolanus Snow might be a mystery to her but his children never are.

꧁ ꧂

Later that day, Soarynn finds herself at the Capitol Stables.

This is the last place she expected to be but according to Eudora, Coriolanus wants Soarynn to select the perfect horse for the children. She still hasn't seen Coriolanus since last night but she's perfectly fine with that.

"Did you ever go to the races?" Sejanus Plinth's question pulls her from her faraway thoughts about Coriolanus Snow and back into the present where they're strolling through the Stables, looking at all the horses in their stalls.

"I did," she answers, "my father loved watching the races and I loved the horses." Horse racing is a well-practiced sport in the Capitol, known for its wealthy spectators and expensive bets placed on the horses. During the off-season the Stables are open for people to visit the horses and even purchase one of their own should they choose to do so.

Soarynn has been the arena where the races take place but never the Stables, not until now that is. She didn't know what to expect and since Eudora would be watching the children, she had invited Sejanus to accompany her. She felt safer with someone beside her, and Sejanus had taken such great care of Petunia while they were gone.

Sejanus nods, "They're beautiful creatures," he agrees, "how was District Four by the way?" Soarynn pales a bit at his question, but she recovers smoothly, "It was cold," she answers, "but beautiful. The ocean is a force to be reckoned with."

They stop at one of the stalls where a spotted horse sticks its head out to greet them, "Oh, aren't you a pretty thing?" Soarynn asks, reaching out to scratch its head. They both chuckle when the horse leans out further, just like Petunia asking for pets. "Is there a specific color you're after?" Sejanus asks, resting a hand on its neck. Soarynn purses her lips, she wasn't given any specific instructions as to what to look for but she can imagine that Coriolanus would want something that screams 'The Snow Family.'

"Something white," she decides, giving the horse a pat farewell, "Coriolanus would like that."

Sejanus grins, "First name basis huh?" Her cheeks burn pink as she starts walking again, "You're not funny you know," she says, quickening her pace, "and he insisted that I be on a first-name basis with him." She slows her pace when she comes across a beautiful horse, all white, "Hello there," she greets, gripping the stall door. Sejanus comes up next to her, looking the horse up and down, "I'd say he matches your description, and as for Coriolanus, I'm simply surprised that he insisted. He's been so closed off since Livia."

Soarynn hums, watching the horse slowly walk up to them, its tail flicking behind it, "I know," she murmurs, "and I barely even speak to him as it is. We're both far too busy with our jobs." Lies, lies, lies.

Sejanus looks like he doesn't believe her but she chooses to ignore it. She's been choosing to ignore a lot of things lately.

꧁ ꧂

When Soarynn comes back from the Stables, all three of the Snow children rush to greet her. She must admit, it was nice to leave for a while, see the city again. Eudora had instructed her to apply a liberal amount of makeup to cover up any bruising or swelling and since Sejanus hadn't commented on any of it, she must've done a good job.

"You're back!" Ceraphina says, throwing her arms around Soarynn's legs. Soarynn almost tumbles back but Sejanus prevents that from happening, quickly steadying her, "Where are my hugs huh?" He teases, earning him more excited gasps. The children see Soarynn every day, Sejanus is a rare treat when it comes to visitors.

While Celeste and Ceraphina flock around Sejanus asking him all sorts of questions, Caspian slowly but surely toddles over to Soarynn, holding his hands out for balance. Soarynn grins at the sweet sight, "Come here sweet boy," she croons, bending down to pick him up. She sometimes finds it hard to believe that such a sweet child can exist in a world like this, that evil men had no issue holding up a gun to his head.

It makes her feel even worse about what happened last night.

A week ago she was fearing for her life and now she's having sexual relations with their father. What the hell is wrong with her?

He's probably stressed, she tells herself while watching the girls interact with Sejanus, he just needed to blow off some steam, this'll all blow over by the end of the week.

And it will. She'll work up the courage to talk to Coriolanus about all of this, get their relationship back on a professional track, and move forward.

Simple as that.

"Are you coming to the party Sejanus?" Ceraphina's question reminds Soarynn about the party that they'll be throwing at the end of the year. She's a bit surprised that Coriolanus is still going through with it but at the same time, she understands his need for normalcy and moving forward. If you dwindle in the past for too long, you're bound to be left behind.

And Soarynn refuses to be left behind.

"I am," Sejanus confirms with a nod of his head, "I can't wait to see you two tear it up on the dance floor again." The girls giggle at the memory of the last party they had but it only brings up more sour memories for Soarynn who only remembers how the night ended for her.

She presses a kiss to Caspian's blonde hair, if he hadn't spoken up for her, she might not be in this position right now.

She just doesn't know if that's a bad thing or a good thing.

꧁ ꧂

"Coriolanus, I wanted to discuss what our professional relationship has turned into. We're both adults and I would never want to jeopardize my job for the sake of physical intimacy."

Soarynn nods at her reflection in the mirror, "Just say that and you'll be fine," she mumbles, raking her fingers through her hair. The children are finally asleep and she's getting nervous. She could just go to bed, and pretend nothing happened last night but that would be childish, not to mention highly unprofessional.

As if kissing him while straddling him isn't considered unprofessional.

Still, one must make necessary strides toward things that are important to them. And keeping her job and not abandoning her children is very important to her.

Soarynn takes a few deep breaths before she feels prepared to face him. But it’ll feel like a long walk to his study. That’s fine, she can think about her stupid mentions and their consequences on the way down the hall.

Soarynn quietly opens her doors so she doesn’t somehow wake the children and can’t hide her look of surprise when she sees an Avox waiting outside of her bedroom. The Snows only hire Avoxes to do things such as cleaning and waiting on them so that no private information can be spread.

Soarynn has often shuddered at the thought of losing her tongue. How would she sing and laugh?

She swallows, taking a step back when the placid faced Avox moves towards her, holding out something in their hand. It takes her a moment to realize that it’s a letter. A letter that looks identical to the one she had waiting for her in her closet when she first moved in.

Soarynn takes the letter.

“Thank you,” she says quietly, only getting a silent nod in reply. Well, she can’t expect much.

She closes the doors behind her, the original mission long forgotten as she tears open the letter, breaking the seal with a rose embossed on it.

Her fingers shake as she unfolds the perfectly folded paper.

Soarynn,

You won’t find me in my study tonight, some work related issues have been brought to my attention and as you know, I intend to solve every problem sent my way. As for the growing problem between us, allow me to offer my deepest apologies for any pain I might have caused you. If I moved too fast or hurt you in any way please know that was never my intention.

Despite the internal struggles within our complex relationship, I still find myself drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

You’ll find me to be a terribly possessive man who doesn’t back down from a fight easily. Whenever you’re ready, I trust you’ll know where to find me. Until then, sleep well and look after my children for me.

Yours truly, Coriolanus

Soarynn nearly crumples the letter in her hands. How is it possible for a man to make her feel so many things at once?

He knows what he’s doing, she’ll give him that. But why her? There’s a part of her that still worries this might just be a ploy to get into her pants. The other part, the optimistic part, thinks and hopes that this might be more. That Coriolanus might see her as an equal, as someone to cherish and spend time with.

She just wishes she could figure out which one she’d prefer.

But after reading that letter, it seems she has no choice but to play his little game. It’s fine, she tells herself, thinking about those men who were so easily sniped from the shore, those men whose lives were so easily discarded by Coriolanus.

There are much worse games to play.

| Part 8. |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

꧁| tag list: @lovelylove268 @strawberriicakes @kickmybark @iswearicanfixhim @wonderlandbound111 @melodyoflovee @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead |꧂

[gothamite-rambler]

Jason and Roy being friends and using class of 09 characters (less insane):

*It sucks the creator of this game sucks, but these lines are still funny to me since I treat the game as a comedy*

Jason and Roy sat together having lunch at Burger King and discussing a charity event.

Roy: I'm pretty sure Ollie is running a charity scam.

Jason: No, I looked into the organization he's working with are the scammers. His name wasn't on the board of trustees. He's being scammed and the people running it are probably somewhere in Florida.

Roy (confused): How do you know this much about charities?

Jason (serious): My fucking piece of shit dad—who I want to kill—worked for a charity like that.

Roy (exasperated): Is there—okay, we won't explore that one. Do you really think he's not apart of it?

Jason: I doubt your father is smart enough to run a fake charity. He definitely fell for one though, the company is advertising NFTs on Tiktok. If that's not a scam I don't know what is.

Roy: They're advertising what on where?

Jason: It didn't makes any sense to me. Ollie seems like the type of fall for that though.

Roy: I... Yeah he is. Thanks.

Jason: I just find it funny he's that gullible.

---------------------------------------

Roy (agreeing to breaking into a bank): I'm cool with it.

Jason (shouting): Shut the fuck up!

Roy: I said I’m cool with it!

Jason: Nah, not you. I was hearing the voice again, telling me I'm wrong about something.

Roy: That isn’t even odd to me anymore, but have you tried listening to him?

Jason (chuckling): That’s a funny joke.

---------------------------------------

Jason: Do you know what a whip-it is?

Roy: I never did whip-its.

Jason: You look like the type who would use them.

Roy (happy): Oh, thank you!

Jason: That's strange that you took that as a compliment.

---------------------------------------

Jason: Where’s the coward arrow?

Roy: He hasn’t been around since you made him cry… and stuck to your promise about slashing his tires.

Jason: He better be afraid of me, because I’m not the one.

Roy: Oh yeah?

Jason nodded, a serious look crossing his face.

Jason: I don’t like how he talks to you. You’re really cool and smart. Handsome, I’ll admit—and you should be treated as such.

Roy raised an eyebrow, surprised.

Roy: Wow… that… um… have I really been deprived of a compliment for this long?

Jason: We’re friends. I’m going to be nice to you. Don’t worry about it.

Roy: And you're not trying to sell drugs to me?

Jason: You’re a recovering addict and my friend. No, I’m not going to sell you drugs.

Roy: Then I definitely went through it in life.

Jason: Has your dad ever complimented you?

Roy (laughing dryly): Not for a long… long time.

Jason: ‘Cause he doesn’t appreciate what he has. And seriously, Roy, if I ever see him talk to you like that again, I will rip his beating heart out and hand it to you on a silver platter!

Roy: And you’re not trying to have me relapse and then kill me?

Jason: N-no. I like you. You’re neat.

Roy: Oh… hm… the heart platter part is fucked up, but that’s so kind of you. This not being a ploy and you actually wanting to be my friend is still an adjustment.

Jason: Oh my God… you poor thing, you’re welcome. You make me dying seem like a coma. This is why I will be your friend forever! I will not let anyone hurt you, and if they do… they're gonna meet God!

Jason hugged the man, tightly. Roy patted the man’s back and then shrugged accepting this insane friendship.

Roy: Hm… All right.

---------------------------------------

Jason (paranoid): Spontaneous? Are you talking down to me?

Roy: No, it’s just a word that I read about in… um… Wuthering Heights?

Jason: Oh yeah, that’s a good book. I love you.

Roy: All right… Why did that make me feel happy?

Jason: Because you haven’t heard it in a while, and neither have I. That’s why I said it to you. I love you.

Roy: I… heart… you too.

Jason chuckled and pulled Roy into another hug. Roy smiled, confused, but not terrified. He patted Jason on the back, both appreciating the moment.

