#he finally arrived I'm so happy
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cheese-anon-real · 1 year ago
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Look at my little horror dudes!! They are being Friends!
@partycoffin the Him has Arrived!
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dream--writing · 6 months ago
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Look at this dude
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meownotgood · 2 years ago
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aki... very handsome
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lieutenantselnia · 1 year ago
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I hope everyone had/has a nice Halloween! For me it was mostly a long work day (also the reason I didn't really participate in the trick or treat game going around, I was just feeling busy and exhausted😭 it was very cute to see though! Mayyybe going to give it a few tries since it is still Halloween in some parts of the world)
The most Halloween-like thing I probably did this year - albeit unintentionally - was getting a new f/o who fits right in with the whole haunted aesthetic, and consecutively I ended up treating myself with some merch of him💕
(The text reads "Handsome Devil" in case you're wondering, and yes this was 100% an impulse purchase)
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multific · 2 months ago
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Love Beyond History
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Emperor Geta x Reader
Summary: All husbands must love their wives. The Emperor was no exception.
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In the magnificence of Ancient Rome, there existed a love story that defied expectations. 
It revolved around Emperor Geta, a notorious figure known for his insatiable thirst for blood in the gladiator games, and his beloved wife, a gentle soul who despised violence. 
As the sun cast its golden glow upon the Colosseum, Geta and his wife, you, found yourselves surrounded by a roaring crowd, eagerly awaiting the sensation that unfolded before you. 
Gladiator games.
The air was thick with anticipation and the scent of sweat mixed with the metallic smell of blood. 
While Geta enjoyed the brutality of the games, you struggled to moderate your own emotions with the darkness of said games.
Amidst the clamour and the rising heat, you felt a wave of sickness washing over you. You were sitting beside Geta, his brother watching from his own chair.
The sight of blood and the overbearing atmosphere became too much for your heart to bear. 
Your face paled, and your breathing grew shallow. 
As if sensing your distress, Geta turned to you.
With a concerned look, Geta gently took your shaking hand in his own. 
He led you away from the frenzy, finding comfort in a secluded corner where the noise of the Colosseum was muted and it was a bit colder. 
His voice, soft and soothing, whispered words of comfort and love into her ear. 
"My Darling. It is probably way too hot for you, and also the blood. I know how much you dislike it."
"Geta. I'm sorry." you whispered as you finally felt like you could breathe.
"No need for it. I only wished for you to share the same love for the games as I do. But I see it now, this really is not for you." 
"I'm truly sorry." Moved by his tenderness, you looked into his eyes, realizing the depth of his affection. 
At that moment, Geta sealed his devotion with a tender kiss on your forehead.
It was a gesture that spoke volumes, an affirmation of his love for you.
As the night arrived in Rome, Geta and you retired to your chambers after dinner. 
The flickering candlelight danced upon your faces, illuminating the room with a warm glow. 
It all filled your heart with such happiness.
You believed, that in this room, you were only a wife and a husband, nothing less, nothing more.
No Rome, no power, no titles.
Just a man and a woman.
Geta, captivated by the beauty and kindness in you, watched you as you peacefully slept. 
The Emperor rolled onto his side watched your face in the candlelight as you faced him.
Overwhelmed by the depth of his emotions, he was awestruck by the fortunate turn of fate that had brought you together. 
Even if it wasn't fate. It was all him.
His selfish nature declared you as his wife the moment your eyes met his.
But in that moment, he realized that his love for you had transformed him. Softening the edges of his bloodthirsty nature and revealing a gentler side.
With a heart full of appreciation, Geta whispered silent words of adoration into the night. 
He vowed to cherish you, to protect you from the darkness that lurked beyond the chambers. 
And so, your love story continued to unfold, defying the expectations of a bloodthirsty emperor and his gentle wife. 
It was the kind of love that exceeded history.
People the upcoming centuries learned about the brutal Emperor Geta and his beloved wife.
Truly a love story worth learning about.
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Taglist: 
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 
@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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alexiroflife · 7 months ago
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"first day"
fluff, happy fushiguro family, slice of life, megs' first day of school send-off
Synopsis: you've been dating toji for a while now and megumi subconsciously calls you mom for the first time on his way out the door
to sum it up: you adore the little family you've come to be a part of
WC: 1,701
Warning(s): none
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"Megs!" you call out, standing by the front door awaiting the dark-haired boy's arrival. He soon shuffles around the corner from his room, throwing a bag over his shoulder with a tired expression on his face.
His father turns to watch him walk in, crossing his arms as he leans against the counter. "The hell were you doing in there that took you so long?"
"Nothing," Megumi grumbles, moving to brush past the two of you to rush to the door. "I just wanted to look presentable, that's all."
"So you took thirty minutes to get ready?" Toji quirks a brow.
"Believe it or not, dad, some would say that's not enough time to get ready in the morning."
"Not at all, actually," you agree.
Toji tugs the corner of his mouth in judgment. " Well, you should know," he says to you. "You spend at least ten years in the bathroom when we have somewhere to go."
