Don't Wake Me Up
Featuring: Chūya Nakahara
Author Chat: Part One! I feel so bad bc I have left DBH and LBH high and dry bc CHUYA FUCKING NAKAHARA has taken over my brain for the moment. Do not fret, I will return to darling Dazai, but I wanna get this short little three parter done so Chuya can leave me alone. (TBH I have a Chuya plush on the way, so he's never truly gonna leave me alone.)
Will update with main story page eventually, will also update the navigation of my page eventually... hopefully.
wc: 6.7k, sfw, slightly proofread, mild cursing, a little angsty ngl
hope you guys enjoy! Reblog and like if you enjoyed this! <3 DamzelZelda
Chūya Nakahara doesn’t dream. Or at least, he believed that he couldn’t… There was only one time he was truly able to do so, but even now that seemed like a distant memory.
"Ane-san's back! She's back!"
"Yes, finally!"
Chūya navigated through the dark, winding tunnels of the underground base, guided by the excited voices echoing off the damp stone walls. He rolled his eyes, hearing the unbridled enthusiasm in their tones about your return. The irony wasn't lost on him; you'd be gone just as quickly as you'd arrived, like a fleeting shadow. Not quite a full member of the Sheep, but not an outsider either. Your ambiguous status never sat right with him, though he grudgingly acknowledged that the others trusted you. After all, you were a member before him.
As he approached, the voices hushed to whispers. Chūya's gaze fell upon you, watching as you offered a soft, enigmatic smile to the younger teens. They looked at you with admiration, as if you were some divine being gracing them with your presence. He let out an annoyed sigh, waiting for you to finally acknowledge him.
"Happy to see me, Nakahara?" Your voice carried a hint of amusement, and your attention fluttered up to him. His eyes darted between yours and the younger Sheep among you, feeling a heat arise to his face.
He let out a puff and shifted his weight, crossing his arms as he glared at you with feigned disinterest. "Did you at least come back with something useful?" He ignored your question hoping to provoke some flicker of emotion from you.
Your head cocked to the side, a knowing smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Of course I did. Never disappointed, have I?"
Chūya could only grit his teeth, his eyebrow twitching in annoyance as he turned away. "Let's just hurry up then, that way you can go on about filling their heads with more nonsense."
Your laugh pierced the air, neither harsh nor melodious. To Chūya, it felt mocking, further souring his mood about your return. The sound of your boots clicking on the stone floor followed him as your voice lulled the others away, promising to see them before they succumbed to sleep for the night.
"If you're that envious, I could offer you a taste of what they're so excited about," you teased, your voice grating on Chūya's nerves. He felt your hand on his shoulder, halting his escape through the dim corridor.
Chūya whirled around, feeling the embarrassment rise to his face. "I'm not jealous, alright?" He snapped, hating how defensive he sounded. Despite his irritation, he couldn't bring himself to shake off your touch. Your hand was impossibly soft against his shoulder, its warmth even seeping through his jacket. He tried to ignore the way it made his skin tingle.
He watched your eyes narrow, still maintaining that infuriatingly gentle, calm look you always wore. When you spoke, your words had a teasing lilt that made Chūya's stomach do an uncomfortable flip. "Come on, Chūya. You told me once you think you can't dream. Don't you want to find out if that's really true? I could at least try, you know?"
Chūya's gaze darted between your eyes, searching for any hint of mockery. He didn't hate you, not really, but he'd never admit how much your composed presence affected him. It was unsettling, how you could make him feel so off-balance.
With a dismissive click of his tongue, Chūya shrugged your hand away. "Whatever. We don't have time for this right now, ‘kay? There's actual important stuff to deal with," he muttered, fighting to keep his voice steady.
"Ah, yes..." you mused, your tone shifting. Chūya bristled at the hint of disapproval in your voice. "I heard whispers of your little display today. Correct me if I'm wrong, but don't actions of that magnitude typically require approval from all council members?"
His eyes narrowed as he watched you glide past him. "You weren't here," he countered. "We took a vote in your absence."
You waved a dismissive hand, your casualness infuriating him further. "I would have voted against it. You’ve put quite a big target on us for attacking a Mori Corp airplane."
Chūya scoffed, trailing behind. His eyes caught glimpses of your neck as your hood slowly slipped off your head, and he quickly averted his gaze, annoyed at himself for noticing. "I was sendin’ a message. We have to show we aren’t to be messed with."
"Now, now, Chūya," you purred, spinning around so suddenly that he nearly collided with you. Your faces were mere inches apart, and he could feel the warmth of your breath as you spoke. "Your time to act would’ve come, but now, we have to act. If you had known the rumors flooding the Port Mafia right now, you’d know the time to move would’ve been any time after yesterday.”
Chūya found himself frozen, caught between the urge to step back and the inexplicable desire to remain close to you. He couldn’t even bring himself to murmur out any questions. The mischievous glint in your eyes left him simultaneously frustrated and intrigued. He hated how easily you could get under his skin, how you always seemed to know more than you let on. Yet, a part of him couldn't help but be drawn to the mystery you presented, even as he tried to deny it.
"Oh yeah? And why's that?"
Chūya felt his cheeks burn as your eyes bore into him. Why did you have to look at him like that? It was unsettling, the way you seemed to focus solely on him, ignoring the other council members. Even Shirase's attempts to catch your attention with fond glances went unnoticed. It made something twist in his stomach, a feeling he couldn't quite place.
"They'll be distracted for a while," you began, your voice low and confident. Chūya watched, trying to keep his expression neutral as you shifted your weight, placing a hand on your hip. The casual gesture shouldn't have been so... distracting. He forced his gaze back to the map.
"Rumors are circulating about the current boss and his predecessor. Seems the depths of hell couldn't hold him after all." Your finger landed on the map, and Chūya found himself following its movement as it glided between two buildings. He tried to focus on your words, not the graceful motion of your hand. There was something strained about your tone, as if you were taking the rumor personally. "It's the perfect time to strike. Two caches of newly imported booze, guarded by about five men each. They'll be too preoccupied with the rumors to properly defend them."
Chūya groaned, letting his head fall to the side to hide the conflicting emotions on his face. "No way," he muttered, hating how his voice cracked slightly.
"What's wrong, your majesty?" Your mocking tone sent a shiver down his spine that he desperately tried to ignore. "We can handle this without you. Quick in and out."
"It's too dangerous, regardless," Chūya argued, moving around the table. He stopped just before you, close enough to feel the intensity of your presence. It made him feel off-balance for a moment, and he had to fight to keep his voice steady. "You'd send barely armed, non-ability users near Port Mafia territory? Are you tryin’ to get ‘em killed?"
Your eyebrow raised, and Chūya felt his heart skip a beat. He hated how you could affect him like this. "Who said I wasn't going with them?"
Chūya clenched his fists within his pockets, a storm of conflicting emotions churning inside him. On one hand, your recklessness infuriated him. Didn't you understand the risks? The Sheep weren't just pawns to be sacrificed. But on the other hand, a part of him wanted to agree; this would be the best time to strike.
He settled for glaring at you, hoping the anger in his eyes would mask the confusion underneath. "And what if somethin’ goes wrong?" he growled, his voice low to hide its slight tremor. "The Sheep aren't expendable. We can't just throw ‘em into danger on a whim."
Chūya knew he was fighting a losing battle - both against your persuasive arguments and the inexplicable pull he felt towards you. He forced his eyes back to the map, desperately focusing on the proposed mission, on anything but how your presence seemed to fill every corner of the room. The Sheep came first. They had to. No matter how much a part of him wanted to agree with your every word.
"We could leave it to a vote?" Your voice drew his attention back like a magnet. He noticed your hands clasped behind your back, a gesture he'd seen countless times before. It irked him how such a simple thing could look so authoritative coming from you.
Chūya sighed, rolling his eyes as he looked to Shirase, hoping to find an ally. "My vote's obviously a 'no'." He hated how his voice betrayed his frustration.
Shirase, predictable as ever, nodded in agreement with you. The others murmured amongst themselves, and Chūya felt his irritation growing. Always caught between the two of you, never able to make a decision on their own.
He scanned their faces, already sensing his defeat. "Fine," he spat, "but I'm not savin' your asses if you get caught." The words tasted bitter in his mouth.
He always lost when it came to you. You held more sway, more influence over their decisions than he ever could. Some 'King' they'd made him. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, shoulders hunching slightly.
"No."
Your voice cut through his thoughts. Chūya's head snapped up, confusion etched on his face as you turned to address the others. "I'll leave the room, allowing for an anonymous vote. I understand Chūya has some doubts."
You turned back to him, offering a small bow that left him feeling off-balance. "You should at least be able to state your case. I have other matters to attend to now that I've shared the information."
Chūya stared at you, caught off guard by this unexpected move. He couldn't quite read the expression in your eyes, and it left him feeling even more unsettled than before. As you moved to leave, he felt a confusing mix of relief and an unwelcome urge to ask you to stay. He pushed both feelings aside, focusing instead on the opportunity you'd just handed him. Maybe, he could turn this around without you there to sway everyone's opinion and save himself the headache.
In the shadows of a dilapidated warehouse, just above the war room, Chūya found you cradling two of the younger Sheep members. The kids were about thirteen, he guessed. Your hands hovered above the children's heads, emanating a soft blue glow that shifted to lavender as Chūya approached. The sight mesmerized him—your ability manifesting like the northern lights dancing across a night sky.
Chūya whispered your name, his voice barely audible over the creaks and groans of the decrepit shelter. As the glow faded from your hands, you turned to him, your eyes holding a warmth that seemed out of place in their world. With practiced gentleness, you tucked the kids into threadbare futons, pulling frayed sheets over thin shoulders.