"You slashed his tires?"

[kemihaydeestantonva]

Exactly this. And unfortunately, I can't say the same. Like I was trying to be vague in my wording to avoid trauma dumping but I'm tired. TW for death under the cut if you still don't get it by now let me spell it out for y'all.

My friend and roommate died at 28. Not a hand's width away from my face, I literally watched his eyes roll back and the life leave him and I have to live with the knowledge that I probably could have saved him had I acted sooner. I still, to this day, cannot bring myself to tell his mother that I had that window to save him (because at this point what is the use of telling her that, beyond tearing open the wound again?). I don't know how she'd react to that, and that terrified me. I don't think anymore that she would hate me, but I spent nearly ten years holding that knowledge inside myself. Murderer. Bad friend. Ruined so many lives. Should have been me instead.

Can you see how somebody like me would fixate on Blitzø and really connect with how tormented he is over that fire that took his mother? The realization of my worst fears - his family knowing it was his action that caused it, and HATING him for it.

Can you see how dismissing his trauma, or justifying how his family reacted to it might seriously do damage to REAL people that can relate to this part of Blitzø? I have come a very long way since 2013, but if this episode dropped 5 or 6 years ago (and I was able to even watch it without being incredibly triggered), those comments would DESTROY me. I am able to talk about this now in a more productive way, but my story isn't that unique. Horrific accidents happen all the time. Think of how many car accidents happen among young people, how many of those accidents might have been caused by a driver that wasn't thinking in the moment. A kid who left the oven on. Didn't accompany their sibling to the park, and the sibling never came home. Tiny, tiny things that every person could and would do, that have haunting consequences.

Cash and Barbie are not real people. WE are. Somebody out there who heard statements like that or read these comments who isn't as far along in healing as I am might be in a seriously dark place right now. Please be sensitive to how you could be hurting those people.

And to those people - this might not be something you're ready to hear - but you need to give yourself grace. I'm not going to tell you that your actions didn't lead to whatever happened. You know that they did, I'm not going to convince you otherwise. What I want you to know is that had you known the consequences, you would have done all you could to prevent it. Intent MATTERS. You CAN accept your actions and it STILL not be your fault at the same time. You don't know what would have happened if you did this or that. No, shut up and listen to me: YOU DON'T KNOW what would have happened had you acted differently. People love you and care about you, and they do for a reason. None of us are without sin, without blame. It's okay. You don't need to punish yourself. And don't listen to these insensitive folks, they don't know better. If anybody hates you for what happened, please know that they are wrong for that. And yes, that includes you.

I've seen like three separate people saying some really dismissive stuff about Blitzø and the fire, from a flippant comment like "well the fire was an accident but the truth is he DID kill his mum" to the downright gross - and I shit you not - "I can understand why Cash and Barbie would hate him for that"

I just want to remind y'all that while this is a fictional show, accidents like that fire do happen in real life. There are people out here who connect with Blitzø's trauma. Please be mindful of how those comments can come off.

[sciderman]

Sometimes i remember a comics moment i randomly came across somewhere, where Sam Wilson mentiones a musical and Steve Rodgers says he doesn't like musicals, to whitch Sam goes "Guess that means you really are straight" and even tho i don't care about Cap America or the Avengers, the moment stuck in me for that quote by Sam. And like....Sci, any ideas if straight men actually don't like musicals or is that bullshit?

actually i think i know more gay men who hate musicals than i know straight men who hate musicals. i've had a drag queen stop me point blank when i was about to sing a barbra streisand song, and i know so many gays who pointedly hate abba. so based on my experience i think the inverse is true. most of the straight men i know are kind of impartial about musicals, but gay men? hate.

my theory is that a lot of gay men don't want to fall into stereotypes, maybe. but thaaaaat's just a theory! a gay theory.

[novadreii]

rewatched arrival for the hundredth time. this movie never fails to gut punch me with its approach to determinism. louise embracing her future that she knows every moment of, despite the tremendous loss and pain it contains, with open arms. she doesn't hesitate, or ruminate on how she can try and change it. she accepts it all, the good and the bad, because what she gains is worth it, so many times over for her. she steels herself against a certain future and runs forward to meet it all, to love, learn, and lose, and trusts and leans on herself to live through it all. because that's what life is; it's the joy and the suffering. to try and isolate the joy alone is madness, futility in its purest definition.

comparing her line of thinking to a palindrome (how she named her daughter, hannah), the movie kept emphasizing, "it's the same backwards as it is forwards." it doesn't matter if you can see the end; life is the same whether you live it "forwards" (without knowledge of the future) or "backwards" (with foresight). it doesn't change the significance of your life experiences; to try and avoid certain future pain just because you have the knowledge of it is a zero sum game. you think you win because you avoided pain, but you also avoided the joy that preceded it. the metamorphosis. so you still lose if you try to win, and vice-versa.

all you can do is rush forward and take it all head-on. see this whole beautiful mess as your one most precious gift; this one life, this one chance, a laughably miniature blip on the colossus that is linear time, to experience all there is to feel before you return back to an eternity without perception. it's all worth it, because only in living a full-fledged life open to everything it has to offer does the experience of living turn out to be greater than the sum of its parts; it's in trying to beat the system (avoid pain) that we actually lose.

"if you could see your whole life from start to finish, would you change things?"

"maybe i'd say what i feel more often. i...i don't know."

[trans-rights-coastalmangoes]

i need white women to fucking stop

[magiclwritings]

It wasn't until Apollo had apologized to Oliver and Cassio for his tone that he'd realized his jaw had been set in a rigid hold. So much so that when he'd finally opened and took a breath both sides popped. His fingers squeezed Apollo's and he slid his hand free. A faint sheen of sweat had collected on his palm and so he rubbed it against his pants. He had to get himself together. Seeing that the little boy also recognized the pair of them had irked him more than the fact that had just showed up unannounced. He sighed and found himself regaining himself, calming down as quickly as he could manage. If he were going to be able to keep touching Apollo like that he couldn't influence his mood like that. Even if it had been unintentional. He wasn't ashamed but he felt bad that he couldn't just let somethings go yet.

"I don't think anyone has heard or seen from her since then either." Cassio chimed in. While he wasn't greatly acquainted with that particular wizarding family, most were still running their circles and gossiping all the while after. As much as he hated to admit, sometimes it was the only way to really find out anything about anyone. "Mungos? And you were the only one to contact? What about her parents?" He'd almost regretted suggesting it as soon as it had come out but still. Cass stepped in and nudged himself under Oliver's arm for his warmth and comfort. "I mean I'm sure they don't have the highest opinions of you or ... Isaac but surely they'd know their daughter was missing, right?" He looked to Oliver and sighed, knowing that may not be true. With so many in his boyfriend's family he wondered how his poor parents kept up with all of them.

"Orion was probably right. Maybe with the four of us we could get more out of him?" He'd suggested, reaching his hand to pat Oliver's chest. "Uncle Ollie seems like he's got a handle on it already." The laugh that followed couldn't be helped. Because while this was absolutely terrifying, that part was still something that would stick with him for the rest of his life. "I mean it can't hurt. Does anyone else know about him?" He asked only Apollo that question, his gaze lingering a little longer than need be but he needed to know exactly what they needed to prepare for and only Apollo could tell him exactly who this could be.

"Jus' the hospital staff." Isaac butted in, snapping the blond out of his staring contest with Apollo. Breathe. He straightened and forced a smile to his lips. "You migh' be righ'. Oliver migh' be the one ta ge' somethin' ou' o' him." He nudged Apollo's shoulder, knowing he was going a mile a minute in his brain and no chance of slowing. "Maybe we can ta'e a brea'. Try an' ea' somethin' while Oliver an' Cassio talk ta him." He offered, knowing Apollo would resist but he needed so desperately to get him to focus on something else even if just for a moment. "He's no' goin' anywhere an' I thin' he's jus' scared." His lips pressed together and he breathed out through his nose. "I would be if the lo' o' us were actin' li'e I was a piece of gilly wee'." His shoulders shrugged and he bent in the rest his chin on Apollo's shoulder. "Wha' else ca' we do?"

Oliver wasn’t surprised that Cassio didn’t immediately believe him. It was so rare that he knew something about Apollo before Cass, but he knew he was right. He knew Orion wouldn’t lie about this. While he didn’t have the whole story, Oliver had seen the look on his brother’s face as he explained a spell to Apollo. “Don’t be all pouty when you realize I was right,” Oliver mumbled against the side of Cass’ mouth, pecking kisses along any inch of warm skin he could find before the blonde pulled away and left the comfort of his bed—knowing such huge information before Cass was a thrill if he was honest. His friendship with Apollo, while it had never bothered him, had been quite the thing to navigate throughout the start of their relationship. 

After Cassio freshened up and they exited the bedroom, Oliver went about gathering the bags he had brought in from his little shopping spree. According to Orion, Apollo and Isaac’s new son was in the toddler-ish stage, so he got…well, pretty much one of everything. He would be the best uncle ever because Merlin knew when any of his useless brothers would give him a niece or nephew. Cassio went to his phone, unlocking it and frowning at the screen. Oliver knew that look; it meant Apollo hadn’t texted him. “We’ll see them in a couple of minutes,” He said, arms loaded with bags of goodies. “You’ll have to apparate us.” Oliver felt arms wrapped around him, and then they were off. 

They appeared moments later in Apollo and Isaac’s home. 

“She’s just our neighbor,” Theo explained exasperatedly, as if Isaac was silly for not knowing this information already. “When I can’t come here, she watches me for me..” He shrugged and went back to his plate. Apollo studied the boy, noting that he adapted Isaac’s accent for some words, but that could have just been him idolizing the man he thought was a father figure to him. Theo opened his mouth to continue, but Apollo held up a hand after he heard a distant pop of someone’s apparition in the living room. Very few people had access to their home. He knew his twin wouldn’t come without calling first. Given who he had called earlier, Apollo knew who it was. 

He glanced at Isaac, sighed heavily, and resisted the urge to slam his head against the table. A concussion would be preferred over dealing with Oliver right now. However, while he was strongly displeased at Oliver's unannounced arrival at their home, it would help them get more information regarding Theodore. Would he recognize Oliver and Cassio? Would he have fabricated memories of them as well? “Theodore,” Apollo called out before he heard a grating voice call out, ‘Hellooooo.’ The boy looked up at Apollo, waiting for him to speak again. He would take the risk. “I think your uncles are here.” Then he held his breath, waiting. 

The biggest grin broke out on the boy’s face as he pushed his chair back from the table and ran into the living room, screaming at the top of his lungs, “Uncle Ollie!!” Apollo turned to Isaac, his mouth hanging open. “What the fuck,” He muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. Theodore’s entire life had been built on false memories that extended to their friends. It was enough of a distraction to make him forget that he was pissed about Orion’s betrayal. “Orion must have told them,” He said to Isaac; for some odd reason, he felt the need to throw out there that he hadn’t called Cassio about this. “I’m going to kill Oliver.”

Apollo stood up from the seat, his meal untouched, and walked into the living room. As he entered, he saw Theodore trying to wrap both arms around Oliver and Cassio in a hug. His gaze met Cassio’s immediately, and Apollo didn’t have the words to explain, not like he could in front of Theodore anyway. “What did you do to Orion?” He asked, turning to look at Oliver, his hands on his hips. “Because I know he wouldn’t give up my information freely.” 