You scoff, rolling your eyes. "That's such an overreaction. I never take any longer than an hour." Megumi and his father exchange knowing looks and you place your hand on your hip. "What?"
"Don't worry baby," Toji assures you. "It's okay to be in denial."
"We've timed it before. The last time we all went out to dinner as a family, you took two and a half hours to get dressed," Megumi adds.
"That's only because I had to shower and pick out an outfit then do my hair and makeup," you defend.
"Isn't that a little overkill? It takes me half that time to shower, get dressed, eat breakfast, and get some homework done."
"Whatever. Your sister would understand," you sigh.
"Unfortunately, she may be worse than you."
"Women," Toji tsks. You slap his bicep and he pretends to flinch, smirking down at you playfully. "Ouch."
"Alright, well, I'm ready now. I don't wanna be late," the sixteen year old says, turning back to reach for the door handle.
"Ah ah ah, wait!" you stop him. "You're not going anywhere without me getting a good look at you. Turn around, I wanna see how the uniform fits."
Megumi lowers his head and complies, turning back around stiffly for you to admire him. You press your hand to your lips to conceal your smile, eyes gleaming with pride as you look over the sharp navy jacket and pants he adorns.
"Awwww," you coo. "It fits perfectly! How does it feel?"
"Pretty good," Megumi nods, moving his arm around slightly to show his mobility in the fabric. "It's comfortable too. It shouldn't be a problem during missions."
"I still can't believe how quickly time has gone by," you muse. "You're already going into your first year at Jujutsu High! Are you excited?"
"You better be," Toji grunts. "Your uncle Gojo hasn't gotten off my ass about your enrollment for years. At least now, he'll finally shut up."
"I still don't understand why I have to have him as a teacher. He's such a moron, I doubt he'll teach us anything useful," Megumi mumbles.
"Moron or not, he's the strongest sorcerer of the modern age and he's helped out so much. I'm sure he'll be able to give you a good experience," you say positively.
"We talkin' about the same Gojo here? The one who trashed my house playing tag with Megumi and the dogs in the living room?" Toji points out and his son grits his teeth at the memory.
"Oh come on, Satoru was like twenty one back then. I can only imagine the crazy shit you've with the kids when you were raising them," you tease.
"You don't even want to know," Megumi exhales.
"Please, you came out just fine, didn’t ya?” Toji says, reaching out his hand to ruffle at Megumi's spiky hair. The teen recoils, craning his head away and shielding himself with his arm.
"Quit it. I'm not five anymore."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're all grown up now, I know. Gonna be a first-grade sorcerer before I can even blink an eye."
"Who said that I would be first grade? I'm only a first year."
"Yeah, and look at who your pops is," Toji grins. "Plus, you got an advantage that I never had. You'll do just fine."
Megumi hums indifferently, doubting himself momentarily but accepting the words nonetheless. "Alright, are we ready?"
"No, not yet!" you pull out your phone quickly and open the camera. "I need to get pictures."
The blue-eyed boy slumps. "(Y/n), I gotta go."
"I know, I know, just a few," you promise, holding your camera up to capture his awkward figure in the frame. "Okay, smile."
Megumi doesn't, and of course you don't actually expect him to. Instead, he calmly stares at the camera with his arms at his sides, unsure of what to do with themselves. Toji moves to stand behind you, leaning down to take a peak at the million pictures you're snapping.
"Toji, go stand with him so I can get one with the both of you."
The two groan simultaneously. "Doll, can we just focus on gettin' the kid to school?"
"It's fine. His stuff is already moved into his dorm. We have time."
"But-"
"Shut up and go stand with your son, now," you glare firmly up at the green-eyed man and he huffs.
"Yes, ma'am."
Toji raises a hand to his hip and tilts his head boredly as he stands beside Megumi, the two of them sharing the exact same blank stare as they look into the camera. You squeal happily. "You two are so cuteee!"
"We done, now?"
"No, I wanna get one more with Megs, and then I'm good." The boys give you a look, but you wave them off. "I mean it! Gosh, here Toji. Take our picture."
Toji obliges, grabbing your phone from your hand as you rush over to the tall boy. His expression melts into serenity as you place your hands on his shoulders and lean your head against his arm, smiling widely at the camera as a hint of a smile touches Megumi's lips.
Toji's heart warms at the sight, watching the way his son grows comfortable in your presence. The picture of the two of you looks so natural t to him like you are meant to be a part of his family, which he knows you are.
He snaps the photo and nods. "Got it."
You exhale, turning to face Megumi. You brush your hands over his shoulders to straighten his jacket, ridding it of any lint and wrinkles. "Okay, Megumi, please remember to be safe."
"I know. I will," he nods.
"And don't be too reckless when it comes to training."
"I won't."
"And try to make friends. I know how easy it is for you to push others away."
"I'll try."
You press your lips together with a final sigh, looking over Megumi's face warmly. You wrap your arms safely around him into a hug, your emotions getting the best of you. You have spent the past year caring for Megumi like your own, and watching him head off to achieve his goals makes your heart swell with joy and fear all the same.