He could never quite figure you out. These tender actions contrasted sharply with the impulsive, almost reckless decisions you made during missions. It was as if two people inhabited your body, and Chūya never knew which one he'd encounter.
"I thought your ability was about creating dreams," he said, meeting your gaze. Something in your eyes made him uneasy—an invitation to a hidden world you longed to share. The idea tempted him, but the dark circles under your eyes betrayed the toll it took.
"Dreams are just part of it," you explained softly. "I can manipulate the entire sleep cycle, pushing someone through different stages at will. Dreams are flashy, but the real power is in controlling sleep's restorative aspects."
Chūya nodded, processing this. Your ability, like you, remained a mystery. Standing in the gloom, surrounded by their sleeping makeshift family, he wondered what other secrets you held.
"So, you're giving them... what, super-sleep?" he assumed.
You chuckled. "Something like that. They'll wake feeling more rested than they have in years."
Comfortable silence fell, broken only by soft breathing and distant sounds of city life. Chūya found himself stealing glances, noticing how the dim light caught in your eyes and the slight furrow of concentration between your brows.
Suddenly, you huffed out a small laugh and snaked your arm around his. "Come on. I have one more piece of information to relay."
"Wha—what?" Chūya stammered, feeling a strange heaviness as you tugged his arm. He jerked back, confused. "Where are we going?"
Your face softened in understanding. Leaning in, you cupped your cheek and whispered, "We have to go where the walls can't listen."
Curiosity overrode his hesitation. What information could be so sensitive? He allowed you to link your arm with his again, walking compliantly as you led him through the drafty corridors of the abandoned building. This place, meager as it was, was home to him and the other Sheep. He wondered if you felt the same, given how often you vanished into the shadows, hunting for information.
As you neared the back door leading to roof access, a voice called out your name. Shirase. Chūya noticed the flash of irritation across your face and had to suppress a grin.
You forced Chūya to turn with you, and he suddenly realized how this might look to Shirase—the two of you walking arm-in-arm in the darkness, an oddly intimate picture.
"Shirase." Your voice was strained, patience clearly already wearing thin.
Chūya tensed, sensing the underlying current of tension. Whatever information you wanted to share, it was clear Shirase's interruption was unwelcome. The air grew thick with awkwardness as Shirase approached, giving Chūya an odd glance before focusing entirely on you.
"Hey, so..." Shirase began, his voice cracking slightly. He ran a hand through his messy hair, a nervous habit Chūya had noticed before. "I was wondering if you wouldn't mind... you know..." He raised his hands, wiggling his fingers in a vague gesture that made Chūya cringe inwardly. "Doing your thing... your ability... on me?"
Chūya fought the urge to roll his eyes. Shirase's crush on you was painfully obvious, and his clumsy attempts at flirtation were almost unbearable to watch. The way Shirase stood there, with that goofy grin plastered across his face, made Chūya want to disappear into the shadows.
You answered in a tone that was polite but firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. "I'm honestly really tired, Shirase. I've got to leave early tomorrow for the next assignment, since we aren’t going for the alcohol. You know how it is."
Chūya watched as Shirase's face fell, the rejection hitting him like a physical blow. It was almost pitiful, the way his shoulders slumped and his eyes dulled.
"Oh, yeah, sure. I totally understand, no big deal," Shirase mumbled, his gaze darting to Chūya. The look in his eyes was a mixture of embarrassment and something darker.
Chūya shifted uncomfortably, suddenly very aware of your arm still linked with his. He wanted to say something, to break the suffocating silence, but words failed him. The whole situation was mortifying, and he found himself wishing he could use his ability to manipulate gravity and just float away from this awkward position, but he remained still.
You cleared your throat, your voice taking on a gentler tone. "Look, Shirase, I appreciate the thought. But my ability isn't something to be used lightly. It takes a lot out of me, and right now, I need to conserve my energy. You understand, right?"
Shirase nodded glumly, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Yeah, of course. The mission comes first. Always does."
Chūya felt a twinge of sympathy for Shirase, despite his annoyance at the interruption. They were all so young, thrust into this dangerous world of abilities and shadowy organizations. Moments like these – awkward, painfully human moments – were rare and somehow made everything feel more surreal.
"Maybe another time," you added, though Chūya could tell from your tone that you didn't mean it. "We should all get some rest."
As Shirase mumbled a goodbye and shuffled away, Chūya felt the tension in your arm relax slightly. He glanced at you, noticing the way your eyes followed Shirase's retreating form with a mixture of pity and frustration.
"That was..." Chūya started, not sure how to finish the sentence.
You sighed, a wry smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "Yeah, it was. Come on, we still need to talk."
You guided him towards the door, grasping the ladder outside. As you hoisted yourself up, Chūya followed, trying his best to focus on the rungs rather than... other things. He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut at the thought. Instead, he noticed the absence of your blue bracelet, finding it odd you didn't wear it even when wandering the halls of their base.
A sigh of relief escaped you as you reached the top. Chūya looked up to see you glancing down at him, a mischievous smile stitched across your face.
"Couldn't you have just used your ability and beat me up here?" you teased.
Chūya laughed, shaking his head. "Where would’ve been the fun in that? Also, I was followin’ your lead. Chivalry isn't dead, you know."
"Oh, how very gallant of you, King Chūya," you replied with an exaggerated curtsy.
He watched as you moved to the edge of the metal roof, sitting down with a dull thud. He followed suit, leaning back on his arms and gazing up at the star-studded sky. Despite the living conditions, at least it always came with a beautiful view...
"I'll probably be gone for a while..." you spoke into the midnight air, snapping his attention back to you.
"Oh? Planning a vacation?" Chūya quipped, raising an eyebrow.
You gave a small laugh. "Wouldn't you want to extend your outing after an awkward encounter like that? I hear Siberia's lovely this time of year."
He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. "I haven't really been on the receiving end of unwanted attention like that.”
You expelled air dramatically. "Are you kidding me? Yuan practically has heart-eyes whenever you so much as breathe in her direction."
Chūya’s eyebrows shot up. "Nah, I don't really notice her like that. She probably just wants to see my ability in action or something."
"That's the thing though, isn't it?" Your voice softened as you curled your legs inward, resting your chin on your knees.
"It's like..." you continued, your voice soft and contemplative, "to them, we're these larger-than-life figures. Not quite gods, but definitely not just regular humans either. In their eyes, we can do no wrong. We're the kings and queens they make us out to be."
Your words hung in the air between you, heavy with implications. Chūya found himself staring out at the city lights, pondering this new perspective.
"But we're not," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm no king... even though everyone keeps callin’ me one… We're just... us. Right?"
You turned to him, a sad smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, we are. But sometimes I wonder if anyone else sees that anymore."
A comfortable silence fell between you as you flattened your legs on the metal roof. Chūya noticed you picking at your hands, the skin red and raw. Without thinking, he reached out and grasped your hand to stop you.
You looked up at him, hesitation in your eyes before speaking. "What I wanted to tell you, without anyone else hearing... it's about the old Port Mafia boss."
Chūya felt a jolt of excitement mixed with apprehension. "What about him?"
You grasped Chūya's hand tighter, the touch unfamiliar but oddly comforting. His eyes widened slightly at the gesture, but he didn't pull away. "The rumors..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "they're saying Arahabaki has something to do with his return."
Chūya's breath hitched, a mix of curiosity and unease washing over him. "What? What do you mean?" he pressed, leaning in closer, his red hair catching the moonlight.
You shook your head, frustration evident in your voice. "That's all I could get. I tried to find out more, I really did. I'm sorry." Your shoulders slumped slightly, disappointment clear in your posture.
"Hey, nothing to be sorry about," Chūya said, his tone softening as he tried to catch your eyes. A reassuring smile played on his lips. "I know getting that information must've been tough, considering."
You hummed in response, a wry smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Anything to do with the Port Mafia is nothing short of exhausting, especially after being their property…"
Chūya tensed up momentarily, thinking back to your explanation of your escape and arrival at the Sheep. He quickly shook off the dark thoughts, focusing on the present.
"Oh, and there's more." You squeezed his hand, drawing his attention back to your words. "Supposedly, there's going to be a Port Mafia member lurking around Suribachi, searching for information."
"Dammit," Chūya hissed, his free hand clenching into a fist. Then, a mischievous glint appeared in his eye. "Of course they're gonna snoop around our territory. But... it could be an opportunity."
Your grip on his jacket sleeve tightened, concern evident in your voice. "Just promise, nothing reckless like today."
A playful smirk crossed Chūya's lips, his earlier tension melting away. "Shouldn't I be telling you that? You're the one constantly putting yourself in the Port Mafia's crosshairs."
You returned his smile, a mischievous glint in your eye. "I have my ways. Men will do a lot for a good dream and rest."
Chūya huffed out a laugh, remembering Shirase's earlier request and your offer. His curiosity piqued, he asked, "Speaking of... if you were to give me a dream, what would it be?"
You glanced back at the cityscape, considering for a moment. "A good life... one where you didn't constantly worry about the Sheep or whoever you were over. Where being 'king' just means being strong and respected, not having all this weight on your shoulders." You turned to him, a soft determination in your eyes. "I'd make that true for you."
Chūya nodded, looking out at the city, the lights twinkling like earthbound stars. "Sounds like a good dream," he said softly, not quite grasping the full depth of your words, but appreciating the sentiment all the same.
He nudged your shoulder playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "But hey, who needs dreams when we've got all this?" He gestured dramatically at their surroundings - the rusty metal roof, the distant glow of the city, the vast starry sky above.
You snorted, rolling your eyes. "Oh yes, living the high life here on our luxury penthouse."