Oliver ruffled Theo’s hair before sheepishly glancing up at Apollo. “First of all, it’s rude that we weren’t the first told..” 

“Told what?” Theodore asked, looking up at Oliver with the biggest smile. 

Oliver continued without answering Theodore. “And second of all, I beat him up, and it was easy because he’s a little bitch.” Theo giggled and tugged on Oliver’s arm, muttering ‘That’s a bad word’ under his breath. “I mean, he’s a little witch.” Theodore giggled again and moved from them, starting to rummage through the bags at Oliver’s feet. “All of these bags are for you.” 

Apollo sighed but didn’t comment on it. It saved him a trip to the store. “Theo, why don’t you look through those while we talk to your uncles in the kitchen.” 

As they moved into the kitchen, Apollo reached for Isaac’s hand, slotting their fingers together and giving him a squeeze of comfort. He turned around when Cassio and Oliver followed them in, stepping back into the vicinity of Isaac’s warmth. “I don’t know where to begin. I got a call to come to Mungos, and he was there waiting for me. Alexandria is his mum, and she’s been AWOL for days. The hospital has it on file that I’m listed as his father and the emergency contact, but I haven’t met that kid before. He knows all of us as if he’s been in our lives forever. I didn’t even know she had a kid. I haven’t seen her since uni. I called Orion to see if there was a way to look at memories and see if there were traces of altering magic in them because it doesn’t make sense how he has memories of being here, playing with Milo, and being with Isaac and me. Now, it’s confirmed he’s also familiar with the two of you. So now that you’re all caught up, are you here to help or just to make it even more of a difficult night?” 

Apollo inhaled sharply and shook his head. He hadn’t meant it like that, but his nerves were fucking fried to shit, and he was so fucking tired. “I didn’t mean…” He started and then stopped, momentarily focusing on breathing until he felt more solid and grounded. “I didn’t mean it to sound the way it sounded.” Apollo couldn’t bring himself to apologize, so that was the closest he could get to it. “I don’t know what the fuck to do with a kid.”

[tyrannuspitch]

👻

👻 What is your wildest headcanon?

oh god. okay. so. last year i learnt the term ergi, which for the uninitiated is defined as follows: unmanly dishonour in an old norse (*inspired) context, especially being penetrated during sex (but also other things like cowardice, servility, and practicing women's magic.)

and i started trying to Extrapolate a whole hypothetical culture from this.

like, it's easy to say that that's straightforwardly "it's okay if you're on top". but if the predominate attitude is that it's always acceptable to be the top and never acceptable to be the bottom, AND honourable = masc = strong while dishonourable = fem = weak, AND m/m sex is frequently framed in terms of domination, conquest, or even punishment... then you're probably going to end up with a society with an absolutely awful attitude towards consent. a society with basically no distinction, in the common understanding, between gay sex and rape.

so. i take this framing. i take mcu thor, who embodies a lot of his society's worst ideas but always in the most noble, well-intentioned way... and we end up with a guy who thinks gay sex is wrong because it's always homophobic rape.

like. the ambient cultural attitude is. topping a guy is an act of violence, but it's fine, because if you "let" it happen you, you must deserve it.

while thor's personal attitude is. topping a guy is an act of violence, so no-one can possibly genuinely want it to happen to him, so it's always just about taking advantage of someone weaker than you, so it's always wrong.

and, vitally, the category of weakness in thor's mind includes queerness. (and he doesn't think of tops as queer!) so if anyone says some queer guys DO want it, he dismisses that as a mocking / victim-blaming myth. and if a queer guy looks him in the eye and says no i promise you i really do want it, his brain short circuits and then he goes. oh no this man is full of self-loathing or perhaps insanity :( and it would still be terribly wrong of anyone to exploit that :(

(what does he think queer guys do want? idfk. non-penetrative sex, probably, but also, being queer is a tragic misfortune and not necessarily functional, so maybe they are just all self-destructive and crazy. also don't ask his opinion on grey areas of penetrative-ness because he just has not thought that hard about it.)

(also, thor's definition of queerness-as-identity being less tied to penetration means it's more tied to generalised femininity. which also means he is not allowed to desire men, because he's not fem, so obviously he wouldn't be The Victim, so that would be evil of him. (does he like men? idfk. but if he did he'd be having a truly awful time with it!))

basically: thor is deranged <3

to be clear, i don't think thor's attitude necessarily stays here. i think this is his attitude as quite a young adult (up to ~18-20?) but eventually one way or another he is confronted with the real world and it has to crumble. but. god it's fun in its bizarre way. what's wrong with that man <3

also. not a historian. no idea if this is how anyone in the real world has ever actually thought. but i'm dealing with a hypothetical society here so their attitudes can be literally anything i find interesting.

fanfic writer ask game 💕

[dazais-guardian-angel]

went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠

[fanaticalthings]

While I do find it funny that henchmen in Gotham probably warn each other about the Red Hood because he's a bat who will actually kill you. I think it would be better if Jason was actually seen as some sort of savior or idol to like 90% of the goons scattered around Gotham. Doesn't matter who they work for, they all know Jason, former crime-lord that took over majority of Gotham's underground in one night.

---

Jason, years after the events of UTRH, now fighting crime alongside the batfam, except every goon he runs into immediately recognizes him, stops fighting, and starts begging.

the first time it happens, Jason assumes they're begging for their lives only to hear them begging for him to return to the crime lord business so they can work for him and not Gotham's current money-stingy, abusive rogues (Black Mask lol)

---

Jason showing up to patrol as backup for Dick in an overrun warehouse full of Two-Face's henchmen and as Jason's about to interfere, one of the men stops dead in their tracks and stares really hard at Jason until:

Goon: Oh my God, boss, is that you?

Jason, pulling out his guns, about to shoot:

Goon: Mr. Hood, sir???

Jason, halfway about to pull the trigger: Wait a min–Jeremy? Oh wow, it's been ages! How's the wife?

Goon (Jeremy): Oh my God it IS you, holy shit where have you BEEN? Me and the guys miss you, man!

Dick, with a knife at his throat: What is happening right now

Jason: Ahh, well, crime-lording just wasn't fitting in on the daily schedule. Tryna turn over a new leaf and all that

Goon (Jeremy): Aw, that's disappointing. We really liked working for you, right guys?

[Chorus of enthusiastic "YEAHS" from the rest of the henchmen (even the one holding Dick at knifepoint)]

Goon (Jeremy): Well, anyways, I can't beat you up knowing you're my old boss! You gave us the best health benefits! We'll just let you take the evidence and leave.

Jason: Aw, thanks guys :)

---

And that's why 95% percent of Jason's missions in Gotham end in success. Not because he's willing to kill people or because rogues are terrified of him, but because 90% of the rogues' henchmen once worked for Jason and fuckin love him lol.

[harrysfolklore]

still a little bitch - cs55

summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz don’t hate each other anymore, but she still calls him a little bitch. PART ONE word count: 9.1k + social media posts

folkie radio: HERE IT IS !!!! THE LONG AWAITED PART TWO OF LITTLE BITCH!!! i’m going to be completely honest with you i’m beyond terrified of posting this. little bitch was overwhelmingly liked by all of you and i’m scared this won’t live up to it 😭 but i really really hope you like it. i’m not a fan of doing part two’s of fics but this one deserves it <33 buckle up for a ride or angst, some tears and a lot of little bitch calling. LOVE YOU ALL

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

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ynpiastri highlight of imola: LEO LECLERC

tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc

view all 3,998 comments

username1 OMG LEO IS SO CUTE

username2 MISS THE SECOND PICTURE ???

username3 PIASTRI SIS HAS A BF?? OMG

alexandrasaintmleux My boy 😍😍

username4 what is carlos doing in the likes i thought they hated each other 😭

username5 HOW DOES OSCAR FEEL ABOUT HER BF I NEED TO KNOW

username6 not tagging the person in the second pic she’s such a piastri

landonorris You’re not slick at all my friend

↳ ynpiastri i literally never asked for your opinion

↳ username1 HEEELP

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If someone had told you a year ago that you would be making out with Carlos Sainz in his driver's room hours before the Monaco Grand Prix, you would've laughed in their faces and told them they were completely out of their mind.

Because why would you ever think of even breathing near the little bitch, right?

And yet, there you were. Your bodies pressed together as his lips explored your neck.

"Carlos," you murmured, your fingers tangling in his hair, "we shouldn't... someone could come in..."

He lifted his head, his brown eyes gleaming with desire. "Do you want me to stop, hermosa?"

"No," you admitted, "I don't want you to stop."

A satisfied smile played on his lips before he pressed them against yours again. His hands caressed your hips, pulling you even closer.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he whispered against your lips.

You couldn't help but smile. "The feeling's mutual, you little bitch."

He chuckled softly before speaking, "And to think that you hated me."

"I still do," you replied, but your tone lacked conviction. "It's just… I hate you a little less when you do that."

His lips found that sensitive spot just below your ear, making you shiver.

"Oh yeah?" he murmured, his hot breath against your skin. "And this?"

You let out a small moan, your nails digging slightly into his shoulders. "Maybe I hate you even less now."

He laughed softly, his hands sliding under your t-shirt. "You definitely don't hate me."

Almost a month had passed since that night in Carlos' car, and things between you two were amazing. You hadn't put a label on what you were yet, but you felt happier than ever.

You found yourselves seeking each other out more and more. But it wasn't just about the physical attraction or the tension of your bickering anymore. You discovered a side of Carlos you'd never seen before – his warmth, his humor, his vulnerability.

And you finally let your guard down and let him see that part of you, too.

The sarcastic remarks and playful insults were still there, but now they were tinged with affection rather than malice. Your friends had started to notice the change in your dynamic, especially Lando, who couldn't quite hide his knowing smirk whenever he saw you two together.

However, you decided to play it cool, not letting your friends know that there was something more between you and Carlos. They might be able to tell by now, but you still didn't want to admit it to them.

Which lead to secret rendezvous in hidden corners of the paddock become frequent occurrences. Like right now.

"As much as I'm enjoying this," you said as his lips still lingered on your neck and his hands roamed underneath your shirt, "I should go, someone's probably coming to get you shortly."

Carlos let out a soft groan of but nodded, slowly pulling away from you.

"You're right," he admitted, his hands reluctantly leaving your skin. "I wish we could stay like this, though. "

"I know," you smiled, reaching up to smooth his tousled hair. "But we can't risk getting caught, especially not today."

He caught your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm. "Tonight, then? After the race?"

"Assuming you don't crash into a wall, sure," you teased.

"Such faith in me," he chuckled, shaking his head. "I'll show you, hermosa. Watch me on that podium."

You were about to retort when a sharp knock on the door made you both freeze.

"Carlos? Five minutes until the briefing," came a voice from outside.

"Coming!" Carlos called back, "Looks like our time's up."

"I'll sneak out after you. Good luck out there, little bitch," you whispered, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Gracias, mi amor," he murmured, the endearment slipping out naturally.

You paused for a moment, surprised by the warm feeling that spread through your chest at his words. But there was no time to dwell on it. With a final kiss on your lips, he was out of the room.

Your heart was pounding as you tried to casually make your way out of Carlos' room. You were so focused on appearing nonchalant that you almost walked right into Charles.

