#I'm sorry I had to say it please don't come for me I... well I don't really have a family to look after and I live alone but still

[fanged-fanfics]

☆ No Longer Strangers — Awakened Pure Vanilla x GN Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/comfort || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: This is a part two to this fic as an apology for the angst, hehehe

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

It had been troubling, being apart without Pure Vanilla. It felt like a very piece of your souljam had been torn out, leaving you a devestated mess in the meantime. While this "Recluse" took off, you tried to pick up the pieces he had left. Yet, to your surprise, you were now face to face with the same Cookie who had said those terrible things to you. His clothes had a white tinge rather than black, the blues completely gone. The eye of his staff now sported a brilliantly shining star, matching the mark on his forehead. His expression was deeply troubled as he spoke with you. "My dear, I-... I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am" he began softly, voice thick with guilt.

You shook off your surprise at his new form, fixing him with a glare. "You should be. Do you have any idea what it was like, having you talk to me like I was nothing? Hearing you treat me like a problem?". Pure Vanilla winced, his hands nervously rubbing the handle of his staff. "I.. wasn't myself. I was under Shadow Milk's control, and... I thought you'd be safer without me. In some way, I... thought I was helping". "Well you weren't" you replied firmly. Pure Vanilla frowned more, slowly stepping closer to you. He extended a nervous hand, and you noticed how it shook. Your expression softened, and with only a moment's hesitation, you allowed him to take your hand into his.

You watched with a suspicious gaze as Pure Vanilla guided your hand to his lips, gently pecking the back of it "Oh, my dove... you didn't deserve such cruelty. Never in all my years have I ever dreamt of hurting you, even in my nightmares". As he spoke, you heard his tone waver. Something in your chest lurched painfully, but you tried to stuff it down. "But you did," you told him, voice now soft as the old aches returned "I know it wasn't in your control, but I can't forget it". "I understand" Pure Vanilla said.

He then kneeled down, bowing a little. He pressed your hand to his forehead. "Please, let me make it up to you. I'll spend the rest of my life letting you know that I adore you every day, each more than the last" he said, tone having warbled into near-begging. "Pure Vanilla..." You said, and he cut you off by opening up his eyes. You could see the darkness that once suffocated them was now gone, the soft blue and yellow you'd come to love being visible once again. He gently moved your hand to his cheek, and kissed your palm. "I'm sorry, my dove. And I can't say it enough. I can't spend another moment thinking of how you looked that last time we met"

The memory fluttered across your mind, the way it stung seeing your beloved look at you with such disdain. All traces of coldness was gone, now the healer was leaning into your hand like it was the last time he'd ever feel your touch. You felt some dampness from his eye reach your hand, and that alone broke you. You inched closer, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace. "I- I thought you'd-" you began, voice breaking up with emotion. Pure Vanilla wrapped you in his arms, a sensation you previously feared never feeling again. "Shh, shh, it's alright. I'm back now, you see? It's just me" he murmured.

You couldn't help but melt into his hold, pouring all the agony you'd felt into tears while dissolving in his arms. He sniffled, a small whimper leaving him as he cried along with you. It took several moments, but when you pulled back, Pure Vanilla began kissing the tears off of your dough, wiping your eyes clean with his hands. "I love you, my dove" he said quietly "More than anything. You don't have to forgive me just yet, but I'll try every day to prove it to you". You chuckled a little. It was so uniquely him, and for the first time in a long while, you felt he was himself again. His voice, the one you remembered, the one that comforted you countless times, was back.

You gave a quick peck to the corner of his mouth. Almost as soon as it happened, Pure Vanilla gently cupped your face, bringing you back in for a proper kiss. It was chaste, but you felt relief fill your form at feeling his kiss again. You held it with him until it slowly broke, Pure Vanilla simply breathing in the moment. He pressed his forehead to yours. "Anything you want, my love, and I'll grant it to you" he said. You smiled, hugging him once more "I'll tell you when I think of it. Can we just stay here for now?". "Of course," Pure Vanilla said, shifting to be fully sitting and putting you right in his lap. He gently pet your hair while keeping a tight hold around your waist. You leaned into him, feeling whole once again.

[bambi-lamb]

over the phone

Summary: Ever since Wanda left for a routine work trip, things have felt off—even compared to previous trips. Things come to a head one day and you can't help but ring her up. Just to talk... well, at first anyway.

Tags: wanda maximoff x f!reader, 18+, smut, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, phone sex, dacryphilia, mommy kink, nipple play (is that a tag idk), implied sadomasochism (just a lil bit), remote vibrator, fingering

WC: 3,165

A/N: i know the tags are a little crazier than usual... and the length is double what i normally have. i don't know what happened— hopefully someone is into this though

"Detka? Are you there?"

The phone speaker crackles in the following silence, breaking you out of your stupor.

"Sorry, Wanda. I'm here."

She hums softly on the other side of the line, sounding amused.

"So, why did you call me, sweetheart?"

The honey-sweet words trickle into your ears and you sigh, leaning back against the headboard and fidgeting restlessly with the edge of the duvet.

"Just missed you. Wanted to hear your voice," you respond quietly, hoping that the phone catches it.

Evidently, you're not entirely successful.

"Hmm? Say that again, baby?"

You slump down against the pillow, sliding underneath the covers and turning to the side. The phone finds its way between your hands, still on speaker, and you cradle it closer to your face, staring unblinking at the caller ID screen as you repeat yourself.

Wanda chuckles softly, and the phone slides out of your loose grasp. You melt into the mattress before reaching out to readjust the phone until it's in place again.

"I missed you too, detka. What have you been up to today?"

You hum softly, squeezing a second pillow between your arms as you think over your response.

"Not much. I went out and bought groceries. Nothing special. Everything feels so stale without you here," you lament.

A soft huff of breath crackles through the speakers.

"I'll be back soon, detka. I'm only here for one more day, I promise."

You sigh and turn onto your back again, hugging the pillow tighter.

"I just miss you so much."

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

The soft warmth spreading in your chest is all-too-eager to branch as far as it can go, and a low ache settles at the bottom of your stomach. Wanda's voice has always been a weak spot for you, and even through crackling phone speakers that hasn't changed.

"Miss you in all the ways," you murmur, suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of your need.

Wanda coos softly, but doesn't say anything further. As her raspy voice echoes through the speaker, tears spring to your eyes. It hurts to miss someone this much. You've never had much issue with Wanda leaving before. It's not like you don't understand that she's busy.

But for some reason, this time has felt different from all the others. Your everyday life feels emptier, hollow, surreal. Without Wanda to anchor you down, you feel like you're a phantom, coasting on muscle memory to get through the day until you can get in bed and dream of green eyes.

"Wish you could just come home already," you whine, trying to tamp down your rising emotions.

"Detka," Wanda murmurs. "It's okay. I'm here. Stay with me, okay? Mommy's here."

You battle with your conflicting desires, desperation and desire coursing through your veins in equal measure. You flip back onto your side again, clutching the phone like a lifeline, thumbs pressed into the screen as if that will somehow bring you closer to Wanda.

"Mommy," you whisper back, taking solace in the title as your breathing evens out again.

"Yes, sweetheart. I'm here," Wanda reassures.

Lust roars to life suddenly and you squeeze your thighs together, mind blank as Wanda's soft voice washes over you.

"Mommy," you whisper again, heavier this time, weighted down by desire.

"My baby," she murmurs in response, low and firm.

"Need you. Please." You've been reduced to short phrases already, finally letting your mind take a backseat and just letting yourself feel.

"What do you need from mommy, detka?"

"Want mommy, please. Want to hear— want…" you can't find the right words, overwhelmed by just how much you need Wanda in this moment. You just need her, need to anchor yourself.

Luckily, Wanda understands what you're asking for all too well.

"You want mommy to tell you what to do? Is that it, detka?"

You nod limply, before realizing Wanda can't see you.

"Mhmm," you hum into the screen instead, fingers still digging into the phone case as you pull it even closer.

"How badly do you need it, sweetheart?"

Wanda's voice is teasing, and you can hear shuffling on the other side of the line then the click of a door locking.

"Need you so bad, please mommy." The words tumble out in a rushed mess, but at this point you can hardly bear to think of this phone call ending in anything other than an orgasm.

Wanda chuckles again.

"You're so lovely for me, detka. So needy. So sweet. You know what mommy would do to you if she could be there with you?"

You shiver, pillow long-forgotten as you clutch the phone between your fingers.

"I would take it so slow, sweetheart. Draw it out a little bit, just tug down the top of your shirt and play with your pretty little nipples until you're squirming and crying."

Wanda sounds delighted; you can hear the smile in her voice as she describes how she would touch you.

"Just softly at first, only the best for my baby. I'd use my mouth and tongue, and then when you're squirming for more, mommy would use her fingers to pinch and squeeze and roll. The way you like it, baby," she hums, and you shiver again.

"Can you do that for mommy, sweetheart? Can you pinch your pretty nipples for her?"

You whine high in your throat, listening to the way Wanda laughs softly through the phone.

"Mommy," you whimper, tugging your tank top down and setting down the phone next to your head. You know exactly what Wanda means, and you pinch and squeeze, rolling your own nipples roughly between the pads of your fingers, the way you know Wanda always does, the way you like it.

"Oh god, mommy—" the moan gets caught in the back of your throat, coming out choked as bolts of white-hot electricity course up your spine.

"You're doing so good for me, detka," she coos, and you sob desperately, already overwhelmed.

"Just keep it up for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you cry."

You acquiesce obediently, squeezing your nipples until they're swelling, reddened by the abuse, until you can feel tears welling up and spilling over. Wanda keeps whispering soft encouragements through the speaker even as you pant and moan, broken only by soft sobbing and crying.

It never surprised you, but you're sure anyone else in the neighborhood who knows Wanda would be startled to discover her sadistic streak. She's always liked seeing you cry, and it only helps that you like it when she makes you hurt—when she tears you apart and builds you back up again.

"Mommy," you whimper again, a broken noise that makes Wanda moan softly on the other end of the line.

"Oh, detka, you sound so pretty," she coos, enjoyment sparkling in her voice.

"Please," you beg, shivering and shaking with every new jolt of sensation.

"Mmh, good girl," she murmurs. "You can stop now, just for a little bit."

You moan with relief as you're finally given permission to pull your hands away from your chest.

"And then mommy would touch you lower, wouldn't she? You know how mommy likes you, baby. Legs tucked up against your chest so you're nice and open for mommy. Go ahead, sweetheart, why don't you start now, hm?"

You pant softly as your pull your own legs up and apart, kicking off the duvet and whimpering when cold air meets your sticky cunt.

"Mommy would start slow, just keep you spread open with her fingers, and just watch. Wait until you're squirming and wiggling before she touches you. Just keep yourself open, baby, you can listen to how mommy wants to touch you first. No touching yet."

You hum and abide by her rules, reaching down only to spread yourself even further apart, shivering as you imagine Wanda's lazer-sharp gaze on your spread cunt.

"And then mommy would touch you so softly, just gently rub with her fingers where you're nice and open for mommy. Never inside, just right outside, where your pretty cunt opens up for mommy."

You shiver as you imagine the sensation, all-too-familiar with how it feels.

"Do you think you could ever come like that, baby? With mommy's mouth on your nipples and her fingers rubbing your cunt just like that?"

Wanda moans softly at her own words, and you whimper loudly into the speaker. It sounds torturous and delicious all in the same.

"Hmm, maybe once mommy gets home," she murmurs. "How's my detka feeling now, hm? Are you being a good girl? You're not touching yourself, are you?"

Her words are edged with danger.

"No, mommy. I'm being good. Not touching myself. Keeping myself spread open with my fingers, just like mommy would," you profess earnestly.

Wanda hums thoughtfully.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you baby?"

"Promise I'm being honest, mommy."

Wanda coos softly, reassured.

"Good girl, detka."

You moan softly in the back of your throat. Without realizing it, you've started rocking your hips against the empty air, searching for more stimulation.

"Now where were we? Ah, right, mommy would rub your pretty cunt until you're crying again, and then keep rubbing. Just until she's satisfied. You'd have to be a good girl and beg for more. Beg for mommy's fingers."

"Please," you moan. "Please, mommy, please." Mindless even though you haven't even begun to touch yourself.

"You can touch yourself now, baby," she coos gently. "Just like mommy said, okay? Don't go inside just yet. Just outside. Nice and soft."

You agree quietly, letting go of where you're stretching yourself open to reach down further. You take your index and middle fingers and begin to rub in careful circles, moaning at the touch.

You've heard about this before, know just how many nerve endings exist in just this region, and it feels like you're on fire. Desperation seizes you. You want more. You want so badly to feel full, to come already, but Wanda hasn't given you permission to do anything beyond this, and you're nothing if not a good girl for her.

"Good girl," Wanda hums, and then continues to describe more, dropping her voice torturously low as she paints new visuals through the speaker.

"And then mommy would press inside, so so slow, bit by bit until you're all filled up. But as soon as mommy's inside, she'd pull right back out, all the way. Rub your pretty little clit with those same fingers until you're crying again, so close, and then stop. Once you're calmed down, mommy would do it again, and again, and again. Over and over."

"Mommy," you sob desperately. "Mommy, please."

Wanda hums softly, but doesn't acknowledge your pleas.

"You don't have to do it so many times tonight, baby. Just a couple. Just so mommy can hear you cry again. And then mommy wants you to go get your vibrator. Mommy will make you come like that, okay?"

You shiver and gasp as you continue to work yourself up.

"Yes, mommy. Please, mommy."

Wanda seems to be feeling merciful tonight, because she doesn't wait very long.

"You can go in now, detka. Just like mommy said, okay? Nice and slow."

You nod eagerly, forgetting Wanda can't see you, and begin to nudge your fingers inside, torturously slow, exactly the way Wanda has so many dozens of times in the past.

The stretch burns, just a little bit, even with how slick you are, and you moan into the speaker. It takes nearly a full minute just to seat your fingers in completely, and you sigh as you clench down, finally feeling full.

"Pull out, baby," Wanda orders firmly.

You whine, crying out in disappointment, but you don't disobey.

"Mommy," you beg, even as you pull back out completely, leaving your cunt empty and needy again.

"No, baby. Not yet. Be good for mommy. Now you have to rub your pretty little clit. Soft. Gentle. Mommy wants you to edge yourself three times, okay? She can count for you, baby." Wanda's breathing sounds labored on the other side of the line, and you briefly have time to think about whether or not she's touching herself, too.

Then your fingers are on your clit and your thoughts wash away again.

You rub just as she instructed. Slowly, gently, cautiously. Just enough to slowly build you up to an orgasm. Never enough to tip you over. Desire throbs low and slow in your stomach, but Wanda's low voice keeps your orgasm at bay. Slower. Lighter. Hold it.

Soon enough, her voice is all you can think about. It replaces the voice in your own head, guiding every movement of every part of your body. No coming. Never coming. Just rubbing, slowly.

When you whimper a little too loud into the speaker, Wanda makes you stop. Pulling your hand away feels like hell, but you do it anyway. When your breathing settles to an acceptable degree—Wanda makes you hold the phone up to your mouth until you stop panting—she has you start again.

Slow and steady. Stretching yourself open with two fingers until you're spreading around your knuckles, and then out and away. And then once again, rubbing your clit until you can feel just how empty you are, clenching down around nothing. The tears well up this time, and Wanda coos softly when you hiccup soft sobs into the phone.

She still makes you stop.

"That's two, detka. Just one more. One more. You can do it, can't you?"

You nod limply, fingers seated deep inside your cunt. It feels glorious, to be full just for this one moment, walls fluttering around something until Wanda orders you to pull them back out, and then you're hollow again, incomplete.

This time, she has you rub even longer, twice as long as you had to before. She makes you pause whenever your breathing speeds to much, or you moan too loud. She tells you to keep your fingers on your clit no matter what, even if you're paused, just to feel the way it throbs underneath your fingertips.

When it does, she asks you to count each pulse out loud, to tell her exactly how much you need her, how much you need more.

"Okay, baby, you can stop now," she orders, after making you count for the fifth time.

"Get your vibrator, sweetheart. Press it in as far as it will go, okay?"

You reach over to the bedside table, fumbling with the drawer until you find the small vibe, sucking on the tip for only a moment before you're eagerly cramming it into your cunt. It feels heavenly, to finally have something inside again, and you moan softly.

"Good girl," Wanda coos from the phone, and you feel the way the vibrator comes to life.

It's slow, probably at the lowest setting, but you're still grateful for the way the vibrations pulse outward, rippling through your nerves deliciously.

"Oh, sweetheart," Wanda murmurs. "You've been so good for mommy today. So sweet. So obedient. Do you want to come?"

You whine eagerly, half-sentences forming in your throat.

"Please, mommy, please. Want. Wanna come. Please."

Wanda chuckles softly, and the vibrator jacks up to the highest setting. You sob gratefully into the phone, your entire body shivering as pleasure finally floods into you.

"Whenever you want, detka," she hums.

The orgasm is aggressive, fast, overpowering. It crashes through your entire body, your toes curling and back arching as all the tension you've built up for the past hour is finally released.

But even after you've come down, panting loudly into the speaker, Wanda doesn't stop the vibrator. She lets it run, still thrumming harshly deep inside of you, until you're tipped over into a second orgasm. The second orgasm is just a tinge of painful, but that ache quickly bleeds into euphoria again.

When she still doesn't stop, you begin to beg, pleading incoherently with Wanda to turn down the vibrator, to stop completely.

Wanda gives no indication at all that she's heard you.

The third orgasm is an all-consuming heatwave, burning through every raw nerve ending as your entire body is left twitching in the aftermath. The fourth and fifth completely remove all sense of coherency and reality from you. Even still, the vibrator keeps buzzing away, tucked deep in your cunt. Wanda murmurs the whole way through, reassurances sweet in her mouth.

She still doesn't stop, though, even when you've lost your voice from how much you've moaned and cried through each orgasm.

You don't even know how many times you actually come. At least 7 times, you think. When she finally turns the vibrator off, you're a complete mess, drenched in sweat and tears, your thighs coated in sticky arousal and come.

"You're okay, detka," she murmurs through the phone.

"You've been so lovely for me. Can you do just one more, baby? Just one more? Mommy wants to hear another one, pretty please?"

You whimper hoarsely, already overstimulated beyond belief, but it doesn't even matter, because the vibrator is buzzing to life yet again.

"Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it. Mommy knows you can. You're so good for me."

You manage to choke out a moan as pleasure builds in your gut yet again, aching and burning. It hurts, but it also feels euphoric.

"Be a darling and rub your clit for mommy, okay? Nice and hard, baby."

You cry out when you do, fingers pressed into your clit as you nudge along another orgasm. It's all too much, but Wanda only turns the vibrator higher. All of a sudden, the orgasm crashes through you, and you shudder one last time, squeezing down on the pulsing vibrator inside you.

You cry out unintelligibly, and Wanda turns the vibrator down, letting you ride out your final orgasm before shutting it off.

"Such a good girl for me, detka," she coos softly. "You're so lovely for me, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you."

You hum into the phone, listening to the way it crackles with sound. You have half a mind to pull the vibrator back out and you leave it on the nightstand, but your uncooperative legs won't let you stand, let alone walk to the bathroom to clean up.

"It's okay, baby. You can go to sleep now. Mommy will be back in no time, okay?"

"Love you, Wanda," you murmur, eyelids already drooping with exhaustion.

As you drift off, vision swimming and blurring, you hear Wanda's honeyed voice come through the speakers again.

"Love you too, detka."

Slipping away into dreamland, you're met with the same dream as you have been for days now. When you're met with green eyes and red hair this time, you no longer feel so hollow—instead, warmth floods through you. The world around the two of you takes shape, changes colors, blissful and bright.

Wanda's eyes sparkle as she laughs at you, tugging you along to nowhere in particular, and you find yourself smiling—genuine and full.

[syrenqinche]

SECRET TIMES ~ CALEB

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ silly spicy times with Mr. Colonel

MDNI | smut

˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

✧. ┊ TL certified panty sniffer but when he starts dating you, he wants to sniff the panties right at their source sometimes. Would kneel down and bury his nose into your clothed pussy while you're lounging on the sofa, to take in your scent and whimper like a hungry puppy. He licks wet stripes up your lacy panties until you give him company in moaning, and then proceeds to push the panties aside to drag his chapped lips up and down your nether lips, lubricating both with his saliva and your slick.

✧. ┊ His favorite place to give you hickeys are your inner thighs and pussy lips. Sometimes when he gets a long holiday, he will game with his friends online. But while doing so, he wants you to ride his face. He has positioned his gaming monitor in such a way that he can look at it with ease while laying down as you're crumbling on top of his mouth. By the time his 2-hour gaming round is done, your thighs and pussy lips are a swollen, red mess.

✧. ┊ He also seemingly gets a thrill from the danger of being caught. He likes to do the dirty in places where he could get in trouble if caught. Like the DAA office, or the hunter's association office. The two of you show up in your uniforms, and he will take you by your ass behind one of the walls during peak hours, while your moans get drowned out by foot traffic and chatter in the hallways. Soon as he has had his fill with a quick fuck, he lets you go on your way to report for missions while he leaves to attend his top secret executive meetings.

✧. ┊ Seems like he'll take this whole uniform thing to the bedroom as well. He knows and notices you are particularly squirmy when you see him in his colonel uniform.

"N-no, Colonel Caleb, what if someone sees us! The associations would come after me and I-"

"Do you think anyone would dare to interfere with the Colonel's personal life, honey?"

Caleb would say, soothing your back and hips as he pushes into you.

The two of you would role-play as the colonel and a rookie hunter for hours, and it would get sloppy and nasty very quick. Of course, this would be on the weekends so you have time to wash your uniforms ;)

✧. ┊ Sometimes, when you get mad at him, he also has a habit of begging for forgiveness by pushing his face into your ass from the behind. "Please, my cute little, plushie." He'd babble. "I'm sorry. I told you." He'd plead, biting into the flesh of your ass and gripping your thighs with his muscular arms.

"Ughh, get off Caleb." you'd try to wiggle out of his iron hold but he won't let go.

"I will literally die if you don't turn around right now and let me eat you out, pipsqueak."

And you do turn around just to be faced with his puppy eyes and what else can you even do? You slide down your pants so Caleb can ravish you again.

˚ ◌༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ

[arc-misadventures]

The Bro Code

Ren: Oh, I'm so glad to be home!

Jaune: So am I. I know it's not my home, but this place has always felt like a second home to me.

Ren: I'm glad you think so. We'll be spending our time here at my mothers place, is that alright?

Jaune: That's just fine. Can you tell me about your family again? As confusing as mine family is because of my dad, yours just baffles the mind.

Ren: My mom is a human, and so is my dad.

Jaune: And, your sister is a god...?

Ren: She is the latest reincarnation of my villages guardian, the spiritual deity know as the, Emerald Dragon.

Jaune: Okay, and how did that happen? Did your mom sleep with this, Emerald Dragon, or...?

Ren: The Emerald Dragon has always been a female, so she didn't impregnate my mother!

Jaune: I'm sorry! I don't mean to imply anything, it's just... that can happen.

Ren: ...

Ren: I-Is that how one of your sisters...?

Jaune: No, but certain dragons can change genders, so...?

Ren: ...

Ren: The Emerald Dragon reincarnates into the child of any woman whilst it is in the womb. When my sister was born she came out as part dragon, signifying that she was the latest host of the, Emerald Dragon.

Jaune: Ahh... Now it makes sense. It's weird, but I've heard worse.

Ren: Okay, but Jaune there's something we need to talk about before we see my family.

Jaune: Which is?

Ren: Don't you dare fuck my sister!

Jaune: Okay.

Ren: I mean it, Jaune I'm invoking the bro code here! So don't even think about flirting with my sister!

Jaune: Okay.

Ren: I may see you as my brother from another mother...

Jaune: And, I too brother!

Ren: But, stay the fuck away from my sister!

Jaune: Okay.

Ren: ...

Jaune: ...

Ren: Okay then.

~~~

Li: Lie! It's so good to see you!

Ren: Hi dad, it's nice to see you too.

An: Renny! Oh my little baby is home!

Ren: Mom, please don't embarrass me in front of my friend...

Jaune: No please! I'm enjoying this~!

Ren: Traitor!

Li: Hahaha! Hello, Jaune it is nice to see you again.

Jaune: It's good to see you as well, Mr. Ren. And, to you as well, Mrs. Ren.

An: Hello, Jaune it's wonderful to see you again. I know, Rin was looking forward to seeing you again.

Jaune: Oh... is she?

An: Indeed she is, why in fact... Oh, Rinny~?

Rin: What is it mom?

An: Ren's home!

Rin: OH, cool that's nice...

An: And, he brought his friend, Jaune with him~!

Rin: J-J-Jaune?! Jaune's here?!

"Crash! Shatter! Thud!"

Rin: Jaune!? Ahem! Hi, Jaune it's nice to see you~!

Jaune: Hi, Rin it's a pleasure to see you too.

Rin: So, Jaune you interested in doing anything later~? Like say taking a walk by the pond... the lily pads are in bloom...

Jaune: Oh, that sounds lovely! Would you like to accompany us, Ren?

Rin: Eh...?

Ren: I would love to!

Rin: Oh.. oh no you didn't... !

Li: Well before we go do that, Jaune.

Jaune: Yes?

Li: To the bath with you. I'm sorry but you, Valians tend to stink when you get all sweaty.

Jaune: Considering my family I could also add a number of other reasons why, but I would greatly appreciate that! The last bath I had was mostly to clean the gore off my gear. Of which my armour also needs a thorough cleaning... Well then, off to the bath!

Li: Please follow me, Jaune.

An: I'll go start supper while you do so.

Li: Thank you dear. Jaune, follow me?

Jaune: Lead the way. Ren, are you coming?

Ren: Yes, I'll join you.

Rin: Wait, can I talk to you before you go, Ren?

Ren: Sure what is it sis?

Rin: And they're out of sight...?

Rin: Okay good!

"Pow!"

Ren: OW?! What the hell, Rin?! Why did you punch me in the face?!

Rin: To tell you that I don't give a shit!

Ren: ...?

Ren: About what?

Rin: About your fucking bro code! I've been waiting for months for, Jaune to come by again so he smash my sacred treasure again! And, no one, not my mother, my father, my brother, and not some fucking stupid bro code is going to stop me! You understand?!

Ren: But... but the bro..?! Wait... Again?!

Rin: Shut the fuck up! I'm going to fuck that blonde Adonis, and if you try to stop me, I will fucking barbeque you! You here me?!

Ren: ...

Ren: Okay...

~~~

Jaune: Ahh... This nice...

"Splash."

Jaune: Hmm? Oh, hey, Ren the waters... Why do you have a black eye?

Ren: Jaune... You may sleep with my sister... again...

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Okay...

[fizzyapplecandy]

The one with the shy bunny and the rowdy cat Part 2

Part 1

Ateez Seonghwa X Wooyoung X Reader

Genres and warnings: hybrid imagine, poly relationships (no mxm), strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, mild language, mild smut (in the last chapter), mature scenes

Word count: 4.7k

Special tags: @pshmars @itzbrigitte-blog @atiny-dime-p1ece

You tell the boys your story, and the three of you decide what to do next.

"Wake up you rodent!"

The blanket was pulled off you and you were grabbed by the arm. Jisung lifted you up, and you could see the anger seeping through his eyes.

"What did I say about sleeping in? Huh?! When are you gonna learn?"

He let go of you quite harshly and you fell to the floor.

Your hands went over your ears immediately, because you knew he'd pull on them otherwise.

"I-I'm sorry. I w-was so tired f-from yesterday."

He laughed. "Tired? Don't tell me you're softening up? Should we go over your morning routine, again?"

Jisung rolled up his sleeves and crouched in front of you. He was trying to intimidate you, and it was working.

"N-No Sir, please! It won't happen a-again!"

Your chin was roughly yanked up. His sinister smile brought chills down your spine.

"We'll see about that."

You were yanked from your nightmare, and you could see you were in unfamiliar surroundings. Thankfully, you escaped the events that were about to unfold in your dream. Or was it more of a memory? With everything that happened at that house of horrors, you can't quite decipher.

The room you were currently in was not yours, and you vaguely remember the events of the previous day. This is Wooyoung's and Seonghwa's house, and they were kind enough to let you rest and eat. You had to get going soon, otherwise they'd think you're greedy and regret helping you.

You glanced at the alarm clock on the table, your every bulging out in shock. How have you slept past 12 o'clock? That never happened, you weren't allowed. What would the boys think?

Oh God. Would they think you're doing this to stay longer than you're welcomed? How would you explain this?

Thankfully, your train of thought was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

"Bunny? Are you finally up? I'd let you sleep more, but I'm so bored out here! Can I come in?"

Why was he asking for your permission to enter his room? He could go whatever he wanted. You were too lost in your thoughts to answer, so he lightly knocked again.

"Bunny?"

"C-Come in." You whispered, hoping he'd hear you.

Wooyoung slowly opened the door and stepped inside. He was wearing comfy clothes that seemed too big on him, but he looked cute. Maybe he'd give you something to take with you when you leave today. His sweaters seemed warm enough for the weather outside.

"Good morning sleepyhead. How was your night?"

You leaned up against the headboard, hugging your knees to your chest.