"Exactly!" Chūya grinned, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "Five-star accommodations, breathtaking views, excellent company... what more could a guy ask for?"
Your laughter, genuine and unguarded, filled the night air, and Chūya found himself grinning wider, enjoying the sound.
"You know," you said after a while, your voice taking on a more serious tone, "whatever happens with this Port Mafia business, whatever turns up with Arahabaki... we've got this, right? You and me, the Sheep... we'll figure it out."
Chūya felt a warmth spread through his chest as he gazed at you, his friend and confidant, silhouetted against the night sky. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice filled with determination and a hint of excitement for whatever challenges lay ahead. "We've got this."
He watched curiously as you gave a curt smile and began unzipping your outermost jacket. "Here," you said, shrugging it off.
"Hmm?" Chūya's eyebrows quirked up, wondering what you were up to. He observed as you bundled up the jacket and placed it behind him with a gentle pat.
The nudge on his shoulder caught him by surprise. "I'll give you a dream," you explained. "Just a real quick one, twenty minutes tops."
Chūya hesitated for a moment before giving in to your urging. As he laid his head onto your jacket, he couldn't help but notice the lingering warmth you had left behind. It was... nice. Comfortable. "Oh yeah?" he quipped, unable to resist teasing. "That dream you mentioned earlier seems like it'd take longer than twenty minutes."
Your laugh rang out once again in the night air. He watched as you raised your hand above his head, your fingers hovering just above his eyes. "No, I just had another idea. A dream where you'd actually win at an arcade game for once."
"Hey!" Chūya protested, his hand shooting up to grab your wrist. "That was one time." He felt a flicker of embarrassment at the memory, but it was overshadowed by amusement.
Your playful head tilt and the smile that followed made Chūya's cheeks warm unexpectedly. "Oh yeah? Then how come it kept happening?" you challenged.
He scoffed, releasing your wrist in feigned annoyance, but he couldn't quite keep the smile off his face. "Whatever, just try and give me this dream," he grumbled good-naturedly.
The sudden smack on his chest caught him off guard. "If you even act angry it'll affect the dream so stop it," you warned, your tone light but your eyes serious.
Chūya closed his eyes, exhaling sharply as he tried to empty his mind. It was harder than usual, especially with your presence so close, warm and comforting beside him.
"Ability: Exhaustion," he heard you intone softly.
As sleep began to tug at the edges of his consciousness, Chūya found himself both skeptical and hopeful. All he ever saw when sleeping was emptiness, a void of darkness. But if you could actually manipulate a dream for him... well, he hoped he'd remember it. The thought of experiencing a real dream, even if it was just about winning an arcade game, filled him with a childlike excitement he hadn't felt in a long time.
Chūya stood before the full-length mirror in his apartment, his nimble fingers working on the knot of his silk tie. The warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the room. He hadn't realized he had zoned out until a sharp vibration from his suit pocket jolted him back to reality.
A scowl crossed his face as he remembered Mori's insistence on his attendance at this event. A gathering of executives, sub-executives, and other Port Mafia affiliates was enough to make his blood simmer with irritation. Social niceties had never been his strong suit.
With a sigh, he slid his hand into his pocket, retrieving his phone. Kōyō's name flashed on the screen, and he could practically hear her stern voice already. No doubt she was calling to ensure he hadn't found some convenient excuse to bow out.
"What?" he answered, his tone clipped as he wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder, returning his attention to the stubborn tie.
Kōyō's voice came through, tinged with exasperation. "Are you even dressed yet? I feel like I've been waiting down here for over twenty minutes."
Twenty minutes, tops. The unbidden thought flashed through Chūya's mind, accompanied by a fragment of a long-ago memory. He shook his head, nearly dropping the phone in the process.
"I'm nearly done," he grumbled, finally conquering the tie. "Whatcha so in a rush for, huh? Not like this is a business meetin' or anythin'."
He heard Kōyō sigh on the other end, a sound he was all too familiar with. "Have I taught you nothing about punctuality, Chūya?"
Rolling his eyes, he set the phone down on the dresser, speaking louder as he shrugged into his jacket. "It doesn't even start till thirty minutes from now, we're fine!"
A groan emitted from the receiver, followed by Kōyō's voice, quieter now. "You really have learned nothing."
Chūya snatched up his favorite hat, settling it at a rakish angle on his head before picking up the phone again. "You gonna keep lecturin' me or should I just call it quits on this whole thing?"
He could practically see Kōyō's stern expression through the phone. Despite his irritation, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Some things never changed, and Kōyō's motherly concern was one of them.
"Just get down here," she said, a hint of fondness creeping into her tone. "And Chūya? Try not to scowl too much. It's unbecoming."
With a theatrical sigh, Chūya ended the call. He cast one last glance in the mirror, adjusting his hat slightly. The man staring back at him looked every inch the Port Mafia executive, but his eyes held a hint of something else. He shook that feeling off too. He didn’t need anyone questioning him tonight about his thoughts of days long gone.
Even as the sleek black car glided through the neon-lit streets of Yokohama, Chūya couldn't help but drift back to the memories that had surfaced earlier. The plush leather seat beside Kōyō felt a world away from the cold, hard rooftops of his youth.
He remembered that night, waking up with a smile that had become foreign to him since joining the Mafia. Your face had been hovering above him, alight with excitement to share the dream and hear his thoughts. In a rare moment of unbridled joy, he had hugged you tightly. You were warm despite the cool breeze, your heartbeat seemingly synchronized with his own.
Chūya squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push the memories away. You had told him to forget, after all. But the images kept coming, vivid and relentless.
He saw you crouching before him, water splashing up and soaking your jacket. You were dressed in all black, an oversized hood casting shadows across your face, leaving only sadness visible in your eyes.
"Heard some rumors about you, Chūya," your voice echoed in his mind, "about the Sheep."
He remembered the pain, the stab wound in his stomach pulsating with each labored breath.
"The Sheep... they're gonna be split up. That way something like this doesn't happen again."
Even now, years later, he could feel the grimace on his face as he had looked up at you. "What about you?"
Your soft smile, the gentle touch as you brushed stray hairs from his face - it all felt so real. The handkerchief you had produced from your jacket, wiping away the sweat from his brow.
"I'm not a member of the Sheep, Chūya. Not really, remember?" Your words had stung more than the wound. "So... it's best you forget about me."
He had wanted to reach out, to grasp onto you, but his body wouldn't cooperate.
"But, that dream, what I made for you nights ago... I think you're gonna get that now. The Port Mafia will take care of you, Chūya."
Even now, he wanted to object, to call out the lies. It couldn't have been real, just a nightmare born from blood loss and pain.
"You'll be a king. Just... don't let people get into that head of yours."
The memory of your touch on his cheek, the soft press of your lips against his forehead - it all felt too vivid, too real to be just a recollection.
"Even throughout our endless bickering and fighting because our passions differed," your whispered words ghosted across his skin, "And of all the dreams I've had, you were always in my favorite ones."
Chūya's eyes snapped open, the present rushing back in a flood of sensory input. The purr of the car engine, the faint scent of Kōyō's perfume, the glittering lights of Yokohama streaming past the tinted windows. He took a deep, steadying breath, pushing the memories back into the recesses of his mind.
He was Chūya Nakahara, executive of the Port Mafia now. A ‘king’, just as you had predicted. But as he straightened his tie and adjusted his hat, he couldn't help but wonder if this was truly the dream you had envisioned for him all those years ago.
"What's got you all silent for once?" Kōyō's melodic voice cut through Chūya's reverie, accompanied by a gentle nudge from her ornate fan.
Chūya scoffed, crossing his arms defensively as he shifted in his seat. The leather creaked softly beneath him. "Can't I be silent in peace? Already don't wanna go to this event," he grumbled, his reflection in the window scowling back at him.
Kōyō's laughter filled the car, light and airy. With a practiced flick of her wrist, she opened her fan, the intricate design catching the passing streetlights. "Surely it won't be that bad," she mused, fanning herself gently. "Just come and make an appearance, and maybe Mori will allow you to leave early."
Chūya rolled his eyes, the action exaggerated by the tilt of his hat. "What's the point of this event if even Mori's going to mope the entire time?" he retorted, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice. "He's still not over that bastard up and leavin'."
A playful lilt colored Kōyō's response, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sounds like you aren't either."
Chūya's eyes widened, his body recoiling as if he'd been struck. The mere suggestion sent a jolt of indignation through him. "Hey! I'm glad that suicidal bastard ain't here anymore!" he snapped, his voice rising sharply in the confined space of the car.
Kōyō's laughter only grew at his reaction, the sound both infuriating and oddly comforting. Chūya gritted his teeth, choosing to let it go rather than dig himself deeper. With a low growl, he turned back to the window, watching as familiar buildings rushed past in a blur of neon and shadow.
Not much longer now, he thought to himself. Then he could make his appearance, play his part, and leave all the sooner.
As the car jerked to a halt, Chūya’s hand was already on the door handle. He pushed himself out, the cool night air a welcome change from the stuffy interior. Turning back, he offered his hand to Kōyō, feeling the delicate pressure of her fingers as she gracefully exited the vehicle.
Closing the door behind her, Chūya took a moment to survey his surroundings. The buzz of anticipation in the air was almost palpable, mixing with the subtle scents of expensive colognes and the night-blooming flowers adorning the entrance. A steady stream of Port Mafia members and affiliates moved towards the building, their finery a stark contrast to the shadows at the edges of the property.
Chūya’s eyes were drawn upward, tracing the lines of the imposing structure before him. The 'Mori Corporation' sign gleamed overhead, its golden letters a beacon in the night. He couldn't help but smirk at the audacity of it all.