"YN?" he said, his eyebrows raised in surprise and a knowing smirk slowly spreading across his face. "What are you doing here?"

You felt your cheeks flush as you scrambled for an explanation. "Oh, Charles! Hi! I was just… uh… coming to wish you good luck on the race."

"In Carlos' room?" his smirk widened.

Your heart sank. Of course he'd noticed where you'd come from. You tried to keep your voice steady as you replied, "No, no… I just got a bit turned around. All these corridors look the same, you know?"

"Uh-huh," Charles said, clearly not buying it for a second. "Well, thanks for the good luck wishes. Though I'm not sure how sincere they are if you're sneaking out of my teammate's room."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the knowing look in Charles' eyes made you realize it was pointless. He'd figured it out.

You were surprised Alex haven't told him already, anyway.

"Relax, YN. Your secret's safe with me," he said with a wink. "Though you might want to fix your hair before you see your brother. It's a bit… disheveled."

You groaned, quickly running your fingers through your hair as Charles walked away, still chuckling. You tried to make the flush on your cheeks go away as you reached McLaren hospitality.

Carlos Sainz was driving you crazy in the best possible way.

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ynpiastri LECLERCCCCCC FINALLY WON AND PERFECT PODIUM TYSM MONACO 😩😩😭

tagged: oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, lilyzneimer

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username1 I NEVER SAID ANYTHING BAD ABOUT THE MONACO GP

username2 her friendship with charles is so underrated love them

landonorris I wish my best friend celebrated my podiums like that

↳ ynpiastri i wish my best friend got more podiums to celebrate

↳ username1 HELPPP 😭

username3 UM HELLO??? posted sainz, TAGGED HIM, said it’s a perfect podium and she’s not coming for his neck for the touch with oscar on track that made the race re start ????? WHAT IS GOING ON

↳ username2 OH I SEE

charles_leclerc Thank you for coming to Ferrari just to wish me good luck and not anything else, that was definitely what made me win 😉

↳ ynpiastri stfu

↳ alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂😂😂

↳ oscarpiastri I’m really confused right now

carlossainz55 ❤️

↳ username1 BITCH WTF

↳ username2 ENEMIES TO LOVERS ???

TWITTER

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The party at Jimmy'z was in full swing, the air electric with the excitement of Charles' Grand Prix victory. The club was packed with F1 drivers, team personnel, and celebrities, all riding the high of the race day adrenaline.

You stood near the bar, your fourth glass of champagne in hand, feeling pleasantly buzzed. The room spun slightly as you looked around, your gaze inevitably drawn to Carlos. He was across the room, laughing with Pierre and Charles, but his eyes kept finding you in the crowd.

Every time your eyes met, you felt a jolt of electricity. The memory of his touch from earlier in the day lingered on your skin, making you crave more. You watched as he excused himself from his conversation and made his way toward you, weaving through the crowd with effortless grace.

"Enjoying the party, hermosa?" he asked, his voice low and husky as he leaned in close.

You shivered at his proximity, the scent of his cologne making your head spin even more. "It's alright," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. "Could be better though."

Carlos's eyes darkened at your words. He glanced around quickly before leaning in even closer, his lips barely brushing your ear. "Meet me outside in five minutes."

Before you could respond, he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. Your heart raced as you waited, trying not to watch the clock too obviously. When five minutes had passed, you made your way outside, your steps slightly unsteady.

The cool night air was a relief after the stuffy club. You spotted Carlos in one of the alleyways behind Jimmy'z. He turned as you approached, a smile spreading across his face.

"Remember the last time we were here?" he asked, pulling you close.

You giggled, the alcohol making you bold. "Yeah, when you kissed me unprovoked."

"Unprovoked?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, his hands settling on your waist. "I was being provoked by how insanely gorgeous you looked. Still do, by the way," he leaned even closer. "And if I recall correctly, you enjoyed it a lot."

"Maybe I did," you giggled, drunkenness clear in your every move. "Should we do it again?"

Without overthinking, you closed the gap between you, pressing your lips to his in a bold, impulsive kiss. It was tentative at first, testing the waters, but then you felt Carlos smile against your lips, his hands tightening on your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

As the kiss intensified, you felt Carlos's hands slide from your waist to your lower back, pressing you even closer against him. The heat of his body contrasted with the cool night air, sending shivers down your spine. Your own hands moved up to tangle in his hair, earning a low groan from him that you felt more than heard.

Breaking apart for air, Carlos rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in quick pants. "I'm crazy about you, Piastri," he murmured before leaning in for another kiss.

You were so lost in the moment that you didn't hear the footsteps of someone approaching.

"You freaking muppets! I knew it!"

You broke apart, startled, to see Lando standing there, a triumphant grin on his face.

"Lando!" you whined, burying your face in Carlos's chest. "Leave us alone!"

Carlos chuckled, his arms still around you. "How long have you known, cabron?"

"Please, you two are about as subtle as a neon sign," Lando smirked, crossing his arms. "Oh, this is too good. You two are so busted."

"Lando, please," Carlos started, but you cut him off.

"Go away, Lando!" you whined, clinging to Carlos. "We're busy."

Lando laughed, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. I'll leave you lovebirds alone. But we're definitely talking about this later!"

As Lando walked away, you turned back to Carlos, wrapping your arms around his neck, suddenly feeling very tired and more than a little drunk. "Take me home?" you asked, your words slurring slightly.

"Of course, mi amor," Carlos nodded, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll drive you to Oscar's."

"Nooo," you whined, clinging to him. "I want to stay with you tonight. Please?"

Carlos hesitated for a moment, clearly torn. "YN, you're pretty drunk. Are you sure that's a good idea?"

You nodded vigorously, then immediately regretted it as the world spun. "I'm sure. I just want to be with you. Please?"

"Alright, alright, you win. Let’s get you back to my place," he said gently, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you.

You beamed at him, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, little bitch."

The night might have been a blur, but one thing was crystal clear—you were falling hard for Carlos Sainz, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

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ynpiastri have you guys ever tried hangover pancakes ?

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username1 OMG???

username2 SHE DOES HAVE A BF

lilyzneimer 👀👀👀

username3 BITCH THATS CARLOS SAINZ

↳ username1 nah there’s no way, they hate each other

charles_leclerc I did before you did

↳ ynpiastri don’t be jealous charlie 😚

landonorris BUSTED BUSTED

↳ ynpiastri bro get over it

↳ landonorris never

↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN

username4 people saying this is carlos sainz, do you guys not know their history or something

↳ username5 yeah but enemies to lovers is a real thing

oscarpiastri 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

↳ ynpiastri ily can you pick me up?

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You could practically hear your friend's and brother's laugh through the phone as you muted the conversation. Shaking your head, you grabbed your jacket and headed out to meet Carlos.

He was waiting for you outside, leaning against a lamppost with casual smile. The sight of him - dressed in jeans and a simple t-shirt, his hair slightly tousled by the breeze - made your heart skip a beat.

"There you are," he said, his face lighting up as you approached. "Ready to go?"

Without thinking twice about it, you wrapped your arms his shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss, taking him by surprise. Carlos' eyes widened but he quickly melted into it, his arms wrapping around your waist. When you finally pulled away, he was looking at you with a mix of delight and wonder.

"Well," he said, a bit breathlessly, "that's quite a hello. What was that for?"

You shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant despite the blush creeping up your cheeks. "Do I need a reason to kiss you?"

"No, hermosa," he said, pulling you closer. "You never need a reason. You're allowed to kiss me whenever you want."

With a playful glint in your eye. You pulled him in and kissed him again.

God you were down bad, it's embarrassing.

"Dios mio," he murmured as you pulled away, "I could get used to this."

You laughed, linking your arm with his as you started walking. "Don't get too comfortable, little bitch. I still have a reputation to maintain."

Carlos chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Of course, Piastri. Whatever you say."

As you strolled through the streets of Montreal, you found yourself initiating more little touches - a squeeze of his hand, a kiss on the cheek, leaning into him as you walked. Each time, you noticed how Carlos's face would light up, how he'd pull you a little closer.

It occurred to you that maybe he'd been holding back, worried about pushing you too far or too fast.

For the past month, you'd been letting your guard down, bit by bit. Carlos had somehow managed to sneak past your defenses with his charm and the warmth that had been hidden beneath all that banter. You'd always prided yourself on being independent, on not letting anyone get too close. But with Carlos, things felt different, at least now they did.

Still, there were moments when doubt crept in, when old insecurities bubbled to the surface. What if this was all just a fling for him? What if you were reading too much into the way he looked at you, the way he seemed to treasure every kiss and touch? What if you eventually went back to your bitterness towards each other?

You hadn't put a label on whatever this was between you, and the ambiguity sometimes left you feeling unsteady, as if you were walking on a tightrope without a safety net.

But bringing it up to him felt intimidating.

"Whats on your mind?" Carlos asked once he noticed that you went quiet and your eyes were wandering.

You considered bringing up the subject, but decided to ignore the thought for now.

"Nothing," you replied with a small smile, squeezing his hand. "Just thinking about how Lando is going to have our heads for not wanting to hang out with him."

Carlos chuckled, shaking his head. "Lando will survive. He can’t have us all to himself all the time."

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As the Spanish Grand Prix weekend approached, you found yourself in Barcelona, exploring the city with Carlos in a way you never imagined possible.

The man who once irritated you beyond belief was now showing you his childhood spots, sharing stories of his youth with a boyish enthusiasm that made your heart flutter.

When you told Oscar about your plans to head to Barcelona early with Carlos, you braced yourself for the teasing that was sure to follow.

Your brother didn't disappoint, his eyes lighting up with mischief as he launched into a series of jokes about you "fraternizing with the enemy" and how you'd "finally succumbed to Sainz's charms." But beneath the banter, you could see the genuine happiness in Oscar's eyes.

After the laughter died down, he pulled you into a hug and told you he was glad you'd found someone who made you happy, even if it was "that Spanish menace."

He was the best brother you could've asked for.

"And this," Carlos said, gesturing to a small, unassuming restaurant tucked away in a narrow street, "is where you'll find the best paella in all of Barcelona. Maybe even in all of Spain."

"That's a bold claim, Sainz," you raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You better not be overselling it."

"Would I ever lie to you, Piastri?"

"Yes, absolutely," you retorted, but there was no bite to your words.

As you sat down to eat, the aroma of saffron and seafood filled the air. Carlos watched expectantly as you took your first bite, and you couldn't help but close your eyes in delight at the flavors.

"Okay, I'll admit it," you said, opening your eyes to see his triumphant smile. "This might actually be the best paella I've ever had."

"I told you!" he exclaimed, looking far too pleased with himself. "Never doubt a Spaniard when it comes to paella."

"Alright, you win this round," you rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at your lips.

As you continued to enjoy the meal, a comfortable silence settled between you and Carlos. It was in these quiet moments that you found yourself marveling at how far you'd come - from barely tolerating each other to... whatever this was now.

"You know, I've been thinking," Carlos broke the silence, his voice softer than usual, "We've talked a lot about my childhood here in Spain, but I realize I don't know much about your early years in Australia."

You looked up from your plate, a bit surprised by the sudden change in topic. "Oh, well, what do you want to know?"

Carlos leaned forward, his elbows on the table, genuine curiosity in his warm brown eyes. "Everything. What was it like growing up there? What did little YN enjoy back then?”