"I-It was fine. I s-slept well." You cleared your throat and continued.

"W-When can I go? I-I'm sorry I didn't wake up earlier."

He looked flabbergasted for a second.

"Go? What do you mean go?"

"Well... I have to leave today, r-right?"

He was next to you in a flash, grabbing both of your hands and squeezing them tightly. Your eyes widened, and you froze in place.

"You're not going anywhere bunny! I... We told you yesterday that you're staying here! Hwa told me not to talk to you about it before he gets home, but he knows I won't listen."

Wooyoung noticed your stance, so he softened his hold on you. He shuffled closer, placing his head on your knees. You could see the mole under his eye clearly, and he did look adorable. The smile on his face soon reflected on you, and you loosened up.

"Y-You really want me to s-stay?"

He nodded, placing a soft kiss on one of your knees.

"We really do. Hwa said it's up to you in the end, but just so you know, I won't stop until you're ours."

Your gaze now softened. Wooyoung was serious about keeping you, and Seonghwa seemed to be on the same page. The cat was rooted in the spot, not moving his head from your knees, and then you remembered something from yesterday.

Almost shyly, you placed your hand on his head. His eyes widened, but surprisingly, he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to ruin the moment. After making yourself comfortable, you placed your fingers behind his ear and started scratching.

Immediately, he began purring, and you felt the vibrations from his chest on your legs. His eyes closed, and the cat looked absolutely blissful.

"That's the spot... You're so good at this bunny. I could crash out right here."

Which he literally did. He pushed your knees down until your legs were flat on the bed before he laid himself over them. His head was now on your plush thighs, his arms around your waist. Wooyoung looked peaceful, and you weren't about to ruin the moment, even though you felt a bit nervous.

"Keep going, I'm just getting comfortable."

Your hand went back to his ear, the other one smoothing down his ruffled black hair.

The purrs were only getting louder as time went on. You didn't even know for how long you've been at it for.

Wooyoung shifted on the bed, and you could see his tail swishing more rapidly in the air. The energy changed, and the room became stuffy all of the sudden. You weren't used to this feeling, so you tried moving, but it only made the cat protest.

"No, no, don't stop. I was just about to..." As if he suddenly realised something, he shot up from his position and you could now clearly see the deep flush of his cheeks. His gaze was intense, and you didn't know what to do, or say. Luckily, Wooyung always had something to say.

"That was the best scratch of my life, bunny. I wish you'd let me do it to you as well."

You cowered away a bit, placing your hands over your ears. He wouldn't do that now, would he? You told them yesterday that you didn't want that. Wooyoung sensed your fear, and shook his head.

"Don't worry, I won't do it. I respect your wishes. It's just a shame..." He glanced at your bunny ears again before standing up from the bed.

He clapped his hands excitedly. "Now! Off we go, we have breakfast to make. Well, lunch to be precise. Hwa knows I like to sleep in, but I was too pumped to see you so I woke up really early. But, I didn't do a thing, so now we have to hurry before he comes home."

The cat turned around and went towards the door. He glanced back at you, still frozen in your spot.

"I'll set out some clothes in the bathroom, go change and come keep me company."

With that, he left you alone again to process the last thirty minutes.

He was a peculiar being, and you kind of liked him because of that. He was unapologetically himself, and he showed affection towards others with no problem.

Wooyoung made you comfortable, and you were thankful for that.

You got out of bed feeling a bit lighter, and made your way towards the bathroom. You could hear pots and glasses being moved in the kitchen, so you figured Wooyoung started on lunch.

There was a fresh set of clothes on the washer that smelled strongly of Wooyoung, so you knew those were only his clothes. He probably made sure to scent them even more before he placed them in the bathroom, because you also noticed his possessiveness along with other quirks.

Your morning routine was cut incredibly short because Wooyoung was shouting for you to hurry up every two minutes. He followed up with 'I miss you, I need you here.' and it honestly gave you a headache. You kind of understand Seognhwa better.

"There you are! I was about to pass out of boredom. Look at you! So cute in my clothes!" He sniffed around you, looking pleased with himself. There was still a trace of your scent left, but it mixed well with his. He grabbed you by the hand and sat you on a chair by the kitchen island.

"Now, my little helper, you just sit here and look pretty."

"B-But I want to do s-something."

He crouched down and gently placed his hands on your cheeks, squishing your face and cooing at you.

"You're doing so much just by being here. I won't be so lonely anymore, and that's the best thing you can do."

You looked into each other's eyes, and you had to admit, he was incredibly handsome so up close.

"I w-won't be lonely either." You managed to say.

"Oh sweetie..."

Before you knew it, his arms went around you and he pushed his face into the crook of your neck. Wooyoung inhaled deeply, letting himself enjoy the moment of closeness with someone that wasn't Hwa.

The other thing he noticed was how you made him feel something Seognhwa certainly didn't, and that might become a problem.

He smiled when he felt your tiny hands on his back, unsure, but eager to reciprocate the affection.

"Take your time, bunny. You can hug me, and pet me, and kiss me anytime you want, you know?"

You pulled back to look at his face, now extremely close to yours.

"K-Kiss?"

He nodded. "Yeah, kiss. You know what that is, right?"

"Kind o-of." You whispered.

The grin on his face made him more wolfish than a cat, and you kind of shied away.

"I can show you, you know. I promise you'll like it."

You didn't know what to say. On one hand, his offer was tempting. You were sure Wooyoung wouldn't do anything harmful, but the idea of a kiss was new to you.

"Hmm? What do you say, bunny? Can I show you?"

His finger traced your cheek, slowly going over your bottom lip. He paid close attention to your reaction, and he was pleased to find you almost completely relaxed around him.

His hand went back to your cheek, caressing it softly, before he began leaning down.

You kind of wanted it to happen. You remember the other hybrids at the shelter talking about how they wished they'd get many kisses, and how it was such a lovely thing. You don't remember it being quite like this, but you didn't want to complain. Having Wooyoung so close made you feel kind of warm inside.

The universe seemed to think this wasn't the right moment, because you heard the front door opening.

"Guys? I'm home!" Seonghwa's voice boomed through the apartment, and the both of you froze in place. Wooyoung was quick to snap out of it, going back to the counter and grabbing a knife to cut the vegetables he laid out. You, however, sat completely still, cheeks probably red, and couldn't get a single word out.

"We're in the kitchen! Lunch will be served a bit late today!"

"What? You know I have to go back to the bakery in two hours."

Seonghwa was about to complain some more, but when he rounded the corner and noticed your dazed expression and Wooyoung's tense back, he stopped.

"What's going on?" he asked, pointing at you.

Wooyoung turned around, and now he saw his flustered expression matching yours.

"What? Nothing? What are you talking about? Come and help if you want to eat."

Seonghwa turned towards you. "Is everything okay, Y/N?"

You managed to nod slightly, but he didn't want to pry anymore. There were more serious topics you needed to discuss after lunch.

He went over to Wooyoung and the men made a quick meal for all of you. There wasn't any conversation flowing between you after they encouraged you to take a bite like yesterday.

It wasn't until Seognhwa was washing the dishes that he cleared his throat and got your and Wooyoung's attention.

"I suppose you've already told Y/N about our offer?"

Wooyoung nodded rather enthusiastically from his spot on the couch. You were perched on the sofa, too far away for his liking, but you were still apprehensive about your little encounter.

"That I did. Ask her hyung, please, please!"

Seognhwa put down the dish towel he was holding and made his way over to the two of you. He sat beside Wooyoung, who was gleaming from joy.

"Well, Y/N... We know you have had a tough time, and we figured you'd be safer with us here. Wooyoung needs a friend, and I find you really lovely. What do you say about staying with us permanently?"

You glanced at them, keeping quiet even though your thoughts were scattered. Wooyoung has made it clear that he wants you here, and now Seonghwa only confirmed it. Could you really start over with them?

"I... I w-want to stay, but... T-There's nothing special about me. I-I'm not fun to be around."

The cat's eyes widened, and he dropped to his knees in front of you, holding onto your knees as if you'd disappear any second.

"Don't say that! You're so small and soft, and so pretty. And! You give the best pets. I'm sorry Hwa, but this girl right here, she's a pro."

The blonde man chuckled at his hybrid's antics. At least he managed to bring a small smile onto your face.

"You hear him Y/N? Wooyoung thinks you are special, and so do I. It's up to you in the end, we won't force you to stay. If you want to go, then-"

"No! Absolutely not!" Wooyoung tightened his grip around your legs and shook his head.

"Woo, let go of her. We need to let Y/N answer for herself."

Wooyoung got quiet, but he didn't let go. You somehow knew he wouldn't, and you didn't mind.

Thinking it over in your head, the logical option would be to keep living with them. You wouldn't be in fear 24/7, and you would always have a warm bed, and some company. You were starting to like the black cat, and Seonghwa seemed like a person you could trust. He wasn't like other humans you've met, but you doubted there would be anything worse than Jisung.

Speaking of him, you probably had to tell them about yourself and your situation. You were still legally Jisung's, and that could cause problems.

"I-I'd like to stay here w-with you."

"Yes! Oh yes, yes! Thank you bunny!" Wooyoung shot up from his place on the floor and practically climbed onto your lap. It was a tight fit on the sofa, but you moved around to accommodate him. Seonghwa watched with amusement at you, coming to sit on the floor in front of you both.

"That's wonderful. We can take you shopping tomorrow, you need new clothes. Although Wooyoung wouldn't mind sharing his, I still think you need your own wardrobe."

You lifted your head from the cat's chest and gazed into Seonghwa's kind eyes.

"Are you sure? I-I can manage with anything."

He nodded. "Absolutely. You deserve it."

Seognhwa took a deep breath before continuing.

"Now comes the not so fun part. We need to know what happened to you. Do you have an owner, or are you really a stray?"

Even though you knew the question was coming, it didn't make it any easier to answer. Wooyoung stoked your arm and it encouraged you to start telling them your story. Surprisingly, your voice didn't tremble one bit.

"I lived at a shelter before Jisung came and adopted me. He seemed nice enough, and I really wanted to have a home to call my own. It didn't take long for him to show his true colours... Life with him..." You kind of got lost in your thoughts for a moment, but the boys didn't pressure you to go on. They waited until you took a couple deep breaths, and Seonghwa intervened.

"It's okay sweetie. You don't have to go into detail, we kind of get it now. You, and Wooyoung, have to realise that we can't just keep you here. It wouldn't be legal. We have to find your owner and get him to sign over the paperwork."

Your eyes widened and you de tangled yourself from Wooyoung.

"Please no! Please! I can't see him again, he'll take me away!" You were now on your knees in front of Seonghwa, pleading with him, hands clasped together.

The poor man didn't know what to do. Seonghwa knew this wasn't going to be easy.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but we can't do this without him. We can give it a couple more days, but we risk losing you forever if we keep quiet about it. If we look at this from a legal perspective, it will seem like we stole you from him."

"That's not fair! That's pure crap!" Wooyoung's ears were now pinned straight on his head, and his tail angrily swished behind him. The boy was angry, and if Wooyoung managed to get so angry, it was serious.

"I'm sorry Woo, but I'm just stating facts."

Seonghwa carefully took your hands in his, sensing how stressed you became. Your nose was twitching constantly, and your fluffy bunny ears were down turned.

"Y/N, I promise you, I will do everything I can to make you ours. We won't give up on you. As I've said, let's give it some time before we do anything drastic. We'll let you settle in, but then we have to get serious."

You sniffed, and tears were about to fall out of your red eyes.

"But what if he wants to take me back? I don't want to go with him Seonghwa."

If you weren't in such poor shape, he'd feel even better hearing his name coming from you in that sweet voice of yours. But now was not the time, so he took a chance and wrapped his arms around your small frame.

"We're not giving you up. If he wants to fight, we'll take him. Isn't that right Woo?"

The cat was behind you in a flash, wrapping his arms around Seonghwa's, squishing you between them.

"Yes, absolutely. I won't let him have you bunny. You're ours now. Don't think about the bad stuff anymore, from now on, we're going to be so happy together. To celebrate-" He stood up and went over to Seonghwa's bag on the counter.

He rummaged around and Seonghwa groaned.

"-We will be going shopping right now! We can't wait until tomorrow, we want to make our bunny happy. Ah, here it is!"

He pulled out Seonghwa's wallet and took out what seemed to be a credit card.

"This right here is Y/N's ticket to happiness! Come now, we have to hurry! We've got a long day ahead. You don't mind Hwa, right? I mean, you're practically rich, so let us enjoy it."

"I work hard for that money, you know?"

Wooyoung pulled you away from his, no, not his, your owners hands.

"I know. And we will appreciate it even more, isn't that right bunny?"

You didn't know what to say, so you just nodded.

"See, we agree. Now, let's go! We'll see you tonight Hwa!"

Wooyoung quickly pulled you out the door before you had a chance to protest, and off the two of you went. It gave Seonghwa a chance to assess their situation in peace.

They wanted you with them, that much was certain, but what about your owner? He must be a bad man, otherwise you wouldn't have ran off. They had to build a good case and present it to a judge. That way, they could have you without much hassle. It would be better for you as well, seeing how easily frightened you became at the thought of going back to your previous home.

He had another half hour before he had to make his way back to work, and an idea popped into his head. It was time to use some of his friend's legal skills. With his phone in his hand, he dialed a number he knew by heart. After two rings, the person on the other end picked up.

"Hey there Hongjoong, how are you? Good, good... Say, would you be interested in taking on a new hybrid case?"

.

.

"Do you want a blanket? I can share my kitty one, but some nights I like it all to myself. Oh! We can sleep in the same bed, that way we can both have it at the same time!"

Wooyoung was too enthusiastic about this shopping trip. The rollercoaster of emotions you went through didn't seem to phase him, or maybe he was just trying to distract you from thinking about anything as well.

It was working, to some degree.

You were now in a random store, picking through shirts and pants for you. There was an obvious colour pallet of soft pinks and lilacs going around, and Wooyoung couldn't get enough of making cute outfits for you. It was a stark contrast to the black mini skirts and tight tank tops Jisung made you wear.

After two bags filled with clothes, you moved on to some personal things for your room. You'd obviously have to share with Wooyoung, according to him, so you could pick something to add to his shelves.

You were interested in the colouring books, so he picked those up, as well as a bracelet making kit. He said you'd do it together, and make the three of you friendship bracelets.

"I can sleep on the couch, you know? It's your room after all."

He almost looked offended by that.

"On the couch? No, not a chance. We're sharing now, I want to do it. Unless..." He looked kind of sad.

"Unless you don't want to? I can be a bit much, I know... But I really want us to stay together."

Maybe even the confident cat needed some reassurance from time to time. You came close to him and took his hand in yours.

"I think I will be just fine."

He quickly covered his surprise with a smile, which you mirrored back at him.

Before you knew it, your hands were filled with bags, your feet were killing you, and your stomach hasn't stopped growling for half an hour.

"W-Wooyoung, I think I'm done shopping for today. I don't know how you enjoy this."

Only then did he notice how worn out his bunny was.

As soon as you opened the front door, you could sense a delicious aroma going around the apartment. Seonghwa's shoes were on the rack, so you figured he didn't want to wait for Wooyoung to come back and cook.

"Oh baby! Come on, let's head back. We need to decorate our room, pack your stuff, cook dinner.. If Hwa comes home to an empty stove he'll crash out." Wooyoung giggled, and you sensed this wouldn't be the first time he'd made Hwa wait for his meals.

"Hey! Did you have a good time today?" You heard his voice before you rounded the corner trailing behind Wooyoung. Seonghwa was already seated at the kitchen island, a variety of delicious side dishes and a stew spread across the surface.

"We had the best time! Thank you for your money hyung!" Wooyoung placed a kiss on top of Seonghwa's head before sitting down next to him.

"Is this what kisses are like?" The boys looked over at you, and Seonghwa was confused. The cat next to him froze for a second.

"Well, yes. Wooyoung likes to give kisses. You can tell him no if he tries."

"Maybe... Maybe I'd want one too."

The boys looked at each other, a bit surprised. Well, Wooyoung wasn't, because he knew if Seonghwa hadn't come home when he did, you'd be long past kissing. If you asked him, that is.

"Y/N, do you want kisses?" Seonghwa asked.

You nodded, too afraid to speak up. This wasn't something you'd usually do, but looking at how happy they were, you wanted to try it out.

Before Seonghwa could even stand up, Wooyoung was in front of you, holding onto your cheeks. You looked up at him, and his gaze almost made you melt.

"You're gonna get different kisses than Hwa, and I hope that's okay."

You were confused for a second, before you felt it.

The light peck he left on your lips.

It was fast, and it felt more like a soft touch than a real kiss, but it still happened. The two of you looked at each other, and you hoped your cheeks weren't flaming red. Wooyoung's certainly were.

"Hey Woo, you can't just kiss the lady like that. You have to ask for-"

"It's okay, Seonghwa." You interrupted him before he got too angry at the silly cat. Wooyoung let go of you, and you made your way to your potential new owner. You weren't as comfortable with him as you were with your fellow hybrid, but that was expected. You did, however, find him ridiculously beautiful and kind, and you knew your bond would grow stronger.

"I... Wooyoung is the closest thing I've had to a friend in a long time... He makes me feel... Safe. You do as well. I hope you don't mind me doing this, but I want to show you how thankful I am."

You leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, catching his eyes afterwards. He was smiling, and his eyes glazed over.

"Thank you, sweetie. I'd also like to give you a little kiss, is that okay?"

You nodded, and Hwa gave you a tender kiss on the cheek as well.

"Oh come on hyung, you call that a kiss?"

"Shut it kitty cat or I'm taking Y/N all to myself tomorrow."

Wooyoung gasped, starting to ramble about how unfair life was, and many other things you couldn't quite catch on.

Dinner was great, and you ate with a smile on your face. The boys helped you unpack afterwards, and Hwa put all of the clothes in the washing machine. Tonight you'd wear something of theirs again, but tomorrow you'll be in your own jumpers and shorts. You chose them yourself, and that was the most important thing.

Afterwards, all three of you took turns in the shower before Hwa came into your room to settle you for the night.

This will be your first night sleeping with Wooyoung, and he looked more than excited.

"Now remember Woo, let the girl breathe. You can cuddle, but you can't squish her. Ask her before you try, please. And no funny business, I'm serious."

Seonghwa looked like a mom scolding her child, but Wooyoung didn't mind. He only nodded, making sure you were settled in before coming closer to your body.

"Can I cuddle you, bunny? Only till I fall asleep, then you can roll me over!"

You nodded, finding it funny how he eagerly made the two of you comfortable. His strong arms wrapped around your middle, and his head rested on top of yours.

"There we go. Kick him if you need to Y/N." Seonghwa stood up and turned on the little night light across the room.

Before he went out, he called your name again.

"I've spoken to a good friend of mine today. He's a hybrid law student, and he's going to help us with your case. We've got the best or the best here, so you'll be officially ours in no time."

Your eyes softened as you watched him, and you couldn't believe somebody you've met a couple days ago would go through such a hassle for you.

"Thank you, Seonghwa. You're the best."

"That he is! Good job hyung!"

"Oh will you let me have a moment with her? Thank you Y/N." He sighed when he saw his cat pouting.

"Thank you Wooyoung. Now go to sleep."

He shut the door to their room and left them to their own devices.

Today was a big day for Y/N, so Wooyoung made sure to tone down the conversation as much as he could. That didn't mean he could stop talking altogether.

"I'm so happy right now I could jump around!"

You smiled. "Please don't, I'm too tired to watch out for you."

"You? For me? Oh that makes me feel special." He laughed.

His arms tightened around you, and he let out a satisfied sigh.

"You're our bunny now... My pretty bunny..."

With that, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, and for the first time in forever...

You didn't have any nightmares.

.

.

The Final part will be out sometime next week, so stay tuned to see how their story turns out. :)

Lots of love, and happy reading X

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Monster Movie | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader ( :0 ? )

Warnings: all of 'em. put 'em all here. mentions of disordered eating, descriptions of severe anxiety, dean is lowkey being the worst, burns, injuries, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 3587

A/N: I'm gonna keep it very real with y'all. Please heed the warnings about anxiety and disordered eating. If I am honest, I kinda got triggered writing it as I pulled the experience of my character from my own experience in a previous relationship. Obviously, the circumstances were very different, but I used to get tonnnssss of anxiety specifically while eating that ended in me becoming malnourished because the person I was dating was so horrible to me. Dean isn't like that, though, and I guess I kind of used this chapter and this part of the character's arc to heal that pain still within me, even after years.

Please know I understand if you have to skip out on this chapter for the reasons above. The beginning of season 4 is going to be very rocky as Dean and (Y/N) continue to learn to trust each other again, but I hope to see you in the coming weeks as the storm begins to calm. Much love to you, as always.

-m

“Dean,” you breathed out, eyes filling with tears. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” He sat in the chair across from the bed that he’d undoubtedly put you in.

“Dean, I’m so sorry—” 

That seemed to send a ping of anger through him, but he suppressed it. “We can talk about that later. Are you okay?” 

“I think so,” you said. You pushed yourself up with a wince and noticed the gauze around your left forearm and right calf. “You did this?” 

He nodded. 

You smiled lopsidedly, cheeks heating. “Thank you.” You tried to joke lightheartedly. “You’re finally getting a hang of the right way to dress a burn.”

“Eh, I had a good teacher,” he shrugged. 

You’d missed this so much; the comfort in the mundane moments with him. 

Both of you seemed a little too scared to say anything, and you stared at your scraped up hands instead of at him. 

“I’m still pissed at you,” he stated.

You nodded. “I figured.”

Another moment of tense silence passed between you.

“Once you’re healed, I still want you gone,” Dean said. His blunt tone felt like a sucker punch to the gut.

Even still, you nodded. “That’s fair.”

Dean nodded sharply and got to his feet. When he’d nearly left the room, he turned around again. “Why aren’t you fighting me on this?”

You threw your hands up in defeat. “What do you want me to say, Dean?”

He approached the bed you were in once more. “Something. Anything. Be mad. Yell at me. Call me an asshole. Dammit, tell me what happened. Explain it all away. Just something!” 

You used the side of your thumb to apply pressure to the bridge of your nose. “Well, you pretty definitively told me to leave and not to come back at Bobby’s.”

“I gave you a choice!”

“A choice you couldn’t even begin to understand the difficulty of!” you shouted back. 

“Okay, so tell me!” he yelled. “Help me understand! Because you’re not making sense to me, (Y/N)!”

You huffed, going quiet for a moment. “I can’t,” you finally breathed out, hiding your face from him. 

Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course, you can’t,” he muttered angrily. He started back for the door. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him hesitate while he grabbed the door handle. When the door shut behind him, you felt your heart sink.

****

Being in the backseat of the Impala again was an amazing feeling. You were tired of going it alone. However, the tense atmosphere was something you could do without.

“The radio around here sucks,” Dean grumbled. He turned it off, briefly stealing a glance at his skulking brother. “Come on, man. Jobs don't get much sweeter than this, you know? Dead vic with a gnawed-on neck, body drained of blood, and a witness who swears up and down that it was a vampire.” He was making it clear he was going the route of ignoring you and only addressing you with a sharp comment when absolutely necessary.

“No, I- I agree,” Sam said half-heartedly. “It’s a hell of a case.” “A little more gusto, please.”

“It's just... the world is coming to an end. Things are a little complicated, you know?”

“C’mon, man, it's like the good old days, an honest-to-goodness monster hunt. It's about time we got back to tackling a straightforward, black and white case.”

****

“Oktoberfest 2008” was painted on a sign Dean drove past, and you watched people celebrating in tacky Lederhosen and barmaid costumes. 

“You stay,” Dean told you gruffly when he parked the car. 

You crossed your arms and stared out the window. 

“We still got to see the new Raiders movie,” Dean pointed at his brother as he got out of the car. 

“Saw it,” Sam replied monotonously. 

“Without me?” 

Their voices became distant as they shut the doors and walked away. 

You felt sick to your stomach. Everything you wanted to say to Dean— the things that had happened since he went to Hell, Uriel, Castiel, the things you’d done— they were all on the tip of your tongue. But then, he’d glare at you. Your heart would sink, and you’d retreat right back into yourself.

Marissa Wright was a young girl who’d been visiting the town for Oktoberfest. Strangely, she had two dark marks on her neck like a cartoonish vampire bite. At least, that was what you gathered from the pictures you’d snagged a peek at over Sam’s shoulder on the ride from the morgue to the bar Dean and Sam had left you outside of.

Frankly, Marissa Wright wasn’t interesting to you. At the moment, you were too concerned with your angel business. Uriel’s words about killing Sam loomed over you, and you felt like you couldn’t leave the Winchesters even once you were healed because of what Uriel was making you do.

Somehow, you needed to regain Dean’s trust. The idea of trying to manipulate him made you sick, but maybe it was what you needed to do to protect him. Even if he never understood why you did the things you did, at least he’d still be alive to wonder.

****

That night, you were unable to sleep. That, unfortunately, was not unusual. Yet again, you were alone in a motel room wishing to be next to Dean. 

The mirror had become your worst enemy. Shirts you’d stolen from Steven when he was a teenager hung even more loosely off you than they did before Dean died. Your arms lacked the muscle tone they once had, and you felt weaker and sicker with each passing day.

An anxiety was beginning to form within you that you’d become unhealthily dependent on Dean. You never wanted that for yourself; men had always been an accessory to you before Dean. You were complete on your own. Now, you weren’t sure what was wrong with you.

Was it that you missed Dean that much? Was it the angels? Was it the things you’d done? You supposed it was a combination of all of the above. 

****

The next morning, you opened the door to your room to see Sam. Your heart sank a bit that it wasn’t Dean, and it seemed like that much was evident based on your facial expression.

“Good to see you, too,” Sam chuckled.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Good morning, by the way.”

The brunet nodded, still seeming not to feel sure where he stood between you and his brother at the moment. “We’re leaving in five. Headed to the morgue, I think.”

“Another attack?” you asked.

Sam nodded. “Doesn’t sound anything like the last one, though.”

“Fun stuff,” you replied, pulling your boots on. “You think he’s gonna put me in the timeout chair again?”

The younger brother looked at the ground bashfully, and you sighed. “Yeah, I thought so, too.” 

****

Sure enough, Dean made you stay in the car again. It seemed he was deriving some strange satisfaction from keeping you separated from the case. Or maybe his joy came from the fact that it very visibly pissed you off.

When the boys returned to the car, you didn’t ask any questions about the case. Frankly, you weren’t interested. However, Sam was adamant about getting your input. 

“Wolf Man?” you scoffed. “Are you sure?”

“What, do you think we’re idiots?” Dean snapped.

You took a deep breath and nearly bit your tongue to keep yourself quiet. “It’s not that, Dean,” you said lowly. “It’s that it’s just sort of implausible to have found a wolf hair next to a body with its heart still intact and Dracula-accurate fang marks in that girl’s neck.”

“Thank you, Sherlock,” Dean snapped.

“Dean! Cut it out, man,” Sam warned. 

Dean seemed taken aback by Sam, but he didn’t press the issue. 

The ride remained silent until the three of you arrived at the bar Dean had left you outside the day before. 

Sam opened the door for you, encouraging you to get out despite the very obvious glares from his brother. 

Once inside the bar, you sat on the same side of the booth as Sam. Dean grumpily chomped on his burger, and Sam ate his meal silently. You didn’t even order anything; your stomach was too upset and tied in knots to properly digest anything. As soon as you tried, you knew you’d be in the bathroom puking your guts up. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat something?” Sam asked you.

You shook your head. 

“C’mon, not even a bite of mine?” he tried again.

You shook your head once more, feeling too shaky to say anything.

Dean looked up from his burger momentarily to address you. “C’mon, (Y/N), you gotta eat something.” His tone was still guarded, but it was nowhere near as harsh as it had been in the car.

“I’m fine,” you mustered out. 

You could feel Dean’s eyes on you, but you just stared down at the table in front of you and took a sip of your water.

The pretty blonde waitress, Jamie, bounded up to the table with two more beers for Sam and Dean. 

“Looks like you guys are staying a while. I heard about Rick Deacon,” she said, referencing the most recent victim. 

Dean nodded. “Yeah, this case just got weird enough for our department.”

“Well, beers are on me,” she replied with a smile. Then, she turned to Dean confidently. “And, just so you know, I get off at midnight tonight.”

“Oh, it's not another, uh, girls' night out?” Dean smirked up at her.

Your stomach fell to your shoes, and rage bubbled in your chest. However, you knew your anger was misplaced. He wasn’t yours anymore, and you needed to accept that.

Jamie returned his playful smile. “Doesn't have to be.”

“Okay, then. I'll see you tonight.”

“Okay, then.” And, with that, she left.

Sam noticed your discomfort, but he couldn’t offer you anything more than an empathetic look.

Without even noticing you, Dean said, “Hey, you think this Dracula could turn into a bat? That would be cool.”

**** Another murder, except this time, committed by a mummy. However, you and the brothers determined the “mummy” was using special effects from a prop house in Philadelphia to enhance his monstrous performance. You were either dealing with a Silence-of-the-Lamb-level psychopath, or… you weren’t really sure. Truth be told, you weren’t devoting even a half of your attention to this case. That seemed to put Dean off, slightly, and it made him even more sure you should be kept in the car. Secretly, you thought it was because he was worried about your wounds, but you also knew there was a really strong chance he just did not want to see you.