Following Kōyō's lead, Chūya stepped into the building. The familiar opulence of the interior hit him anew – soaring ceilings, glittering chandeliers, and the low hum of power that seemed to emanate from every surface. Even after five years, a part of him still marveled at the sheer grandeur the Port Mafia commanded.
His gaze swept the room, cataloging faces both familiar and unknown. Leaning closer to Kōyō, he muttered, "So, who's even here from the affiliates? We don't really deal with them, that's Mori's business."
"Well," Kōyō began as they approached the bar, "I believe the Nagano group Shirubā Sanzu's leader is here. I can never remember his name." She waved dismissively, clearly unbothered by the lapse in memory.
Chūya grabbed two champagne flutes, handing one to Kōyō as she continued. "The Tokyo sister group Onikai is here too. I remember when that girl used to be just an assassin and whisperer. She was so good, I surely thought she'd make executive, but no! She took the job of taking over that syndicate group. She hardly ever shows up to these though."
As Kōyō reminisced, Chūya’s attention drifted. His eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Mori. Good, now he could make his presence known and start planning his escape from this tedious affair.
As he began to move towards Mori, Kōyō following, something made him pause. There was a smaller figure beside the Port Mafia boss, and for a moment, Chūya felt as if the ground had shifted beneath his feet. It couldn't be... could it?
"Then the Mito group—" Kōyō continued, but Chūya cut her off abruptly.
"Wait," he said, his voice tight with sudden tension. "Go back. The other group – what's the leader's name?"
Kōyō's response sent a jolt through him. The name she spoke – it was so close to yours, yet more formal, a longer version of your name. As if she were talking about a person he once knew intimately, now turned stranger.
"I actually think that might be her over there," Kōyō added, but Chūya barely heard her.
His heart pounded against his ribs as he strained to get a better look at the woman speaking with Mori. A whirlwind of emotions surged through him – disbelief warring with hope, uncertainty tinged with a sharp edge of something he couldn't quite name. Could it really be you? After all this time?
Chūya's world narrowed to a single point of focus. He had to know. He had to see your face and confirm whether the past he'd thought long buried was about to come crashing back into his present. Without a word, he passed his champagne flute to Kōyō, barely registering her questioning look in his peripheral vision.
His feet began to move of their own accord, carrying him forward. He didn't care if he was about to make a fool of himself. He had to know he wasn't dreaming.
As he drew nearer, Mori's smooth voice drifted into earshot. "I just wish you would return, my dear. I could instate someone else for you to come back. It's just too nice to finally see you in person again. Ah, it makes me remember your youth."
Your voice – so familiar, yet changed – came clearly in response, laughing off the proposal. "And let my hard work go to waste? Come now, Mori, you know better than I that this has been the best venture for me, for us."
Chūya's gaze locked onto you. Your eyes squinted as you smiled, a practiced look you had no doubt given thousands of times. Mori merely chuckled at your rejection, one you had probably offered several times before.
He noticed your hands clasped behind your back, fingers mindlessly picking and rubbing your nails together – a habit he remembered all too well.
Chūya's lips parted, but no sound came out. He tried to steady his breathing, silently cursing his quickening pulse. He swallowed hard and tried again, hearing your name leave his lips in a shaky whisper.
Mori turned first, then you. Chūya couldn't read the expression on your face, only noticing your eyes dart between his as your lips parted in surprise.
If it weren't for Mori's knowing chuckle, Chūya might have remained frozen in disbelief.
"I'll let you handle this one, dear," Mori said, his tone laced with amusement. "Seems it's time for you to clean up your mess." He patted you on the shoulder before giving a small bow to Chūya and departing.
Chūya watched as your eyes drifted downward, your gaze seeming to bore holes into the polished marble floor. He caught the sharp exhale that escaped your pursed lips, the sound barely audible above the ambient chatter of the gathering. Your shoulders tensed, a minute movement that he might have missed if he hadn't been so intently focused on every detail of your presence.
You gave a harsh swallow, your throat bobbing visibly with the effort. Chūya's eyes traced the familiar line of your neck, memories flooding back unbidden. Slowly, achingly slowly, you raised your head to meet his gaze.
The look in your eyes struck him like a physical blow. It was a complex mixture of emotions – regret, apprehension, and something that looked unsettlingly like pity. Your brows were slightly furrowed, creating a small crease between them that Chūya had the absurd urge to smooth away with his thumb.
"Chūya," you began, your voice soft and hesitant, a stark contrast to the confident tones you'd used with Mori moments ago. "I can explain."
43 notes
·
View notes
little bitch - cs55
summary: yn piastri and carlos sainz absolutely hate each other. carlos thinks she’s immature, yn calls him a little bitch on social media. they also kiss every now and then. PART TWO
word count: over 10k + social media posts
folkie radio: guys this fic is my baby okay 🥲🥲 please take care of it i spent like two weeks writing it. FEEDBACK IS ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED !!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
2023 SEASON
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 87,635 others
ynpiastri that’s my optimistic little brother cry about it 😚 see y’all after the break
view all 1,207 comments
username1 LAJSIA SO MESSY
username2 yn really said you will NAWT mess with my little brother
lilyzneimer Love you forever 😂
↳ ynpiastri ilysm
username3 the sainz - piastri drama just spiced this season up
mclaren That’s our boy 🧡
username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri fighting on the internet and oscar is just 🧍
username5 the fact that daniel ricciardo and pierre gasly liked yn’s tweet too 😭
landonorris Stop fighting people on the internet please
↳username1 HELP HIS BESTIES ARE FIGHTING
↳ ynpiastri never 😤
oscarpiastri When nobody got me I know my messy sister got me
↳ username2 I LOVE THEM SM
↳ yourinstagram HE SAID NO PICKLES !!
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
"You didn't have to tweet that," Oscar said, giving you a look from his seat.
You were currently traveling from Belgium to Monaco in McLaren's private jet after the race weekend, and the main topic of the day was your little message to Carlos Sainz after his statement about your brother.
"Osc, he's being a petty bitch," you shrugged, "He keeps blaming you for what happened on the track and we all know it was his fault."
"Lando, can you help me out please?" Oscar looked at his teammate, who was immersed on his phone as a way to avoid the conversation.
"Oh no, don't put me in the middle of this," Lando shook his head, "I have enough PR issues myself."
"We know you're siding with your bestie anyways," you said, making him roll his eyes.
This dynamic was nothing new. Lando and Carlos Sainz were best friends, and so were Lando and you. The issue? You couldn't stand Carlos at all, and Lando was always in the middle of your bickering.
Oscar sighed, rubbing his temples as he glanced out of the window. "Look, I appreciate you standing up for me, but sometimes it's better to let things slide. Engaging with him on social media only adds fuel to the fire."
He had a point. Deep down you knew it, however, your were short tempered and protective towards your loved ones, so it was natural that you took the chance to come for Sainz's neck when he gave you a reason to.
"I get it, Osc. I just can't stand seeing him drag your name through the mud when you're not even at fault," you stressed, "You're my little brother, I'll always get protective, you know?"
"I know, and I appreciate you having my back," Oscar said, softening his tone. "But it's not worth it. Like you said, I'm not engaging with whatever he's saying so there's no point of starting stuff."
"He started it, I'm just finishing it," you shrugged, and Oscar gave you a pointed look, you were older than him, but he was definitely more mature than you. "Fine, I'll try to hold back next time," you sighed, leaning back in your seat.
Lando finally looked up from his phone, a smirk on his face. "See, that wasn't too hard, was it? Now, can we all be friends?"
"If that includes Sainz then no, we can't,"
You could never be friends with Carlos Sainz. That was literally impossible.
For starters, you were pretty sure he didn't even know your name, he was always too full of himself to even acknowledge those around him.
And lastly, he was a bitch to your brother on and off track.
"I just, I would really like for you two to get along," Lando said and you immediately rolled your eyes at his words, "You're both important to me, and it sucks being caught in the middle. Plus I don't even understand why do you dislike him so much."
You knew the real reason why you disliked him so much, you perfectly did. However, that was a subject that you decided to ignore every single time.
"Honestly? I find him arrogant. He always acts like he's the center of the universe. He never takes responsibility for his actions and always tries to shift the blame onto others. It's frustrating to watch."
Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I get it, but you have to understand, Carlos is actually a good guy once you get to know him. He's passionate and competitive, sure, but he's also loyal and a great friend."
"I get that he's like your hero or something," you teased, "But it's not going to happen, Lando. I don't think I'll ever like Carlos, and I really wish you’d stop pushing the subject."
"Look, you don't have to be his best friend or something," Oscar intervened, "Just promise me you won't punch him when you see him in the paddock after the summer break."
"No promises."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
INSTAGRAM
liked by lilymhe, landonorris and 105,726 others
ynpiastri a weekend in monaco with some of my favorite people 🤍 back to race cars soooon (love being a nepo sister)
tagged: oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris
view all 2,011 comments
username1 SLAAAY
username2 ahhhh lily x oscar content thank u yn
francisca.cgomes having major fomo rn, love you all babies 🥲
↳ ynpiastri get over hereeeee
username3 she has the dream life
charles_leclerc Stop stealing my girlfriend from me thank you
↳ ynpiastri never
↳ alexandrasaintmleux We’re like this 👩❤️💋👩
↳ charles_leclerc Don’t do this to me
lilyzneimer 🤍
oscarpiastri I think you just invented the term “nepo sister”
↳ ynpiastri and i’m too iconic for that
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
Going to Jimmy'z the last day of the summer break was a tradition among the drivers at this point.
You looked forward to it, for you, nothing could beat a night of loud music, drinks and friends. You thought that was the reason you got along with Lando and quickly became best friends.