You paused for a moment, caught off guard by Carlos's question. Your mind immediately went to your childhood memories with Oscar, and you found yourself launching into a familiar narrative.

"Well, growing up in Australia was quite an adventure, especially with Oscar around," you began, a fond smile playing on your lips, “Oscar's always been obsessed with anything that has wheels. Even as a toddler, he'd zoom around the house with his toy cars, making engine noises..."

As you launched into the story of Oscar's journey from go-karts to Formula 1, you found yourself getting carried away with the memories. You talked about the early morning drives to races, the smell of petrol and rubber that became a constant in your life, the way your parents juggled work and Oscar's growing career.

"...and then there was this one time, Oscar was about 14, and he'd just won a major championship. The interviewer asked him who his biggest inspiration was, and do you know what he said?" You paused, smiling at the memory.

Carlos shook his head, completely engrossed in your story.

"He said it was me. Can you believe that? His older sister who couldn't tell a thing about cars. I think I cried for an hour after that interview."

As you finished your tale, you noticed Carlos watching you with an unreadable expression. "What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

Carlos smiled softly, reaching across the table to take your hand.

"Hermosa," he said gently, "I asked about your childhood, and you've told me all about Oscar's racing career."

You blinked, realizing he was right. "Oh, I... I guess I got carried away. Sorry about that."

"No, no," Carlos squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I love hearing about Oscar, truly. But I want to know about you. What did you like growing up? What were your passions, your dreams?"

You blinked, suddenly realizing that you had automatically steered the conversation towards Oscar, as you had done countless times before when asked about your childhood. The fact that Carlos had redirected the focus back to you left you momentarily speechless.

"I... wow," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I don't think anyone's ever asked me that before."

"Really? But surely people must have been interested in your childhood too?"

You shrugged, feeling a sudden lump in your throat. "Not really. I mean, Oscar was always the star, you know? My pride and joy, the racing prodigy. People were always more interested in his story."

Carlos squeezed your hand gently. "Well, I'm interested in your story. Tell me about little YN Piastri, not just Oscar's sister."

You took a deep breath, feeling a lot of emotions you couldn't quite name. Carlos's genuine interest in your personal story touched something deep within you, a part of yourself you'd almost forgotten existed.

"Actually," you began, your voice soft as you delved into long-buried memories, "I was always drawn to art. Not just painting or drawing, but all forms of visual expression. I remember spending hours in our backyard, arranging leaves and flowers into patterns, or using chalk to create massive, colorful murals on our driveway."

"That sounds beautiful. Did you take classes?" Carlos leaned in, his eyes bright with interest.

"Not really. I wasn't great in school, to be honest. Sitting still, focusing on textbooks - it just wasn't my strong suit. But give me a blank canvas or a lump of clay, and I could lose myself for hours."

"So why didn't you pursue it?" Carlos asked gently.

You paused, considering Carlos's question. It was something you'd never really articulated before, even to yourself.

"I guess... I never saw it as something to pursue," you said slowly. "My focus was always on Oscar. From the moment he started showing promise in racing, I just naturally fell into the role of his protector, his support system."

You smiled softly, remembering those early days. "Oscar was so talented, but he was also just a kid with big dreams and even bigger pressures. I felt like it was my job to shield him from the worst of it, to be his safe haven. It wasn't a sacrifice, not really. It was a choice I made out of love. Oscar's success, his happiness - that became my passion."

"But what about your art?" Carlos pressed, his tone careful but curious.

You shrugged, a mix of emotions flickering across your face. "It just… faded into the background, I guess. There were always races to attend, equipment to pack. My sketchbooks got buried under stacks of racing magazines. My easel gathered dust in the corner of my room."

Carlos reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "YN , that's… that's incredibly selfless of you. But don't you miss it?"

You felt a wave of emotion wash over you at Carlos's question, his gentle touch grounding you.

"I do," you admitted softly, your eyes meeting his. "I've been Oscar's sister, his supporter, for so long. I'm not sure I remember how to be anything else."

"Oh, mi amor," Carlos said softly, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. "You're so much more than just Oscar's sister. You're YN - a woman with a beautiful heart and a determinate mind. Your love for Oscar is admirable, but it doesn't have to be the only thing that defines you," he paused, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, "I'm honored to be close to that woman. The one who sees beauty in leaves and flowers, who can lose herself in creating art, even when she forgets about it."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, a warmth spreading through your chest. But old habits die hard, and you found yourself deflecting with humor. "Wow, Sainz," you said, a teasing glint in your eye. "Are you always this sappy, or am I just special?"

Carlos's face broke into a grin, recognizing your playful tone. "Only for you, Piastri. I have a reputation to maintain, you know."

"Oh please," you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. "Your reputation as what? A little bitch?"

Carlos' face broke into a wide grin, "One day you'll stop calling me that."

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension of the earlier conversation dissolving into familiar banter. "Keep telling yourself that, Sainz."

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ynpiastri te quiero barcelona 🫶

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username1 OH

username2 WHAT IS HAPPENINGGGG

alexandrasaintmleux 👀❤️

username3 SHE THINKS SHES SLICK CROPPING CARLOS’ EYES GIRL WE CAN TELL ITS HIM

lilyzneimer 🥹

username4 the piastri - sainz beef turning into piastri - sainz romance wasn’t on my bingo card

nicolepiastri You failed Spanish like three times in high school…

↳ username1 HEEEEELPPP

↳ oscarpiastri 😂😂😂😂😂😂

↳ username2 mama piastri is too iconic for constantly dragging her kids

↳ ynpiastri 😩

landonorris I SEE HOW IT IS NOW

↳ username1 help lando’s dreams came true

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Saturday arrived in Barcelona, which meant it was time for qualifying.

After your quick rendezvous with Carlos in his motorhome - something that was routine by now- you made your way towards the paddock club to meet Alex and Kika. Your mind was still buzzing from Carlos' touch, your skin tingling where his lips had been just moments ago.

Your hair was slightly tousled, a result of Carlos' fingers running through it. You could still feel the ghost of his kisses on your neck, and the memory sent a shiver down your spine. Pausing briefly, you tried to smooth down your clothes and fix your appearance in the reflection of a nearby trailer. The last thing you needed was more knowing looks from your friends, you had enough when Lando teasing you and Carlos whenever he had the chance.

Approaching the paddock club, you spotted Alex and Kika waiting for you near the entrance.

"Hey, there you are!" Alex called out as you neared. "We were starting to wonder if you'd gotten lost."

You rolled your eyes playfully. "In a place I've been coming to for years? Not likely."

The three of you sat down at a nearby table and ordered something to drink. The conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from race predictions to the latest paddock gossip.

"So," Kika said, leaning forward towards you, "how are things going with Carlos? You two seem pretty cozy lately."

You felt a blush creeping up your neck, the warmth spreading to your cheeks. You took a sip of your drink to buy yourself a moment, but you couldn't hide the smile that tugged at your lips. "Things are good. Really good, actually."

"But…?" Alex's eyes narrowed slightly as she studied your face.

"But nothing," you shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "We're just enjoying each other's company."

Kika's eyebrows shot up, her expression a mix of surprise and disbelief. "Wait, has he not asked you to be his girlfriend yet? I thought for sure you two would be official by now."

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, bringing all your insecurities rushing to the surface. The ones you've tried to push away since this thing with Carlos began.

You tried to keep your expression neutral, but your friends knew you too well. The smile you'd been wearing moments ago faltered, and you could feel the doubt creeping in.

"Hey," Alex said softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. "I'm sure it doesn't mean anything. Carlos is crazy about you, anyone can see that. Every relationship moves at its own pace."

You nodded, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "Yeah, of course. We're just taking things slow, that's all."

But as the conversation moved on to other topics, you couldn't shake the doubt that had taken root in your mind. You found yourself only half-listening, your thoughts a swirling mess of questions and insecurities.

Why hadn't Carlos made things official? Was he keeping his options open? Were you still just his rival's sister who picked fights with him in his eyes? The rational part of your brain tried to argue that labels didn't matter, that what you and Carlos had was special regardless of what you called it. But the insecure part wouldn't be silenced so easily.

As you sat there, surrounded by the chatter of your friends and the energy of the circuit, you felt a strange sense of isolation creep over you. You were in Carlos' home city, surrounded by his world, and yet you'd never felt more unsure of your place in it.

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"Finally," Carlos breathed, as he opened the door. Before you could utter a word, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside, kicking the door shut behind you. In one fluid motion, he pressed you against the wall, his body flush against yours.

"Carlos, what-" you started, but he silenced you with a searing kiss.

When he finally pulled away, you were both breathless. "Sorry," he murmured, his forehead resting against yours. "I've been wanting to do that all day."

"You saw me right after the race, you needy little bitch."

Carlos' hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer. "That was hours ago. Far too long."

"Seriously?" you teased, though you couldn't keep the affection out of your voice. "You're ridiculous, Sainz."

"Maybe," he conceded, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. "But you like it."

Carlos began to trail kisses down your neck, his touch igniting sparks across your skin. You laughed as he pulled you towards the bed, your fingers intertwining with his.

"Slow down, hotshot. The bed's not going anywhere."

"But my patience might," he turned to face you, "Do you know how hard it was to focus on the post-race interviews when all I could think about was getting you alone?"

"Oh, poor baby," you teased gently, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair. "It must have been tough, going over the race data after a P6 finish."

Carlos groaned dramatically, pulling you closer. "Torture, hermosa. Absolute torture."

Carlos guided you towards the bed, his hands never leaving your body. With a gentle push, he lowered you onto the mattress, quickly following to hover above you. His lips found yours again, the kiss deep and passionate, as his hands roamed your sides, slipping under the hem of your shirt.

You arched into his touch, your own hands exploring the firm planes of his back. Carlos broke the kiss to trail his lips along your jawline, down to the sensitive spot on your neck that always made you gasp.

"You're really needy today, aren't you?" you said, running your fingers through his hair.

Carlos' lips quirked into a smirk, his eyes softening with affection. "I'm always needy when it comes to my girl," he murmured, leaning in to capture your lips once more.

Your breath caught in your throat, not just from the sensation of his warm breath on your skin, but from his words. My girl. The phrase echoed in your mind, stirring up the doubts you'd been trying to push away.

Suddenly, Kika's voice from your earlier conversation rang in your ears. "Wait, has he not asked you to be his girlfriend yet?"

The warmth that had been building in your chest turned cold as uncertainty crept in. If you were his girl, then why hadn't he made it official?

Carlos must have sensed your sudden tension because he pulled back slightly, his brow furrowing. "YN? What's wrong?"

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the doubts. "Nothing," you said, your voice not quite as steady as you'd hoped.

He studied your face for a moment, concern evident in his eyes. "Are you sure? We can stop if you're not feeling it."

"No, no," you assured him quickly, not wanting to ruin the moment. "I'm fine. Just… got distracted for a second."

Carlos didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded slowly. "Okay, but promise me you'll tell me if something's bothering you?"

You nodded, pulling him back down for another kiss. As you lost yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you pushed your concerns to the back of your mind.

A few moments later, you laid tangled beneath the covers, your head resting on Carlos' chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your bare shoulder. The afterglow should have been blissful, but your mind was elsewhere, racing with thoughts you couldn't quiet.