When Dean realized he’d be late for his date with Jamie, your heart sank. Still, Dean ran off and left you and Sam behind to investigate.

“(Y/N),” Sam said, turning to you. “You have got to eat something. You look like hell.”

“Don’t worry about me, Sam,” you responded absently. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. Talk to me.”

You continued to poke around the sarcophagus. “No,” you snapped. You realized how harsh you sounded. “I’m sorry, that was mean. I just— I can’t. I’m sorry.”

You could feel Sam scanning your face, but he just nodded slowly.

“I really am sorry, Sam,” you said sincerely.

His tone was soft and understanding. “I know you are.” 

As much as you didn’t really trust him as a result of the whole “Ruby” ordeal, Sam had a way of making you feel seen. He really was an incredible friend to you, and you hated what you felt your relationship was turning into. 

Not even ten minutes later, Sam got a call from Dean. With a panicked expression on his face, Sam gave you a look that meant the two of you needed to leave at that moment. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked. “Is Dean okay?” Your heart pounded in your throat.

“Dracula attacked,” Sam replied as he tried to hail a cab. 

“What?!” 

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s all I know right now.”

As soon as you made it to the bar, you burst through the doors. When you saw Dean sitting at a table with Jamie, your heart sank in the midst of your relief.

“Hey,” Sam called out, trailing behind you. “You guys all right?” Dean sighed. “Yeah, I think so. And I think I know what's going on.” He put a folded towel down on the table.

“Yeah?” his brother replied.

“Part of it, at least.”

You hesitantly reached out to the towel, trying to keep your distance from Jamie and Dean. He eyed you curiously while you opened the towel. An ear was inside. You lightly touched it; immediately recoiling as you realized what it was. 

“Shifter,” you stated, keeping your eyes anywhere but on Dean’s.

“Oh, man,” Sam huffed.

Dean nodded. “Just like St. Louis and just like Milwaukee. Of course this one's all holding buckets of crazy. Oh, and, uh—” he took a medallion out of his pocket and tossed it to Sam. “This, I uh, pulled it off during the fight. Look at the label on the ribbon.”

Sam scoffed when he read it. “It's a costume rental.”

“All three monsters— the Dracula, Wolf Man, and the mummy— all the same critter; which means we need to catch this freak before he Creature From the Black Lagoons somebody.”

Jamie’s voice broke in. “So, you guys are like Mulder and Scully or something, and The X-Files are real?”

You didn’t miss how Jamie failed to include you in the analogy.

“No, The X-Files is a TV show. This is real,” Dean replied.

“Oh.” The blonde looked down at the table in front of her.

“Okay, so, the stagecraft, the costuming—” Sam pointed out, “it's like he's trying to re-enact his favorite monster movie moments, right down to the bloody murders.”

Jamie furrowed her eyebrows. “Wait a second. Who the hell is Mina?”

“Mina?” Sam questioned. 

“Yeah. That's what he called Jamie,” Dean nodded. “And he called me Mr. Harker.”

You bit the inside of your lip. “Characters from the original Drac movies and novels. Harker’s Mina’s fiancé. Dracula’s obsessed with Mina. Seems he fixated on you, darlin’,” you nodded at Jamie, pushing down your jealousy.

You knew it was twisted to be jealous of a girl getting stalked, but it was just solidifying in your mind that Dean wasn’t yours anymore. And it was all your fault.

“Wow. Lucky me,” Jamie groaned.

“But to fixate on you, my guess is that the shifter has to have seen you before or been around you,” Sam added.

Dean turned to the blonde. “Jamie, has anybody strange come to town, somebody that has taken a specific notice of you?”

“I don't know, Dean. It's Oktoberfest. I'm a bartender. There's lots of people. I... wait a second. There is Ed.”

“ ‘Ed Brewer’ Ed?” Sam asked. You assumed it was someone they’d met earlier on the hunt; possibly while you were confined to the car.

“Yeah. He moved here about a month ago. Lucy swears he has a crush on me. He comes in almost every night. But, you know, I don't think he's the type of guy—”

“Where does Ed live?” Dean asked, cutting her off.

“I don't know. But he works at the old movie theater. I think he's the projectionist there.”

Sam looked to you and jerked his head toward the door. You turned on your heel, hearing Sam ask Dean to take care of “Mina” before he followed behind you. Anger bubbled in your chest, but you were trying to keep your feelings from seeping out.

****

You cocked your gun against the back of the head of Mr. Ed Brewer. 

“Whoa!” Brewer asked, holding his hands up in surrender. “W-Wait just one second, okay?” He tried to turn around to face you.

“Don’t move,” you commanded, voice eerily cold.

“W-What do you want?”

“You know what you did, Ed,” you replied.

“What?”

“I know what you are.”

“I'm not anything. I just like to play the Casio,” the man pleaded.

Sam nodded at Ed’s skull. “Had time to grow the ear back, huh?”

“What?!” He tried to turn around again.

“I said don’t fucking move,” you sneered.

Brewer froze again.

Sam tugged on Ed’s ear, but it wouldn’t budge. “It's supposed to come off.”

“No, it’s not!” he replied.

“You’re right,” you stated evenly. “I’m gonna walk away now. You don’t move until exactly two minutes after you hear the last of my footsteps, okay?”

“Okay, okay—”

You cut Ed off by pistol whipping him on the back of the head. He slumped to the floor, and you quickly rushed out of the room.

You caught Sam giving you strange looks, but you completely ignored them. “What did we miss, Sam?”

“Uh—”

“Sam! What did we miss?”

“Give me a second, (Y/N)!”

"We may not have ‘a second’!”

“The fuck are you in such a rush for?” he asked. 

“We don’t have time to talk about this, Sam,” you replied, voice becoming even again. “We gotta find this fucker, so I can—” you cut yourself off, nearly biting your tongue to avoid bringing up the angels and your “mission.” First and foremost, you were supposed to be keeping them safe. If you weren’t with Dean, you had no assurance that you were doing your job. 

“So you can what, (Y/N)?” Sam asked.

“I can’t tell you,” you answered sharply.

Thankfully, Sam just huffed and shook his head. 

****

When you got back to the bar, you strutted through the front doors that were surprisingly unlocked. As soon as you entered the bar, you felt uneasy. 

“Dean?” you called hesitantly. 

Sam just chuckled and took out his phone. “Dean, hey listen. Uh, Ed is not our guy. Um, I'm guessing you're at home with Jamie, so just give me a call, okay?”

While he left his voicemail, you walked over to the table Dean and Jamie had been sitting at. You stopped short at a broken bottle on the floor, and a napkin had a lipstick color on it you hadn’t seen Jamie wearing.

“Sam,” you said, feeling slightly choked.

He walked over to you and looked down at the napkin. “Lucy,” he murmured.

“Wait, Jamie’s friend?” you asked.

Sam nodded. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” you sighed heavily. 

****

Sam tracked Dean’s cell phone as you sped to the house the signal pinged at. As soon as the car was parked, you were sprinting up the stairs to the door of the house. Sam picked the lock, and you burst in, sneaking around with your gun drawn. 

You nodded for Sam to check upstairs while you went to check downstairs. Quietly, you slinked down the stairs with cat-like grace. Silently, you were hoping you’d be finding Jamie instead of Dean to avoid the awkward rescue scenario. 

Alas, your prayers were not answered. You entered the dark basement and saw a large, medieval looking torture device in the center of the room. Dean grunted while he tried to make it out of his chains, muttering the odd, “Dammit!” 

You lowered your gun as you rounded the device. “Dean?” You came to a stop in front of him, feeling everything in you wanting to run right out of the room.

“Get me outta here, would ya?” His tone was harsh.

You nodded obediently, wanting to avoid fighting with him as much as possible. It upset you that Dean could make the Lederhosen Dracula had dressed him in work. 

“Where’s Sam?” he asked.

You nodded at the stairs. 

“Silent treatment?” Dean scoffed. “Mature.”

“Stop, Dean, please,” you begged quietly. You hated that your voice came out as more of a whine than anything. Then, you rushed out of the room in an attempt to avoid any further conflict. 

When you heard a loud crash upstairs, you ran up the steps to the second floor. Dean followed close behind and burst into the room the scuffling sounds seemed to be coming from. 

Immediately, Dracula tackled Dean. “And you, Harker, now you die.” Dean choked out, “How 'bout now you shut the fuck up?”

With Dean trying to shield himself on the floor, you waited for Dracula to raise his sternum up enough for you to fire. Just as the monster was about to finish Dean off, you shot him once in the chest.

“Silver?” the monster said, seeming mystified. He looked up at you menacingly holding your gun. “It was beauty that killed the beast. No, Mina, do not weep.” He dramatically collapsed into a chair. “Perhaps this is how the movie should end.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, immediately turning on your heels to walk out of the room.

****

The next day, you slumped down in the back seat of the Impala while Dean and Jamie made out just outside the passenger’s side window. 

Faintly, you heard Jamie say, “Well, thank you, G-Man. You have been a great service to your country.” “Oh, yes, I'm very, very patriotic,” he responded flirtatiously.

You scoffed, pulling your gun out of the bag on the seat next to you to clean it. 

When the two brothers finally bid Jamie goodbye and got down into the car, Dean turned his eyes to you in the rearview mirror. “Jamie said to thank you.” He stared at you in the rearview mirror waiting for you to respond.

You never answered, and Dean just shook his head and started driving.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-nesmith @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[birbmotherpigeon]

HERMIT UNIVERSITY socmed

PART 7

Mumbo was doing his best to type and walk at the same time. He had gotten extremely bored when his arms started aching. He was carrying spare parts for Tangos robot to the workshop. His own little Grumbot was already waiting there. He picked up his speed when he entered the building. He was just a few steps away from his corrodior when a big bumbling man turned the corner and they crash into eachother.

Mumbo being a long lean thing fell like a puppet who's strings released on impact. The bigger man didn't seem to keep himself up much better. The bigger man landed on his bum, Mumbo landing face first in his lap.

"Woah there! you okay buddy?" The man asked from above Mumbo, who froze absolutely mortified. Slowly he turned around in the lap of the strange man looking straight up at the *Damn* at the very handsome man.

"Y-yeah I....I okay, Me, buddy is" He managed to get out. He was screaming at himself internally. This was the guy! The shirtless man form the other day. The guy with the cat who moved into Mumbos old dorm. Hadn't he been so mortified he would've wanted to say something to the very handsome young man. Instead he slowly rose to his feet. started to pick up his robotic pieces before he excused himself.

"I'm terribly sorry, I need to go" He said, He didn't even have the time to reflect over the other man's crutches. Nor his extremely confused expression as Mumbo rushed off.

Scar, the mystery handsome man in question, slowly got back on his feet. He saw a metallic mustache laying on the floor as he rose...He picked it up. Looked back one last time before shrugging and continuing his own way.

Gem sighed. She knew her friend was just being dramatic. As she arrives to the workshop so does Tango and Impulse.

"GEMSTONE! what you doing here?" Impulse calls to his roommate as he spots her. She smiles with a shrug.

"Mumbo had a mortifying wet cat moment" She explained and before anyone could say anything more Mumbo was already standing in the doorway to the workshop looking like said wet cat.

"Gem :(" he whined, she had to force down a laugh as to not laugh in her friends face. Tango was not so talented but he got a swift elbow in the side from Impulse.

"I couldn't even say I was okay!!" He whined sitting down with a deep sigh. "Why can't I just be silly with the dorm thing!! why do I have to be socially awkward too" He continued to vent his heart out. He did lose her though

"Excuse me? what? dorm thing?" She repeated, Mumbos face dropped again as he thought about it. He groaned annoyed.

"Yeah I forgot to sign up for a dorm" He explained exasperated

"Well where did you sleep this night?" Gem pressed

"Tango let me crash at their dorm. I'm gonna stay there until there's a vacancy" Mumbo continued his explanation. Gem felt a dread in her stomach

"Ooooh, Mumbo you can't do that they're gonna start doing impromptu dorm checks next week" She said as carefully as she could without freaking Mumbo out even more.

"WHAT" she shouted it hadn't helped. Gem walked up to the tall man. Impulse and Tango followed suit.

"Well yeah they're checking to make sure no one unwanted is at uni" She explained Mumbos shoulders dropped aswell now.

"I guess that makes sense but" He sighed not finishing his thoughts.

"Gem don't tell on us please" Impulse suddenly said, Gem must've had made some face that made him worry. She shaked her head

"Of course not!" She said, she would never rat out her friend.

"Good, and Mumbo we'll just always be ready to hide you until you have your own dorm. Can't be too hard" Tango finished in Impulse stead. Gem was tempted to argue but Mumbo seemed to be genuinely on the werge of tears if she'd say something more.

"Y-yeah!" She let out instead. "a-and if you need to duck out I guess you can always come over to the trout dorm" She added on before thinking properly, she glanced at Impulse who simply nodded. It did seem to help though, Mumbo seemed far less sad.

Previous Part:

Next Part:

[h3eb4e]

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 - l.hs

⌜ ⌝ ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ᴺᵒʷ ᵖˡᵃʸᶦⁿᵍ; [ All Mine ] - Plaza

1:07 ——◦———— -3:55↠

ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▯▯▯

tell me did you get the news? she ain't fuckin' with you no more, ooh.

𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙! 𝙝𝙨 𝙭 𝙖𝙛𝙖𝙗!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥, 𝙝𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙𝙣'𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙡, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙪𝙥, 𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙖𝙮.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - 𝙝𝙚 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙪𝙩 😭

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

"Heeseung...please pick me up..." You sobbed on the other line. How'd your date go? The quavering of your voice, the slight choked up words, the sniffles that kept coming out, well, that answered his question.

"Shit, where are you?" Heeseung asked getting up, already sliding his shoes on and looking for the car keys. "I-I'm outside the apartments near the restaurant-" You sniffled out. 

"Your outside?? Get inside, Y/N, it's warm in there, just wait for me, okay?" He told you while already driving to you. You quickly ran inside the restaurant, sitting down at the nearest chair. 

It only took about 5 minutes before Heeseung walked in with an extra jacket in his hand, he looked around and noticed you. He sighed in relief once he saw you, knowing that you were physically okay. 

Well, not really. Your eyes were puffy from crying, your nose red, your eyes glossy, tears stained your soft cheeks. "Come here..." He said softly, his arms open wide for you.

You got up, wrapping your arms around him, your head under his chin. He gently rubbed your back. He placed the coat around your shoulders, gently leading you out. "Come on, i'm parked right outside."

"I'll take you to my apartment since it's closer, and I don't want you to be alone tonight." He said as he drove through the city lights. You nodded, leaning your head against the window.

He pulled up to his apartment, quickly getting out of the car to open the door for you. It was the middle of the night, the air was chilly. He led you into the familiar surrounding, some soda cans sitting around, a few takeout boxes, a sweatshirt laying around.

He quickly grabbed the trash. "Sorry, if I knew you were going to come I would've cleaned up-" He panicked a bit. "Heeseung, don't worry...i've seen you do worse, this is nothing." You managed to smile. "I know but- your a woman, it's natural for me." He said walking over to the trash.

You smiled a bit as you sat down on his couch, he came back with a glass of water. "Here." He handed it to you as he sat down beside you. "Thank you..." You mumbled softly as you took a drink.

He looked down at the glass for a moment before speaking. "What happened...? I-I mean, don't tell me if you don't want-" He panicked again, then you cut him off. "It's okay, Heeseung." You giggled. "We had an argument again." Your smile died away, your giggles stolen.

"He said I didn't put enough effort in for tonight, and that my outfit looks lazy and dirty-" You could have kept going but Heeseung stopped you. "Wait wait wait- he said that? Are you serious?" He turned to face you, a raised brow and genuinely confused look on his face.

You slowly nodded in confirmation. He couldn't believe it, not one bit. "And you believed him?" Heeseung asked, not understanding how or why someone could say that about you. "I mean, yeah. He doesn't shut up about it." You sighed, falling back deeply against the couch.

Heeseung scooted closer to you. "Why do you stay with him if he brings you down everyday?" He asked softly, cautiously. "l just wanted to feel loved by someone." You whispered, looking away. 

Silence filled the room before you felt soft fingers touching your chin. "Please don't turn your pretty face away from me." He whispered softly. "He's not good for you, he's a boy. There's men out there that would kiss the ground you walk on." He said, his voice still soft.

You didn't say anything, just looked at him. "Let me show you there's other men out there that can treat you like the queen you deserve to be." He staired into your eyes, not feeling any need to look away.

"Okay." You gave in after a few moments, and that's when Heeseung leaned in, so close his breath was condescending your skin, and time seemed to slow as your lips met his.

The only thing you could hear was his lips moving against your own, he tilted his head slightly for more access. His hands softly roamed your body. His lips moved from yours, down to your neck. His fingers found the zipper of your dress. He pulled back. "Can I...?" He waited for your consent before moving any further.

You nodded while gulping, your body shaking slightly. "Don't be nervous..." He mumbled gently against the skin of your neck. He slowly zipped your dress down, his fingers softly pulling it off your shoulders, leaving it pooled around your waist. 

"How could he not see..." His voice was muffled with his lips still on your skin. "How beautiful you are." He kissed between your breasts. "I'll pay attention everyday, i'll tell you your beautiful everyday, i'll appreciate your cooking, and how you dress up for me, wear that perfume I love so much..." He kept going as his kisses kept going to.

His lips found the edge of your panties, he looked up at you, asking that same question. You responded with a nod. His fingers hooked under the soft band, pulling it down your legs. "He's so fucking stupid...if you could see yourself...if you could see yourself through my eyes..." He through your panties off to the side, using his hands to gently pry your legs open. "You would never want to look away..." 

He placed a gentle kiss on your clit, looking up to see your reaction. He used his tongue, dragging the muscle from your opening to your clit. "You taste so good, why are all these boys so negative towards you? Is it because they didn't get to taste your pretty pussy yet?" He asked then went right back to it.

He alternated between licking and sucking, it was messy, sloppy, but so so good. If heaven on earth was a real thing, you'd compare it to Heeseung eating you out. He pulled his mouth back, using his index and middle finger to spread your lips. "Prettiest fucking pussy..." He let a ball of spit fall from his lips, making it fall directly onto your clit. 

Your hips jolted as it ran down, but he quickly caught it up with his tongue, spreading it all over. "Taste so good...fuck." He groaned, making you moan softly at the sensation. You gripped his hair tightly, making Heeseung moan against you. "Mhmm...mmmmhh..." He kept letting out as his lips moved against you.

"H-hee...-" You moaned out. He made slurping sounds, you could feel him swallowing. He looked up at you between your legs, your shaking legs. "I-I...ngh-" You couldn't even get your sentence out, to overwhelmed by pleasure. 

"It's okay baby, let go f'me..." He pulled back to speak, just to kiss your clit again, licking you all over. The coil in your belly snapped, and you couldn't even feel your own hands, it all happened so quickly, but still felt like everything was in slow motion. It was amazing.

"Pretty baby...there we go..." He kissed your thighs, trying to calm you down. You looked down at him. "W-what about you...?"

"Don't worry about me, this was about you, remember?" He smiled, his lips and chin wet with your release. You both slept in each others arms, your phone started buzzing nonstop. Heeseung groaned quietly, grabbing your phone, seeing it was him texting you.

"Call me back NOW." Texts like this kept piling up. "Come back home baby...i miss you..." Another one said.

Heeseung chuckled, texting him back. "did u get the news? she's not fucking with u more." He put the phone down, the rest of the night a quiet rest.

[ivystoryweaver]

Cosmic - Poe Dameron

Episode 4: It Came From Outer Space previous

Cosmic Masterlist | Poe Dameron Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Poe Dameron x gn!reader

Summary: Quality time and a day at the fall festival with Poe, who doesn't really get the point of a ferris wheel. Oh and your ex is there.

Content/Notes: fluff, tw food, language

Word Count: 3.2k

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

"That everything?" Poe asked, securing the final basket in the back of your truck. Heaps of fresh organic produce, homemade jellies, herbs and eggs from your chickens were loaded and ready for your little farm's booth at the fair.

The warmish weather had finally eased into a crisp, cool morning, invigorating your fall spirit and giving you a boost of energy needed to peddle your wares.

Poe, dressed in his boots, jeans and a flannel button up of your dads - a dark green and navy plaid over a white t-shirt - gazed at you expectantly, hands on his hips.

"I think so," you answered, granting him a bright smile. "Thank you so much for doing this. It would have been a lot with Chester away in New Jersey. I've never done it by myself." Your thoughts briefly drifted to your father. This was only your second year without him at the festival.

"Glad I can help," he grinned, pushing a hand through his curls.

Since you'd bought him hair products and toiletries, he'd attempted new styles with gel and hairspray, usually preferring his hair off his face. Today it seemed he didn't bother, remarking how his hair had grown longer than ever, and beyond his control.

You offered to cut it for him soon, after the festival was behind you.

Right then, your cat Cheddar darted out of the barn, with Marigold and Kit Kat hot on his trail. Your three barn cats had added themselves to the long list of animals who instantly loved Poe. Cheddar had almost convinced the both of you that he was truly a house cat who needed to sleep in Poe's room at night, rather than out in the barn with his siblings. Almost.

Curling around Poe's legs adoringly, Cheddar meowed, waiting for attention, which Poe was more than willing to give.

"Heyyyy, little buddy, came to say goodbye? Don't worry, I'll be back."

Kneeling down, he granted some attention to Marigold, while Kit Kat hissed in jealous protest.

"All right, you guys, go back to catching things. We have to go." You playfully rubbed each of their heads before gently shooing them away.

It was then that you noticed Poe eyeing you with about as much fondness as Cheddar had displayed. It caught you off guard for a moment, until he held up the truck's key and dangled it in front of you.

"Can I drive?"

"Give me those," you laughed, yanking them out of his hand and bumping shoulders with him as you headed for the driver's side.

"Come onnn, please," he whined, following you closely.

You reached for the truck's door, but he pushed his arm up against it to stop you, trapping you there against the side of the truck, with his arm caging you in. Noticing how close your bodies were, he lowered his arm slowly, licking his lips as your eyes locked with his.

"Sorry." He backed away to give you some space, noticing how your breath stuttered and your eyelashes fluttered. "I'm the best pilot in our fleet, I swear. I can definitely handle a truck."

"Wow," you whistled, pulling open the truck door finally, but Poe noticed you still had a playful glint in your eye. "You actually insulted my truck while bragging. Well done. Passenger's seat for you."

He groaned, but complied, leaving it alone while you cranked the truck and backed it away from the house. Stopping at the end of your long driveway, you peered over at him.

"I know you can drive my truck. It took you like half a day to get what usually takes us regular people a few months to learn. It's just that you don't have a license and we cannot have any questions asked about who you are and where you're from. You understand, right?"

Poe swallowed, nodding, noting how serious you were. "Sorry. I just thought it would be fun. I didn't realize..."

"It's okay," you smiled warmly. "I just...I get nervous thinking about if someone found out. I mean, Poe, to think of what could happen to you..."

"Is it really that dangerous here? In the United States?" He asked, as you eased onto the main road and started driving.

"It could be. It really could. We are in a kind of war right now. A cold war. No one's firing, but it's tense. And if they find out you're from space, they'll never let you go. We have to keep it a secret no matter what. Let's go over our cover story again."

So you spent the drive into town reviewing the story you'd concocted. Poe had come to work on your farm temporarily, as a replacement for Chester, who was with his ill mom in New Jersey. Simple enough. For now, the story would be that Chester gave a friend of a friend-type recommendation. You would loop Chester in on the plan ASAP, when he wasn't preoccupied with helping his mom.

Poe would be called Joe, which sounded a little more run-of-the-mill Earthy, and would be from Florida. The next step was to somehow get him some convincing documents without drawing attention from the wrong people.

This story should be easy enough to maintain. If someone were to question you about Poe's past, you could simply claim to not know, since you truly met him so recently.

Something heavy settled in your stomach as you drove toward the first public outing with this man who fell to earth.

"Look, I'm sorry about the driving thing," he offered, once you'd double checked your story together. "I know we have to be careful. I promise I won't get you in any trouble."

Glancing over at him, you realized this must all be frightening to him, or at least alarming. "It's okay. You must be bored out of your mind on the farm." Pulling into a parking space in the grassy field outside the fair's entrance, you turned to face him. "You don't have to stay in the booth with me all day. You should ride some rides. They're fast. Probably not as fast as an X-wing, but...could be fun."

"Okay. Only if you ride with me."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

To absolutely no one's surprise, Poe was a perfect addition to your booth. Chester was a great help when he was around, but he was more of a behind the scenes worker.

Poe was a people person, charming customers, introducing himself as Joe, as instructed, and making them feel at ease. With the way he was able to add a dozen farm fresh eggs or a jar of your jelly to each order, you were certain he could probably persuade anyone to do anything.

"You know, maybe I should go ride rides, since you've almost sold all the eggs before lunch," you teased during the briefest lull in customers.

Dark eyes went wide until he realized you were messing with him. "Oh...I thought I was doing it wrong for a second."

"No, please. The sooner we sell out, the sooner we can pack up and the less we have to carry home. Be my guest," you grinned, folding your arms over your chest. "Exactly how many dangerous situations have you charmed your way out of?"

Poe laughed, pushing his fingers through his curls again. "Way too many, Trix. You have no idea."

"Oh shit," you whispered, ducking behind the corner of your booth, frantically waving Poe over to join you.

"What's wrong?" He whispered, conspiratorially huddling with you. "Is it someone from the government?"

Shit, you probably scared him. "No. Sorry, no, it's just my ex."

He gazed into your eyes. "Your ex...boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

"Ex asshole," you failed to clarify, groaning as you realized it was too late. You'd been spotted.

"Heyyyy, it's my favorite organic farmer," your ex boomed, embarrassingly loudly, as he was often prone to do. At one time, you had adored his exuberance and bold personality.

"Hey there," Poe interjected, "what can I help you find today? We have homemade jelly."

Your ex made a sour face at you and hitched his thumb at your new, shorter friend. "Who's this guy?"

"Joe," Poe responded, thrusting his hand between you and your ex for a handshake. "Just started at the farm a few weeks ago, while Chester's away. So what can we get you?"

Ignoring Poe, your ex stared at you, waiting for your attention. Fighting a smile, you returned his rudeness and instead turned to Poe. "I think you've got this covered, so I'm gonna unbox a few more things."

"Take your time. We're good here." Poe sent you off with a wink.

Your heart raced as you darted around the side of your tent, so thankful for the embarrassing situation that didn't just happen. It wasn't that you couldn't take care of yourself, or handle your ex. Hell, you were the one who dumped him. You simply weren't in the mood for his loud mouth and embarrassing antics, especially if he tried to give Poe the third degree for simply existing in the same space as you.

Wondering, for a second, if you felt managed by Poe, or dismissed, you sighed in relief, realizing that his reaction was spot on, and just what you needed. He minimized someone who loved to make everything about himself. He kept the focus on your booth and your products, allowing you to get to tasks that needed your attention.

To be seen and understood so effortlessly felt really good.

Another hour passed before the two of you took a break for lunch, closing your booth for about twenty minutes to sit near the back and munch on some ridiculously fried fair food you insisted Poe try.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

By mid afternoon, you'd sold out of everything except a few greens, but Poe was determined, continuing to sell while you started packing up.

As the sun set, your booth was empty and cleared, leaving the two of you free to enjoy the festivities.

"Thank you so much for today," you sweetly said, bumping shoulders as you walked along rows of various carnival style games. "This is the most successful year I've ever had."

"Happy to help," He smiled over at you, "with getting rid of produce...or ex-boyfriends."

"Oh my god, I'm sorry about that," you chuckled. "I appreciate it though. I was not in the mood to talk to him, believe me."

Poe focused his eyes ahead, enjoying the music drifting through the air, the smell of what you called popcorn and brightly colored balloons. "I thought it would be good practice for getting rid of unwanted attention," he shrugged. Waiting a bit, he added, "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

You let out a long sigh, prompting Poe to say, "sorry."

"No, it's okay," you assured him. "We had some good times. He helped out, you know...when my father got sick. But I found out he was going to propose. And then I found out why he wanted to propose."

Poe groaned, "Don't say he wanted your farm."

"Bingo," you remarked, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. "I mean, really, is this 1881 or 1981? He was after my land?"

"I guess there are worse reasons to marry. But I see your point," Poe conceded. "Was he good to you?" He flinched. "Is that okay to ask?"

"He was until he wasn't," you confessed. "Kind of ruined the whole, benevolent 'help my father' thing when I caught him with another woman."

Poe whistled. "Okay, now I have to kick his ass."

That made you laugh. "He's not worth it. Come on, let's ride the ferris wheel."

Less that ten minutes later, you and Poe sat side-by-side in the bucket seat...of the world's slowest ride, apparently.

"What does this thing do?" he questioned. "It's really slow. And goes in a circle. Is that fun in Iowa?"

You burst out laughing, swatting him on the arm. "It's peaceful and kind of magical because it goes up high and you can see the town." You explained this as your gondola climbed to the ferris wheel's highest point.