“Ready to tear up the dance floor?” Lando shouted over the music, giving you smirk
“Always!” you replied, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the center of the action, Oscar and Lily being their introvert selves decided to stay at the table with some of your friends.
After a few songs, you returned to the table to catch your breath and order another round of drinks.
Oscar looked up from his conversation with Lily and smiled as you approached.
“Having fun?” he asked.
“Absolutely,” you replied, taking a seat next to him. “You two should join us on the dance floor.”
Lily laughed softly. “Maybe later. Right now, we’re enjoying people-watching.”
“Suit yourselves,” you said, shrugging, "I'm going to the bar, does anyone want anything?"
Oscar shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm good."
"I'll have another gin and tonic," Lily said, giving you a warm smile.
"Got it," you replied, turning towards the bar.
As you made your way through the crowded club, you found an open spot at the bar and flagged down the bartender. As you waited for your drinks, you felt someone step up beside you. Glancing to your left, you saw the last person you wanted to run into tonight... or ever.
Carlos Sainz was standing there with what you called his "resting bitch face" and acting like he owned the place.
You knew chances of him being at Jimmy'z for the last day of the summer break were high and you had decided earlier that you were just going to ignore him for the night if you ever ran into him. After all, you were there to have fun, not to get into a confrontation. But you were known for being short-tempered, a stark contrast to your brother's laid-back demeanor.
When you heard Carlos order his drink without so much as a “please,” you couldn't help but call him out.
"Whiskey, neat," he ordered, his tone clipped and lacking any form of politeness, his Spanish accent that you found absolutely irritating coming through.
“A 'please' would be nice, you know,” you interjected.
Carlos turned to you, his brow furrowing. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” you replied coolly. “It's not hard to be polite.”
"Do I know you?" Carlos stared at you for a moment before recognition dawned. “Oh you're Piastri's sister, aren't you?”
“That I am,” you confirmed, your tone equally cold.
“Figures," Carlos scoffed, shaking his head, "You’re the one who sent me that lovely message on Twitter.”
“You deserved every word,” you replied, crossing your arms.
“Did I now?” Carlos leaned closer, his expression hardening. “You don't even know the whole story. You just assume I'm the bad guy because of Oscar."
“I know enough,” you shot back. “I know you never take responsibility for your actions. You always blame someone else.”
“And what about you?," Carlos’s jaw tightened, "Hiding behind your keyboard, throwing insults. That's real mature.”
“Someone had to say it,” you replied, refusing to back down. “You can't just go around acting like you're untouchable.”
“And you can't go around thinking you're some kind of vigilante,” Carlos retorted. “Can't your little brother handle things himself?.”
“Maybe if you weren't such a jerk, people wouldn't have to call you out,” you snapped, feeling your temper flare.
Carlos sighed, clearly frustrated. “Look, I don't have time for this. Just stay out of my way, alright?”
“Gladly,” you replied, turning away from him.
When you rejoined your friends, they noticed your tense expression. Lando shot you a questioning look, but you just shook your head.
"Ask you bestie," you simply said and Lando threw his head back in frustration, once again, he was in the middle of his two best friends tension.
“I’ll talk to him," Lando said, sipping on his drink.
"Don't bother, he's a bitch."
Later that night, Lando found Carlos near the dancefloor chatting with some friends. He pulled him aside, needing to get to the bottom of the latest incident.
“What happened with YN now?” Lando asked, trying to keep his tone casual.
Carlos shrugged before speaking, “I was minding my own business, ordering a drink, and she just came at me."
“And?” Lando raised an eyebrow.
“And she’s just so immature and arrogant,” Carlos continued, “She’s always ready to pick a fight over the smallest things. It’s embarrassing.”
Lando shook his head. “Look, Carlos, YN is protective of Oscar. She sees you two butting heads and she gets defensive. It’s not ideal, but it’s not like she’s completely unreasonable.”
“Well, she sure seems unreasonable to me," Carlos crossed his arms, "I don’t know how you deal with it.”
Lando sighed. “She’s my friend, and so are you. I wish you two could just get along, but I know that’s asking a lot. Just... try to give her a bit of slack, alright? She’s not a bad person.”
"She's insufferable."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
ynpiastri has added to their stories
carlossainz55 replied to your story
TWITTER
INSTAGRAM
liked by alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and 168,373 others
ynpiastri little bitches everywhere, always a pleasure monza
tagged: landonorris, charles_leclerc
view all 2,769 comments
username1 HEEEELP
username2 she’s so messy we needed this 😭
lilyzneimer I can’t wait to hear this rant in person
↳ username1 LET ME INNNNN
username3 IS THIS CARLOS SHADEEEE
username4 not her adding the radio message
landonorris I would like to be excluded from this narrative
↳ ynpiastri scared of your boyfriend??
↳ username2 THEY’RE SO TALKING ABOUT CARLOS 😭
charles_leclerc Did you call me a little bitch?
↳ ynpiastri you’re literally the only ferrari i like..
↳ username3 she really hates carlos i’m screaming
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The Ferrari hospitality was the last place you wanted to be during a Grand Prix, the mere thought of it being the place where Sainz (or as you liked to call him, the little bitch), was most likely to be kept you away from it.
However, Alex told you to meet her there after the Qualifying so you could leave together for dinner. Oscar and Lando already left with the rest of the team, so you had no choice but to wait for your friend.
"Looking for someone, hermosa?" your eyes immediately rolled without even turning around to see who was speaking, the thick Spanish accent that you despised filling your ears.
"Not for you, that's for sure," you said, not even bothering to face him.
"Are you sure? Because this is not the McLaren garage, did your little bro finally kick you out or something?"
"Sainz," you retorted sharply, finally turning to face him, "Shouldn't you be busy making excuses for your next mediocre performance on track?"
"Ah, always so angry, Piastri," he chuckled, unfazed by your hostility, "Maybe you're just frustrated because you're not getting enough attention. I could help with that."
"I don't need or want anything from you," you shot back, your voice laced with irritation.
Carlos leaned casually against a nearby wall, his smirk widening. "Come on, hermosa, you know you've got a temper. Maybe you just need to let off some steam."
Hermosa, the word he used often when he wanted to get to your skin. When you first heard it, you had no idea of what it meant. You were never good at learning Spanish growing up. But after a quick google translation search you found out that it meant beautiful. And for some reason you felt like throwing up.
"Believe me, Sainz, you're the last person I'd ever turn to," you replied icily, folding your arms across your chest, "And don't call me that."
He chuckled again, seemingly enjoying your discomfort. You wondered how Lando could be friends with him when he was nothing but an arrogant little bitch, and you cursed Alexandra for taking so long to get her stuff from hospitality.
"I hope you know that you have some serious issues, Sainz," you said, your patience wearing thin as his cocky stare weighted on you.
"Issues? Me?," Carlos raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by your anger, "I think you're the one with the problem, querida. Like I said, maybe you need to get laid. I could help you with that, your brother won't find out."
Your eyes narrowed, your blood boiled to the point where you could feel your skin burning up. If it wasn't for the all the people around, you swore you could've punched him.
You took a step closer to him, your voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "I hope your car sets itself on fire so you're not able to race tomorrow."
Carlos's smirk only widened, he was well aware that he got into your skin and he enjoyed every minute of it. Before he could respond, Alex finally appeared, her eyes flicking between the two of you with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Ready to go?" she asked, sensing the tension.
"More than ready," you replied, shooting Carlos one last glare before turning to leave with Alex.
The next day, news spread quickly through the paddock that Carlos' car had suffered a mechanical failure during the warm-up, rendering him unable to compete in the Qatar Grand Prix. Meanwhile, Oscar had won the Sprint and finished P2 in the race.
Karma got that little bitch, you thought to yourself
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
INSTAGTAM
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 181,544 others
ynpiastri season over and out. super proud of you, rookie of the year @/oscarpiastri 🥹
view all 2,884 comments
username1 i’m going to miss this season sm
username2 proud sisssss
mclaren One for the books 🧡
username3 thank you for fighting sainz online all season long bestie
landonorris Little Oscar is all grown up now
↳ ynpiastri don’t say that i’ll cry
lilyzneimer 🫶🫶🫶
username4 highlight of the season was the piastri - sainz beef
↳ username1 not for lando 😭
oscarpiastri Thank you for always supporting me (creating drama online and all) Love you so much ❤️
↳ ynpiastri that’s what big sisters are for
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The end of the 2023 season was a blur of celebrations, laughter, and champagne showers. Oscar had closed off the season as the Rookie of the Year and you couldn't be more proud of him, you were grateful you got to be by his side through it.
And of course, with the end of the season a celebration at Jimmy'z was in order, all drivers, their girlfriends and friends pulling up to Monaco for one last night of partying before the winter break.
You had stuck close to Lando and Oscar for most of the evening, since it was a special occasion, you decided not to hold back with your drinking and have as much fun as you wanted, Lando being your partner in crime as always.
So by 2 a.m, you were pretty drunk, not to the point where you couldn't stand on your own feet, but drunk enough to make a couple of bad decisions.
With that thought on your mind, you decided that it was time to find your brother or best friend and call it a night. But for some reason, both of them were nowhere to be found.
Stumbling through the crowded dance floor, you made your way toward the back of the club, hoping to spot them. The alleyway was dark and you couldn't see a single thing, but they weren't definitely back there.
"Fancy seeing you here, hermosa," a voice behind drawled, almost making you jump.
"What the actual fuck!" you said, holding a hand to your chest.
Of course it was fucking Carlos Sainz, once again
"You scared the hell out of me!" you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him, "Do you hide in dark alleyways like a creep all the time?"
"Slow down, hermosa, why are you so angry all the time?" his Spanish accent was thicker than usual, a clear sign that he was as tipsy as you were.