Carlos must have sensed your unease because he shifted slightly, tilting his head to look at you. "YN? What's wrong, hermosa? You seem… distant. Are you not feeling well?"

You sighed, debating whether to voice your concerns. "It's nothing, really. I just…" you trailed off, unsure how to continue.

"Hey," he said softly, his hand moving to cup your cheek. "Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

You bit your lip, your heart racing. "It's just… when you called me 'your girl' earlier… I don't know. It made me think."

"Think about what?" Carlos' brow furrowed slightly. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, no, you didn't," you assured him quickly. "It's more about… us, I guess. About what we are. What this is between us."

"YN," he said, his voice low and intense. "I thought I've been clear about how I feel about you. I've been yours since that kiss at Jimmy'z last year. Maybe even before that, if I'm being honest."

His words should have reassured you, but they only made your anxiety spike. You sat up abruptly, pulling the sheet around you.

You'd wanted clarity, but now that you had it, you didn't know how to handle it.

"But what does that mean, Carlos?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly. "We've been doing... whatever this is for months now, but we've never really talked about it. We haven't put a label on it."

Carlos sat up too, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "I didn't think we needed to. I thought it was obvious how I felt about you."

"Obvious?" you repeated, a hint of frustration creeping into your voice. "How is it obvious when we've never actually discussed what we are to each other?"

Carlos reached for your hand, but you pulled away, standing up from the bed. You began pacing, your mind racing.

"YN, please," Carlos said, his voice soft. "Come back to bed. Let's talk about this."

You shook your head, reaching for your clothes. "I can't... I need to think. I need some space."

As you hurriedly dressed, Carlos got out of bed, pulling on his boxers. "Are you really running away, Piastri?" he asked, a hint of anger in his voice now. "I thought we were past this. That you weren't that arrogant girl who was ready to pick up pointless fights with me anymore."

His words stung, cutting deeper than you thought possible. It felt like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you reeling. The accusation brought back all the insecurities you'd been trying to suppress, all the doubts about whether you deserved this happiness with Carlos. It was as if he'd reached into your chest and squeezed your heart, leaving you raw and vulnerable.

You whirled to face him, eyes flashing with hurt and anger. "Arrogant? Is that what you think of me?"

"No, that's not what I meant," Carlos ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his voice. "I just... I thought we'd moved past the point where you'd run away instead of talking to me."

"Maybe I wouldn't feel the need to run if you'd actually communicate with me," you shot back.

"Communicate?" Carlos scoffed. "That's rich coming from you. You're the one who's been keeping me at arm's length this whole time!"

The accusation hit you like a slap. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, YN," Carlos said, his voice rising. "Every time things get too real, you pull away. You make a joke, you change the subject. It's like you're afraid of admitting that this might actually mean something."

"That's not fair," you protested, feeling tears prick at your eyes. "I'm here, aren't I? I've been here! But how am I supposed to be sure that this isn't just a fling for you? Or some twisted way to mess with Oscar?"

"Oscar?" Carlos looked you with wide eyes, shaking his head, "What does Oscar have to do with anything? This is about us, YN. You and me."

"Is it?" you challenged, your voice breaking. "Because sometimes I don't even know what 'us' means. Are we together? Are we just having fun? How am I supposed to know?"

Carlos' expression softened slightly, but his frustration was still evident. "You're not being fair, Piastri. I've always been the one to show my desire to be with you. I did it that night after Lando's party, remember? But you're the one who runs away when things get real."

His words hit home, and you felt a fresh wave of guilt and confusion wash over you.

"I don't... I don't run away," you said weakly, but even to your own ears, it sounded unconvincing.

"Don't you?" Carlos asked, his voice softening. "Every time I try to take a step forward, you take three steps back. I'm not the one who's afraid of labels here."

Silence lingered in the air, you felt physically sick. Carlos' words were true, every single one of them, deep down you knew it. As much as you tried to let your guard down with him, your self defense mechanisms always came through.

"When are you going to stop sabotaging your own happiness for other people?" Carlos asked after another minute of silence. "This isn't about Oscar, or anyone else. It's about you being too scared to admit that you might actually care about me."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, once again. "Scared? You think I'm scared? I'm terrified, Carlos! Terrified of getting hurt, of ruining everything. And you're not exactly making it easy.""

"How am I not making it easy?" Carlos demanded, his voice rising. "I've been nothing but clear about my feelings for you. Every time I get close, you shut down!" Carlos shouted, his frustration boiling over. "It's like you're allergic to any kind of emotional intimacy!"

"Oh, that's something coming from you," you spat back. "Mr. 'I-can-charm-anyone-with-a-smile'. How do I know this isn't just another conquest for you?"

The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted them. You saw the hurt flash across Carlos' face, quickly replaced by anger.

"A conquest?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "Is that really what you think of me? After everything I've shared with you?"

"I don't know what to think anymore," you said, your voice breaking. "This whole thing is just... it's too much. I can't do this."

You turned towards the door, reaching for the handle. Carlos stepped forward, his anger dissipating, replaced by desperation.

"YN, wait," he pleaded. "Please, don't go. Not like this. Let's talk, mi amor. Don't run from me."

The term of endearment, spoken so softly, almost broke your resolve. You paused, your hand on the doorknob, torn between the urge to flee and the desire to fall into his arms.

"I... I can't, Carlos," you whispered, your voice thick with tears. "I need some time. Some space to think."

"YN, please," Carlos said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We can figure this out together. Just... stay. Please."

You turned to look at him one last time, your heart breaking at the pain in his eyes. "I'm sorry," you managed to say. "I'll... I'll call you later."

And with that, you stepped out into the hallway, leaving Carlos standing alone in his room.

You immediately felt like you made a huge mistake.

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You were curled up on the couch in your apartment, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, staring blankly at the TV screen. The sound was muted, the flickering images providing a distraction you desperately needed but couldn't quite focus on. Your phone lay face down on the coffee table, ignored despite the occasional vibration of incoming messages.

Your mind wandered to Carlos, it always did.

The memory of your argument played on repeat in your head, each hurtful word a fresh wound. You couldn't shake the image of his face - the hurt, the anger, the desperation in his eyes as you walked out the door. It haunted you.

Everything that had happened that night felt like a blur. The passion of your initial encounter, the tenderness of his touch, the way he called you "his girl" - it all seemed so perfect until your insecurities came crashing in. You wondered if you had overreacted, if you had let your fears get the best of you.

Carlos had been right about one thing - you did have a tendency to run when things got too real. It was a defense mechanism, a way to protect yourself from getting hurt. But in doing so, were you sabotaging your own happiness, like he said?

The only thing you were sure about was that it wasn't physical attraction or the remaining tension of your bickering from last year anymore, Carlos saw you in a way no one else did, and that terrified you as much as it thrilled you.

Your conversation with Lando from earlier that day came back to you. You had called him in a moment of panic, spilling out all your fears and doubts. Lando, ever the unusual voice of reason, had listened patiently.

"YN," he had said, his voice gentle but firm, "you can't let your insecurities ruin what you and Carlos could have. I've known him for years, and I've never seen him like this with anyone else. He really cares about you."

"But what if it doesn't work out?" you had asked, your voice small. "What if we end up hating each other again?"

Lando had chuckled at that. "You two are so stubborn, you know that? You're both so afraid of letting your guard down that you're pushing each other away. Someone needs to take the first step, YN. And from what Carlos has told me, he's been trying. Maybe it's your turn."

His words echoed in your mind now, mixing with the memory of Carlos' plea for you to stay.

You made a huge mistake by walking away that night, and now you didn't know how to fix it.

A soft knock on the door startled you out of your thoughts. You hesitated, not wanting to face anyone, but another, more insistent knock followed.

"YN? It's me, open up," Oscar's voice called from the other side.

With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the couch and shuffled to the door. When you opened it, your brother's concerned face greeted you.

"Hey," Oscar said softly, his eyes scanning your disheveled appearance. "Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. Oscar walked in, his gaze taking in the dim lighting and the general disarray of your usually tidy living room. He turned to face you, worry etched across his features.

"What's going on, sis? I heard you're not going to Austria," he said, his voice gentle but probing. "And it looks like you haven't slept in days."

You shrugged, avoiding his gaze. "I just need a break," you mumbled, moving back to the couch and curling up in your previous position.

Oscar followed, sitting down beside you.

He reached out and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch gentle and familiar. "YN, talk to me. What's really going on? Is this about Carlos?"

At the mention of Carlos' name, you felt a fresh wave of emotion wash over you. You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. Oscar noticed your reaction and pulled you into a tight hug.

"Oh, sis," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "What happened?"

You buried your face in your brother's shoulder, finally letting the tears fall. Between sobs, you started to explain everything that had happened in Barcelona - the conversation with Kika and Alex, your growing insecurities, the night in Carlos's hotel room, your argument. As you spoke, you could feel the weight of the past week pressing down on you, the emotions you'd been bottling up threatening to spill over.

"…and now, I don't know what to do," you finished, your voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I've ruined everything."

"YN, listen to me. You haven't ruined anything," Oscar said, "Relationships are complicated, and misunderstandings happen. But from what you've told me and what I've seen, it sounds like Carlos cares about you a lot. And I think you care about him too, more than you're willing to admit to yourself."

"But what if it all goes wrong?" you wiped your eyes, sniffling. "What if we end up hating each other even more than we did before? What if... what if I'm not enough for him?"

Oscar shook his head, a small smile on his face. "You've always been your own worst enemy, you know that?" you almost rolled your eyes at he familiar statement. "Remember when I left for boarding school? You were so upset, convinced that I was leaving you behind forever. You didn't want to say goodbye, afraid it would hurt too much."

The memory flooded back, and you felt a lump form in your throat. "Yeah, I remember," you said softly.

"But do you remember what happened after?" Oscar prompted.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "We ended up talking more than ever. Phone calls, letters, video chats…"

"Exactly," Oscar said, squeezing your hand. "You were so scared of losing me that you almost pushed me away. But when you finally opened up, our relationship grew stronger than ever."

"That's different, Oscar. This is… it's Carlos. It's complicated."

"Is it?" Oscar challenged. "Or are you just making it complicated because you're scared? I've seen the way you two look at each other. It's not just some leftover tension from your rivalry. It's real."

You sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. "But what if-"

"No more 'what ifs'," Oscar interrupted. "You can't live your life afraid of what might happen. You're missing out on what's right in front of you," you were quiet for a moment, considering his words until he spoke again, "I know you’ve held back a lot in your life—for me, for our family—but I don’t want you holding back when it comes to Carlos.”

You blinked, slightly caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Oscar hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I mean… I’ve seen how much you sacrifice for the people you love. You’ve put so much of your own life on hold to support me, and I’ll always be grateful for that. But when it comes to Carlos—this thing between you—it’s different. I would never forgive myself if you sacrificed that for my sake.”

Your heart clenched at his words, and you realized how much Oscar understood you, maybe even more than you realized. “Oscar, I’m not holding back for you, I—”

“I know you’re not doing it consciously," he interrupted gently, "But I can see it. You’re worried about how our dynamic will change, or maybe how I’ll react. But, YN, I want you to be happy. If being with Carlos makes you happy, then I want you to go for it. Don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about anyone else.”