Poe nodded, taking a moment to enjoy the highest vantage point he'd seen in weeks, since his ship crashed here. Normally, he was used to being up in the air on a daily basis, so this was nothing too special. Until he glanced over and noticed your eyes shining as you gazed out across the festival and surrounding, rural fields.

Peering over the edge, you remarked how high up you were, bouncing with excitement before looking back at Poe, eyes bright and filled with wonder.

"You're right about the view," he said softly, eyes never leaving your face as the ferris wheel slowly brought you back down to earth.

Next you dragged him to a mini roller coaster, promising it would go at least somewhat faster. Hands gripping the safety rails, you squealed in delight as Poe grinned, enjoying the ride almost as much as he loved riding full speed on your horse Annabelle a week ago.

"I'll take you flying someday. Somehow," he promised. You appreciated the gesture, but your heart burned at the faraway look in his eyes. It sobered you to remember, again, that he needed to find a way to get out of here eventually.

"I'll probably embarrass myself and scream or get sick, but I would love to see you in action."

As soon as the words left your mouth, your face heated up. And he noticed.

Leaning closer his eyes dropped to your lips before he smiled knowingly, nodding behind you. "You want to see me in action, let's go."

Brushing past you, he left you a bit speechless until you realized he intended to play a shooting game. With perfect precision, he used rubber darts and a plastic gun to take aim at, and perfectly eliminate yellow duckies in a row, earning some oohs and ahhs from interested onlookers, and the game's attendant.

"Best shootin' I've seen all day, son. Pick a prize from the top row there." The older gentleman pointed up to the row of ridiculously oversized stuffed animals.

Poe grinned at you. "Which one?"

"You won it," you giggled. "You pick."

He chose a gigantic plush lizard.

"For you." He presented it with a dramatic flare.

"Wowww, this is...this is really something. Thank you." You laughed in spite of the weird but oddly cute offering.

"Well you have lots of animals at home, so I thought you might like something different," he explained as you headed for the cotton candy tent. "Besides, all the animals here are really...hairy." He squeezed the giant lizard. "This guy looks more like my galaxy."

"I love it then," you decided. "What should we call him?"

"Toe Dameron," he teased, a twinkle in his brown eyes. "That way, you'll think of me when you hug him."

For the first time in a while, you enjoyed a good belly laugh. "I don't need a giant lizard named Toe to think about you, but okay."

Poe carried Toe Dameron around while you bought some cotton candy, which intrigued him immensely. He gobbled it up quickly, which let both of you know he was actually hungry. So next up was the pizza stand, of which Poe was definitely a fan, polishing off three slices while you sat at a small table with Toe Dameron on the ground beside you.

"A picture for the lovely couple?" A photographer asked, appearing beside your table, with his camera at the ready.

"Uhh, not a couple, and no, actually, it's okay." You waved him off. Digging into your pocket, you gave him a small tip. "Thanks anyway."

"What was that?" Poe asked through a mouthful of pizza.

"Nothing, he just wanted to take our picture - like the ones in my hall, you know? A photograph?"

Poe nodded, polishing off his meal.

"But, even though I would love to have a picture with you, I just think it could be dangerous. Better to keep a low profile."

"Right, good thinking." Glancing around, the idea that he was an unwelcome guest on planet Earth seemed to sober him. "You're sure it's safe to be here?"

"Yes, it's fine," you assured him.

Hoping to cheer him up, you took him to a very spinny, very fast ride that he loved. But as soon as it ended, you both realized what a terrible idea it was to ride the spinning ride after eating a ton of pizza.

"Ready to go?"

Poe was gazing past you again, as he'd been doing all day, his interest piqued by every different or similar thing to his home galaxy.

This time, his ears perked up at the sound of live music and his eyes gazed at couples dancing on a makeshift dance floor.

"Come on," he urged, taking you by the hand. "Dance with me."

"Oh...okay," you smiled at his exuberance. Poe was so full of life, so interested in every little thing.

Swallowing down any trepidation you felt about making a fool of yourself on the dance floor, you eased into an embrace with him, swaying to a medium tempo song, getting used to the feel of one another.

The song cadenced and the beat kicked off a lively tune, which delighted Poe. He took the lead, guiding you through steps that were probably not of this world, but seemed to make sense. He certainly had a good sense of rhythm and was no stranger to dancing.

You slightly stumbled once, but he steadied you with his palm spread across your back. "Just follow me, I've got you." He smiled brilliantly, giving you a twirl and guiding you around to his opposite side, before somehow doing the same thing in reverse. You weren't sure how he managed it, but it was fun and you found yourself laughing and relaxing all the way through the end of the song.

The music slowed into a couples' dance, so you stepped back to give Poe an out, but he held out his hand. "One more?"

You smiled sweetly at him in spite of yourself, taking his hand as he pulled you close, somehow still keeping time even with the slow tempo.

"Is this okay?" He breathed against your cheek, arm cinching you closer even as he asked permission.

"Yeah...it's okay. You're a good dancer," you breathlessly whispered on his ear. "Which isn't surprising. You're good at everything."

"Thank you," he granted you a sincere reply, which you appreciated. "We danced a lot growing up. Not exactly like this but...anyway."

Easing back, you gazed at him questioningly. "What is it?"

He gently smiled, eyes fixing on yours. "Nothing. I just...I haven't had a day like this in years. A day off, to have fun and dance and eat and laugh." He sighed, peering up at the night sky. "I think this is one of the best days I've ever had."

"Really?" You gasped, surprised and touched, honestly.

"Yeah," he nodded, eyes finding yours again. "Really. I think maybe Iowa is a special place."

That made you laugh.

"Or maybe it's because you're here." His arms wrapped all the way around you now, palm pressing along the curve of your back.

You reached up to push a stray curl out of his eyes. "Bet you say that on every planet you land on."

"Maybe, maybe not. But there's definitely only one Trix."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

thanks to @silvernight-m for the names-that-rhyme-with-Poe exchange and @reallyrallyauthor for pointing out that many animals in Star Wars world are reptilian

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Follow @ivystoryupdates and turn on notifications to never miss an update

Cosmic Masterlist | Poe Dameron Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Join my tag list

[magical-regical]

Hot take:

I wouldn't mind too much if Caleb wasn't a dateable character. I know the game description says he's a 'childhood friend' and him and the MC being 'taken in' by grandma was probably like, in an orphanage way not an adoption way.

But hear me out. The sibling dynamic between these two. They're the siblings who are

"You are 100% my ride or die, I would walk through hellfire for you." but also "no officer I've never seen this person in my life."

Also I want to see protective nii-san Caleb just staring down Xavier and Rafayel because,

"what makes you think you're good enough to date my sister—"

To Xavier: "—you can't cook, you sleep like a koala, and you have a tendency to disappear under mysterious circumstances."

To Rafayel: "—you're literally a fish."

and giving Zayne SO much shit for taking so long to admit his feelings for MC.

[your-internet-bf]

It's been a while since you've seen a doctor, and you're nervous as you follow the nurse back to my office. What's there to be nervous about, this is just a little checkup, right? You notice the nurse's manicured burgundy nails as she knocks sharply on the door. She turns to you, smiling prettily, and says, "the doctor will see you now."

You push open the door and enter quite a large room. The nurse follows, closing the door behind you. In the center is the examination table, off to the right is a small crowd of young adults, appearing to be made up of men and women, and on the left is me, seated at my desk. "Welcome," I say, standing and extending one hand. My voice is deep, warm, and smooth, and you fumble for a moment, blushing a little, before you remember to shake my hand. Your hand is dwarfed in mine, my strong fingers encircling you, and a thought flashes unbidden through your mind - what would those fingers feel like inside you? - but, come on now, that's really not appropriate...

"I have a few students with me, as you can see. Is that alright?"

"Well, yes, of course!" Why shouldn't it be?

"Excellent. Now, I'm pioneering this new full-body examination method - it's really quite extraordinary, the maladies I can detect this way - but be warned, it is, shall we say, unorthodox. Is that alright?"

Just for a moment, you see something in my eyes, something behind the genial smile and gentle, reassuring tone. Just for a moment, you feel like some specimen, some piece of meat, pinned down under the lights with nowhere to go... but just for a moment. Surely, nothing bad can happen, and I'm a doctor, aren't I? You can trust me. So you swallow your fear, and you acquiesce.

"Excellent! Let's have a seat on the table, if you don't mind, and we'll make a start. Nurse V, if you would..."

As you sit on the table, the clinical, sterile seating a little cold against your skin, the pretty nurse steps behind the table, facing you, waiting for something. From your right, I approach, and you feel again just how much larger than you I am as my broad shoulders block out one of the ceiling lights. With all these people watching you, it takes all you have not to squeeze your legs together, just a little bit.

We begin with a quick examination of your face - "you have beautiful eyes, you know," I purr into one ear. I place one hand on the side of your neck and tilt your head; god, you've been reading too much, haven't you, the way you want these strong, expert fingers to close around your throat.

"Now, open your mouth for me, please." You oblige, and I cup your chin and slide my thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. Your eyebrows jump in surprise, and you look at me questioningly.

I smile again, still inside you. "Unorthodox, remember? Now, close your mouth and try to swallow." From behind, the nurse strokes your cheek with the back of one hand, and you feel a sudden ache between your legs. You close your lips around my thumb and swallow. It tastes... clean, mostly, as one might expect from a doctor, but you can taste the sweat underneath.

"Very good, one more time for me."

You swallow again, and you feel me slide my thumb over the surface of your tongue, pressing down, swirling in circles.

"And, one more time... yes, that's it, good job, very good job."

The praise for this degrading task is more than you can bear, and you squeeze your thighs together. Fuck, it's humiliating, everyone just saw you do that... All these eyes on you, the beautiful nurse behind you, this big, strong doctor with these big, strong hands and that big fucking bulge... but no, this is just a checkup, nothing is going to happen, right?

While you were thinking, I dried my hand off and had begun speaking.

"I'm - I'm sorry?"

"No worries. I was saying, can you remove your top, please? We need to examine your heart and your breathing."

You stare at me. "Remove my - "

"Yes, remove your top. The fewer barriers between me and you, the less interference with my examination." My face is quite serious, almost bored - this really must be routine. You look back at the nurse, and she smiles slightly and nods. So you undress, your nipples betraying you, standing at attention. You blush as the crowd of students looks at you intently. The nurse lays one warm hand on your shoulder, slender fingers gripping you reassuringly, and your eyes are drawn once more to those burgundy nails.

I step in close, and you feel my breath warm on your chest. "Now, observe the stiffness in the patient's nipples - this is to be expected, given the cool air, and it's certainly nothing to be ashamed of," I say, smiling. I press my stethoscope up over your heart, the metal cold on your skin, and your mind is betrayed by the pounding of your heart. My eyes flick up to meet yours, and I grin, predatorily, and once again you feel like a piece of meat beneath the lights.

I examine your breasts, starting with your left. Enclosed in my big, strong hands, I squeeze and push, prod and pull, ostensibly feeling for any abnormalities, but the way my fingers brush over your nipples, the intensity with which I sink them into your soft breasts, heaving now as your breath comes faster... My practiced tongue rasps over one nipple and a tiny moan escapes your lips as you try desperately to hide how much you're enjoying this; try desperately, and fail.

Abruptly, I pull back. "Excellent! All seems well here." I rest one hand on your other shoulder and turn to the students. "Note the pleasure response during this section of the examination, and I hope you were paying attention to the oral technique."

I turn back to you, my eyes dancing as they meet yours. "Fully undress, if you would. The inspection must continue."

Your hands tremble as you slide your clothes down off your waist, and the nurse aids you, her lovely hands stroking along your thighs and calves as she does.

"And spread for us, please."

Obediently, your thighs open, exposing your cunt, your needy, aching wetness, to all.

"Note the beauty of the patient's sex, here. The shape of the folds," I murmur, tracing one finger along your sensitive lips, "the balanced ratio of the clitoris to the vulva overall," sliding two fingers on either side of your clit, squeezing gently between them, "the appropriate pleasure response in - "

You lose what I say as I plunge two fingers inside you, powerful and dextrous, knuckles slipping past your tightness easily. It feels so fucking good to finally have something inside you, after all this aching and teasing, and god, so many people are watching, they're all watching your pussy spread and toyed with by this big, strong, handsome older man, and now the nurse's slender fingers are across your throat and her lips are on your forehead, and she tells you that you're doing so well for me, you've been so good...

My fingers press up inside you, finding your g spot, and with my thumb rubbing on your clit, I start melting you. Waves of pleasure course through your body, you gasp, moan, whimper, and with your eyes closed you can't tell whose lips are so soft on yours, but it feels so fucking good, and all those people are watching and it makes you want it more, your back arching, chest heaving, melting under the attention, and finally, mercifully, you cum, contracting around my fingers, squeezing your thighs together, trembling, shaking, gasping for air. You hear me say something, but you're so overwhelmed with pleasure that all you can make out from my speech is "very, very good".

The hand withdraws from your throat, and I gently, gently, extricate my fingers, and settle my hand atop one thigh, fingers slick with your desire.

The nurse whispers affirmation in your ear as I address the class. "Stimulation in this manner, of the two most sensitive sex stimuli, brings the most consistent and powerful orgasms to those possessing these organs." I stroke the inside of your thigh reassuringly, before turning to you.

"The final part of this examination is seeing how well you handle penetration. I'm going to need your unequivocal verbal consent before proceeding."

The nurse leans in and whispers into your ear, "might I suggest 'please, sir, will you fuck me?'" You'd blush harder if you could.

You swallow, nervously, and there's a twisting in your gut as you say it. "Please," you begin, voice cracking. "Please, sir, will you fuck me?"

"Yes, that is sufficient. I must say, though," I warn, unzipping my jeans, "that I am quite large." I slap my cock down on your tummy, and the sheer weight of it shocks you. You've seen size like this in porn, sure, but fuck, you've never touched something like this. When you tear your gaze away from my cock, I'm grinning down at you, predatory again. "You can back out at any time, you know." My voice is low, teasing, challenging. "Should we continue?"

You nod shakily, and spread your legs a little wider.

One hand on your raised knee, one hand guiding my cock, I push against you. For a moment you realize the exam had to be done in this order; if you weren't so fucking wet, there's no chance you'd be able to take me. But all thoughts are blasted out of your mind as I push harder and slide in.

It's so fucking thick that you can't help but groan. You've never felt so full, so strained inside, being pushed in every direction; you're not built for this, maybe there's just too much, your body is rejecting me - and then I push again, another few inches, and you slam your head back against the padded table, a long, drawn-out "fuuuuuck" wrenched from your lips. You feel my strong hands brace at your hips, and with a final thrust, slamming your cervix up into your guts, moving your entire body, the ridges of my cock sliding deeper and deeper, sliding painfully, pleasurably past your walls, I'm inside you.

The nurse rests her hands on you again, and purrs in your ear, "you're doing so well for him, I know it's hard, it's so hard, but you're doing such a good job, pretty girl..."

Glacially, I pull out, allowing you a moment to rest, before thrusting in again, hands still at your waist. You sob once, loudly, and then you sink into it as I pick up a rhythm, deep, deep strokes inside you. You hear me grunting, whispering something, and I grow more frantic, impaling you a little harder, and through the wall of pleasure you hear me rumble, "nurse V, begin the overstimulation procedure."

"Certainly, doctor." She leans over you, lips fiercely meeting yours, and one of those slender hands reaches down to abuse your clit. An image of those burgundy nails on your cunt flashes through your mind as I continue pounding you, forcing you to spread for me, adjust to me, even as the nurse plays your clit like an instrument, and fuck, she's a virtuoso.

You sing a song of moans and voiceless curses under our combined mastery, knowing your audience is entranced, filled with a blazing, lusty pride. The deep bass of my voice, resonant in your skull, is saying something, but you cannot hear me; you're moaning, groaning, pleading, "yes, yes, oh my god yes" over and over...

The song swells to a crescendo and with two sudden strikes, two powerful thrusts into you, it ends with a thick, hot, sticky white wave of my approval inside you. You feel it pulse deep, deep inside, filling you, load after load delivered straight past your bruised, abused cervix.

You come back to reality with my cum spilling from between your legs, trailing thickly down onto the exam table. I zip up my jeans while the nurse helps dry you off, from all the sweat and saliva. She dabs caringly at your mouth, and you notice that the cloth is dyed the same shade as her lipstick.

"Now," I address the class, "I hope you were paying attention." I rest one hand on your aching, trembling thigh. How many times did you cum with me inside you? How long were all these people watching you writhe beneath me, begging, losing yourself in the pleasure? You have no fucking clue. "This patient has bravely volunteered for each of you to examine her, here and now, while she's available to us."

Your jaw drops. When did you agree to that? You would never - but you were begging, "yes, yes, yes" earlier, weren't you, while I was talking. You agreed. Everyone heard you say it.

"One at a time, please. And," I say to you, grinning wolfishly, "don't worry. I'll be watching the entire time."

[charmedimsure]

Hello! Can I order a Dae Ho one-shot? about the reader who comes to the game pregnant and meets Dae Ho there and they have some kind of connection and he tells her that when they get out of there he would like to be with her and the baby.

thank you and happy new year <3

*slams bell* ORDER UP! (im sorry that was so cringey)

THE THREE OF US || kang dae-ho

pairing: Kang Dae-ho x f!reader

summary: Trying to make it out of the games with both you and your baby's lives, you meet a man who is determined to help.

word count: 6.3k (i did not expect it to be this long thats what she said)

warnings: pregnancy, guns, death, blood, squid game stuff

A/N: i love jun-hee, but the reader replaces her in this fic. reader has no connection to myung-gi (333). if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

Part 2: After the Games

The second game is about to start, and time is running out for you to find a team. You've approached a few groups, but have been turned away by all of them. Turns out most groups don't want women on their team.

Out of the corner of your eye you spot the man who had won these games before, along with the man who beat up those other players the day before. Figuring you might as well take a shot, you approach them.

Just as you get to them, a handsome man comes running over, pulling a player along behind him. "Sir! I got someone! He'll definitely risk his life to win."

The man he brought salutes the others. "Victory at all costs!"

The shorter man in the group, player 390, smiles and salutes back. "Hey, were you in the Marines?"

"Class 946, sir!"

Player 390 laughs. "Boy, with three ex-Marines, we'll be invincible." He turns to players 001 and 456. "What do you think? I like him."

Great, you think to yourself. Now they get to pick between an ex-Marine and a woman who can barely stand for more than 20 minutes at a time. Still though, this is a good team, and you'll be damned if you don't at least try.

"Excuse me," you say, getting the group's attention. "Please let me join your team."

Player 390 speaks up. "Sorry, we've already got five people."

Fuck it. Time to pull out the big guns.

"Please help me," you plead, leaning back a bit and putting your hand up to your swollen belly. "I'm pregnant."

All five men grow silent as they look down to your stomach.

<>

"Time for team selection is up."

You can feel the stares of your new team on you as the second game is announced. You just look forward, trying to listen to voice.

"The game you will be playing is Six-Legged Pentathlon. You will start with your legs tied together. Each player will take turns playing a mini-game at every ten-meter mark, and if you win, the team can move on to the next one. Here are the mini games. Number one, Ddakji. Number two, Flying Stone. Number three, Gong-gi. Number four, Spinning Top. Number five, Jegi. Your goal is to win all the mini-games and cross the finish line in five minutes. Please decide players for each mini-game."

Player 390 turns to his friend. "It's good that we got a woman." He turns to you. "You can play Gong-gi, right?"

You give him a sorry look as you shake your head.

His smile falters. "Don't girls play Gong-gi anymore?"

You look down at the sand. "I've played it, but I was never good at it."

You can see the disappointment on his face as he nods.

Player 388 takes a deep breath as he turns toward 390. "Actually, I can play Gong-gi."

390 gives him a confused look. "You? And ex-Marine?"

You give 390 a weird look. Is it really that hard to believe that a military man has played a kid's game before?

388 gets embarrassed. "I grew up with four older sisters. I used to play it with them from time to time."

You smile, thinking it's sweet that he used to play games with his sisters.

390 claps him on the back. "That's right. There's nothing a Marine can't do."

Player 456 leans forward to look at all of you. "Everyone else, what game are you confident playing?"

You take a deep breath. Jegi was the game you were best at growing up, but you don't think you'll be able to play it in your condition. You lean forward as well. "I can play Ddakji. At the subway station I flipped the guy's on my first try."

390 nods. "Okay. Miss 222, you can play Ddakji. I'll play Flying Stone. I was a pitcher for my baseball team. I'm good at throwing."

As 456 and 001 decide who will play Jegi and who will play Spinning Top, 388 turns to you.

"Did you really beat him on the first try? It took me at least eight."

You breathe out a laugh and give him a small smile. "Yeah. I probably could have paid off my debt if he had let us keep playing." Your smile falters as you rest your hand on your swollen stomach. "It would have been safer for the baby."

388 frowns sympathetically and scoots a bit towards you. "We will get out of here. And after that, we will go home. You and your baby will be safe."

Although you don't completely believe him, you still give him a smile and thank him for his kind words.

You feel movement in your stomach and let out a small yelp at the unexpected feeling, looking down towards your hand.

"Are you alright? What happened?" 388 asks, concern clear on his face.

With a smile, you lift your head to look at him and the others who have directed their attention to you. "I felt the baby kick."

Player 388 breaks out into a smile as he looks to your belly, seemingly fascinated by what is happening inside of you.

Player 001 lets out a loud laugh. "The baby wants to play Jegi."

You let out a chuckle as the men laugh. You made a good choice asking these players for help.

"All right guys, bring your hands together," 390 says, sticking his hand out in front of him. "All together now."

You need to scoot over a bit, but you put your hand on the pile on top of 388's, who gives you a shy smile.

"On three, we go, 'Victory at all costs.' One, two, three..."

"Victory at all costs!"

<>

The walls open and forklifts are brought in holding boxes with pink bows on top. You watch as the bodies of both teams are separated from each other and placed into each box. One team had made it past the fourth mini-game, while the other had only just finished the second. Both teams were executed.

The bodies are eventually cleared out, but the blood remains on the track. The second team lines up and you recognize the sweet old lady who had given you her egg this morning, as well as her son. Shit, you really hope they make it.

The gun fires and they're off. The first girl, player 095, looks so nervous I'm worried she won't be able to throw the Ddakji. Her first three attempts fail, and she looks as though she won't be able to continue. Player 120 whispers something to her and she nods. She picks up the Ddakji, turns in over in her hand, and smacks it to the floor. Success.

The group celebrates as they move on, and you make a mental note of that little trick for when it's your turn.

Next is player 007, the son. He throws the stone and misses. Instead of panicking like the past groups, they quickly grab the stone and move backwards to the line, saving lots of time. As 007 is preparing to throw the stone again, his mother whispers something to him. A look of anger washes over his face.

"That asshole ruined my fucking life!"

A perfect hit. The entire crowd cheers as they advance to the next mini-game. You smile to yourself. They can do this.

Next is the mother playing Gong-gi. She drops her first two tries. You're guessing it must be at least a few decades since she last played.

"Old hag! What are you doi-"

Player 120 puts her hand over player 044's mouth to shut her up.

You watch as 007 speaks to his mother. With a new look of determination in her eyes, she blasts through Gong-gi until she needs to make the final catch. You and player 388 sit on your heels to get a better look. Her son speaks to her again, and face turns to one of rage.

"Rotten bitch!"

All five pieces end up in her hand.

"She did it!" Player 390 says, getting to his feet, 388 following after him. You try to get up but fall back as you lose your balance. Player 388 notices and holds your arms to help you up, keeping a hand on your back to keep you steady as you stand to watch the next game.

044 fumbles the top as she's wrapping it, but quickly retrieves it and tries again. She fumbles a few more times before stopping. Her team freaks out as she stands there mumbling to herself.

A gasp rings out through the crowd as 120 slaps 044 twice, picking up the fallen top and pointing it threateningly at 044's eye.

"Oh shit," you say under your breath.

Player 044 wipes away the blood streaming from her nose and tries again the wrap the string around the top. She gets it on her first throw and the crowd screams in joy as they move to the next one. Everyone is standing now to watch, chanting along to each step.

Player 120 is handed the Jegi and requests that everyone turns around. Not wanting to mess them up, everyone turns without hesitation. The room is silent besides the sound of the Jegi hitting 120's shoes.

Once. Twice. Three times. Four times. Five times.

It's done! They did it!

The rooms bursts into screams as the team crosses the finish line at the last second. You turn and hug 388 in pure joy as he jumps up and down. He quickly pulls away so he doesn't do anything to harm the baby, but keeps his arm around you as he celebrates with 390.

The teams keep going, with everyone celebrating the wins and wincing at the gunfire until it is finally your turn.

As you walk to the starting position, a hand gently grabs your wrist and you turn to see player 388. "Make sure to be careful. Take it easy and don't strain yourself."

You nod with a small smile and thank him, taking your spot in the outer ring of the small track. You take deep breaths as the harnesses are secured around your ankles.

"It's a little sad that we have no audience, isn't it?" 390 says, worry in his voice. He nudges 388. "Hey, are you scared?"

"No sir!" 388 yells, making you jump a bit as you were not expecting it. "It's quiet and easier to focus without anyone watching."

390 looks towards the other team. "Hey guys! We'll see you again at the finish line! Victory at all costs!"

The other team yells back their thanks and support before the pistol is fired and you're off.

When you approach the first mini-game, you take the blue tile and turn it over in your hand to match 095's. Throwing it hard at the floor, you yell in delight as the red tile flips over.

You move on to the next game, holding your stomach as you walk.

As 390 takes the stone, 388 yells out "Let's get this done the first time! I believe in you!"

"When I played baseball, my pitches might have been slow, but I had excellent ball control." You watch as the stones collide and yell out in victory as you move to the next one.

388 takes the Gong-gi pieces and you all crouch down.

390 faces him. "Dae-ho, stay calm. Even if you mess up..."

Player 388, or Dae-ho, puts his finger over his mouth to shush him before facing the board, rolling his wrist a few times and dropping the pieces. As quickly as he can, Dae-ho flawlessly gets through the game and catches all five pieces. You and your team members look at each other in awe of what you just watched. It seems that even Dae-ho can't believe he did it.

He lets out a scream as the guard confirms that he passed.

"That was amazing!" Player 390 yells. "Dae-ho, my boy!"

As you move to the fourth mini game, Player 390 looks down at you. "You're expecting, so be careful."

You nod but try to keep your pace, leaning on the small green table once you get to where you need to be.

As player 001 wraps the string around the top, Dae-ho bounces excitedly. "We might get through everything on the first attempt!"

Player 001 throws the top and it falls lazily to the floor as you all frown.

"It's okay, we have enough time," 456 says. "Let's go pick it up. Ready, go."

You all move forward together to grab the top. "No fun passing everything without a hitch," 390 says.

"That's right," 388 confirms. "You can't grow without failure, right?"

You guess he's right, but it would've been nice to pass everything easily. At least you still have three minutes left.

001 grabs the top and you move back to your spots. On his next throw you watch helplessly as the top flies behind your group. You would have laughed in any other situation.

Player 001 apologizes and you move back to grab the top, with 001 taking his sweet time to pick it up. To save time, he tries wrapping it as you walk forward again, but he breaks out of the arm link in frustration. This time he throws it as soon as it is wrapped. It doesn't spin, but at least it lands directly in front of him so you don't have to move again.

Player 456 picks up the top as 001 sighs in frustration. "What the hell is wrong with me?" He screams and you gasp when he starts slapping himself and calling himself an idiot.

456 takes his arms to stop him. "Try to remember the times when you had fun playing this."

001 nods and takes the top and string again. You take the time to look at the clock and feel a wave of worry wash over you when you see that you have less than a minute left. This time, 001 throws the top with his left hand and it spins perfectly on its axle.

You yell in joy as you quickly links arms again and move to the last game. Player 390 checks on you again as you move, and you just wave him off. The stress can't be good for the baby, but it's definitely not as bad as a bullet.

456 grabs the jegi and moves the pink soldier out of the way. He throws it up.

One hit. Two hits. Three hits. Four hits...

You watch in horror as the jegi flies in front of 456. Quickly, 001 kicks his foot out, making you all almost fall as the jegi lands on top of 456's left foot.

"Pass."

You all yell out victoriously and quickly move, crossing the finish line with a second to spare.

As you're all hugging each other, you flinch at the sounds of gunshots coming from the other side of the room. The other team didn't make it.

The main room is oddly quiet as you walk in. As happy as everyone was to see people pass while watching the games, they don't seem to be very happy about it now. Player 390 next to you waves at someone, and you look in the direction to see the woman and her son.

"That sweet old lady," he says with a smile. "I miss my mom."

You smile at the lady and bow your head to her as she gives you a big smile and two thumbs up.

As you sit down to rest and wait for the pink soldiers, 001 speaks up. "I'm sorry about earlier, everyone."

"If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have made the last kick," 456 says and you nod.

001 looks at you. "Player 222, are you feeling alright?"

You nod. "Yes. Thank you all for letting me be on your team."

Dae-ho smiles shyly and nods.

"She smashed that ddakji and flipped it on her first try, that was impressive," 390 says, making you smile at the praise. "She did great, even while carrying a baby. We were lucky she joined our team."

Dae-ho nods. "What about your Flying Stone play? You hit it with one shot! With an underhand pitch at that! Bam!" You let out a small laugh as he reenacts 390's throw. "You were like Kim Byung-hyun."