"I'm not in the mood for your games tonight," you retorted, trying to brush past him.
"Relax, I'm not here to cause trouble," he said, blocking your path with an easy grace. "Though you do seem to find me wherever you go."
"Only because you insist on being everywhere I am," you shot back, folding your arms over your chest.
"Or maybe you just can't resist my charm," he teased, leaning casually against the wall.
"Charm? Is that what you call it?" you scoffed, "More like arrogance and an inflated ego."
"Arrogance? No. Confidence? Absolutely," he replied with a smirk, "And I think you secretly like it."
"You're delusional," you muttered, feeling the alcohol clouding your judgment. "I can't stand you."
"Is that so?" he said, stepping closer. "Because you seem pretty invested in this conversation for someone who supposedly hates me."
True
"Maybe because you won't let me leave," you said, your voice rising in frustration.
"Or maybe because you've spent the entire season trying to get my attention by being rude to me and blasting me on social media, calling me a little bitch and all."
"I was defending Oscar," you snapped. "You kept messing with him on track. Someone had to call you out."
Carlos shook his head, his cocky smirk even bigger now. "It was never about Oscar, and you know it."
"God, I hate you," you said, ready to walk away but he blocked your way one more time.
"No, you don't," he replied, a knowing smile on his lips. "You just hate that you can't help but get all hot and bothered whenever I'm around."
"You're really are such a little bitch," you spat, but even as the words left your mouth, you felt a strange thrill.
"And you're a firecracker, Piastri. That's what makes this so fun."
"You're so full of yourself," you retorted, but the words lacked their usual bite. The alcohol was making it hard to keep up your defenses, and Carlos's close proximity was doing strange things to your resolve.
"Maybe," he conceded, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But I think you like it more than you let on."
Before you could argue back, Carlos took another step closer, his body almost pressing against yours. The tension between you crackled like electricity, and despite your best efforts, you found yourself unable to pull away.
"You're infuriating," you muttered, your heart pounding in your chest.
"And you," he said, his breath warm against your ear, "are insufferable."
Without another word, he closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a fierce, almost desperate kiss. It was a collision of anger, frustration, and undeniable chemistry, and you couldn't help but respond in kind.
Your hands found their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you kissed him back with equal fervor. His hands roamed down your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.
What the hell was happening?
For a moment, all the animosity, all the bickering, melted away. It was messy, it was intense, and it was everything you hadn't realized you wanted.
When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you could see the same mix of surprise and desire reflected in Carlos' eyes.
Before either of you could say anything, you were interrupted by Lando's voice calling out your name. You quickly stepped back, putting some distance between you and Carlos as Lando approached, a curious look on his face.
"Everything okay here?" Lando asked, glancing between the two of you.
"Just fine," you replied, giving Carlos a final, challenging look. "Just fine."
Carlos nodded, his smirk returning. "See you around, Piastri."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
texts between lando and yn
texts between carlos and lando
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
2024 SEASON
Formula 1 was back and in full swing. And with that your "nepo sister" privileges, which included traveling with Oscar for races came back too.
You were excited for this season, Oscar was no longer a rookie and he had a lot to prove, and you couldn't wait to see him rise to the challenge.
In addition to that, this season was going to be extra interesting, since the news of your least favorite driver on the grid (or at least the one you swore you hated) being replaced by Lewis Hamilton in Ferrari were announced a few weeks prior.
"Did you hear the news?" Oscar asked, making his way to you.
"What news?" you replied, setting down your coffee cup.
"Lewis Hamilton is moving to Ferrari next season," Oscar said, watching your reaction closely.
Your eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, what? So the little bitch is out?"
Oscar nodded. "Yeah, it's going to be an interesting season."
Carlos Sainz was both a source of irritation and inexplicable attraction. You had tried to push the memory of that kiss at Jimmy'z to the back of your mind all winter long, but you just couldn't stop thinking about it.
Plus, Lando was firm on his mission of making wither of you confess that apparently you "liked each other", which made ignoring the whole situation even harder.
You just hoped that he would keep it chill this season, not bothering either you or Oscar so you could just pretend he didn't exist.
With that thought on your mind, you made your way back to the hotel. You spent the day exploring around Bahrain with Oscar and Lando, and now you were ready to unwind in your room. The boys deciding to spend a few more hours walking around before heading back.
Once in the lobby, you stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for your floor. Just as the doors were about to close, a familiar hand slipped in, forcing them open.
Carlos Sainz stepped inside, his ever-present smirk firmly in place.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear, they say.
"Not going to say hello, querida?" he said after a few seconds of complete silence from you, leaning against the elevator wall.
"Carlos. Still popping up where you're least wanted, I see," you rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest.
"Missed you too, Piastri," he chuckled, pushing off the wall to stand closer you, "How was your break?"
"Great, thanks for asking," you replied coolly. "Did you enjoy yours, planning how to be a pain to other drivers this season too?"
"Is that really how you want to start our first conversation of the season?" Carlos raised an eyebrow, "I though we've left that in the past, specially after what happened at the end of last year."
You tensed at his statement. More than once during the break, you wondered if he remembered what happened that night. He was as drunk was you were, if not more, so you convinced yourself that he had forgotten about it.
"I don't remember much from that night. Must have been the champagne."
Carlos leaned in slightly, his voice low and teasing. "Oh, I think you remember perfectly well. Especially the kiss."
Your heart skipped a beat, but you kept your expression neutral. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Playing dumb doesn't suit you," he said with a chuckle. "But fine, we'll pretend it never happened. For now."
"Good," you replied sharply. "Because I have no intention of discussing it."
"Maybe you're playing dumb because you want me to kiss you again," Carlos teased, making you throw your head back in frustration.
"I'd rather choke on my own spit, little bitch,"
"Ahh, missed hearing that," Carlos said, his tone cocky and satisfied with your frustration. You mentally cursed the elevator for taking so long to get to your fucking floor.
"You know what? I hope you don't find a seat for next season at all. You act like a total peacock when everyone knows you're basically unemployed right now," you spitted out before you could even think twice.
Carlos raised an eyebrow, his expression momentarily serious. "Low blow, Piastri. Even for you."
You held his gaze defiantly, refusing to back down. "Just stating the obvious."
The elevator finally dinged, announcing your floor, and you stepped out swiftly, eager to end the conversation before it could escalate further.
Carlos Sainz had a way of getting under your skin like no one else, and the season had only just begun.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
INSTAGRAM
liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 186,379 others
ynpiastri and we’re back 🏁 i promise to make this season drama free
tagged: landonorris, lilyzneimer, oscarpiastri
view all 3,177 comments
username1 ICON IS BACKKKK
username2 nooo we need you to keep dragging sainz
mclaren Our favorite nepo sister 🧡
↳ ynpiastri that’s meeee
username3 yn always gives us lily x oscar content bless her
charles_leclerc What if I need you to fight someone from the grid for me?
↳ ynpiastri you know there’s one person i would gladly drag through the mood
↳ username1 HER HATRED FOR CARLOS LIVES
lilyzneimer love youuu✨
oscarpiastri Cute picture of me and Lily, thank u sis
↳ ynpiastri i’m just here for my babies 🫡
landonorris I know your reasons
↳ ynpiastri you’re so strange sometimes
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
It was a sunny day in Melbourne, and the paddock was buzzing with excitement. The Australian Grand Prix was always a favorite, and this year was no exception.
You felt good to be back home, you always felt proud when you saw Oscar on the track, but seeing him racing in your home country was something even more special.
Carlos was also back from his emergency surgery and ready to race again. And even though you would never admit it out loud, you were relieved to see him back and healthy. The news of his appendicitis had shocked you more than you’d expected, and you’d found yourself genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.
I'm just being a decent human being, you tried to convince yourself, It would be really scary if that happened to Oscar or Lando.
Walking through the paddock, you looked for a familiar face to hang out with before it was time for the track action to start, spotting Lando's back talking to someone you couldn't quite identify, you decided to approach him.
As you got closer, Lando shifted slightly, revealing the person he was talking to, Carlos.
He looked well, a healthy glow back in his cheeks, his smile easy and relaxed. He was wearing his team gear, the Ferrari red suiting him perfectly. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and despite the casual setting, he looked effortlessly handsome for someone who had a major surgery just two weeks ago.
Your stomach did a little flip. You hated to admit it, but lately your hatred towards Carlos had cooled down. Maybe it was the memory of that kiss, seeing him vulnerable after his surgery or the fact that he had been decent to Oscar so far. You couldn't deny that there was something about him that made you feel… softer.
However, you decided to ignore those thoughts and feelings every time they got to your head, because at the end of the day, there was no way he could ever feel or think the same way. It was better to keep hating each other.
Lando noticed you approaching and gave you a teasing grin. "Hey, YN! Look who’s back from the dead!"
Carlos turned to face you, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "Hey, Piastri," he greeted with a warm smile. "Back to your home turf, huh?"
"Yeah," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual despite the flutter in your chest. "It feels good to be back."
Lando gave Carlos a pat on the shoulder. "I'll catch up with you later, mate," he said, winking at you before walking away, leaving the two of you alone.
You stood there for a moment, awkward silence filling the air. Maybe he was still tired from what he had been through, but he didn't show any signs of cockiness or wanting to annoy you this time.
"You look well," you finally said, your voice softer than usual. "I'm glad you're back."
Carlos chuckled, his eyes twinkling. "I heard you were worried about me."
"Don't let it go to your head," you replied quickly, though the usual bite in your tone was missing. You felt a bit embarrassed that he knew, "I’m just being a decent human being."
"Of course," Carlos said, his voice nonchalant, "Decent human being, sure."