You sat there, absorbing what Oscar said. His words made you feel a lot of different things all at once. You realized he was right - you had been holding back, not just with Carlos, but in many parts of your life. This scared you, but also made you feel free.

It was time to put yourself first.

"I hate that you're always so wise, you're my little brother, I'm supposed to be the one giving you advice, not the other way around."

"To be fair, I was thrown into the motorsport world at an early age, you experience all kinds of drama there," he shrugged, making both of you laugh, "Now, are you going to talk to him, or do I need to drag you to Austria myself? Or even Madrid?"

You let out a small laugh, the first genuine one in days. "I guess I'll talk to him. But I still don't feel like going to Austria, I need some time to gather my thoughts."

"Fair enough," Oscar nodded, "Just don't take too long, okay? You both deserve to be happy. And Lando is freaking out because you're ruining his dreams again."

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liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri and 397,538 others

ynpiastri i almost forgot how it felt to watch a race on tv. congratulations boys 🥳 and ty to my queen @carmenmmundt for the last picture

tagged: oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, georgerussell63

view all 4,288 comments

username1 QUEEN WE MISS YOU WHAT HAPPENED

username2 the paddock is not the same without the most iconic piastri

lilyzneimer 🤍

carmenmmundt 😚😚

username3 im pretty sure this is the first time she’s not at a race since oscar’s f2 days

username4 THE 55 HELLO?????

username5 WHATS THEIR SHIP NAME?? PAINZ???

username6 she’s down bad for the smooth operator this is what i call enemies to lovers

landonorris You seem happy for my DNF…

↳ ynpiastri stfu

carlossainz55 ❤️

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You paced nervously in your apartment, your heart racing as you waited for Carlos to arrive. The soft carpet muffled your footsteps but did nothing to quiet the storm of thoughts in your head. You had rehearsed what you wanted to say a hundred times, but now that the moment was here, all your carefully prepared words seemed to evaporate.

Your eyes flitted to the clock on the wall, then to your phone, checking the time for what felt like the thousandth time. The knock on the door made you jump, your pulse skyrocketing. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. "It's just Carlos," you told yourself, but that thought brought both comfort and a new wave of anxiety.

With trembling hands, you smoothed down your shirt and ran a hand through your hair before opening the door. Carlos stood there, looking tired but as handsome as ever. His hair was slightly tousled, as if he'd been running his hands through it—a nervous habit you'd noticed before.

His eyes lit up when he saw you, a mix of relief and apprehension in his gaze. For a moment, you both just stared at each other, the air heavy with unspoken words and emotions.

"Hi," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. You stepped aside to let him in, hyper-aware of his presence as he moved past you.

"Hi," he replied, his voice warm as he entered.

You led him to the living room, settling on the couch. There was a moment of awkward silence, the tension palpable. You both opened your mouths to speak at the same time.

"I'm sorry—“

"I wanted to—"

You both laughed, some of the tension dissipating. The sound of his laughter, even tinged with nervousness, helped to ease some of your anxiety.

"You go first," Carlos said, his eyes soft as he looked at you. His gaze was patient, encouraging, and you drew strength from it.

You took a deep breath, your hands fidgeting in your lap. You forced yourself to meet his eyes, knowing he deserved your full honesty. "Carlos, I'm so sorry for running away in Barcelona. It wasn't fair to you, and I've been kicking myself ever since. I… I panicked. Everything was happening so fast, and I just… I couldn't handle it."

He nodded, his expression understanding. He reached out to take your hand, his touch sending a shiver through you. "I appreciate that, YN. Truly. But I owe you an apology too. I shouldn't have pushed you or made assumptions about your feelings. I got caught up in the moment and didn't consider how overwhelming it might be for you."

"No, Carlos, you were right," you shook your head, squeezing his hand. "I do run away when things get too real. It's not fair to you, and it's not fair to myself either."

You paused, gathering your courage. Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure Carlos must be able to hear it. "The truth is, I care about you. A lot. More than I've cared about anyone in a long time. And that terrifies me."

Carlos moved closer, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. The tenderness in his touch almost undid you. "Why does it terrify you, mi amor?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours.

You leaned into his touch, feeling tears prick at your eyes. The vulnerability of the moment was almost overwhelming, but you forced yourself to continue. "Because I'm not used to feeling this vulnerable. I've always prided myself on being independent, on not needing anyone. It's been my armor, my way of protecting myself. But with you… you see parts of me that I don't show anyone else. You've managed to slip past all my defenses, and it scares me how much I want to let you in completely."

Carlos listened intently, his thumb gently stroking your cheek as you spoke. His warmth, his steady presence, made the walls you had built around yourself seem almost unnecessary.

"It's okay to be scared, hermosa. I understand why you feel like you need to protect yourself. But you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I’m here, and I want to be here for you, with you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and despite the vulnerability, a small part of you felt lighter, freer. "I’ve never let anyone get this close before," you admitted. "But I don’t want to keep running, Carlos. I don’t want to keep pushing you away."

Carlos smiled softly, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your chest tighten. "I don’t want you to run, either. I want us to be together, whatever comes next. But only if that’s what you want."

You exhaled shakily, emotions swirling inside you like a storm. "It is what I want," you said, your voice firm but laced with emotion. "I want to be with you. I’m tired of being scared of something that could be so good."

A look of pure relief crossed Carlos' face, and he pulled you into his arms. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent, feeling his heart beating steadily under your cheek. His arms wrapped around you tightly, as if he were afraid you might disappear.

"I'm not going anywhere," you whispered, answering the unspoken fear that lingered between you both.

Carlos kissed the top of your head, his breath warm against your hair. "You have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that."

You pulled back slightly to look up at him, your hands resting on his chest, "I promise I'll change, I'll be-"

"Mi amor," Carlos interrupted softly, "I don't want to change you. I fell for you exactly as you are—stubborn, brilliant, and fiercely independent. Those are the qualities that drew me to you in the first place."

You couldn't help but smile at that, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Even when I was being a pain in your ass?" you asked, a hint of your usual sass creeping into your voice.

"Especially then," he chuckled, the sound warming you from the inside out. "You know, even when we were at each other's throats, I was always drawn to you. I wanted to know you better, to understand what made you such a firecracker."

"Really?" you asked, surprised.

"Really," he confirmed, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Besides, you were infuriatingly attractive when you were angry. The way your eyes would flash, the flush on your cheeks… it took everything in me not to kiss you right then and there sometimes."

You felt a familiar warmth spreading across your cheeks at Carlos' words, but you couldn't help the playful smirk that tugged at your lips. "Oh, so that's why you were always trying to rile me up, huh? And here I thought you were just being an insufferable little bitch."

"Ah, there's the Piastri I know," Carlos threw his head back in laughter. "I was wondering when your sharp tongue would make an appearance."

"You love it," you teased, feeling more like yourself than you had in days.

"I do," he admitted, his eyes twinkling.

Carlos' gaze dropped to your lips. Slowly, he leaned in, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn't want to. Not anymore.

Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if he was still afraid you might run. But as you responded, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer, the kiss deepened, filled with all the emotions you had both been holding back.

When you finally pulled apart, Carlos rested his forehead against yours. "I meant every word I said," he murmured. "I'm serious about this. I want to make this work."

You took a deep breath, your heart racing for an entirely different reason now. "I'm serious too, Carlos. It scares me how much I want this, but… I want to be with you."

The smile that broke across Carlos' face was radiant. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you again.

"You're still my little bitch after all," you couldn't help but laugh as you parted.

"When are you going to change that to something more romantic, hmm?" Carlos rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling. "'Mi amor,' perhaps? Or 'cariño'?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I failed Spanish in high school?" you rolled your eyes back at him. "And I thought you liked it when I called you that. Didn't you say once that it turned you on?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that statement," he said with a grin. "But how about this—you can call me your 'little bitch' if you want, but I get to call you my girlfriend. Deal?"

Your heart skipped a beat at the word 'girlfriend.' It should have scared you, but instead, it filled you with warmth.

"Deal," you agreed, pulling him in for another kiss.

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liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 402,726 others

ynpiastri fitting 💋

view all 4,688 comments

username1 OMGGGG

username2 ICONIC

alexandrasaintmleux 😂😂😂😂

username3 WHOS THE BOYFRIENDDDD

logansargeant Is this who I think it is? 👀

↳ ynpiastri little bitches everywhere

username4 THATS CARLOS CONFIRMED

username5 CARLOSYN PAINZ 😩

landonorris BITCH FINALLY

↳ username1 i bet lando manifested this

nicolepiastri We been knew since Singapore 2023, by the way

↳ ynpiastri MUM 😩

↳ username2 I LOVE YOU NICOLE PIASTRI

carlossainz55 ❤️

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The Hungarian Grand Prix had been a whirlwind of emotions. The entire paddock was still buzzing with excitement over Oscar's maiden Formula 1 victory.

Your little brother had driven the race of his life, leading most of the laps to take the checkered flag. The memory of him standing on the top step of the podium, eyes glistening with tears of joy as the Australian national anthem played, was one you'd cherish forever. The pride you felt was indescribable - your baby brother, the kid you'd watched grow up and chase his dreams, was now a Grand Prix winner.

It had been three blissful weeks since you and Carlos had officially become a couple. After your heartfelt conversation at your apartment, you had both taken the time to navigate this new phase of your relationship, and it had been everything you could have hoped for.

Telling your close friends and family was the easy part. Lando practically squealed with delight, Oscar and Carlos had a nice chat, and of course, Nicole Piastri, a fan of dragging her own kids, reminded everyone that you failed Spanish in high school multiple times, so Carlos had to make sure to constantly translate for you. The rest of the paddock had quickly caught on, and soon, Carlos Sainz and the eldest Piastri were the talk of the town.

But you didn't mind the attention. Being with Carlos felt so natural and right.

Now, as you sat in the airport waiting for your delayed flight to Monaco, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment. Sure, the hours-long delay was less than ideal, but you were surrounded by the people you cared about most, celebrating Oscar's first win with good old fasioned airport McDonalds.

"I can't believe Oscar got his first win," Lando exclaimed, already halfway through a Big Mac. "That's crazy, mate."

"I know, I still can't believe it," Oscar beamed, "It hasn't really sunk in yet."

You reached over to give your brother's arm an affectionate squeeze. "I'm so proud of you, Osc. You deserve it."

"Thanks, sister. Couldn't have done it without your support all these years."

"Oh, come on," you teased, "I didn't drive that car. That was all you out there."

"Yeah, but you've always been there," Oscar insisted, his voice softening. "Through the karting days, the junior formulas, all of it. It means a lot."

You felt a lump form in your throat, touched by your brother's words. You pulled Oscar into a tight hug, blinking back tears of pride and joy. "You're my little brother, Osc. I'll always be in your corner, no matter what."

Oscar returned the embrace, squeezing you tightly. "I know, YN. And I couldn't ask for a better cheerleader."

When you finally pulled apart, you noticed the others watching with fond smiles.

Across the lounge, Carlos was engaged in an animated conversation with Lando, their voices a low hum in the background. You couldn't help but watch him, admiring the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the graceful movement of his hands as he gesticulated. Even in casual clothes, hair slightly mussed from the long day, he took your breath away.

As if sensing your gaze, Carlos looked up, his eyes meeting yours. The soft smile that spread across his face sent a flutter through your chest. You patted the empty spot next to you on the couch, a silent invitation. He nodded, excusing himself from his conversation with Lando, which couldn't help but tease about the two of you being codependent now.