"And you?" 390 says. "Was Gong-gi the only game you ever played?" He quickly moves his hand around to imitate Dae-ho. "I could barely see your hand. It was like a martial arts movie."

Dae-ho laughs. "I'm the only son for two generations. My mom only let me play at home with my sisters."

"And yet they let their precious son join the Marines?" 390 questions.

Dae-ho hesitates. "My father's idea, he wanted me to be more of a man. He fought in the Vietnam War, you see."

"He sounds like a great man," 390 says and Dae-ho nods. "Was he a Marine, too?"

You can see the discomfort on Dae-ho's face and he quickly excuses himself from answering the question, instead standing up to face everyone. "Listen. Perhaps we should learn each other's names. I still don't know your names, gentlemen." He smiles a bit more when he looks to you. "Or your's, Miss. I'll start. I'm Kang Dae-ho. 'Dae' means 'big', 'ho' means 'tiger'."

"'Big tiger.' Cool name," 390 says. "My name is Park Jung-bae. 'Righteous' and 'twice'. My parents wanted me to be twice as righteous."

You go next, stating your name for the group. "I don't know what it means, though."

001 says your name, getting your attention. "When you get out of here, go see a doctor right away. You've been under a lot of stress. You need to get yourself checked out."

You nod. "Okay."

"I'm Oh Young-il," 001 says. He points out how it sounds like his number and the group laughs at the coincidence. Young-il turns to 456. "Oh, Gi-hun, what's your last name?"

"My name is Seong Gi-hun," Gi-hun says.

"'Seong' literally means 'last name'," Young-il laughs aloud by himself.

A loud buzz is heard and the guards enter the room. After revealing the results of the game and announcing the next vote, your team turns to each other.

You look down at the red X on your track suit, and look up to see the blue 'O' on Dae-ho's. He sees your gaze and frowns down at his patch.

"I'm telling you, we'll get out this time," he says to the team, though he is mainly looking at you. He looks down at his patch again and curses under his breath. "A Marine should think strategically and know when to retreat." He puts a hand on Jung-bae's shoulder. "Isn't that right, brother?"

"Yeah, you're right," Jung-bae says weakly. "Marines aren't invincible. We should get out." Despite saying this, the look on his face and the nervousness in his tone contradict his words.

"We have to end the games here," Gi-hun says. He turns to look at you. "I will help you guys when we get out. Please trust me and support this vote."

You smile and nod in thanks.

"Guys, all huddle up again," Dae-ho smiles as he sticks out his hand.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

You frown as the buzzer goes off one last time. There had been some... complications during the voting. This lead to the final vote being 116 for X and 139 for O. Standing next to Dae-ho, you don't miss the look of betrayal on his face as he looks over to Jung-bae with the blue patch on his chest.

Dae-ho lets out a loud sigh as you eat your bread. "Brother! Brother Jung-bae!"

You can see Jung-bae tense up from his spot behind the beds.

With a sigh, Dae-ho stands up and approaches the man. "Hey, just come back here."

"No, I'm good here," you hear Jung-bae answer. You roll your eyes.

"Oh, come on." Dae-ho grabs Jung-bae and drags him to face the group.

He stops and stares at you all before speaking. "I'm sorry. I borrowed some emergency cash, and the creditors are harassing my ex-wife and kid. If I play one more game, I think I'll be able to settle my debt."

"Jung-bae," Young-il addresses the man sadly. "You of all people shouldn't have done it. It's not twice as righteous." He sighs before continuing. "But, looking at the results, even if you had voted against, we would still have been outvoted."

Jung-bae jumps at this. "Right? It's not entirely my fault."

"Alright," Dae-ho steps up. "To be honest, I understand why you did it. The money isn't enough for me either, so when I went up to vote, I did think about playing one more game."

Jung-bae hugs the man. "You did?"

Dae-ho pushes him away. "I said I get it."

The shorter man turns back to the group. "Thank you for understanding. But I voted in favor partly because I feel confident. We did so well as a team, didn't we? If we stick together one more time, I'm sure we'll be fine." He turns to you. "I'll make sure we survive the next game-"

"'The next game'?" Gi-hun cuts him off. "In the next game, we might have to kill each other."

There is silence before Young-il speaks up. "Gi-hun, that's a bit much. There's nothing we can do now, so let's try to stay positive. We should eat, pull ourselves together, and try our best again." He picks up his milk and hands it to you. "Here, you can have mine too. Hang in there until the next game."

You shake your head. "No, that's okay."

"Take it. I don't drink plain milk."

You thank him as you take the milk.

Jung-bae takes the bread out of his pocket. "Have my bread, too. I don't deserve to eat."

You smile as you take it. You have been feeling hungry and one piece of bread would definitely not be enough for you, so you're grateful for the men around you.

"I'll take your milk then," Dae-ho says to Jung-bae.

Before you can stop yourself, a loud laugh escapes from your mouth. The others smile before laughing along as well. You look over to Dae-ho to see a blush covering his face as he smiles.

<>

"Pass it to me."

The guys hand each other mattresses as they move them to under the beds. You had been put in charge of collecting blankets and pillows so you wouldn't strain yourself.

"Is this really necessary?" Jung-bae asks. "I don't like sleeping under there."

"Once the lights go out, somebody might attack us," Gi-hun says as he pushes another mattress under a bed frame.

"What?" Dae-ho asks. "Who?"

"The prize money still goes up if we kill each other. It's part of the game they designed."

"Gi-hun, I think you're overreacting here," Young-il says. "Even if that were true, people wouldn't do that."

Gi-hun turns to face him. "In the previous games, dozens of people killed each other at night. Right here. You have no idea how people can change in this place."

Young-il apologizes and you hand the blankets in your arms to Jung-bae.

"We need to take turns keeping watch after lights-out," Gi-hun says. "I'll take the first, you should decide the order for the rest."

The order decided was that Jung-bae would take over after Gi-hun, then Dae-ho, then Young-il would be last. You tried to volunteer to keep watch but they immediately shot you down, saying you needed the rest more than them.

<>

After a trip to the bathroom with players 149 and 120, whose names you still did not know, you come back to find Dae-ho keeping watch. You try to quickly wipe the tear stains from your cheeks as you walk back to the makeshift shelter. You give a quick nod to Dae-ho before trying to move past him, but he calls out your name, making you stop and turn to look at him.

He looks up at you with concern. "Are you okay?"

You put on a smile and nod. "Yes, I'm fine." As you try to walk away you feel his hand gently grab your wrist to stop you.

"No you're not," he says. You sigh, upset that you've been caught. He moves to the side to give you space and you sit next to him, figuring you're not gonna get out of this. "What happened? Was it the baby?"

You shake your head, feeling tears start to well up again. "It's everything." You put your head in your hands. "I never should have played Ddakji with that guy, I never should have called the number, I should have just stayed at home and prepared for the baby."

Dae-ho gently rubs your back as you cry into your sleeves. Even though you really only just met, he feels connected to you. Maybe it's just because you survived the second game together, but he cares for you and doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. He was stunned when you had walked up to the group before the game and asked to join, immediately regretting picking anyone besides the beautiful stranger that was standing in front of him.

"What about your husband?" Dae-ho asks. "Does he know that you're here?"

You shake your head. "I don't have a husband. I don't even have a boyfriend. It's just me and the baby." You turn to look at him and although he's too kind to ask you how you got knocked up, you can see the question all over his face. "My ex-boyfriend is the reason I got into so much debt. He made a lot of bad investments and when he ran out of his own money, he started using mine. When I told him I was pregnant, he freaked out and left. Didn't even say anything, his stuff was just all gone one day."

Dae-ho feels himself getting angry at this. If he found out a man had done this with one of his sisters, he would do something to him that would probably land him in prison. It takes two people to make a baby. Just because the mother is the one that carries it doesn't mean that the father isn't responsible for the child.

"He's a fucking coward," Dae-ho says, making you snort a small laugh. "And he's an idiot to leave you."

"It's for the best, though," you say. "He wasn't a good boyfriend, I knew that even while we were dating. But he was my first love, and we all do stupid things the first time we're in love." Dae-ho nods, watching as you bring your hand to rest on your stomach. "I only wish that my child would have a father in their life."

"They will have an amazing mother, though," he says, making you smile.

"I hope so," you rub your swollen belly. "Hey, Dae-ho, can I ask you something?"

Dae-ho nods, looking at you with intrigue.

"Earlier you told Jung-bae that you had thought about voting to stay. Why didn't you?" You ask.

The man takes a deep breath. "Honestly, I thought of you. You and your baby. When you told us that you're pregnant, it really hit me that I'm not the only person in here, that there are other lives at risk. If you died, it wouldn't just be the end of your life. Your baby doesn't deserve that. You don't deserve that."

You can't help the smile that blooms on your face at his words, as well as the small blush. "Thank you for thinking of me. You're a very sweet person, Kang Dae-ho." You watch as he gives you a shy smile, a light dusting of pink on his face. "What about you? Do you have a girlfriend waiting for you back home?"

He shakes his head. "No, just me." You give him an incredulous look and he chuckles. "Dating wasn't easy while in the Marines, and I guess I just never found anyone that interested me enough after."

You let out a small laugh. "Sounds like you have high standards."

He chuckles. "I'm just waiting to find the one. They say that when you know, you know."

"That's going to be one very lucky girl," you say, watching as the blush on his face deepens. "I hope you find her soon."

"I can't explain why, but I feel like I will." He smiles down at you with a look that makes your heart skip a beat. After a few moments he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry I've kept you up for so long, you should get some sleep. You'll likely need your energy for tomorrow's game."

You nod, standing up. "You're right, I've been up too long." You start to move towards your mattress, but stop. "It was nice talking to you, Dae-ho."

He smiles at you. "Goodnight."

You smile back. "Goodnight."

For the rest of his watch, Dae-ho sneaks peaks at your sleeping form, a warm feeling running through him when he thinks about your words.

<>

You awake to the feeling of someone shaking you. Groggily opening your eyes, you see Dae-ho leaning over you.

"The next game is starting soon, we need to get up," he says.

You hear the classical music that has played before every game and nod, allowing him to help you get out of bed. "Nothing to start the day off like a sadistic game and fearing for your life, huh?"

Dae-ho lets out a chuckle as you make your way to the doors. He walks behind you on the stairs to make sure you don't fall, and stands right by your side as the curtains are opened to reveal the game room.

"Welcome to your third game. The game you will be playing is Mingle. All players, please step onto the center platform. When the game starts, the platform will begin to rotate, and you will hear a number. You must form groups of that size, go into the rooms, and close the door within 30 seconds."

"Oh, this game?" Jung-bae says. "We used to play something similar on school trips. We formed groups by hugging."

"I played it too," you say. "But we would hold hands instead."

Together you set up a strategy. If the number is five, you'll all go together. If it's more than five, you'll grab however many people we need. If it's smaller than five, you'll break off into groups. When your strategy is done, you put your hands in the center.

"Victory at all costs."

<>

"Let the game begin."

The platform jerks as it starts rotating, and you almost lose your balance, but Dae-ho is there to grab you and steady you on your feet.

"Ten."

Everyone starts looking around like mad as they try to find ten players.

Gi-hun looks to a player behind him. "How many are you?"

"Four," the woman replies. You recognize her as one of the women who came to the bathroom with you last night.

"That makes us nine!" Jung-bae says.

A man from another group comes running over. "Are you five? We need five!"

Before any of you can answer, another player yells back. "We have five people! Come with us!"

The two groups go running off towards a door.

"We have to hurry!" Gi-hun says.

"There's no time, Gi-hun!" Young-il tells him.

"We need one more!" the tall woman yells. She spots someone by herself near the center of the platform and grabs her. "We have ten!"

"Room 44! Green door! Hurry!" Young-il yells, already running off in the direction of the door.

You run as fast as you can towards the door as Young-il holds it open for everyone to get inside. You feel Dae-ho's hand on the small of your back the entire way to the room. Before you get the chance to even think, the clock runs out, and the lock clicks on the door.

Screams and gunshots can be heard from behind the door, the sad fate of those who didn't make it in time.

Dae-ho turns to you, putting his hands on your shoulders. "How are you feeling? Is everything okay?"

"A bit out of breath, but I'm okay," you say, and he nods. Taking the chance to look around the room, you see that the other five is the first group that passed the pentathlon the day before.

"You're alive thanks to me!" Player 044 yells out, making you jump. She looks over everyone before stopping on you and stepping closer, making you take a step back. Dae-ho holds you close to him as the woman looks down at your stomach. She then looks up at Dae-ho and gives him a knowing smirk before leaving to speak to Gi-hun.

You look up at Dae-ho, who is still holding you to his chest. He watches the woman walk away before look down at you, your faces so close that your noses are only a few inches apart.

Once the bodies are removed from the playing area, you're let out of the room and make your way back to the center platform. The next round is four people to a room, and Young-il goes off on his own to find three more as the rest of you run to a room with a purple door.

Once you're let out, Dae-ho and Jung-bae yell for Young-il before a voice calling Gi-hun's name grabs your attention. You look over with relief to see Young-il jogging up to your group.

"I knew you were going to be okay!" Jung-bae smiles as he pulls Young-il in for a hug. "I knew it. You're not just anybody."

"I was worried," Gi-hun says. "I'm glad you made it."

Young-il smiles. "I'm a likable guy, so I'm good at games like this." He turns to you. "Are you feeling alright?"

You nod with a smile. "Yes, I'm alright. I'm glad you're back."

Young-il gives you a smile, but his face turns serious. "Wait a minute," Young-il says, "if the next number is six, we won't need anyone else, will we?"

"Why not?" Dae-ho asks.

After a moment, Jung-bae laughs. "Oh, in her tummy?"

Dae-ho lets out a loud laugh. "Right, that makes six."

You smile as they joke around, looking down to your swollen belly.

The next round is three, so you, Dae-ho, and Jung-bae run to a room with an orange door. With every round, you can feel yourself growing more and more tired, and your feet are begging for relief from so much standing and moving.

Once you get out of the green room with Dae-ho and players 120, 095, 007, and 149 (you make a mental note to ask for their names once you're back in the main room), you feel exhausted. As you step onto the platform, Dae-ho grabs your arm to support you.

"Now, the final round will begin."

The platform begins to rotate and you lean on Dae-ho to keep yourself upright.

"What do you think it'll be this time?" Jung-bae leans forward to ask Gi-hun.

"Two," Young-il answers, getting our attention.

"Why?"

"There are 126 people left, and there are 50 rooms. So there won't be enough rooms for everyone, only 100."

"Are you alright?" Dae-ho asks you, concern on his face.

You shake your head. "I don't think I can run anymore."

The platform stops and the lighting dims.

"Two."

Before you can tell what's happening, you are lifted off the ground. You hold on tightly to Dae-ho as he sprints to the nearest door with you in his arms. Once inside, he places you on the ground and moves toward the door, pushing his weight against it to keep anyone else from getting in and pushing you out.

You keep your gaze on the man. He saved your life. He saved your baby's life. Without hesitation. Hell, he even voted to leave for you yesterday. This man who only came into your life a day ago has shown you more unwavering loyalty than anyone else has before.

Then the realization dawns on you: you don't want to do this without him. You don't want anything to happen to him. You want to protect him, just as he is protecting you. Not just in the games, but always.

The lock on the door clicks into place and screams are heard from the other side of the door. Once the screams finish, Dae-ho kneels beside you.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

You shake your head, still in awe of the man in front of you. You examine his face and a surge of confidence rushes through you.

"Can I do something really stupid?"

Dae-ho gives you a confused look. "What?"

You grab his zip-up and pull him to you, planting your lips against his. You feel him stiffen and worry that you've made a terrible mistake, but before you can pull away, you feel one of his hands slide into your hair as the other moves to cup your cheek.

For a perfect moment, you're not in this crazy place. There's no debt, there's no death, there's no fear. There's just you and Dae-ho.

You pull away first but Dae-ho chases your lips, giving you a peck before resting his forehead against yours as you both try to catch your breath.

"I promise you that I am going to get us out of here," he whispers to you. You feel his hand move down to your stomach. "The three of us. If you'll let me."

You gasp at his words, tears forming in your eyes as you nod. This time, you believe him. Dae-ho pulls you in for another kiss and you smile against his mouth, feeling him smile as well.

The sound of the door unlocking gains your attention and Dae-ho pulls away. Voices can be heard beyond the door.

Dae-ho stands up and holds out his hands for you to take, helping you to your feet. He wipes the stray tears from your cheeks and plants a kiss on your forehead before lacing your fingers together and leading you out of the room.

Dae-ho tags: @whatthefuckeryfuckityfuck

Lmk if you want to be added to the Dae-ho taglist!

[willaminareads]

too busy

PARING: exhusband!drew x reader

SUMMARY: you and drew had been divorced for a little under a year now. while drew had your two kids this weekend, zach unfortunately let it slip, that mommy had a new "friend". drew was anything but thrilled.

WORD COUNT: 667 words

WARNINGS: possesive drew, angst, fluff, cursing, kids.

WILLA SPEAKS: hey! this is my first fic, on this blog, and i'm so excited!! please note that english is not my first language, so if any mistakes occur, i'm so sorry! enjoy<3

you stand outside his door, waiting for him to open it. you were a little nervous. you didn't exactly have a reason to be, but you were.

"y/n," drew says as he opens the door. "hi, baby, come in. the kids are in their playroom." he ushers you inside, hoping you didn't notice he let the nickname slip. old habits die hard.

you smile softly at the nickname but quickly stop once you notice. this is your ex. hell, not even just your ex—your ex-husband.

you follow him inside his new house. you liked it, though it did remind you of the house the two of you once shared.

"can i get you anything?" drew breaks the silence.

"you have tea?" you ask softly.

"the kettle is already on, sweetheart," he responds in the same soft tone. god, he knows me so well, you thought.

he finds a cup for you and starts preparing the tea. silence falls between you. it wasn't awkward per se, but not exactly pleasant either.

drew is the first to break the silence, still keeping all his attention on your tea. "zach says you've got a new friend." his tone is sharp, not at all soft like the one you'd heard just a couple of minutes ago.

a quiet "oh," was all you could muster up. you didn't know what to say. i mean, what could you say?

he turns his attention to you, handing you the cup of tea. "yeah, that was my reaction as well," he says bitterly.

you sigh. "come on, drew, don't do this." guilt written all over your face.

he lets out a dry laugh. "i didn't do shit, y/n."

"i'm allowed to move on, drew," you say softly, catching his gaze.

"the fuck you are," he sneers, placing his hands on the countertop. "i can't, so you don't get to either." his statement hangs in the air as you stare at each other.

you scoff. "no, you don't get to do this, drew. you fucked up. you didn't have time for us," you say, knowing how to hit him where it hurts.

"don't say that." he looks down, unable to meet your eyes.

"why not, drew? it's true," you state. "you were too busy with your big dreams, and, i mean, it worked out for you," you say, waving your arms slightly. "you have everything a man could want," you taunt.

"you know that's not true," he glares at you.

you shrug. "you can't have your cake and eat it too."

he scoffs at your comment. "right, okay. you're getting on my nerves, y/n," he bites. "you know how much i wanted to make this work. you know how much i love you—"

you cut him off. "loved."

"no, fuck that, and fuck you for saying it," he raises his voice at you. he doesn't do that often. "i'm sorry..." he takes a deep breath. "you know that i still love you. i just want another chance, y/n. let me show you that we can make this work," he says softly, reaching for your hand.

you shake your head at him. "we can't put the kids through another divorce, drew," you say softly.

"we won't," he says. "come on, y/n. we can make this work."

you sigh. "drew..."

"please," he says, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek.

"there's no new guy." drew stares at you, a little confused, waiting for you to continue. "that friend zach says he saw me with?" drew nods along. "it was chase."

"chase? as in my co-star chase?" drew asks, utterly confused.

"yeah... he and maddie came by to help me build a dresser." you bite your lip, your nerves taking over your body.

"oh," he falls silent.

"drew?" you ask.

"so, no new guy?" he asks with a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

"no new guy." you confirm.

"so... do you wanna marry me again..?" he asks.

"drew!" you exclaim with laughter as you smack his arm.

[allllium]

Just an Accident

~ Jason todd x reader who was accidentally hurt

~ Fluff, Jason being dramatic, WC:

~ Inspired by @mostly-imagines

[Thank you guys for being so patient while I finished this and thank you for all likes 💓💓 I really wasn't expecting anything till this was finished. Hope this meets your expectations <3]

Jason tried really hard to keep his secret secret from you but let's be honest, he's very obvious about it. Especially once you meet his family.

After he finally came clean to you about everything, he became even more protective. More protective than you ever thought possible.

He would freak out anytime he didn't know where you were or if you got hurt in any way.

"I'm so so sorry." Bruce says, following you through the mansion repeating his apology.

"It's okay, Bruce, it was an accident." You reply, "I should've known."

Honestly there was no way you could've known that Bruce was creating some elaborate booby trap on the kitchen counter that would fail and smack you in the face when you walked into the kitchen.

It didn't hurt too bad, luckily Bruce was testing things with plastic and not the real materials.

From the look of it though, you'll definitely have a mark on your nose and possibly a bruise under your eye.

"I had no idea it was gonna do that." He continues defending, knowing how Jason will react.

"It's fine, I swear. I know you wouldn't do that on purpose." You walk into the living room and sit down on the couch. Bruce sits next to you.

"Can I get you anything?" He asks. Obviously freaking out.

"No, it's alright. It really doesn't hurt."

"Oh shit." You hear Dick gasp. Coming in through the front door with Tim.

"Oh, what did you do!?" Tim asks, "Jason is gonna kill you."

"It was an accident, everything is fine." You try to calm everyone down.

Seeing that you're okay, Dick can't hold back his laugh.

"Wow, Jason is never gonna trust you again Bruce." Tim hits Dick on the arm and rolls his eyes. To the side of you, Bruce leans forward to hold his head in his hands.

"I think you guys are being a little dramatic. Jason isn't gonna kill him."

"No you seriously underestimate how Jason will react to this." Tim tells you.

"Yeah, remember he almost killed me for making jokes about you when you first got together."

"What?" You turn to Dick in confusion, "I don't remember that."

"Not important," he waves it off, "The point is, we need a plan."

"A plan for what?"

"A plan to hide this from Jason" He tells you, in a tone that screams obvious.

"How would I do that, Dick? I live with him."

"I don't know yet, that's why we need a plan!" He exclaims, pacing in front of the couch.

You roll your eyes, "You're being dramatic."

"No he's not." Bruce says. You fall back into the couch and cross your arms over chest.

"Bruce please. I need at least one of other person here to be an adult."

You can hear Tim laughing as he sits in the chair next to the couch.

"Well, he's right. Jason's gonna be pissed." Bruce shakes his head at you. He stands from the couch and starts pacing with Dick.

"They're gonna make me lose my mind." You mumble under your breath. You run your hands over your face, this childish behavior you're watching isn't what you were expecting from Batman and Nightwing.

Okay to be honest you were definitely expecting this from Dick.

Tim leans over to whisper to you, "You should make a break for it, they're too busy plotting to notice you leave."

"Let me guess," you whisper back, "you've had to make a break for it a couple times?"

"More than you know." He shakes him head and has a serious look on his face.

"Well, have fun with that." You laugh and walk out the front door. Tim was right, both the guys were so busy trying to figure out how to hide you from Jason, they totally forgot to hide you.

You rush home to meet Jason. You were supposed to meet for dinner but obviously you got a little distracted.

"Hey baby." You sigh when you walk through the door. Jason is in the kitchen cooking dinner. Whatever he chose to make, made the whole room smell amazing.

"Hey. What took you so long?"

"I stopped by the mansion to borrow that thing from Alfred but he wasn't there." You tell him, referencing some cooking tool you wanted to make desert for after dinner.

"Where did he go?" You want into the kitchen to see him while you talk.

"I have no idea. I got distracted by something Bruce was doing." You walk over and take a piece of food that he's cutting.

Without looking, he softly smacks your hand away.

"Rude." You laugh.

"This is my sacred space." He puts the knife down and gestures over the whole counter.

"You're ridiculous." You laugh again and kiss him on the cheek.

"How dare you." He puts his hand on his chest in fake offense. Only then does he turn to actually look at you. "What happened?" He immediately asks.

"Oh it's fine, just got smacked with some plastic " Which is apparently not the answer he wanted.

"What the fuck does that mean?" He grabs your face gently and examines the marks on your face.

"It means I got hit with some plastic. But it doesn't hurt." You quickly explain, but he doesn't let go of your face or stop freaking out.

"What plastic?"

"Bruce was experimenting with something and it didn't work."

"He did this?" He lets go off your face to run his hands over his own.

"It was accident. He wouldn't hurt me on purpose and you know that."

"I don't care if it was an accident, you're hurt."

"Jason." You say firmly. He's obviously surprised considering you never use his name to address him. "An accident is an accident and you're not gonna hold this against Bruce. He already apologized and clearly felt bad."

"But you're hurt" He pouts.

You step forward and wrap your arms over his shoulders. "It doesn't hurt. It was just some plastic."

"It left a mark."

"I promise I'm okay. And I want you to promise you won't hurt Bruce for this." You look right into his eyes and do your best to give him a puppy dog look. Which isn't necessary because he can't say no to you anyway.

"Fine I promise I won't hurt him." He presses his forehead to yours, "I'd rather leave him to stew in fear anyway."

You chuckle at his words. "As long as no real harm comes to him I won't stop you from having fun."

"Good." He kisses you once and heads back to make dinner. You have no doubt Jason would ever actually hurt Bruce over something so small but you'd rather be safe than sorry.

Hopefully this'll stop Dick and Bruce acting like absolutely children in the future.

Yeah that'll never happen.

Not even 10 minutes after finishing dinner you get a call from Dick.

"How dare you?" He asks the moment you answer the phone. "You're a traitor."

"Again with the dramatics Dick. You can't stop me from going home."

"Let me guess Jason's on his way here to get some revenge right now." He says in a very childish and fearful tone.

"No! I was right, you guys are way more dramatic than you should be and he has no intention of killing anyone." Jason looks at you as you talk to his brother. Clearly wondering what he has to do with this situation.

"I don't believe you. You've shown where your loyalty lies."

"Why are you talking like I'm an enemy or something?"

"Maybe you are! How should I know?"

"Okay you're right." You decide to play along, "I couldn't stop him from wanting to kill Bruce, he's on his way there right now."

Jason furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

"I knew it! Mark my words one day-"

His voice cuts off when you hang up.

"There is something severely wrong with your entire family." You tell Jason with a blank face.

"Yeah I know." He puts his arm over your shoulder and pulls you into him.

Hmm you wonder how long it takes till Dick realizes you lied.

[harrysfolklore]

labyrinth - fc43

summary: as the only female driver on the grid, everything in yn's life was planned like a perfect qualifying lap. then franco colapinto had to show up. first, he was just that annoying new guy who took her best friend's seat. then he became the driver she absolutely couldn't stand (or at least that's what she kept telling herself) word count: over 13k + social media posts

folkie radio: GUYYYYSSS SHE'S HERE! i started writing this fic in september and it's finally her time to shine!! this is my first time writing driver!reader so please be gentle with me. also, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! may all of your wishes come true

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,027,537 others

yourinstagram p6 in zandvoort ! happy to see max on the podium for his home race. see you soon monza 🇮🇹

view all comments

username1 LEGEND

username2 p6 with that tractor feels like a podium finish fr

username3 give your seat to danny already

oscarpiastri Well done stinks 👊

↳ logansargeant Don’t praise her, her ego gets inflated

↳ username2 BEST TRIO ON THE GRID

↳ yourinstagram you’re both so jealous of me

redbullracing Keep pushing ! 💙

↳ username1 FIX HER FUCKING CAR

username4 p6 in a redbull? just hand the seat to someone more deserving

francolapinto Amazing 🙌🙌

↳ username2 franco is such a fannn

danielricciardo Proud of you 👌👌

↳ username1 haters want to create this beef between yn and danny for the seat but him adores her

maxverstappen1 Look she’s a nice teammate

↳ yourinstagram you adore me 😤

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

A knot forms in your stomach as you read the messages. Something about the tone doesn't sit right with you. You quickly head towards Logan's motorhome, your mind racing and your axiety creeping in.

When you arrive, Oscar is already there, leaning against the wall with a concerned expression. Logan sits on the couch, his shoulders slumped and his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Logan?" you ask softly, stepping into the room. "What's going on?"

He looks up at you, then at Oscar, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and resignation. "I… I'm not coming back for the next race," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You feel like you've been punched in the gut. Deep down, a part of you had known this was coming. Rumors in the paddock spread faster than a Formula 1 car on a straight, and there had been whispers about Logan's seat for weeks. But you hadn't wanted to believe it. You'd pushed those thoughts aside, convinced that if you just ignored them, they wouldn't come true.

"What? What do you mean you're not coming back?"

Oscar pushes off the wall, his brow furrowed. "Mate, what happened?"

Logan takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Williams… they're replacing me. I'm out."

The room falls silent for a moment as the news sinks in. Then, all at once, you feel a surge of anger coursing through your veins.

"They can't do that!" you exclaim, your voice rising. "It's mid-season! You've been improving, you've been working so hard. How can they just… just throw you away like this?"