"I’m serious," you insisted, though your voice lacked the usual edge. "But I am glad you’re okay. It must have been scary."
Carlos’s expression softened. "It was. But I had good doctors, and I’m ready to race again. Thanks for worrying."
There was silence again, and you noticed that this was the first time you and Carlos had an interaction that didn't include biting each other's heads off.
It felt nice.
"Well," you said after a minute of silence, "don’t expect me to go easy on you just because you had surgery. You're still on my watch."
"Wouldn’t have it any other way," Carlos smirked, "But for the record, it’s nice to see you care, even if you won’t admit it."
"Don't push your luck, Sainz," you warned, but there was a hint of playfulness in your voice.
"I wouldn't dare, Piastri."
"I should get going," you said, pointing towards the McLaren hospitality, "Good luck out there."
As you turned to walk away, Carlos's voice stopped you in your tracks.
You glanced back at him, eyebrows raised in question.
"You know, this is the first time you don't call me a little bitch," Carlos said, a small playing on his face.
"What, you miss it already? Does it turn you own?"
"Maybe a little," Carlos chuckled, "Keeps things interesting."
You shook your head, trying to hide the smile that threatened to spread across your face.
"Well, good luck out there, little bitch."
You didn't wait to see his reaction, but you knew he was grinning from ear to ear.
Later that day, Carlos crossed the finish line first and won the Australian Grand Prix, sending the crowd into a frenzy. You watched as Carlos celebrated on the podium, spraying champagne with Lando and Charles and holding up the winner's trophy with pride.
You swore you played it cool, but everyone around you noticed the huge smile on your face.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
INSTAGRAM
liked by oscarpiastri, lilyhme and 197,637 others
ynpiastri you’ll always find your way back hoooome 🎶
tagged: landonorris, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri
view all 3,268 comments
username1 AUSSIE QUEEN
username2 omfg included a picture of sainz win??
↳ username1 how pissed do you think she was bc he won in australia
↳ username3 i love that she didn’t tag him tho 😭
alexandrasaintmleux Mama piastri >> 🫶
↳ ynpiastri our real queen
lilyzneimer the third pic is my faveeee
username4 surprised that she didn’t blur carlos in the podium pic
landonorris Please don’t make me do a shoey ever again
↳ username2 OMFG I NEED TO SEE THAT
↳ oscarpiastri Aussie traditions mate
↳ ynpiastri cry baby
carlossainz55 started following you
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
ynpiastri has added to their stories
carlossainz55 replied to your story
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
"You're not my best friend," Lando said, sitting on the plush couch of your hotel room, watching as you put a sweatshirt on, "You've been replaced with an alien or an evil twin, there's no way you're YN Piastri."
"Can you quit being dramatic," you rolled your eyes at him, "It's no big deal."
"You're grabbing sushi with Carlos Sainz," he stressed, moving his hands to emphasize, "You hate Carlos Sainz, it's been an issue for me for the last year because both of you force me to pick sides and I have to make sure you don't kill each other. And now you're suddenly going on dates."
"This is not a date," you protested, "Don't even say that out loud, it's gross."
"Then what is it? Because he asked you out and you said yes, that's literally a date."
You didn't give him a reply right away, hiding behind your your busy hands as you pretended to adjust your sweatshirt.
Truth was, you didn’t have an answer, at least not one that made sense. You couldn't blame Lando for thinking you've been replaced with someone else, because you'd never accept anything from Carlos last year, let alone willingly grab dinner with him.
But here you were, about to head out to meet him.
"I just want free dinner," you shrugged, "And he offered to buy it, so I'm taking advantage of it."
"Sure, free dinner," Lando gave you a skeptical look, crossing his arms, "Because you’ve never had other options for free dinner before, right? Your brother is rich, he could buy you whatever you want."
You huffed, trying to sound annoyed but feeling a bit defensive. "It's just sushi, Lando. Stop making it a big deal."
"You know, it's okay if you like him," he said, his tone genuine. "I mean, I get why you're hesitant, but it's fine to have feelings for someone, even if it's Carlos Sainz."
"Are you out of your mind?" you immediately said, your voice sharper than intended, "We're talking about the little bitch, what on earth makes you think that I could have feelings for him other than disgust and irritation."
"I don't know, maybe the fact that you're getting ready to get dinner with him, or that you were on the edge of your seat worrying the entire time he was recovering from the surgery, or the time I almost caught you kiss-"
"God, just shut up," you interrupted him, "Oscar would understand. He knows I'm never going to get all lovey-dovey over Carlos."
"Oscar might buy whatever you tell him," Lando raised an eyebrow, "But that doesn't mean you're being honest with yourself. It's not the end of the world to admit you might have a crush."
"I do not have a crush on him," you insisted, your cheeks heating up. "It's just... complicated."
"Complicated how?" Lando pressed, leaning forward. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks pretty straightforward. You’re intrigued by him, he’s intrigued by you, and you both can’t seem to stay away from each other."
You let his words sink in, Lando might be a year younger than you, and often perceived as a carefree guy who didn't have a serious bone in his body. But in reality, he was a very wise person who understood the complexities of situations better than most.
That was one of the reasons why he was your best friend.
"Look, it’s not that simple," you sighed, rubbing your temples, "We have history, and not the good kind. I don't trust him, and I don’t think he trusts me either. We're just… trying to be civil for once."
"That's good," Lando stood up from the couch, sitting beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, "Honestly I was tired of dealing with your constant bickering, if you didn't kiss and make up on your own, I was going to lock you up in a closet until you resolved it."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
INSTAGRAM
liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 201,633 others
ynpiastri just decent human being things
view all 3,988 comments
username1 BESTIEEEE
username2 THIS LOOKS LIKE A DATE
alexandrasaintmleux I just texted you !!!
↳ username1 LET ME INNNN
f1gossip 👀
username3 CARLOS SAINZ ???
↳ username1 girl no way they hate each other
↳ username2 he’s in the likes tho 😭
landonorris IM FREEEEE WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY LIFEEEE
↳ username1 wtfffff
oscarpiastri Answer my texts right now please
↳ username1 IM SCREAMING
↳ username2 OSCAR 😩
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
After a nice dinner and a couple of drinks, you and Carlos walked back to the hotel. The sushi had been surprisingly good, and the conversation… surprisingly pleasant.
The bickering between you was still present, but this time it wasn't harsh or spiteful, it was playful and and light-hearted. The tension that usually accompanied your interactions had lessened, and you actually acted friendly towards each other.
"I still can't believe you made me try that weird seaweed thing," you said, bumping your shoulder against his as you walked.
"You loved it, admit it," Carlos chuckled.
"Maybe a little," you conceded with a small smile, "How did you know this place anyways?"
"I like reading restaurant reviews online," he shrugged, "It's a random hobby of mine, and I'm going to need those in case I don't have a job next year."
You paused, his words sinking in. Carlos joked about it, but you knew the uncertainty of his future in Formula 1 must be horrible. The sport is cutthroat, and the thought of not finding a seat to race must be weighing on him heavily. It made you think about Oscar, and how that could happen to him too.
"I'm sorry for saying that I hope you don't find a seat next season," you blurted out, feeling a pang of guilt. "You're right, that was low, even for me."
"Are you really apologizing, Piastri?" he teased, "First you cared about my health, now you apologize. What's next? You'll stop calling me a little bitch?"
You rolled your eyes, but there was no malice behind it. "Don't push your luck, Sainz. Just take the apology and run with it."
"Alright, I'll take it," Carlos laughed, a genuine sound that made your heart skip a beat, "You must be praying I stay just so you have an excuse to argue with me, aren't you?"
"Don't flatter yourself," you shot back, grinning. "I can argue with anyone."
"But you like arguing with me the most," he said, his voice softening.
You didn't reply, the truth in his words making your heart race. From the corner of your eye, you saw the satisfied grin on his face.
Soon enough you reached the hotel lobby, and once you walked through the doors you spotted Charles and Alexandra by the reception desk.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Charles called out, drawing the attention of Alex, who looked at you with raised eyebrows.
"Just coming back from dinner," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual. "What are you two up to?"
"We were just about to head up," Alexandra said, linking her arm with Charles's. "How was dinner?"
"Surprisingly good," Carlos said, glancing at you with a smirk.
Charles raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "This is new. You two actually getting along?"
"Don't get used to it," you said, rolling your eyes. "I just wanted free dinner."
"Right," Charles said, not convinced. "Well, we're heading up, you coming?"
You all piled into the elevator, the small space filled with a mix of comfortable silence and light conversation. When the elevator reached your floor, you stepped out, Carlos following close behind.
"Goodnight, guys," Alex called out as the elevator doors closed, giving you a look that screamed 'TEXT ME ASAP'
Carlos walked you to your room, the hallway dimly lit and quiet. As you walked side by side, the occasional brush of his arm against yours sent small shivers down your spine.
"So, the only reason you agreed to come with me tonight was because you wanted free dinner?" Carlos asked once you reached your room.
"Exactly, what else do you think would make me want to spend an evening with you?"
Carlos chuckled, leaning against the wall beside your door. "I don't know, maybe my charming personality and good looks?"
"Charming?" you raised your eyebrows at him, "You're literally the most annoying person I know."
"Likewise, Piastri," Carlos shot back, his smirk widening, "But here we are, aren't we?"
"You really think you're that special, don't you?" you said, rolling your eyes.
"I know I am, querida," Carlos replied, stepping closer. "And you can't get enough of me."
You looked away from him, his stare suddenly becoming overwhelming. He was really close, as close as he was the night you kissed at Jimmy'z, and even thinking about it has your neck crawling away in sweat.
"See? You can't even deny it." Carlos grinned, his eyes locking onto yours again, his voice dropping an octave as he took another step closer.