"Missing me already, mi amor?" Carlos teased as he approached.

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn't keep the smile off your face. "Don't flatter yourself, Sainz. I just didn't want you to strain your neck looking over here every five seconds."

Carlos chuckled as he sat down next to you, immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. "Ah, but how can I resist when the view is so beautiful?"

You snuggled into his side, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne. "Smooth talker," you murmured, but there was no bite to your words.

"Only for you, hermosa," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

For a while, you sat in comfortable silence, watching as the sun began to set through the large windows. The quiet was occasionally punctuated by laughter from where Oscar, Alex, and Lando were playing some sort of card game.

"How are you feeling?" you asked Carlos softly, noticing the slight droop to his shoulders.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tired," he admitted. "It's been a long few weeks. But happy," he added, squeezing you gently. "Very happy."

You smiled, reaching up to cup his cheek. "I'm glad. You drove amazingly this weekend, you know."

"Thank you," Carlos leaned into your touch, his eyes softening. "It means a lot coming from you."

Carlos let out a contented sigh, his hand coming up to cover yours where it rested on his cheek. "I can't wait for the summer break, you know?" he murmured. "Just you and me, in Mallorca. No distractions, no obligations..." he turned his head slightly to press a kiss to your palm, his gaze holding yours. "I've been looking forward to it for weeks. Getting you all to myself, finally."

"That sounds perfect," you sighed happily. "Though I hope your plans also include plenty of time for just lounging around and doing absolutely nothing."

"Of course, whatever you want, hermosa."

"Whatever I want, huh?" you teased, a mischievous glint in your eye. "That's a dangerous offer, Sainz."

"I think I can handle whatever you throw at me, Piastri," he grinned, leaning in closer.

You were about to reply when a french fry hit you squarely on the forehead. You turned to see Oscar looking at you with mock disgust.

"Seriously, you two? We're right here," he groaned.

"Oh, like you and Lily aren't just as bad," you retorted, throwing the fry back at him.

Oscar caught it mid-air, popping it into his mouth with a grin. "At least we have the decency to be gross in private."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to see you all lovey-dovey," Lando chimed in.

"Shut up, Lando," you rolled your eyes, "I seem to recall you being the one who was pushing for this whole thing in the first place."

"Yeah, well," Lando shrugged, "I'm starting to think I preferred it when Carlos thought you were insufferable and you called him a 'little bitch'."

You couldn't help but laugh at that, glancing over at Carlos and pecking his cheek. "Oh, I still do."

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liked by carlossainz55, oscarpiastri 403,664 others

ynpiastri my little brother, the grand prix winner 🥺

oscar, watching you stand on that top step today brought tears to my eyes. i still remember the day you left for boarding school to chase your racing dreams. i felt like i was losing my little brother, and a piece of my heart went with you.

but seeing you now, living your dream and achieving what so many thought impossible, all i can feel is an overwhelming sense of pride. you've grown into an incredible man and driver, but you'll always be that kid who used to steal my snacks and beg me to play race cars with him.

your journey hasn't been easy, through every challenge, every setback, you kept pushing. and now, here you are, a grand prix winner, battling with the best (and occasionally a spaniard little bitch 😩)

you've grown so much, but some things never change. like how we're celebrating this monumental victory - stuck in an airport, chowing down on mcdonald's.

i love you so much, little bro ❤️

tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris, carlossainz55, landonorris, alex_albon

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username1 im SOBBING this is so beautiful

username2 THE PIASTRI SIBLINGS ARE JUST TOO PURE

mclaren 🧡

nicolepiastri 🥲🥲🥲

username3 AHHH THE PICTURE OF HER AND CARLOS IN THE PLANE I CANT

username4 this is too pure as an eldest daughter im sobbing

username5 PAINZ CONFIRMED

carlossainz55 ❤️

↳ username1 he only comments hearts come on bro

username6 THE LANDOSCAR PIC🥺

oscarpiastri Sis, you've got me tearing up in the middle of this crowded airport. Your support has been the backbone of my journey, and I couldn't have done this without you. You've worn so many hats - cheerleader, mentor, occasional bodyguard (those Twitter wars were something else 😂 but look at you and Carlos now). But most importantly, you've been my rock. When Mum and Dad couldn't be there because of work, you stepped up. You've been my third parent in every way that counts. So yeah, we might be stuck in an airport eating McDonald's right now, but I wouldn't want to share this moment with anyone else. You're the best sister and 'bonus parent' a guy could ask for.

↳ ynpiastri bitch stop it my therapist has enough issues to deal with (ILYSM)

↳ username1 SHES SO REAL

↳ username2 OSCAR CONFIRMING CARLOS-YN

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TWITTER

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The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in oranges, pinks, and purples. The water was gently hitting the side of the yacht, making a calming sound. This peaceful feeling matched the quiet mood around you and Carlos.

You were sprawled out on the deck, lounging on plush cushions as the warm Mallorcan breeze caressed your skin. Carlos lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.

"You're staring," you murmured, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Carlos didn't even try to deny it. "How can I not?" he replied, his voice low and husky. "You're breathtaking, mi amor."

You felt a blush creep up your neck, still not entirely used to the way Carlos could make you feel with just a few words. "Flatterer," you teased, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair.

He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly in contentment. When he opened them again, the look he gave you was filled with such warmth and adoration that it made your heart skip a beat.

"It's not flattery if it's true," Carlos insisted, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

You couldn't help the small gasp that escaped you as his lips trailed up your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "Carlos," you breathed, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He hummed against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver through you. "Yes, hermosa?"

"Kiss me," you demanded softly, tugging him closer.

Carlos was more than happy to oblige, capturing your lips in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened. You lost yourself in the sensation, in the taste of him, in the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

When you finally broke apart, Carlos rested his forehead against yours. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, his accent thicker than usual.

"Good. That's the plan," you grinned

Carlos groaned, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "You'll be the death of me, Piastri."

"But what a way to go," you quipped, running your hands down his back.

He chuckled against your skin, the sound sending pleasant vibrations through you. "Indeed."

As Carlos lifted his head to look at you again, something caught your eye over his shoulder. Squinting slightly, you realized what it was and couldn't help but let out a small sigh.

"What is it?" Carlos asked, noticing the change in your expression.

"Don't look now, but we've got company," you said, nodding slightly towards the distance. "Paparazzi, about a hundred meters out."

Carlos groaned, dropping his head back to your shoulder. "Can't we have one moment of peace?"

You ran your fingers soothingly through his hair. "Hey, it's okay. We knew this was part of the deal."

"I know. I just… I want to keep you all to myself sometimes."

The possessiveness in his tone sent a thrill through you. "Well," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye, "if they're going to intrude on our privacy anyway, we might as well give them something to see."

Before Carlos could react, you pulled him down for another kiss, this one slower, deeper, and decidedly more public-friendly than your previous ones. When you pulled back, Carlos looked slightly dazed.

"Dios mio, your family is going to see those," he shook his head, "What will Nicole Piastri think of me? Oscar will run me off the track, too."

You laughed, the sound light and carefree. "Oh, please. My mum adores you, and you know it. As for Oscar, well… he'll just have to get used to it," you shrugged, "He was the one who encouraged this to happen anyway."

Carlos only shook his head with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, feeling his skin against yours.

When you finally broke apart, Carlos's eyes were soft, "Te quiero," he whispered, his voice husky and filled with emotion.

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged at your lips. "I failed Spanish, remember?" you teased gently, your heart racing in your chest.

Carlos's eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled back. "I think you know what that means," he replied, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I love you too, you little bitch."

Carlos let out a dramatic groan, but the affection in his expression was unmistakable. "I should have known the sappiness wouldn't last."

"Hey, you signed up for this," you teased, poking him playfully in the chest. "Might as well accept it."

Pulling you close, Carlos pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. "Gladly, mi amor. Gladly."

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ynpiastri he’s still a little bitch 😚

tagged: carlossainz55

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username1 AHHHH

username2 THIS HARD LAUCH

alexandrasaintmleux love to see you happy my girl 🥰

lilyzneimer 💓💓

username3 THIS is enemies to lovers

username4 i still can’t believe they’re together 😭 THEY HATED EACH OTHER

georgerussell63 WELL FINALLY

↳ alex_albon For real

↳ username1 THE ENTIRE GRID JUST KNEW

↳ ynpiastri why are all of you so damn nosy

↳ pierregasly Or you and Carlos were too obvious

↳ charles_leclerc 😂😂😂😂😂

oscarpiastri Yup, this is weird

↳ username1 OSCARRRR

oscarpiastri However, I’m really happy for you sister ❤️

↳ ynpiastri ily little indirect matchmaker

carlossainz55 You’ll never stop calling me that, won’t you hermosa?

↳ ynpiastri NEVERRR MY LITTLE BITCH FOR LIFE

[slvttyplum]

sukuna was a naturally mean person; he couldn't help but be mad at the world, especially when things didn't go his way. that was until he met you, the light in his life. he was still a dick, but not as much, but one thing that really kept him at ease was when you would sit in his lap and look at him with those beautiful eyes of yours.

he couldn't resist you, and he didn't want to. the feeling of his fingertips grazing over your body and his warm breath slowly rolling over your skin brought tingles down your spine. while everyone else was terrified of sukuna and didn't even want to utter one word to him, there you were taking him in, in more ways than one.

no one made you feel the way he did, and you thanked god. the way he would do things to you and care for you right after was something someone could only dream of. you thought it was impossible for him, but you saw right through his hard demeanor that he loved you so much that he just couldn't let you go.

being inside of you wasn't enough; he wanted to be buried deep inside. he didn't care how; he just knew he had to be inside of you and feel how warm and wet you were. He would spend hours immersing himself in you, savoring your scent, observing your reactions to his actions, and seeking validation in everything he did, all because he loved to see that beautiful smile on your face.

there was no one in this world that could make him tense up with butterflies and have pink spreading across his face every time he looked at you. to everyone else, he was just the grumpy uncle who sometimes made his appearances at family functions and glared at everyone who crossed his path, but to you, he was much more than that.

every touch he laid on your body felt like a soft kiss; every look that he gave you made butterflies erupt inside of your stomach; and the way he spoke to you made you tingle up. the feeling of him slowly pushing himself inside of you as you gasped for air and his tongue trailed over your neck made you feel amazing.

you never knew sex could feel this good.

he was delicate, but sometimes he was rough, and that was what you loved. when he didn't hesitate to roughen you up when needed, pushing himself deeper while his hips clashed into you every second, the sound of his skin slapping against yours was so lewd yet so romantic.

no day went by without sukuna sliding himself inside of your wet pussy; he just couldn't help it. you felt so good that he wanted more and more, trying to limit himself to once a day, but whenever his eyes landed on you and that body of yours, all rational thought flew out the window. his body worked faster than his brain, but he couldn't feel bad about that; you just looked so good all the time that he had to take a bite out of you.

his mouth was salivating every time he looked at you, and his dick was getting harder. this was a new feeling, and fucking you until he was tired and halfway out of breath was how he expressed it. to be fair, everything was new, smiling every day, saying more than three words every day, falling in love, having sex-all of this was the new "norm." but with you, he got through it smoothly, and he loved it, just as much as he loved you.