Logan shrugs, a bitter smile on his face. "Apparently, they can. And they have."

A wave of emotions come crashing to you. Anger at Williams for their decision, frustration at the ruthless nature of the sport, and an overwhelming sadness for Logan.

Oscar moves to sit beside Logan, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, mate. This is bullshit."

You start pacing the room, your anger building with each step. "Who are they replacing you with? Some pay driver? Some rookie who's never even touched an F1 car?"

"Franco Colapinto," Logan says quietly.

You stop in your tracks, whirling to face him. "Colapinto? The F2 kid? Are they out of their minds?"

Oscar tries to interject, his voice calm. "YN, maybe we should-"

But you're too fired up to listen. "No, Oscar! This is wrong. It's so wrong. Logan deserves better than this. He deserves a chance to prove himself. How is he supposed to do that if they don't even give him a full season?"

Logan looks up at you, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes. "I appreciate you having my back, stinks. But it's done. There's nothing we can do about it now."

You shake your head. "No, there has to be something. They can't just replace you with some F2 kid like that. They're out of their minds."

"YN," Oscar cuts in firmly. "I know you're angry. We all are. But right now, we need to be here for Logan. This isn't about us or what we think is fair. It's about supporting our friend."

As Oscar's words sink in, you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. He's right, of course. This isn't about your anger or your sense of injustice. It's about Logan, your friend who's just had his dream ripped away from him.

The three of you have been racing together since you were kids, climbing through the ranks side by side. You've shared victories and defeats, laughter and tears. You've pushed each other to be better, to chase your dreams relentlessly. And now, one of you is being left behind.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "I just… I can't believe this is happening."

Logan manages a small smile. "It's okay, stinks. I appreciate your passion. It's one of the things I've always admired about you."

"Remember when we were in karting, and YN nearly got into a fist fight with that kid who tried to push Logan off the track?" Oscar says with a small smile, trying to light up the mood.

"How could I forget?" +

Logan chuckles softly, "She was like a tiny ball of fury."

You feel a smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. "Hey, nobody messes with my boys and gets away with it."

"And nothing's changed," Oscar adds, giving you a fond look. "We've always had each other's backs, through everything. This is not the exception."

Without another word, the three of you come together in a tight group hug, a physical representation of the bond you've shared for so many years.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 2,017,697 others

yourinstagram logan, you’re more than just a friend — you’re family. we’ve raced together since we were kids, dreaming of f1. to see that dream cut short for you is heartbreaking

your talent, dedication and kindness have always shone through. you deserved better than this mid-season swap. this sport can be cruel, but this feels especially unfair and i’m angry that my friend’s journey has been interrupted

but i’m also incredibly proud of you, logan. you have handled this with grace and strength and this isn’t the end for you — it’s just a detour. love you, stinks 🥲

view all comments

username1 IM SOBBING

username2 i still can’t believe this

username3 well hold your tears because you’re next

pierregasly Chin up, mate @/logansargeant you’re a champ 👊

alex_albon You will always be family @/logansargeant, It’s so sad to see you go

username4 that was cute now hand your seat to daniel or yuki

username5 THE FIRST PIC 🥺🥺 IM NOT OKAY

username6 oh she’s PISSED

username7 this is so unfair for logan

username8 colapinto has an enemy on track already and it’s her 😭

username9 the best trio will be incomplete now i’m not okay

username10 YOU NEXT BYE BYE

logansargeant Thank you for everything, go make me proud 💙

↳ username1 IM SOBBING AGAIN

liked by francolapinto, landonorris and 410,764 others

williamsracing Franco Colapinto to race for the remainder of the 2024 season.

username1 VAMOOOS

username2 hello?? hes cute

username3 OKAY I SEE

username4 good thing for the team, sargeant was just not it

alex_albon Welcome to the fam @/francolapinto 👊

username5 KIIING

username6 an f1 kid who's not even top 5 right now in the championship? risky move

yourinstagram not even giving logan a proper goodbye? yall suck

THIS COMMENT HAS BEEN DETELED

username1 OMFG YN WE SAW THAT

username2 YN 😭😭

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Monza is always a race to look forward no matter what team you drive for, but today, your excitement is just not there.

The paddock feels different without Logan's presence, you have always raced alongside him, and not seeing his face during a race weekend feels wrong.

As you make your way through the bustling crowd, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness and anger. Inside the Red Bull hospitality area, you find Max already settled in, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you approach, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you holding up?" he asks, gesturing for you to take a seat next to him.

"As well as can be expected, I guess," you slump into the chair, running a hand through your hair. "It just feels wrong, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it," Max nods, his expression thoughtful, "How's Logan doing? Have you talked to him?"

The mention of Logan's name ignites that spark of anger inside you again. "He's… he's putting on a brave face, but I know he's hurting. This whole situation is such bullshit, Max. Williams made a huge mistake."

Max raises an eyebrow, sensing the storm brewing beneath your calm exterior. "You want to talk about it?"

That's all the invitation you need. The words start pouring out of you, your voice rising with each sentence.

"It's just so unfair! Logan was improving every race. He was working his ass off, putting in the hours, doing everything the team asked of him. And for what? To be tossed aside mid-season for some rookie?"

Max tries to interject, "Well, Colapinto has been pretty impressive in F2-"

But you're on a roll now, barely registering his words. "Impressive in F2? So what? F1 is a whole different ball game. Logan was just starting to get comfortable, to really show what he could do. And now they've brought in this Colapinto kid who's never even driven an F1 car, who's probably a paid driver who's just going to waste everyone's times. What kind of message does that send?"

You stand up, pacing back and forth as you continue your rant. "Williams is making a huge mistake. They're throwing away all the work Logan put in, all the data they've gathered. For what? A gamble on some unproven talent? And don't even get me started on how they handled it. No warning, no real explanation. Just 'Thanks for your service, now get out.' It's disrespectful, it's short-sighted, and it's everything that's wrong with this sport sometimes."

Max watches you, a mix of concern and surprise on his face. He's never seen you this fired up before. "YN, I understand you're upset, but-"

"No, Max!" you interrupt him, "You don't understand because you'll never have the fear of having your seat taken from you out of nowhere. You're Max Verstappen. You're safe. But for the rest of us… we're always one bad weekend away from losing everything."

Max's brow furrows, clearly taken aback by your statement. "YN, that's not true. I worked hard to get where I am-"

"I know you did," you interrupt again, your voice softer now. "I'm not saying you didn't. But you have to admit, your position is different. You're a world champion. You're untouchable. But for drivers like Logan, like me… we're always looking over our shoulders, always wondering if this race will be our last."

Max is silent for a moment, processing your words. "I guess you're right, I've been in a secure position for so long, I forgot what it's like to worry about your seat." He pauses, then adds, "But you know, you're in a unique position too. You're the only woman driving a Formula 1 car. That's pretty special. You should feel-"

You cut him off, your frustration flaring up again. "Exactly! I'm the only woman here, Max. Do you have any idea how much more pressure that puts on me? Every move I make is scrutinized. Every-"

Before you can continue, you spot Franco Colapinto walking past the Red Bull area, chatting animatedly with his new race engineer. The sight of him in Williams colors sends another wave of resentment through you, and you turn away abruptly.

"I need some air," you mutter, storming out of the hospitality area, leaving a bewildered Max in your wake.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The sun beats down as you stand next to Oscar on the flatbed truck, waiting for the drivers' parade to begin. The usual buzz of excitement surrounding Monza feels muted to you, overshadowed still by Logan's absence and the presence of his replacement.

"Oi, what's with the long face?" Oscar nudges you playfully with his elbow. "You look like someone stole your last Tim Tam."

"Oh shut up, you dork," you can't help but crack a small smile, "As if I'd ever let anyone near my precious Tim Tams."

"Too right," Oscar grins. "But seriously, how are you holding up?"

You shrug, trying to keep your expression neutral for the cameras. "Oh, you know, just peachy. Nothing like a bit of midseason drama to spice things up, right?"

"Always the optimist, aren't you?" Oscar rolls his eyes, "Come on, I bet you twenty quid you can't name all the Italian F1 circuits without googling."

"You're on, Piastri," you say, grateful for the distraction. "Monza, Imola, Mugello…"

As you're racking your brain for more, you notice Franco Colapinto approaching. Your playful mood evaporates instantly.

Franco's eyes widen as he gets closer, clearly starstruck. "Uh, hi," he says nervously. "I'm Franco. I just wanted to introduce myself."

Oscar, ever the diplomat, smiles and extends his hand. "Hey mate, welcome to F1. I'm Oscar."

Franco shakes his hand before turning to you, his expression one of barely contained awe. "And you're YN. I… I can't believe I'm actually meeting you. You're such an inspiration. The way you've broken barriers in this sport, it's incredible. I've followed your career since your F3 days and-"

You cut him off, your voice cool. "Thanks. Welcome to the grid."

Franco's smile falters, but he presses on. "I just wanted to say how much I admire what you've accomplished. You've paved the way for so many young drivers, especially women in motorsport. It's an honor to be racing alongside you."

You nod stiffly. "Thanks," you repeat, your tone making it clear that you're not interested in continuing the conversation.

An awkward silence falls over the group. Oscar, sensing the tension, tries to smooth things over. "So, Franco, how are you finding the step up to F1 so far?"

As Franco turns to answer Oscar, you take the opportunity to step away, moving to the other side of the truck. You can feel Oscar's gaze following you, but you can't bring yourself to engage in small talk with Logan's replacement, no matter how well-intentioned he might be.

As you're standing alone, Alex approaches, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Hey, mind if I join you?"

You shrug. "Free country, Albon. Or free truck, I guess."

Alex chuckles softly. "How are you doing? I know this can't be easy for you."

You sigh, your guard dropping slightly with Alex. "It's… complicated. I'm angry for Logan, but I know it's not Franco's fault. It's just…"

"It's the reality of the sport we're in," Alex finishes for you. "Trust me, I get it. Been there, done that, got the Red Bull rejection t-shirt."

Your stomach twists at the mention of that, suddenly remembering the endless conversations and warnings from your team. And how despite having a contract for next season, there's threats about your seat being take away after every race weekend. But you push the thought away.

"Always the comedian, aren't you?"

"Someone's got to keep the mood light around here," Alex grins. "But seriously, I know it's tough. Franco's a good kid, though. He's been working really hard, trying to learn as much as he can."

You nod, not quite ready to let go of your resentment but appreciating Alex's perspective. "How's he settling in?"

"As well as can be expected," Alex says. "He's got a lot to learn, but he's eager. It's a big step up from F2, but he's handling the pressure well so far."

You're about to respond when the parade starts moving. Alex gives you a supportive pat on the shoulder before moving back to his spot. As the truck rolls down the straight, the cheers of the Tifosi wash over you. You lift your hand to wave, a mix of emotions swirling inside you that go beyond just Logan's replacement.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,638,578 others

yourinstagram p8. it is what it is. ciao monza 👋

view all comments

username1 you will always be the moment

username2 FIX THE FUCKING CAR ALREADY

username3 ouu shes DONEEE

username4 most undeserved seat on the grid i swear

username5 anyway RICBULL IS COMING

francolapinto Such a pleasure to race alongside you!

↳ username1 franco respects and admires her so much i love it

↳ username2 im pretty sure yn hates him tho

username6 the constructors championship is gone thanks to her

logansargeant Chin up, love you 💙

↳ username2 i miss them so much

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 12,739 others

f1gossip YN arriving at Red Bull HQ in Milton Keynes

Tensions running high as rumors swirl about potential driver shake-ups. Sources say YN’s recent performance has bosses considering options

Is the Honey Badger eyeing a comeback or could young Liam Lawson be making the leap to F1? 🤔

view all comments

username1 bro...

username2 they better fix her car NOW

username3 RICBULL RICBULL

username4 honestly the best thing for the team would be her getting replaced

username5 YAAAS SHE'S OUT FINALLY

username6 oscar is the only 2023 rookie who actually puts in the work

username7 some people need to start putting some respect on yn's name bc yall keep forgetting she was third in the championship and got her first win during her ROOKIE SEASON and the reason she's struggling rn is bc redbull is not getting their shit together

↳ username1 right??? they're just saying shit

↳ username4 you said it yourself, she has a championship winning car and she's not delivering. she should be out

username8 YN GET BEHIND ME

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,638,538 others

yourinstagram great quali, we should have some fun tomorrow 😚

view all comments

username1 SLAYYY

username2 p4 after all the nonsense surrounding her seat? feels right

username3 THE QUEEN OF BAKU FOR REAL

lilyzneimer my favorite supergirl 💙

username4 she got lucky

username5 don't care, we still want danny or liam in that seat

username6 enjoy the race bc it might be your last

username7 watch her on that podium tomorrow

logansargeant Super proud always

↳ username2 LOGAN WE MISSS YOUUUU

francolapinto 🤩

liked by username1, logansargeant and 270,847 others

redbullracing Solid race and a bunch of points for the team 👊

Result 🏁PIA, LEC, YN P3, NOR, Max P5, ALO, ALB, COL, HAM, BEA

#F1 #RedBullRacing #AzerbaijanGP

view all comments

username1 SO DAMN TRUE

username2 yn back on the podium FINALLY

username3 yn saw the rumors about her seat and decided to shut them up

username4 SHES BEATING MAX FINALLY

username5 did they finally fix the car

username6 i don't want anyone commenting on her seat anymore

username7 i knew she got into that care absolutely PISSED

username8 QUEEN OF BAKU

liked by oscarpiastri, francolapinto and 1,764,933 others

yourinstagram was that entertaining? 😙 so happy to be on the podium for osco's second win, i love you so muuuch you diva

view all comments

username1 LEGEND

username2 she's so smug

username3 TELL THEM QUEEEN

landonorris The third pic is definitely your best @/oscarpiastri

↳ yourinstagram IKR

↳ username1 I LOVE THEM

logansargeant Congrats to both of you @/oscarpiastri @/yourinstagram I'm always proud of everything you achieve ❤️

↳ username2 logan should be there too i'm sad now

↳ oscarpiastri Love you mate

↳ yourinstagram this paddock will never be the same without you

maxvertsappen1 🙌🙌 So proud of you little sister

oscarpiastri Love you stinks

francolapinto Congrats! Always an honor to race alongside you

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The drivers' briefing has just concluded, and you find yourself lingering in the room, chatting with your friends.

"I swear, I almost peed my pants at that press conference!," Lando says, his eyes widening as he recalls, "When Max and YN just sat there in silence, staring down the journalists… I thought I was going to lose it!"

Pierre chuckles, giving you a knowing look. "I knew YN was the mastermind behind that. It has her written all over it."

"Well, someone had to make a point about these ridiculous penalties," you can't help but grin.

The group's laughter is interrupted as Franco approaches, a tentative smile on his face. "Hey guys, mind if I join?"

The others welcome him warmly, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach. You force a tight smile, trying to keep your emotions in check.

"Franco, mate!" George exclaims, patting him on the back. "That was some impressive driving in practice. You're settling in well."

Alex nods in agreement. "Yeah, you're really holding your own out there. Williams made a good choice."

You feel your jaw clench at Alex's words, but you remain silent, watching as Franco's face lights up with pride and gratitude.

"Thanks, guys," Franco says, his voice humble. "I still have a lot to learn, but I'm giving it my all."

"Well, it's paying off," Lando chimes in, "Points in just your second race? You're pushing that Williams harder than we've seen in a while."

As the conversation continues, with each driver offering praise and encouragement to Franco, you feel your frustration and anger building.

The memory of Logan's disappointment and unfairness of it all, mixed with the ever present threat of you seat having the same fate, bubbles up inside you until you can't contain it anymore.

"And what about Logan?" you snap, your voice cutting through the friendly chatter like a knife. The group falls silent, all eyes turning to you in surprise. Franco's smile fades, replaced by a look of discomfort and guilt.

"YN…" Oscar starts, his tone cautionary.

But you're too fired up to stop now. "No, seriously. Everyone's so quick to praise him, but what about Logan? He was improving every race, working his ass off, and for what? To be tossed aside mid-season?"

The atmosphere in the room becomes tense. George and Alex exchange uncomfortable glances, while Pierre shifts uneasily.

Franco, looking distressed, speaks up. "I never meant for Logan to lose his seat. I just took the opportunity when it was offered to me. Any driver would have done the same."

"Oh, so that makes it okay?" his words only fuel your anger. "You just 'took the opportunity'? Do you have any idea how hard Logan worked for that seat? How much he sacrificed?"

"YN, that's enough," Oscar says firmly, placing a hand on your arm.

But you shrug him off, your eyes blazing as you face Franco. "You waltz in here, taking a seat you didn't earn, and everyone's falling over themselves to congratulate you. It's not right. It's not fair."

The room falls into a shocked silence. Franco looks like he's been slapped, his earlier excitement completely deflated. The other drivers are staring at you with a mix of surprise and disapproval.

It's George who finally breaks the tension. "YN, I think we all understand you're upset about Logan. We all are. But this isn't Franco's fault. He's just trying to make the most of his chance, like any of us would."

You feel a flush of shame creeping up your neck, but your anger is still simmering. "You don't understand," you mutter, but the fight has gone out of your voice.

Franco, looking genuinely distressed, takes a step towards you. "I'm sorry about what happened to Logan. I really am. I have nothing but respect for him, and for you. I never wanted to cause any problems."

His sincerity catches you off guard, and for a moment, you see not the driver who replaced your friend, but a young, talented kid trying to navigate a difficult situation. However, your anger and frustration gets the best of you.

"Whatever," you mumble, pushing past the group and out of the room, leaving a stunned silence as you disappear.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 709,639 others

francolapinto still buzzing from singapore 🇸🇬growing up watching Lewis battle in marina bay and now getting to race wheel to wheel with him... surreal doesn't even begin to cover it 🤯 and that fight with YN for position was proper racing - those last few laps were intense! thank you to the team for giving me a car that could fight at the front. vamos 💪

view all comments

username1 he’s an f1 driver now but he’ll always be a fanboy

lewishamilton Good racing kid, you've got a bright future ahead 👊🏾

williamsracing Our boy! 💙

username3 Did anyone else notice how aggressive YN was when overtaking Franco? Almost pushed him into the wall...

↳ username1 fr she looked like she wanted to crash him

↳ username4 they were racing for position, that's what racing drivers do 🙄

username5 the way he always mentions YN in his posts but she never acknowledges him 👀

username6 that move from YN was unnecessarily aggressive, could've ended badly

landonorris Great drive mate!

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 2,370,739 others

f1 BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo to leave RB, the team have announced. Liam Lawson will race in place of Ricciardo for the remaining six races of the season for the team.

view all comments

username1 DANNY NOOOO

username2 this sucks man

danielricciardo Been a hell of a ride! Thank you RB family ❤️

maxverstappen1 Going to miss you mate!

username3 Wrong driver leaving... YN should be the one out

↳ username1 exactly! she's been underperforming all season

yourinstagram always grateful for everything you taught me DR. more than a driver - you've been a big brother, mentor, and friend since day one. going to miss our pre-race dance parties 🥺🤍

↳ username3 now give him your seat

↳ username1 it's no annoying to see that drivers like her have an undeserved contract extension and talented drivers get left out

↳ danielricciardo Love you kiddo! Make me proud

username5 Gutted to see Danny Ric go 💔

landonorris Won't be the same without you mate!

username7 @/yourinstagram Maybe focus more on racing than dancing 🙄

↳ username8 she's literally P5 in the championship, shut up

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

As you step off the plane in Florida, the warm air envelops you, a stark contrast to the crisp autumn weather you left behind in Europe. Your heart lightens as you spot Logan waiting for you, his familiar grin a welcome sight after weeks of tension and stress. You missed your best friend so much.

You rush towards him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. "I missed you so much," you say, your voice muffled against his shoulder. "That paddock sucks without you."

Logan chuckles, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. "I missed you too, stinks." He pulls back, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Now, let's grab a beer since you're out of race cars for a while."

You nod eagerly, letting him lead the way. He drives you to a nearby bar, one you've learned over the years of knowing him was the one he used to go to during his teenage years. The casual atmosphere is a refreshing change from the high-pressure environment of the paddock. As you settle into a booth with cold beers in hand, you feel some of the tension from the past few months start to melt away.

"So, how's life outside the F1 bubble?" you ask, taking a sip of beer.

Logan grins, leaning back in his seat. "It's… different. But not all bad. Actually, I've got some news." He pauses for dramatic effect. "I've been in talks with a few IndyCar teams."

Your eyes widen with excitement. "Logan, that's fantastic! Tell me everything!"

For the next hour, Logan animatedly describes his meetings with IndyCar team principals, the tracks he's excited to race on, and the new challenges he's looking forward to. You listen intently, genuinely happy for your friend's potential new chapter.

"It's not F1," Logan admits, "but it's a hell of a racing series. And who knows? Maybe it'll lead me back to F1 someday."

"I have no doubt," you assure him, raising your bottle in a toast. "To new beginnings!"

As the conversation flows, you find yourself relaxing more than you have in months. You chat about mutual friends, swap funny stories from your junior racing days, and discuss the latest paddock gossip.

Eventually, Logan's expression turns a bit more serious. "So, Oscar's been keeping me updated on what's been going on in F1. Sounds like things have been… tense with Franco."

You feel your mood shift at the mention of Franco's name. "Yeah, you could say that," you mutter, taking a long swig of your beer.

Logan leans forward, his voice gentle but firm. "YN, I know you're upset on my behalf, but you can't keep this grudge going forever. Franco's just a kid trying to make his way in the sport, like we all were not too long ago."

"I know, I know. It's just," you sigh heavily, "Every time I see him in the garage, in your overalls, talking to your engineers… it feels wrong, Logan. Like he's stolen something that belongs to you."

"But he didn't steal anything," Logan counters. "The team made a decision. It sucks for me, yeah, but that's not on Franco. He just took an opportunity that was offered to him. Can you honestly say you wouldn't have done the same in his position?"

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Logan has a point, and you know it.

"Look," Logan continues, "I've had some time to process all this, and I've come to terms with it. It's a cutthroat sport, YN. We all know that. Franco's not the villain here."

"But the way it happened," you protest, "mid-season, with no warning. It wasn't fair to you."

"Fair doesn't always come into it in F1. It just happens," Logan shrugs, "Besides," he adds with a hint of a smile, "I hear he's doing a decent job. The kid's got talent."

"He's alright," you grudgingly admit. "But he's not you."

Logan laughs. "No one's me, stinks. I'm one of a kind."

You can't help but crack a smile at that. "True enough."

"So," Logan says, his tone turning serious again, "can you promise me you'll try to ease up on Franco? Give him a fair shot? For me?"

You sigh deeply, considering his words. "I'll try," you finally concede. "But I'm not promising to be his best friend or anything."

"That's all I ask," Logan says, looking relieved. "Now, is this just about Franco replacing me, or is there something else going on? You seem… I don't know, more on edge than usual."

For a moment, you consider telling him about the talks with Red Bull, about the uncertainty surrounding your own seat. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but something holds you back. Maybe it's not wanting to burden Logan with your problems, or maybe it's not being ready to voice your fears out loud.

"No, nothing else," you lie, forcing a smile. "Just the usual F1 stress, you know how it is."

Logan nods, though he doesn't look entirely convinced. "Well, if there ever is anything, you know you can talk to me, right? Even if I'm not in the paddock anymore."

"I know," you say, feeling a pang of guilt. "Thanks, Logan. Really."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 1,289,673 others

yourinstagram florida !!! is one hell of a drug

view all comments

username1 AHHH she visited logan

logansargeant Next time we're doing the gator tour 🐊

↳ username2 i love them sm

oscarpiastri No invite for your favourite Aussie? Rude

↳ username2 we need the iconic trio together again

username3 they've been friends since forever, love how they support each other

username4 Logan and YN's friendship >>>>>

username5 Why is she on holiday when she should be working on her driving?

username6 the way logan always has her back 🥺

username7 surely there are better uses of time with 4 races left and her seat under threat?

francolapinto Amazing 🙌

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You arrive at the Red Bull hospitality area in Austin, the excitement of being back after the break palpable in the air. As you walk in, you spot Max lounging on one of the sofas, scrolling through his phone.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," Max grins, looking up from his device. "Did you get lost in the Texas wilderness?"

You roll your eyes playfully, dropping your bag on a nearby chair. "Oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness. Did I keep you waiting? I was busy signing autographs for all my adoring fans. You know how it is… oh wait, you don't."

"Ouch, that hurt," Max clutches his chest in mock pain, "And here I was, about to show you something interesting, but now I'm not so sure you deserve it."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. The banter with Max always helps you relax before a race weekend, and you've missed this during the break. "Oh come on, spill it, Verstappen. You know you want to. Don't make me steal your phone."

Max chuckles and pats the seat next to him. "Alright, alright. Sit down before you hurt yourself trying to reach my phone."

As you sit down, he pulls up a video on his phone. "Check this out. It's an interview with your biggest fan."

It's an interview with Franco. Your initial instinct is to look away, a mix of guilt and stubbornness rising in your chest. But something in Max's expression makes you watch.

"Lewis Hamilton and YN are my biggest idols in F1," Franco is saying, his face earnest. "The way YN races, her dedication and skill, it's truly inspiring. She's broken so many barriers and shown that talent knows no gender. I feel honored just to be on the same grid as her."

As the interview continues, Franco heaps more praise on you, his admiration clear in every word. You feel a twinge of guilt, remembering how cold you've been towards him. The genuine respect in his voice makes you uncomfortable, forcing you to confront your own prejudices.

"Her overtake on Leclerc in Interlagos last year? That was pure brilliance," Franco continues. "I've watched that move countless times, trying to learn from it. YN's not just a great driver, she's changing the face of the sport. I hope one day I can race wheel-to-wheel with her and show her the respect she deserves on track."

Max turns off the video and looks at you expectantly. "I think you owe someone an apology," he says, his tone gentle but firm.

You nod slowly, the realization sinking in. A wave of shame washes over you as you remember your cold behavior towards Franco. "I think I do," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Max puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, we all make mistakes. What matters is how we fix them. Franco's a good kid, and he really looks up to you. Maybe it's time to give him a chance?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "I actually talked to Logan last week," you confess, watching Max's eyebrows rise in surprise. "He's doing well, actually - focusing on IndyCar now. But we talked a lot about… everything."

"Yeah?" Max shifts in his seat, clearly intrigued. It's not often you open up about these things.

"He basically told me I needed to stop fighting battles that weren't mine to fight. Said he appreciates me having his back, but Franco isn't the enemy here. He's just chasing his dream, like we all did. Logan said he remembers how it felt, getting his first chance - we all do."

Max nods thoughtfully. "Logan's right, you know. We've all been there at some point - getting an opportunity because someone else lost theirs. It's just how F1 works sometimes."

"I know," you admit, standing up. "And I've been unfair to Franco. He's actually doing a really good job with Williams, fighting in the midfield with a car that's not the easiest to drive. And here I am, making him feel unwelcome when I should be supporting talent. Some role model I am, right?"

"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks, though his smile suggests he already knows.

You spot Franco heading towards the Williams hospitality area. "I'm going to make it right."

Walking over to Williams, you feel your heart pounding a little faster with each step. You find Franco sitting at one of the tables, going through data on his laptop with his race engineer.

"Franco?" you call out. "Could I steal you for a moment?"

He looks up, surprise evident on his face. "YN? Hi… yeah, of course." He glances at his engineer, who nods and excuses himself.

"Mind if I sit?" you ask, gesturing to the empty chair. When he nods, you take a deep breath. "I owe you an apology. A proper one."

Franco starts to shake his head, but you hold up a hand. "Please, let me finish. I've been unfair to you, and it wasn't right. I let my loyalty to Logan blind me to the fact that you're just a talented driver making the most of your opportunity. I've been cold, sometimes even hostile, and you didn't deserve any of that."

"I… thank you," Franco says quietly. "That means a lot. I want you to know, I reached out to Logan when-"

"I know," you interrupt gently. "He told me. That's partly why I'm here. You showed real class doing that, Franco. And you're doing a great job with the car. That P8 in Baku? That was proper racing."

A genuine smile breaks across his face. "Coming from you, that really means a lot. You know, I've watched your races since I was in F3. The way you fought through all the doubters, proved everyone wrong… you're really an inspiration."

You feel your throat tighten unexpectedly. "I had no idea."

"That's why your opinion means so much," Franco admits, fiddling with his water bottle. "When you seemed disappointed in me being here… it hurt, you know?"

"I'm sorry," you say again, meaning it more than ever. "How about we start fresh? Maybe you can talk me through that overtake in Baku - I noticed you used a similar line to what I did in Interlagos last year."

Franco's eyes light up. "You caught that? I actually studied your move while preparing for the race! The way you positioned the car on entry…"

You spend the next twenty minutes discussing racing lines and overtaking techniques, the earlier tension completely dissolved. Franco's enthusiasm is infectious, reminding you of your own early days in F1.

When you finally walk back to Max, you feel lighter than you have in months. He greets you with a knowing smile. "Feel better?"

"Much better," you admit. "Sometimes you need a kick in the right direction So thank you, I needed that wake-up call."