"Don't get any ideas," you warned, but your heart was racing, and you were sure he could hear it.
"I can't help it," he said softly, his face now inches from yours. "You bring out the best in me, Piastri."
"I still hate you," you whispered, your breath hitching as he leaned in even closer.
"No, you don't," Carlos whispered back, his lips brushing against yours.
Before you could protest, he closed the distance and kissed you. It was gentle at first, tentative, as if he was giving you a chance to pull away. But when you didn't, the kiss deepened, becoming more intense and filled with a raw passion that took your breath away.
Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping tightly as you kissed him back, losing yourself in the moment. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you even closer.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, a small smile playing on Carlos's lips.
"Goodnight, Piastri," he whispered, his voice husky.
Unable to move from your spot, you watched him walk through the corridor and disappear into the elevator doors, your mind still blurry about what happened just seconds ago.
You were fucked.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
TWITTER
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
A playlist full of pop classics played as you got ready for Lando's millionth win celebration.
He took the win at the Miami Grand Prix and the next following days were full of partying and champagne. You were beyond happy for him, and willing to put up with his multiple celebrations of his well deserved win.
This time, the setting was not that over the top, just a casual dinner at his place in Monaco with his close friends.
"Can I come in?" you heard after a knock on Oscar's guest bedroom, the place where you stayed when visiting Monaco.
"Sure," you replied, quickly meeting with your brother's figure.
Oscar entered the room, a casual grin on his face. He glanced around before his eyes settled on you. "Are you almost ready?"
"Yeah," you replied, adjusting an earring. "I hope this is Lando's last celebration, I can't keep up anymore.
"He's definitely on a roll," Oscar chuckled, "You know, Carlos is going to be there."
"I know," you said, looking away from him for a moment and trying to keep your tone nonchalant.
"You do?" Oscar raised a eyebrow.
"He's Lando's best friend, Osc, it's obvious he'll be there."
Oscar nodded slowly, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Right, of course. But you two have been getting close lately, haven't you? You didn't even come for his neck after Miami, and you always do that."
You sighed, knowing where this conversation was heading. There was no denying that there was something between you and Carlos, your friends might not know about the times you've kissed, but they definitely noticed the shift in your behavior towards each other.
You found yourself enjoying his company, looking forward to catch a glimpse of him every weekend and craving his touch. You don't know if he feels the same way, but the way he looks at you and finds ways to get you alone tells you he does.
Admitting this to Oscar felt like crossing a line, even though he had always encouraged you to be open about your feelings.
"We're just… getting along better. That's all," you muttered, "And you asked me to behave on social media this season, I'm trying to do that."
"That's bullshit, YN," Oscar shook his head, a teasing smile forming on his lips, "Come on, admit it. Maybe the real reason you didn't attack him this time is because you like him."
"Oscar, we're not having this conversation," you quickly became defensive, "I don't know why everyone insist on something that's far from the truth. I don't like Sainz."
"Sis, it's okay if you like him," Oscar said, his tone gentle but insistent. "You don't have to hide it from me."
You looked away, feeling conflicted. Ever since you first met Carlos, there was something about him that intrigued you, however, you were too caught up in convincing yourself that he would never see you as more than his brand new rival's sister. Things getting worse when his incidents with Oscar on track started and you took that as an opportunity to be reckless to him.
It was a self defense mechanism for your own feelings.
"It's complicated, okay?" you said, feeling vulnerable but knowing you could trust him, "We spent last year coming from each other's necks all the time, but now he's nice to me and I am too, we spend time together, we kiss. But at the same time, I feel like I can't trust him, that he's going to switch to little bitch mode again and I'll end up feeling stupid for potentially catching feelings."
"Holy shit you've kissed!" Oscar said, his eyes widening, "Lando was right all along."
"Oh god, I shouldn't have said anything," you threw your head back in frustration.
"Sorry, sorry," he put his hands up in defense, "But It's okay to feel confused. You can talk to me, you know. I'm your brother, and I just want you to be happy. I can tell that this is really bothering you."
You sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "I just don't know what to do, Osc. One minute I think I might actually like him, and the next I'm terrified of getting hurt."
"Look, I know Carlos can be intense on track, but off track? He's a good guy," Oscar sat beside you, putting an arm around your shoulders, "When he's not trying to push me off the track, he's really supportive and a nice guy. There's a reason why Lando adores him. Plus, maybe he's figuring things out too."
You leaned into Oscar's side, grateful for his comforting presence. "Do you really think so?"
"Yeah, I do," Oscar nodded reassuringly. "And you deserve to give yourself a chance at happiness. If Carlos could make you happy, then why not see where it goes?"
"When did you become so wise?" you teased, giving him a small smile, "You're supposed to be my annoying little brother who picks his nose and runs around the house."
"Hey, I can be wise when I want to be," Oscar chuckled, giving you a playful shove, "But don't worry, I'll always be your annoying little brother, nose-picking and all."
You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from your shoulders. "Thanks, Osc. I needed this."
"Anytime, sis," Oscar said warmly, giving you a quick hug. "Now, come on. Lando is probably drunk already and we haven't made it to his house yet."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
INSTAGRAM
liked by carlossainz55, alexandrasaintmleux and 215,726 others
ynpiastri the rumors are true: lando norris keeps celebrating his miami win even tho it’s been a week
view all 3,967 comments
username1 so iconic tbh
username2 EXCUSE ME MISS IS THAT CARLOS SAINZ IN THE LAST PIC ??
↳ username1 i thought they hated each other 😭
danielricciardo 🙌
alexandrasaintmleux 👀 I see you
↳ ynpiastri and i don’t see you over her which means your boyfriend sucks for not bringing you
↳ charles_leclerc …..
landonorris IM V DRVNK OMG
↳ username3 i love him 😭😭😭😩
username4 carlos sainz and yn piastri the ultimate enemies to lovers lowkey
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You're not sure how it happened, but Carlos' arm laid casually in the back of your chair as you chatted with those around you. His fingers gently brushed your bare shoulder from time to time, his thigh pressed to yours under the table.
Maybe it was the couple glasses of champagne you both had, you're not sure. But you definitely didn't want to move from your spot.
No one dared to say anything about it, but your friends had teasing grins at the sight. You knew you'll have to deal with them later, but you decided to ignore it for the night.
"Alright, I think I'm calling it a night," Oscar said as he got up from his chair, Lando immediately booed, "Are you coming, YN?"
You looked at him with raised eyebrows, you definitely didn't want to leave yet, feeling too comfortable in Carlos' presence. In addition to that, you haven't had a chance to get him alone, and that was enough to not want the night to end.
After a minute of silence from you, Carlos spoke up, "I can give her a ride home if she doesn't want to leave yet," he offered, his voice smooth and nonchalant.
"Oh, a private chauffeur service now, Carlos? How fancy," Max teased from across the table, making the entire group laugh.
Oscar hesitated, glancing between you and Carlos, his protective instincts kicking in. "Are you okay with that, YN?"
"Yeah, I'm okay with it," you met Oscar's eyes and nodded, "Or I can just crash here, Lando is too drunk to notice anyway, don't want to cause much trouble."
"It's really no trouble," he insisted, his hand still resting gently on your shoulder. "I'll make sure you get home safely."
Oscar seemed to relax a bit, though you could tell he was still a little uneasy. "Alright then. Just... be careful, okay?"
"Don't worry, Osc," you replied, standing up and giving him a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow."
As Oscar left, the group continued to tease and laugh. You always enjoyed when the drivers were in a casual setting like this one, where they could forget about competition and teams and just hang out and have fun.
You stayed glued to Carlos the entire time, getting even closer as the night went on, you could feel your eyelids getting heavy, so you laid your head on his shoulder.
"You're falling asleep on me, hermosa," Carlos whispered to you, not moving your head from its place.
"I'm not," you protested, but at the same time you did a yawn escaped your mouth, which made Carlos laugh.
"Come on let's get you home," Carlos offered you his hand.
You took Carlos' hand, not even thinking twice about it. As you both stood to leave, your friends couldn't resist one last round of teasing.
"No funny business, Carlos," Charles called out, grinning widely. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at him. "We have Oscar on speed dial."
"Yeah, don't make me come after you, that's also my sister," Lando added, too drunk to even make sense.
You laughed, waving goodbye to everyone as you and Carlos made your way out. The cool night air was refreshing as you walked to his car, your hand still in his.
The drive to Oscar's place was quiet but comfortable. Carlos kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console close to you. You found yourself stealing glances at him, admiring the way the streetlights played over his features.
At one point, Carlos glanced over and caught you staring. "You're staring," he said, a smirk playing on his lips.
You felt your cheeks heat up but didn't look away. "Maybe I am," you replied, a teasing edge in your voice. "You have a problem with that?"
"Not at all, Piastri. Not at all."
When you arrived at Oscar's place, Carlos parked the car but you made no move to get out. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension.
"Are you ready to stop pretending we hate each other?" Carlos asked suddenly, his voice low and earnest. "Because I am."
His words hung in the air, causing your heart to skip a beat. The intensity in his gaze made it clear he wasn't playing around or teasing you. He was being real and serious.
You took a deep breath, your eyes locking onto his. "Yeah, I am."
Your heart pounded in your chest as you closed the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a kiss. His hand cupped your cheek, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours with a mix of tenderness and hunger. The world outside the car ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the way his kiss made you feel.
Carlos' other hand found its way to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss as he pressed you closer. Your hands tangled in his hair, holding on as if letting go meant losing this moment forever.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. Carlos' eyes searched yours, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.
"But… I'm not ready to stop calling you a little bitch, though."
5K notes
·
View notes