"Anytime," he smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulders, "Can't have my teammate being the paddock villain, can I? That's my job."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1 and 1,667,459 others

yourinstagram rookies keeping us on our toes 😤 good battles today @/francolapinto

view all comments

username1 THIS IS LEGENDARY

username3 franco is going to piss his pants

williamsracing Our rookie giving the Red Bull a run for their money 💙

username4 she shouldn’t be acknowledging that a rookie in a williams is making it hard for her… embarrasing

username5 the start of YN and Franco's friendship? 👀

username7 the tension between these two was getting old, glad they're friends now

username8 HANDLE YOUR SEAT

username8 MY DUO 😭❤️

francolapinto Next time I won’t make it easy for you!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The private jet hums quietly through the night sky towards Mexico City. Most of the other drivers are asleep, exhausted from the intense Austin weekend. You find yourself unable to sleep, your mind still racing from the events of the day. Glancing around the dimly lit cabin, you notice Franco is also awake, absently flipping through a magazine.

Catching your eye, he gives you a warm smile and moves to the empty seat across from you. "Can't sleep either?"

"Too much adrenaline still," you admit, adjusting your position to face him better. "Great drive today, by the way. That point was well-deserved."

Franco's face lights up at the compliment. "Thanks! Though it's nothing compared to your battle with Lando. I was watching it from behind and thought 'there's no way she's going to make that stick' but then you just… did. It was incredible."

You laugh softly, careful not to wake the others. "There was a moment there where I wasn't sure either. But sometimes you just have to go for it, you know?"

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean," Franco grins. "Like that time in F3 when I tried to go around the outside at Spa and ended up practically in another timezone."

"Please tell me there's video of that," you snicker.

"Unfortunately for my dignity, yes. I think my engineer still uses it as an example of what not to do."

The conversation flows naturally, jumping from racing stories to childhood memories. You find yourself genuinely enjoying his company, something that would have seemed impossible just a few weeks ago.

"So what made you want to be a racing driver?" you ask, genuinely curious.

As Franco launches into how he found his passion for the sport, you find yourself really looking at him properly for the first time. The soft cabin lighting catches the angles of his face, and you notice details you'd overlooked before. His eyes are warm with flecks of gold, crinkling slightly at the corners when he smiles. There's a small scar above his right eyebrow, barely noticeable unless you're paying attention. His dark hair is slightly disheveled from the long race day, a few strands falling across his forehead.

You catch yourself thinking how handsome he actually is, in that classic way. His animated expressions as he talks about racing make him even more attractive, his passion for the sport evident in every gesture.

"...and that's when I knew I wanted to do this forever," he finishes, then looks slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to get carried away when talking about racing."

"No, don't apologize," you say quickly. "It's refreshing to see that kind of enthusiasm. Some of the guys get so jaded after a while."

Franco's smile turns a bit shy. "Speaking of enthusiasm, I'm really excited about racing in Mexico this weekend. It's one of my favorite cities - the atmosphere is just incredible."

"The fans are amazing there," you agree. "Though I still haven't found a really good place to eat in Mexico City. The hotel restaurant gets old pretty quickly."

Franco's eyes light up. "Oh, you have to let me help with that! I know a couple of amazing restaurants in the city. There's this incredible place that serves the best traditional dishes you've ever tasted, and another one in that does contemporary Mexican cuisine that would blow your mind."

You find yourself intrigued, both by the suggestion and the eager way he's describing it. "That sounds way better than room service."

"We could..." he hesitates for a moment, then continues with determination, "we could go together, if you'd like? After Thursday's media duties maybe? I'd love to show you my favorite spots."

There's something endearing about the way he's trying to sound casual while clearly being nervous about asking. You feel a flutter in your stomach that you definitely weren't expecting.

"You know what? That sounds great," you say, surprised by how much you mean it. "It's about time I experienced proper Mexican cuisine."

Franco's face breaks into a brilliant smile. "Perfect! I'll make a reservation for Thursday evening then. Trust me, you won't regret it."

As the conversation continues, you can't help but notice how natural it feels now, how easily you're laughing at his jokes and sharing stories. It's hard to believe this is the same person you were avoiding just a few weeks ago.

As other drivers start stirring from their sleep, Franco returns to his original seat, but not before confirming your dinner plans one more time.

Watching him walk away, you find yourself looking forward to Thursday evening more than you probably should. It's just dinner with a colleague, you tell yourself, even as you catch yourself smiling at the thought of it.

"Just dinner," you whisper to yourself, but somehow, you're not entirely convinced.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourinstagram has added to their close friends stories

replies:

georgerussell63 So that was all the giggling I heard during the flight

oscarpiastri I’m so telling Logan

maxverstappen1 Can I say “I told you so” now?

francolapinto close friends privileges already? wow

↳ yourinstagram don’t push it colapinto

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The hotel lobby is relatively quiet as you wait for Franco, having agreed to meet there before heading to the restaurant. You've opted for casual - a simple black dress that makes you feel confident but not overdressed.

"Ready to have your mind blown by the best food in Mexico City?" Franco's voice makes you turn. He's wearing dark jeans and a well-fitted navy button-down, and you try not to notice how good he looks.

"Big claims require big proof," you tease, falling into step beside him.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Lando's familiar accent cuts through the lobby. He's just coming in from what looks like a gym session, and his surprised smirk makes you want to roll your eyes. "Interesting dinner plans?"

"Just showing YN the local cuisine," Franco says smoothly, though you notice his ears turning slightly pink.

"Right, right," Lando drawls, his eyes dancing with amusement. "The local cuisine. In your nice shirt. At that fancy place you've been talking about for weeks-"

"Goodbye, Lando," you cut him off, grabbing Franco's arm and steering him toward the exit, trying to ignore Lando's knowing chuckle behind you. You knew it was a matter of time before the entire grid finds out you went out with Franco.

The restaurant is everything Franco promised and more. The conversation flows easily between you, and you find yourself charmed by the way he seamlessly switches between Spanish and English while ordering, the way he leans in slightly when you're talking, the way his hand occasionally brushes yours across the table.

"No way," you laugh, taking another sip of wine. "You did not challenge your friend to a dance-off."

"I absolutely did," Franco grins. "And I won, by the way. Though there might have been some tequila involved."

"I would pay good money to see that."

"Play your cards right," he says with a playful wink, "and maybe you'll get a private demonstration."

The flirtatious comment catches you off guard, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. Franco seems pleased with this reaction, his confidence growing throughout the evening.

The evening continues, warm and comfortable. Franco insists on ordering dessert - "You haven't lived until you've tried their churros con chocolate" - and you find yourself sharing stories between bites of perfectly crispy churros.

"So," Franco says, wiping chocolate from his lip with a napkin, "you, Oscar, and Logan - that's quite the trio. How did that happen?"

You laugh, fondly remembering those early days. "We practically grew up together in karting. I was this tiny kid trying to prove myself, Oscar was already sassy even at eight years old, and Logan… well, Logan was Logan."

"Let me guess - immediate chaos?" Franco grins.

"Oh, absolutely. We used to drive our parents and coaches crazy. These three kids who wouldn't stop racing each other even after practice was over." You smile at the memory. "We've been inseparable ever since. Though now Logan's living his best life in Florida."

Franco's eyes soften. "You really miss having him in the paddock, don't you?"

"Yeah," you admit quietly. "I do. But he's happy, and that's what matters. Plus, he texts me stupid memes at least twenty times a day, so it's like he never left."

After asking for the bill — one that Franco didn't let you pay no matter how much you insisted — you decided to walk back to the hotel. You were aware that his hand was close to yours as you walked side by side, almost brushing your fingers, but you didn't dare to take that step, and neither did he.

You reach the hotel, but instead of heading straight for the elevators, Franco suggests taking the scenic route through the garden. The night is too nice to end just yet.

"I have to say," he remarks as you walk, "you look beautiful tonight. That dress is…" he makes an exaggerated chef's kiss gesture, making you laugh.

"Smooth, Colapinto. Very smooth."

"I try," he winks, and you roll your eyes but can't hide your smile.

The walk to your room comes too quickly. Outside your door, Franco turns to you with a soft smile.

"Thank you for tonight," he says. "It was… nice. Really nice."

"It was," you agree, finding yourself meaning it completely. "Thank you for showing me your favorite spot."

There's a moment where you both just look at each other, the air charged with something unspoken. Franco takes a small step closer, then seems to think better of it.

"Goodnight, YN," he says softly, squeezing your hand once before letting go.

"Goodnight, Franco," you reply, watching him head down the hallway.

As you close the door behind you, you lean against it, smiling to yourself. You can already hear Max's smug "I told you so" tomorrow, but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 14,892 users

f1gossip🚨 Franco Colapinto and YN spotted having dinner together in Mexico City. They spent over two hours at the restaurant according to witnesses.

view all comments

username2 This is getting interesting... 👀

username3 STOP I'M CRYING 😭❤️

username4 they're just friends guys, calm down

username4 the way he makes her laugh though!!!

username5 watch how they'll deny everything tomorrow

username6 MY HEART CAN'T TAKE THIS

username8 this has to be more than just friendship...

username10 I MANIFESTED THIS

username12 focus on racing instead of dating maybe?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Brazilian rain hammers down relentlessly on the Interlagos circuit. It's barely 6 AM, but the paddock is already buzzing with nervous energy for the early sprint qualifying. You stifle a yawn as you check your phone for what must be the hundredth time that morning. Another message from Franco pops up - a picture of himself looking comically miserable in the rain with the caption "Maybe if we all pretend we didn't see the rain, they'll cancel quali?"

The past week has been unexpected in the best way possible. After that dinner in Mexico, something shifted. What started as sharing breakfast in the hotel turned into spending every free moment together. During the long flight to São Paulo, George had dramatically sighed and switched seats with Franco, muttering something about "not being able to take the longing looks across the plane anymore."

"Someone's cheerful for 6 AM," Max comments, walking into the garage as you quickly type a response to Franco. "Let me guess - Argetinian company keeping you entertained?"

You try to hide your smile but fail miserably. "Shut up and focus on qualifying."

"Oh, I'm focused," he grins. "Unlike someone who keeps looking at their phone every two minutes."

"I'm just-"

"YN," Max interrupts, counting off on his fingers, "he waited outside our debrief yesterday just to walk you to dinner. He somehow always knows your coffee order. And don't think I didn't notice him giving you his jacket yesterday."

You feel your cheeks heat up. "We're just friends."

"Right," Max smirks. "Friends. Like how Charles and I are 'just friends' when we're trying to punt each other off track."

"Shut up, as if you weren't secretly in love with each other."

A few hours later, as you prepare for the drivers' parade, Oscar sidles up next to you with his trademark grin.

"Well, well, if it isn't the stranger," he says dramatically. "Remember me? One of your best friends? Though I suppose you wouldn't know, being attached at the hip with a certain Williams driver these days."

You roll your eyes, but there's no heat in it. "Miss me that much, Piastri?"

"Just saying, used to be we'd get coffee before parade, now it's all 'Sorry Oscar, Franco already got me coffee,'" he mimics your voice terribly.

You're about to retort when Franco appears, and Oscar's grin widens. "And that's my cue. Have fun, kids!" He winks before sauntering off.

"Ignore him," you say when you notice a small smile in Franco's face, "He's the perpetual pain in my ass."

"He's okay," Franco says, standing closer to you. You're trying to get your hair in order when you realize something's missing.

"Shit," you mutter, patting your pockets. "I forgot my hair tie."

"You always braid it before races, right?"

"Yeah," you sigh, still searching. "I'm stupidly superstitious about it. Haven't gotten into the car without a perfect braid since F3."

"Here," Franco pulls a hair tie from his wrist. At your surprised look, he shrugs. "I started carrying one after Mexico. Just in case," he shrugs, as if he was saying the most obvious thing ever, "Turn around."

"You know how to braid hair?"

"Sisters, remember? I'm practically a professional." His fingers are gentle as they work through your hair. "Besides, can't have you breaking your streak because of a missing hair tie."

You're acutely aware of the other drivers watching with varying degrees of amusement. Lewis gives you a knowing wink as he passes, while Charles not-so-subtly elbows Oscar and gestures toward you two.

"There," he says finally, securing the end with your hair tie. "Perfect braid for perfect racing."

You reach back to feel it - it is indeed perfect. When you turn to thank him, you find him much closer than expected, his eyes soft as they meet yours.

"Show off," you manage to say, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing.

"Only for you," he replies with a wink, and you hear what sounds suspiciously like Alex whispering "Just kiss already" to George.

The moment is broken by the announcement for drivers to take their places on the parade truck. As you climb aboard, you catch Oscar making exaggerated swooning gestures at you, while Max simply mouths "Just friends?" with a knowing smirk.

Franco takes his place beside you on the truck, close enough that your shoulders touch, and somehow you find you don't really care who's watching.

"Nice braid, by the way," Charles calls out teasingly from behind you. "Franco, think you could do mine next time?"

"Get your own hair stylist, Leclerc," you call back, and Franco's laugh next to you makes everything - the bad qualifying, the rain, the teasing - worth it.

The truck starts moving, and Franco's hand finds yours, hidden from view between you. You intertwine your fingers with his, and neither of you let go for the entire parade.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 21,765 others

f1_insider🚨 Christian Horner spotted leaving Williams hospitality after a 2-hour meeting in Brazil. This comes amid increasing speculation about driver changes for 2025.

view all comments

username1 They're not even trying to be subtle anymore…

username2 leave YN alone challenge

username3 Franco to Red Bull confirmed? 👀

username5 WAIT WHAT

username7 the timing of this… right before quali 😬

username8 everyone acting surprised like this hasn't been brewing for weeks username11 They're trying to destabilize her before the race

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 2,093,032 others

yourinstagram brazil never disappoints. p15 ➡️ p2. proud of this one.

view all comments

username1 IM STILL CRYING

username2 MIC DROP

maxverstappen1 Proper racing today 💪🏻 That defense in the last 10 laps 🔥Love you kiddo, couldn't ask for a better teammate

↳ username1 max said SHE'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE

danielricciardo THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! That's my girl!

username3 EVERYONE'S PRIDE AND JOY

username4 she got lucky and still no win this season

landonorris Absolute monster in the wet

logansargeant THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND

username5 this is why she deserves that seat

username6 where are all the haters now? 🤫

username7 that battle through the midfield was masterclass

username8 Silencing critics in the best way possible

liked by username1, username2 and 14,088 others

f1gossip YN's radio messages during Franco's crash show a different side to their "rivalry." Listen to how her voice changes when she finds out it's him. Sometimes the real feelings come through in moments like these.

view all comments

username2 this doesn't sound like someone who "hates" him

username3 top I'm crying 😭

username4 "tell me he's okay" broke me

username6 forget the rivalry narrative, that's genuine concern

username7 MY DRIVERS STOOOOP

username8 this is the most emotion we've heard from her all season

username9 notice how she's been cold towards him for weeks but the second he's in danger…

username10 SOMETHING SHIFTED

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The easy banter has become your normal over the past week. Ever since Brazil, where you fought your way from P15 to P2 in treacherous conditions, something has shifted between you. The walls you'd carefully maintained started crumbling during that rain-soaked weekend.

Your phone buzzes again - this time it's Christian Horner requesting a meeting. Your stomach tightens instinctively. These meetings have become more frequent throughout the season, always with subtle undertones about your future with the team.

Franco: "Meeting with James in 10. Wish me luck not falling asleep in the sim debrief. Call you after?"

You: "Sure, good luck x"

The 'x' slips out before you can stop it - you've never added that before. Your finger hovers over the delete button, but he's already seen it.

Franco: "Did THE YN just send me a kiss? Screenshots being taken. This is historic

You're still smiling about your early interaction with Franco when you walk into Christian Horner's office, but his expression is serious enough to make your smile fade. You've been here before - these "casual meetings" that could determine your future.

"YN, thanks for making time," he gives a polite smile, "Please, take a seat."

You sit, trying to read his expression. Last week's podium trophy sits on a shelf behind him - your trophy, earned after fighting through half the grid.

"As you're aware, your contract includes certain performance clauses. While your recent results, particularly Brazil, have been impressive, we need to consider all options for the team's future."

That familiar knot in your stomach returns. "What kind of options?"

"I was at Williams recently," Christian says carefully, "discussing various possibilities, including Franco Colapinto."

The world seems to tilt slightly. Franco. At Williams. Meeting about possibilities. Just like with Logan.

"I got P2 in Brazil," you say, hating how defensive your voice sounds. "Started P15. In the rain. I battled with the entire grid while also defending for Max to secure a double podium."

"Yes, and it was an exceptional drive-"

"I'm fifth in the championship. I've scored podiums consistently despite the car being a nightmare to drive most of the times. What more do I need to do?"

Christian's expression remains neutral. "This isn't about any single result, YN. We need to evaluate all potential scenarios for the team's future."

"So you're considering replacing me," you say flatly. "With Franco."

"I trust you understand this is just business, YN," Christian says as you stand to leave. "We have to explore every option."

You pause at the door, turning back slightly. "Of course. Business." Your voice is perfectly controlled. "Just like my P2 in Brazil was business. My podiums were business. Everything I've given to this team has been business."

"YN-"

"No, I get it. Really." You manage a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "If you'll excuse me, I have some sim work to review."

It hits you as you drive back to your apartment - every friendly conversation, every shared coffee, every late-night text… none of it was real. Franco isn't your friend. He's just another driver who sees you as an obstacle to overcome, a seat to claim. Just like everyone else since you entered F1, smiling to your face while plotting to take what's yours.

Back in your apartment, your phone keeps lighting up with Franco's messages, each one making your chest tighter. You can't bring yourself to block him - that feels too much like acknowledging how much this hurts. Instead, you just... stop responding. Set the phone aside. Focus on your laptop, on race data, on anything else.

Your phone rings - Oscar's familiar face popping up on the screen.

"Finally!" he exclaims when you answer. "I've been trying to reach you all day. You missed the most hilarious thing - Lando tried to make vegemite pasta."

Despite everything, you find yourself smiling. "Please tell me someone filmed it."

The conversation flows easily, almost making you forget about everything else. Almost.

"Oh yeah," Oscar adds casually, "ran into Franco at paddle today. He seemed pretty worried-"

"He better focus on preparing for his Red Bull seat instead."

"His what?" Oscar sounds confused. "Stinks, what are you on about?"

"Horner had meetings at Williams. About Franco. About possibilities. Sound familiar?"

"Hang on, hang on. Did you even talk to Franco about this? Because he genuinely seemed concerned-"

"Of course he seemed concerned, Os. That's the whole point."

"YN, I know you. You're doing that thing where you push people away before they can hurt you. But stinks, I really don't think-"

"I have to go. Sim data to review."

"At least talk to him-"

You end the call, turning back to your laptop. Three races left. Three chances to prove everyone wrong. No more distractions, no more letting your guard down.

You'll do it the only way that matters in F1 - on track, where lap times speak louder than friendly texts, and championship points mean more than shared coffee breaks.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You've managed three weeks. Three weeks of perfectly crafted indifference, of calling him "the Williams driver" in interviews, of taking different routes through the paddock just to avoid those chance encounters that used to make your heart skip. Three weeks of pretending you don't miss his stupid sparkle messages, or the way he always saves you a coffee during early practice sessions.

But now your hands won't stop shaking as you stare at your dark phone screen, trying to ignore the screens showing the mangled Williams in the Las Vegas Strip. You've watched the replay seventeen times without meaning to, each time feeling your heart stop at the impact.

"This is getting ridiculous," Max's voice is quiet beside you, making you jump. You didn't even hear him approach. "Stop with this nonsense."

"I'm fine," you respond automatically, thumb still pretending to scroll on your black screen. "Just checking the timing sheets."

"Your phone isn't even on." Max's hand appears, gently taking the phone from your trembling grip. "They've taken him to UMC. Just go."

"I can't," you whisper, finally looking up at your teammate. You hate how your voice catches. "Everyone will—"

"Who cares what everyone will say?" Max interrupts, already reaching for your bag. "Hannah's got a car waiting. Go."

"I don't want to," you protest weakly, but even you can hear how unconvincing it sounds. "I don't need to—"

"Stop," Max's voice is firm but gentle. "You're not going back to this. Not after everything. You care about him, stop pretending you don't."

You take a shaky breath, then nod once. You're out of the garage before you can change your mind and rebuild those walls you've spent three weeks perfecting. Because Max is right – you do care. You care so much it terrifies you. And right now, nothing else matters except knowing he's okay.

You hate hospitals. You've spent too many hours in them after your own crashes, but somehow this is worse. Standing outside his room, you're suddenly unsure of everything. Three weeks of carefully constructed distance seems ridiculous now.

"You can come in instead of hovering at the door," Franco's voice carries from inside, slightly hoarse but still holding that hint of amusement that always used to drive you crazy. "Unless you're planning to run away again."

You step inside, trying to maintain some composure even as your heart clenches at the sight of him. "I wasn't running away," you say automatically, but it sounds weak even to your ears.

"No?" He raises an eyebrow, wincing slightly at the movement. "So you just happened to take different paddock routes?"

"Franco—"

"It's back to Franco now? Not 'the Williams driver'?" There's hurt beneath his teasing tone, and it makes your chest tight. "That last interview was particularly cold, by the way. Very convincing."

You stay by the door, arms crossed. "I thought that's what everyone wanted. Space. Distance. Rivalry."

"You're here now though."

"Max made me come," you lie.

"Sure he did." Franco's small smile tells you he sees right through you. "Nothing to do with how many times you asked if I was okay over the radio?"

You feel your cheeks heat up. Of course he's heard the radio already. "I would have asked about any driver."

"YN," his voice softens, and it breaks something in you. "Stop pretending. Please. I miss my friend."

The last words hit you hard, and you finally let your arms drop, taking a step closer. "I miss you too," you whisper, and it feels like admitting defeat and victory all at once. "I was so scared when I saw the crash."

"Come here," he says quietly, patting the edge of the bed.

You hesitate for just a moment before crossing the room, carefully sitting beside him. "I'm sorry," you say softly. "For these past weeks. For being harsh. For—"

"I know," he interrupts, his hand finding yours. "I know. But you're here now."

You squeeze his hand gently, feeling the walls you've built crumbling completely. "You could have died today and I would have never—" you stop yourself, running your thumb over his knuckles without thinking. "All because of this stupid seat."

Franco's quiet for a moment, then lets out a small laugh that turns into a wince. "Is that what you think? That I'm after your seat?"

"Aren't you?" You try to pull your hand away but he holds on. "The meetings with Christian, the—"

"YN," he interrupts, waiting until you look at him. "I never got any offers from RedBull.”

You freeze. "What?"

"I'm not taking your seat," he says softly. "In fact, I still don't have a seat."

"But...the meetings with Horner?" You're struggling to process this. "He basically told me they were considering options for next season, and those options were you in my seat."

"Sounds to me that he was pressuring you." His eyes hold yours. "My team had meetings with RedBull, yes. But we never got a solid offer, not even for VCARB."

You feel slightly dizzy. Three weeks of avoiding him, of building up walls, of convincing yourself he was just another driver trying to take your seat...

"I'm an idiot, aren't I?" you finally manage.

"Well, you've taken the long way through the paddock just to avoid me," he teases, then becomes serious. "I wouldn't hurt you like that. You know that. Or at least, you used to."

"I got scared," you admit quietly. "When I heard about the meetings, I just... it was easier to push you away than to admit that I care about you."

The silence that follows feels heavy with everything unsaid. Finally, Franco squeezes your hand gently.

"Well," he says softly, "nearly dying seems to have worked out well for me then."

"That's not funny," but you're fighting a smile.

"Made you come see me though, didn't it?"

"I hate you," but there's no heat in it.

"No, you don't," he says confidently. "You just admitted you care about me. No taking it back now."

You roll your eyes but don't deny it. "How are you feeling, really?"

"Like I crashed a car at 200mph," he grins, then softens. "Better now though."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1 and 1,908,479 others

yourinstagram champion x4 🏆so proud to be part of this journey. no one deserves it more than you @/maxverstappen1. thank you for being the best teammate anyone could ask for, on and off track.

view all comments

username1 IM CRYINGGGGG

username2 this is my family

maxverstappen1 Couldn't ask for a better teammate and bonus little sister. Thanks for having my back all season 💪🏻

↳ username1 HE SAID SHE'LL ALWAYS BE MY TEAMMATE

danielricciardo Look at my kids making me proud 🥹

christianhorner Fantastic team effort all year. Proud of both of you.

↳ username1 FIX HER CAR AND STOP FEEDING HER TO THE PRESS!!

username5 the way max waited to celebrate until she crossed the finish line

username6 remember when they said they wouldn't get along

username7 brother sister energy we love to see it

francolapinto Amazing work 🙌

↳ username8 bro ready to take her seat

username9 their relationship is too pure. max adores her like she's his little sister and yn would take a murder charge for him pretty much

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

After showering and changing post-race, you're walking back to your hotel room when your phone buzzes. Franco's name lights up the screen: "Hey... could you come to my room? Need to get my mind off today. Room 412."

You hesitate only briefly before responding. After everything that's happened - the crash, the hospital, the conversations that followed - things between you have felt different.

Qatar had been grueling, you managed to score a solid P4 but the story for Franco had been different. He was part of a collision during turn one that ended his race right there. You heard it on the radio and your heart couldn't help but ache for him.

When you knock, Franco opens the door looking drained, his usual spark dimmed by the day's events. He's changed into soft sweatpants and a team shirt, hair still damp from his shower.

"That bad, huh?" you say softly, following him into the room.

He drops onto the bed with a sigh. "First lap incidents are the worst. All that preparation, all those hours in the sim… gone in seconds."

You settle into the armchair across from him. "I saw the replay. That wasn't your fault - Hulkenberg came across way too aggressively."

"Doesn't matter whose fault it was. Points are points, and I need them." He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've come to recognize as stress. "The pressure's getting intense. Everyone keeps asking about next year's plans, and I just… I don't know."

"Hey," you say gently, moving to sit beside him. "You're one of the most talented drivers out there. Everyone sees it."

"Do they?" His voice is uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Because right now it feels like every mistake is being magnified. One DNF and suddenly everyone's questioning if I deserve the seat."

"I know that feeling too well," you admit. "I mean, I spent three weeks avoiding you because I thought you were after my seat."

That draws a small laugh from him. "Not my finest moment in the hospital, guilt-tripping you about it."

"It worked though, didn't it?" you nudge his shoulder playfully, "Plus, I guilt tripped you about Logan's seat for the longest time, it's only fair."

"Yeah, well, I was desperate. Do you know how hard it was watching you take different routes through the paddock just to avoid me?"

"About as hard as it was taking those routes," you say softly. "I missed you."

"You did manage to find some creative paths though," he teases, his mood lightening slightly. "I particularly enjoyed watching you duck behind Lando in the airport."

"I did not duck!"

"You absolutely did. Practically dove behind him. Poor guy had no idea why you suddenly needed an urgent conversation about sim settings."

You feel your cheeks heat up. "Well, what about you? Mr. 'Oh sorry, I didn't see you there' when we literally made eye contact in the media pen?"

"That was Oscar's fault! He told me my hair looked weird and I got distracted."

"Your hair always looks weird."

He gasps in mock offense. "Take that back! This hair has its own fan accounts."

"Yeah, horror fan accounts maybe," you tease.

"Says the person who needed my expert braiding skills before races."

"Which you learned from your sisters, if I remember correctly?"

His expression softens. "Actually… I might have YouTube'd it after Mexico."

That catches you off guard. "You… what?"

"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish. "Spent like three hours practicing on a rope I found in the gym. Alex caught me and wouldn't stop laughing."

"That's…" you feel something warm bloom in your chest. "That's actually really sweet."

"Don't tell anyone," he grins. "I have a reputation to maintain."

"Oh yeah? What reputation is that?"

"You know, cool, mysterious, definitely not the type to watch hair braiding tutorials."

You laugh. "Hate to break it to you, but anyone who's seen you try to work the coffee machine knows you're not mysterious."

"That machine is complicated!"

"It has three buttons!"

"Three very confusing buttons," he protests. "Besides, you're the one who always shows up right when I'm struggling with it."

"Pure coincidence."

"Right," he smirks. "Just like how you 'coincidentally' started showing up earlier to breakfast after I mentioned that's when I usually go?"

You feel your cheeks warm again. "I just… wanted to beat the rush."

"The rush of exactly two other drivers who eat that early?"

"Shut up," you mutter, but you're smiling.

The air between you changes, becomes charged with everything unsaid. You're suddenly very aware of how close you're sitting, how his eyes have dropped to your lips.

He doesn't say anything else, instead, he leans forward and kisses you, soft and careful, like he's afraid you might pull away. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you feel yourself melting into the touch.

When he pulls back, you blink at him, slightly dazed. "You kissed me."

His familiar smirk returns, though his eyes remain soft. "Well done, Sherlock."

You roll your eyes at his sass, but can't help smiling. This time, you're the one who leans in, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss is deeper, more certain. His hand slides into your hair as you press closer, and you feel him smile against your mouth.

"You know," he says softly, playing with a strand of your hair, "besides being one of my racing idols, you've also always been my crush."

You pull back slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Don't let it go to your head," he grins.

"Oh my god," you laugh. "You were such a fan! Did you have posters too?"

He groans, hiding his face in your shoulder. "I'm never telling you anything again."

"No, no, this is great," you tease. "I'm just a year and a half older than you, Colapinto, and you completely idolized me."

"I hate you," he mumbles into your shoulder.

"No you don't," you say confidently. "You just admitted you had a crush on me."

He lifts his head, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. "Still do, actually. Although the real you is much more annoying than poster you."

"Poster me didn't call you out on your coffee machine struggles."

"Poster you was much nicer," he agrees, but he's smiling as he leans in to kiss you again.

This kiss is slower, deeper, filled with everything you've both been holding back. When you finally pull apart, you rest your forehead against his.

"Been wanting to do that for a while," he admits softly.

"Even when I was avoiding you? Or giving you crap to defend my best friend's honor?"

"Especially then. Do you know how adorable you looked trying to pretend you didn't see me in the paddock?"

"Shut up," you laugh.

"Never," he grins, pulling you closer. "I have years of fan stories to make up for."

You kiss him again just to shut him up, but you can feel him smiling against your lips, and you think maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you're meant to be.

"You're never going to let me live down the fan thing, are you?" he asks when you break apart.

"Not a chance," you smirk. "I bet Alex has pictures of you practicing those braids too."

"Don't you dare!"

But you're already reaching for your phone, laughing as he tries to grab it from you, and somehow you end up tangled together on the bed, both laughing too hard to care about anything else.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You're halfway through your coffee when Franco appears, wearing his team polo and that signature grin that used to irritate you but now makes your stomach flutter. It's still surreal how much has changed - from despising him for taking Logan's seat, to avoiding him over your seat rumors, to… whatever this is now. He slides into the seat next to you, leaning in for a kiss. You quickly place a hand on his chest, pushing him back playfully.

"Easy there, hotshot," you tease. "Let's keep it professional."

"Professional?" He raises an eyebrow, that mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, don't be shy now. Not after last week."

You feel your cheeks warm at the memory. "Last week was different. We were alone."

"Oh, so that's the rule? Only when we're alone?" He leans closer, lowering his voice. "Should we discuss what else happened when we were alone?"

"Franco!" You swat his arm, but you're fighting a smile.

"What? I'm just saying, for someone who used to avoid me like I had the plague, you sure changed your tune."

"Yeah, well," you stir your coffee, trying to maintain your composure, "turns out you're not as annoying as I thought."

"High praise," he chuckles. "Remember when you wouldn't even look at me in driver briefings?"

"Remember when you replaced my best friend and then tried to steal my seat?"

"I didn't try to steal your seat!" he protests. "That was all media speculation."

Before you can respond, Max drops into the seat across from you, already looking amused at finding you two together.

"Well, well," he says, reaching for the coffee pot. "If it isn't my favorite teammate and her… what are we calling this now?"

You roll your eyes. "We're calling it none of Max's business."

"Everything is Max's business," Max says cheerfully. "Especially when said business involves my teammate getting cozy with the competition."

Franco's phone buzzes and his expression shifts slightly as he reads the message, and you catch that flicker of worry he's been trying to hide all weekend. The weight of it being potentially his last race in F1 has been hanging over both of you.

"Engineers?" you ask softly.

"Yeah," he sighs. "Last pre-race meeting of the season. Hopefully not my last ever," he adds, attempting a joke that falls flat.

You reach for his hand under the table, giving it a quick squeeze. "Hey, you've shown what you can do this year. The pace is there, the talent is there-"

"The results aren't," he cuts in, running his free hand through his hair. "DNF and crashes don't exactly scream 'keep me for next year.'"

"The car's been shit though," Max speaks up, "Everyone knows that. You've outqualified your teammate and scored points."

"Try telling that to the team principals," Franco says, attempting a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Anyway, better go before they add 'chronically late' to my resume." He stands, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "See you later?"

"Of course," you say softly. "Good luck in the meeting."

Once Franco leaves, Max leans forward, "Okay, spill. Everything. Now."

"There's nothing to spill."

"Nothing to spill?" Max scoffs. "Last month you were convinced he was plotting to take your seat, and now he's kissing you goodbye at breakfast? That's not nothing."

"You don't need to know everything about my life, Max," you try to busy yourself with your coffee, that's pretty much cold by now.

"I'm the older brother you never wanted but got stuck with anyway, so I do need to know about these things."

You sigh, knowing he won't let this go. "Fine. After Qatar, things changed. We… spent time together."

"Spent time together?" Max wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"Not like that!" you protest, then lower your voice. "Well, not just like that. We talked a lot. About everything again - the rumors, the misunderstandings, why I was so angry about Logan, and… I don't know. It's different now. Good different. When I'm with him, everything just feels…" you trail off, searching for the right words.

"Right?" Max supplies, his teasing tone softening.

"Yeah," you admit. "Which makes this whole situation even harder. If he doesn't get a seat…"

"Then you'll figure it out," Max says, "But let's not write him off yet. Season's not over until the checkered flag."

You nod, but can't help glancing at the door Franco left through. "You know what's ironic?" you say, turning back to Max. "A few months ago, I was worried about him taking my seat. Now I'd give anything for him to have one, anywhere on the grid."

Max smiles knowingly. "Amazing what a few kisses can do."

"It's not just that," you protest. "He deserves to be here. He's so talented-"

"And you're completely smitten," Max interrupts, grinning.

"Shut up," You throw a napkin at him. "I'm getting a new teammate next year," you declare.

"No you're not," Max laughs. "You love me." He pauses, suddenly looking both nervous and excited. "Actually… want to know a secret?"

Something in his tone makes you lean forward. "Always."

"Kelly's pregnant," he says, a huge grin spreading across his face. "We just found out last month"

You practically leap across the table to hug him, nearly knocking over both your coffees in the process. "Oh my god! Max! I'm going to be an auntie!"

He laughs, hugging you back. "Actually…" he pulls back slightly to look at you, "What do you think about being a godmother?"

Your eyes widen. "Are you serious?"

"Of course," he grins. "Who else would I trust to teach my kid how to properly terrorize the paddock?"

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm going to spoil them so much," you warn, hugging him again. "Like, an absolutely ridiculous amount."

"I know," he laughs. "That's kind of counting on it."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Just family for now," he says. "And you, obviously. Because you are family."

You're definitely crying now. "I hate you for making me cry before a race weekend."

"Sure you do," he grins. "Just like you hate Franco, right?"

You wipe your eyes, deciding to ignore his comment. "God, I can't believe you're going to be a dad!"

"Me neither," he admits, and there's something soft and vulnerable in his expression that makes your heart squeeze. "It's scary but… in a good way, you know?"

"You're going to be amazing," you tell him seriously. "The best dad ever."

His smile turns mischievous. "Just wait until Franco gets you pregnant-"

"And that's my cue to leave," you gather your things. "Congratulations again, future dad. I love you, even when you're the worst."

His laughter follows you out of the room. "Love you too, future godmother!"

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, francolapinto and 2,099,437 others

yourinstagram ABU DHABI WINNER! 🏆✨ still feels surreal to type those words. to win the last race of the season, after everything… no words can describe this feeling. thank you to every single person who never stopped believing in me, even when things got tough. to my incredible team - this one's for you. we did it! 🧡

view all comments

username1 SHE FUCKING DID IT

username2 first win of the season in the last race - poetic justice

username3 the way everyone doubted her at the start of the season and now look at her QUEEN BEHAVIOR

logansargeant YESSSS! That move was legendary! So proud of you!

username4 this feels so RIGHT

francolapinto Mi campeona 🖤 That last lap move was 🔥

↳ username1 IM CRYING OMFG

↳ username2 THEY'RE SO TOGETHER I DON'T MAKE THE RULES

username5 brb i'll be crying while i watch that video of her hugging franco

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You're still riding the high of your Abu Dhabi win as you unlock your apartment door. Your first win of the season, in the last race - it feels poetic, somehow. Like a final "fuck you" to everyone who doubted you, who questioned your seat, who spent the entire season speculating about your future.

The trophy sits in your bag, along with the champagne bottle Charles insisted you keep. Franco follows you in, still wearing that soft smile he's had since he watched you cross the finish line.

He's staying at your apartment since he doesn't have a place in Monaco and the now traditional drivers dinner is happening, after all you time together, inviting him over felt...natural.

The past few days have been a whirlwind - the podium, the celebrations, the multiple kisses stolen in your motorhome between media duties. The flight to Monaco where you both pretended to sleep but kept "accidentally" touching hands. It should feel fast, rushed, but somehow it just feels right.

"Still can't believe you pulled that move on the last lap," Franco says, dropping his bags by the door. "Even Max was impressed, I think you broke his brain a little."

"Speaking of broken, try not to destroy anything while you're here," you tease. "Some of us actually live in Monaco full-time."

Franco turns to you with mock offense. "When have I ever broken anything?"

"Do you want the list chronologically or alphabetically?" you raise an eyebrow. "Because I distinctly remember a certain incident with Lewis' scooter…"

"That was a manufacturing defect and you know it," he protests, moving closer.

"Sure it was," you laugh. "Just like the tablet in Singapore was a 'technical malfunction'?"

He's close enough now that you can smell his cologne, the same one that's been driving you crazy since Qatar. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Never," you confirm, but your voice comes out softer than intended because he's looking at you the way he has been since that first kiss in his room - like you're something precious.

"Guest room's down the hall," you say quickly, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "Bathroom's across from it, you know the drill."

Franco raises an eyebrow, that mischievous glint in his eyes that you're starting to know too well. "You're really going to make me take the guest room? After all our bonding?"

"Bonding?" you scoff. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"Well, what would you call making out in your motorhome? And the plane bathroom? And-"

You cut him off by pressing your hand to his mouth. "Those were… moments of weakness."

He kisses your palm before moving your hand, and the simple gesture shouldn't make your heart race like it does. "Lots of moments."

"I was emotionally vulnerable," you argue weakly.

"Uh-huh," he steps closer, backing you against the wall. "And now?Are you emotionally vulnerable now?" His hands find your waist, and you try to ignore how right they feel there.

"I'm…" you start, but then he's kissing you, slow and deep, and you forget what you were going to say.

When he pulls back, you're both breathing heavily. "We should get ready for dinner," you manage.

"We should," he agrees, but kisses you again.

"Franco," you mumble against his lips. "We're already late."

"Five more minutes," he murmurs, trailing kisses down your neck.

It ends up being fifteen minutes before you finally push him away, your lips swollen and hair slightly messed up.

"Guest room," you point firmly. "Get changed."

He grins, stealing one last quick kiss before grabbing his bag. "Yes, boss."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourinstagram has added to their close friends story

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You arrive at Lewis' Monaco penthouse a fashionably acceptable ten minutes late, Franco's hand resting casually on your lower back as the elevator opens to the top floor. The space is already filled with the familiar chatter of your fellow drivers, the city lights twinkling through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Look who finally made it," Charles calls out, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Got lost on the way from your apartment? It's only three blocks…"

"Traffic," you say smoothly, ignoring Franco's poorly concealed laugh beside you.

"Must have been terrible," Alex joins in, eyes twinkling. "Considering you live literally around the corner."

Lewis appears, saving you from having to respond. He hugs you warmly before turning to Franco with a grin. "No scooters allowed inside this time, mate."

"That was one time!" Franco protests as everyone laughs. "And it was definitely faulty manufacturing."

The evening flows easily, conversation and wine flowing freely as everyone celebrates the end of another season. You find yourself constantly aware of Franco's presence - the way he automatically hands you your favorite wine, how his hand finds yours under the table, the soft looks he gives you when he thinks no one's watching.

(They're all watching. These are racing drivers - subtlety isn't their strong suit.)

"Get together, everyone!" you call out later, holding up your phone. "I want a picture."

There's the usual chaos of twenty-odd drivers trying to arrange themselves, plenty of shoving and laughing as everyone finds their spot. Franco ends up behind you, his chest pressed against your back, hands resting lightly on your waist.

"Alright, someone else take it," Lando announces. "YN's too busy making heart eyes at Franco to frame it properly."

"I am not-"

"You kind of are," Pierre interrupts with a grin.

"Just like in Abu Dhabi," Oscar adds. "And the flight home. And baggage claim. And-"

"I hate all of you."

The night continues with more conversation, more drinks, and constant teasing from your friends. Even Charles joins in, muttering something about "finally dealing with all that sexual tension in the briefings."

By the time you leave, you're both pleasantly tipsy, walking back to your apartment with slightly unsteady steps. The moment your door closes behind you, the atmosphere shifts.

"So," he says finally, stepping closer. "About that guest room…"

"What about it?" you ask, but you're already moving toward him.

"I'm thinking," he cups your face with one hand, "that it would be a shame to use it."

"Would it?"

"Mhmm," he's close enough now that you can feel his breath on your lips. "Especially when the winner deserves proper celebrations."

"Or maybe you're just being a horndog," you tease, even as your hands find their way to his chest.

"Maybe," he concedes. "Or maybe I just can't stop thinking about kissing you."

Your breath catches. "You've already kissed me plenty today."

"Not enough," he murmurs, then proves his point by capturing your lips with his.

The kiss is different from all the others. Those were stolen moments, quick and heated. This is slower, deeper, like he's trying to memorize every second.

"Don't make me take the guest room," he murmurs against your lips.

You pretend to think about it, even as your hands slip under his shirt. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"

"I can be very nice," he grins, then kisses you again, backing you toward your bedroom.

"Prove it," you challenge.

The guest room remains empty that night. And many nights after.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by pierregasly, francolapinto and 2,044,387 others

yourinstagram i love my little dysfunctional family !! yes i'm the one behind the camera

view all comments

username1 THIS IS LEGENDARY

username3 FRANCO'S FACE ??? DEVASTATED BC HIS GIRL IS NOT NEXT TO HIM

lewishamilton Always family ❤️

oscarpiastri Never sitting between you and your lover boy again..

↳ username1 HUH??

↳ username2 oscar spill the deets PLEASE

↳ logansargeant to the gc NOW

↳ username3 LET ME INNNNN

↳ username4 im crying

↳ yourinstagram i hate you both

francolapinto ❤️

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yn's biggest fans groupchat

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You're curled up on your couch, watching the lights of Monaco twinkle through your window as snow falls softly outside. Franco's just finished unpacking his bags, having arrived from Argentina an hour ago. The past weeks without him felt strangely empty, even though you'd been surrounded by family for Christmas.

"Mama keeps asking about the foods I mentioned you cook," Franco says, settling beside you with a grin. "She's convinced I'm making it up."

"Did you tell her it's mostly pasta and those empanadas you taught me to make?"

"Si, but she says my standards have dropped since moving to Europe," he laughs, stealing some of your blanket. "How was your family?"

"Good. Dad's still buzzing about Abu Dhabi. He's watched the replay about fifty times, especially that last lap battle with Max," you grin, throwing your legs over his lap. "How was home?"

"Hot," he sighs contentedly. "Really hot. Nothing like a proper Argentinian summer."

"Meanwhile I was freezing in London," you poke his side. "Speaking of which… don't you have some news to share?"

He raises an eyebrow. "How did you-"

"Carlos texted me. He's terrible at keeping secrets."

Franco runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you've come to recognize. "I signed with Williams. As their reserve driver for next season, there's talk about 2026, but nothing concrete yet."

"Franco!" you exclaim, throwing your arms around him. "That's amazing!"

He hugs you back, letting out a relieved laugh. "You think so?"

"Of course I do!" you pull back to look at him. "Williams is doing great things, and with Carlos and Alex there…" you trail off, seeing something in his expression. "What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing bad," he assures quickly. "Just… I'll be based in England a lot. For simulator work and development."

"Oh," you say quietly, understanding dawning. You'd gotten used to having him here, in your space, in the paddock, in your life.

"Hey," he tilts your chin up. "It's not that far. And I'll still be at all the races. Plus," his lips quirk up, "I hear Nice has a pretty good airport."

You can't help but smile. "True. And I suppose I could be convinced to visit Grove occasionally."

"Only occasionally?" he teases.

"Well, I am very busy and important," you say loftily, making him laugh.

His eyes drop to your lips. "I'm sure you can save some time for me," he murmurs before closing the distance between you.

The kiss is soft and familiar, like coming home after a long trip. When you pull back, he's wearing that small smile that always makes your stomach flip.

You settle back against him, comfortable silence falling between you. "Talk to me about next season," he says eventually. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Honestly? I'm nervous," you admit. "Abu Dhabi was amazing, but what if it was just luck? What if I can't do it again?"

"The same way Suzuka was luck? And Singapore? And that insane qualifying in Baku?" Franco shifts to look at you properly, "You've been fast all season. Abu Dhabi just proved what everyone already knew."

"Smooth," you laugh, then remember something. "Oh! Speaking of next year - what are you doing for New Year's Eve?"

"Nothing yet. Why?"

"Logan's throwing a party in Florida for his birthday. Want to come?"

Franco hesitates. "Won't that be…"

"What? Weird because you stole his seat?" you tease, making him groan.

"I thought we cleared that up months ago," he protests.

"We did, I just like messing with you," you grin. "Come on, it'll be fun. There'll be cake."

“You know my weakness,” he sighs dramatically. “Does this mean I get to kiss you at midnight?”

“Bold of you to assume you’ll be my midnight kiss,” you tease, even as you lean into him.

“No? Planning on kissing someone else?” he raises an eyebrow, hands settling on your waist.

“Maybe. Logan might have a hot friend…”

"Terrible," he murmurs against your lips. "You're terrible."

"You like it," you whisper back, just before he kisses you again.

When you finally break apart, he's already reaching for the remote. "Want to watch Qatar?"

You groan, but you're smiling. "I hate you."

"No you don't," he says confidently, pulling up the race highlights.

And as he starts his terrible commentary, making you laugh despite yourself, you think about how easy this is - whatever this is between you. No labels, no pressure, just… this.

Outside, Monaco continues to sparkle under the falling snow, but in here, with Franco's warmth beside you and his voice in your ear pointing out "that brilliant move you did in turn 4" for the hundredth time, you think maybe some things don't need defining to be perfect.

Plus, you already know who your midnight kiss is going to be. Not that you'll tell him that - his ego's big enough as it is.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 12,870 others

f1gossip Spotted: F1's power couple enjoying a day out in Monaco! Franco Colapinto and YN were seen strolling around today, looking very cozy! The pair, who have been subject to dating rumors seemed to have no interest in hiding their relationship anymore.

view all comments

username1 THE FUUUUUCK

username2 i don't like this..

username3 FRANCO GET AWAYYYY she's going to distract him

username4 why is this lowkey powerful

username5 THIS PLOT TWIST OMFG

username6 i thought they hated each other ??

username7 oh how the tables have turned

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Music pulses from Logan's Miami beach house as you and Franco make your way up the palm-lined driveway. The December air is surprisingly warm, fairy lights twinkling in every tree and reflecting off the pool visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Your hand is loosely intertwined with Franco's, something that still gives you butterflies even after weeks of... whatever this is between you.

"Birthday boy!" you call out as Logan spots you from the entrance, where he's greeting guests in a ridiculous party hat and an even more ridiculous Hawaiian shirt.

"If it isn't my best friend and the guy who stole my seat," Logan grins, pulling you into a tight hug before turning to Franco with an exaggerated suspicious look that quickly breaks into a genuine smile. "Good to see you, man."

"Happy birthday," Franco offers with a grin, accepting Logan's enthusiastic handshake-turned-hug. "Nice shirt."

"Right? YN said it was terrible, but what does she know about fashion?"

"Hey!" you protest, but you're laughing. "I have great taste."

Logan's eyes drift meaningfully to your joined hands. "Clearly," he smirks, making you blush and Franco chuckle. "Drinks are everywhere, food's by the pool, try not to fall in."

"That was one time," you mutter as Logan gets pulled away by more arriving guests.

Franco raises an eyebrow. "One time?"

"Don't ask. Come on, I need a drink before I tell you that story."

After getting drinks, you find yourself drifting between groups, Franco's hand a constant presence at the small of your back or linked with yours. It's nice, you think, not having to overthink every interaction, every touch. Here, away from the paddock and the cameras, you can just... be.

It's about an hour into the party when Logan finds you again, now sporting two party hats and what looks suspiciously like glitter on his cheek.

"Stinks! Just the person I wanted to see," he announces, dragging you away from where Franco is deep in conversation with Alex. "Back in five," he tells Franco with an exaggerated wink that makes you roll your eyes.

"Subtle," you comment as Logan leads you to the makeshift bar.

"Please, subtle went out the window when you two showed up holding hands like teenagers at prom," he snorts, mixing drinks with practiced ease. "Speaking of which..."

"Don't start," you warn, but you're fighting a smile.

"Me? Start something? Never," he puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I just find it interesting that the same person who spent three hours ranting to me about 'that arrogant Argentine who stole your seat' is now making heart eyes at him across my party."

"You're impossible."

"And you're happy," he says softly, his teasing tone giving way to something more sincere. "Like, really happy. I haven't seen you like this in… well, ever."

You look down at your drink, feeling your cheeks warm. "Yeah, well…"

"Hey," Logan nudges your shoulder. "It's a good thing. You deserve this, YN. Someone who gets you, who understands the pressure and the crazy schedule and still looks at you like you hung the moon."

"He doesn't-"

"He absolutely does. Trust me, I've been watching him watch you all night. It's disgustingly cute."

"I'm kind of scared, Logan," you look down at your hands nervously, "Six months ago, I hated him. And now I can't picture myself apart from him. It's all happening really fast and I'm not quite sure when everything shifted, but I feel like there's no going back now. And that's terrifies me."

"Stinks," Logan says gently, "you didn't hate him. You were hurt because of how everything went down with the seat, and you projected that onto him. I get being scared. This sport… it complicates things. But I've seen how he looks at you and how you look at him. It's okay to have feelings for him."

"How do you always know what to say?" you look up at him.

"Because I'm your best friend," he squeezes your shoulder. "Now go get your man. And please kiss him at midnight so I can win the bet with Alex."

"You bet on us?!"

"The whole grid did. I have fifty bucks riding on tonight!"

Later, as midnight approaches, you find yourself on the beach with Franco, fairy lights and stars twinkling above. Your conversation with Logan keeps playing in your mind, making you fidgety.

"You okay?" Franco asks softly, touching your arm.

"FIVE MINUTES!" someone shouts from the house.

"I have feelings for you," you blurt out. "Like, real feelings. And I know it's fast and complicated and I was horrible to you at first because I was hurt about the seat thing but then you were so nice and understanding and you brought me coffee after bad practice sessions and you defended me to the press and you make me laugh even when I'm trying to be mad and your accent gets thicker when you're tired which is unfairly adorable and-"

"THREE MINUTES!"

"-and sometimes I catch you looking at me in debriefs and it makes me forget what I'm saying and Oscar keeps making these knowing faces at us and I pretend to be annoyed but actually I kind of like it and-"

"SIXTY SECONDS!"

"-and I know this could complicate everything but I can't stop thinking about you and the way you smile when you see me in the morning and how you remember how I like my coffee and-"

"TEN! NINE! EIGHT!"

"-and maybe this is crazy but I really really like you and I know we should probably talk about what this means for next season but-"

"FOUR! THREE!"

"-and I just needed you to know-"

"TWO! ONE!"

Franco cuts off your rambling with a kiss, one hand cupping your face while the other pulls you closer. You melt into him as fireworks explode overhead, your heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with the celebration around you.

When he pulls back, he's wearing that soft smile that always makes your stomach flip. "You're so cute when you rant."

"I don't rant," you protest weakly.

"Mi amor, you just spent ten minutes listing all the things you like about me, including my accent."

"Shut up."

He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours. "I want to be with you, YN. Officially, properly, no more undefined territory. I want everyone to know that you're mine and I'm yours. I want morning coffees and post-race celebrations and quiet moments like this. I want all of it, with you."

"Yeah?" you whisper, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yeah," he confirms, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "I'm crazy about you, in case my terrible attempts at flirting haven't made that obvious."

"Your flirting isn't terrible."

He kisses you again, laughing against your lips. "So… is that a yes?"

You pretend to think about it. "I don't know, Logan's friend is looking pretty good tonight…"

"Terrible," he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. "You're terrible."

"You like it," you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I like everything about you."

Your heart skips. "Everything?"

"Everything," he confirms. "Even your terrible taste in coffee."

You laugh, bright and happy, before pulling him down for another kiss. Around you, the party continues, music and waves and distant fireworks creating a perfect backdrop to this moment. When you finally break apart, you're both breathless and smiling.

"Happy New Year," you murmur.

"The happiest," he agrees, and as he leans in again, you think that maybe some feelings are worth being scared of, especially when they lead to moments like this.

Plus, you just won Logan a bet. Not that you'll tell him that.

[fivestaralien]

just a little kiss

-> chan x gn!reader

warnings+”: it's pretty suggestive so I'm just gonna say MDNI!! 18+!, lots of kissing, make out sesh basically, dry humping, low-key lipstick kink, illusions to giving head,reader is lifted up word count: 920 notes ๋࣭⭑ if y'all know the picture I'm talking about, the one of the first picture on a brick wall and fans left lipstick stains on it, PLS send it to me I cant find it anywhere and I'll love you forever!!! had this thought and I wasn't going to stop thinking about it until I wrote it out soooo here this is!! pls reblog and comment!! it helps me the most and lmk what you think! stay safe everyone and be gentle with yourselves<3

//

“It should be illegal how hot you are.” 

 Chan can’t hide the blush blooming on his neck and ears at the compliment. He shushes you jokingly while zipping and buttoning the white pants the stylist set for him. You were only dropping off lunch when Chan asked how you would feel helping him out with something. 

 “Only if you feel comfortable.” He ends after explaining the photographer wanted you to stain Chan’s neck and torso with kiss marks. They have a stamp that they normally use but when he heard you were coming, he knew the real thing would look even better. You obviously said yes. How could you resist loving up your beautiful boyfriend and physically be able to see it?

 There were a few color options and the deep red was really calling to you. Chan sits on the vanity next to where you were standing, waiting for you to finish applying it. You face him with a smile.

 “Here let me help.” He wipes some lipstick from the corner of your mouth. 

 “How does it look?” 

 “I’m having a very hard time not kissing you right now.” His tongue poked out to wet his lips. 

 You smile and lean over to give him a peck to try and satisfy him for now but that obviously doesn’t do much. He brings you to stand between his thighs, cupping your face to kiss you. It was a little needier and harder than you expected but neither of you minded. 

 Chan coasts his hands down to squeeze at your waist, pulling you closer against him. Your hands rest on his bare chest and it takes everything in you not to rake your nails and leave a pretty red trial. He licks across your bottom lip and you happily let him in. 

 By the time you pull away for air all of your lipstick had transferred onto his mouth and chin, smeared all over. You laugh at the sight and grab a makeup wipe, cleaning off his now reddened face. Chan stares at your mouth with a heated stare. The ruined lipstick all over your mouth was getting him a lot more hot and bothered than he expected. 

 “Don’t look at me like that love. We don’t have time.” You kiss his pout. 

 Before you could reapply your lipstick he pulls you back in. He places both hands on the backs of your thighs, lifting you with ease to sit on the vanity. You rest your arms over his shoulders, one hand threading through his hair and tugging lightly. Chan groans, bucking his hips forward and you gasp into his mouth at the feeling of his cock. 

 “I need you so bad baby. We can be fast.” He pleads, continuing to grind against you. You can’t deny how turned on you were, but the lunch break was only so much longer. 

 “I’m sorry but we probably shouldn’t,” you check the time on the clock on the wall, “we only have 15 minutes before you have to go back out and I know you too well to think we can finish in that time.”

 Chan pouts but nods nonetheless. He checks his appearance in the mirror as you hop off and whips out his phone, taking a few pictures. Loving the evidence of your affection towards each other on him. You finally reapply the lipstick, going to the couch to grab a few pillows to place under your knees. 

 “Baby, please tell me this is some sick joke.” His eyes darken as he catches a glimpse of the pillows placed conveniently right by his feet. 

 “What? The ground is hard and I don't want any bruises.” 

 You plant the first mark on the side of his neck, then a few to the front of his throat. Chan grips at your hips again, his breath becoming shallow as you continue to go down. The sight of you on your knees, lipstick stained mouth getting closer to where he needs you most was driving him insane. 

 “Maybe we can just use the stamp. You look too good right now and I don’t know if I can-”

 The last few kisses are planted right above the waistline of his pants, causing his breath to hitch and his stomach twitch underneath your lips. 

 “All done” You whisper against his skin and look up at him through your lashes. 

 Chan throws his head back, holding back a loud moan. You were torturing him at this point so he lifts you to stand on your feet and keeps you at arms length. He mumbles sad thoughts out loud, looking anywhere but you and you can’t help but laugh.

 “I’m sorry to laugh but does that actually help get rid of it?” You ask while picking up the pillows to put them back. 

 “If I even look at you I will cum. This is the best I could come up with.” Chan tilts his head straight up at the ceiling with his eyes closed. 

 A staff member knocks on the door to tell Chan he needs to be out in 5 minutes which he couldn’t be more thankful for. You watch from the couch as he hastily throws the jacket on, careful not to mess up the stains across his body. Luckily he was able to fix his situation in time and leaves you with a kiss on your forehead. 

 “This isn’t over baby girl. I’m not going easy tonight.” He whispers against your ear then kisses your lips. 

_

PERM TAGLIST: @velvetmoonlght

// all masterlists , skz masterlist