"Text me or your father or Tsumiki if you need anything. Anything at all," you tell him. He returns your hug gently.
"Okay," he chuckles lightly and you pull away. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."
"...I know you will..." you pout. "Okay, I'll let you go. Good luck. I hope you have an amazing first day. I'll see you at the end of the week, yeah?"
"Mhm. I'll call you to let you know how the day went later."
"Please do."
Toji hands you back your phone and walks toward the door with Megumi. "Let's get a move on," he says. He leans over quickly to peck your lips farewell. "I'll be back in a few."
"Don't speed, Toji."
"Speeding gets you places quicker," he winks and you suck your teeth disapprovingly. Megumi opens the door, his dad gripping the frame.
"Bye, boys. Stay out of trouble," you wave, eyes glassy as you watch Megumi walk out.
"See ya, doll."
"Bye, mum."
The three of you freeze the second the words hit the air, everyone stilling in their tracks.
You feel your heart burst as overwhelming happiness consumes you. Megumi keeps his face forward, hiding his reddening cheeks as he processes what he has just said. Toji stares at the back of his son's head, eyes wide, before he turns to look at you to find your shocked, giddy face.
You don't have any time to reply when Megumi clears his throat suddenly, sweat dotting his forehead, and he walks rigidly out of the house and swiftly down the hall without looking back.
Toji stays behind, keeping an eye on you when you look up at him, stunned. "Did he just...?" you murmur.
"Yep."
Your eyes immediately well with tears and your lips wobble, your hands flying over your mouth. "He sees me as his mom?" you whisper.
Toji chuckles, ducking down to you with his hand still gripping the door. "Of course he does. He's always adored you. Him and Tsumiki."
"I'm gonna cry."
The assassin chuckles softly, pressing his thumb to the corner of your eye gently. "You're already cryin.'"
"Shut up," you sniff. "God, I love those kids so much. I just wanna give him all the hugs in the world."
"And you'll be able to. There isn't a better woman on this planet to be there for the kids," he kisses your cheek. "That's why I plan t'marry you someday."
"Fuck you, Toj. You're gonna make me cry even more."
"Sorry, baby. Can't help talkin' about it," he leans back to the doorway. "Let me get the kid squared away and make sure he's not dyin' of embarrassment, then I'll be back to talk to ya about makin' this official."
"You're being for real?"
"Of course I am."
You lower your hands and beam. "Tell Megumi I love him and get back here soon."
"I will," he hums. "But I thought you said no speeding?"
"Just- make sure the two of you at least get to the school in one peace."
He smirks. "Will do, doll."
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harrysfolklore · 1 month ago
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labyrinth - fc43
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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
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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 🇮🇹
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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 😤
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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.
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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 🥲
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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
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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 😭😭
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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.
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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.
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yourinstagram p8. it is what it is. ciao monza 👋
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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
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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? 🤔
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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
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yourinstagram great quali, we should have some fun tomorrow 😚
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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 🤩
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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
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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
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yourinstagram was that entertaining? 😙 so happy to be on the podium for osco's second win, i love you so muuuch you diva
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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
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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.
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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 💪
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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!
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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.
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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
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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."
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yourinstagram florida !!! is one hell of a drug
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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 🙌
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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."
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yourinstagram rookies keeping us on our toes 😤 good battles today @/francolapinto
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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!
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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.
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yourinstagram has added to their close friends stories
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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
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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.
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f1gossip🚨 Franco Colapinto and YN spotted having dinner together in Mexico City. They spent over two hours at the restaurant according to witnesses.
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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?
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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.
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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.
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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
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yourinstagram brazil never disappoints. p15 ➡️ p2. proud of this one.
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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
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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.
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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
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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.
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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."
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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.
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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
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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.
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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!"
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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! 🧡
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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
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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."
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yourinstagram has added to their close friends story
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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.
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yourinstagram i love my little dysfunctional family !! yes i'm the one behind the camera
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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 ❤️
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yn's biggest fans groupchat
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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.
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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.
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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
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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.
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inkedbybarnes · 4 days ago
Text
none of it was fake
bucky barnes x avenger!fem!reader
summary: you've been undercover with bucky as husband and wife. upon returning, he seems to have forgotten that it was all pretend.
word count: 1.6k+
warnings: two idiots cluelessly pining for each other. fluff. usage of petnames such as sweetheart, doll, and baby. lowercase writing.
note: hi, babies. how's everyone? this is my first fic in ages, so sorry if it's not my best one. i just wanted something cute ++ this is unedited & not proofread, might fix it laterrr. still hope you'll enjoy this one! xo
dividers made by @firefly-graphics!
comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡
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“i can't believe your first kiss happened during a mission. an undercover mission!
wanda huffed, still hung up on the mission you had with bucky weeks ago wherein you had to play pretend as a married couple. there had been a kiss or two during that time, and it felt impossible not to tell your best friend about it when you had been crushing over the soldier for ages.
wanda knew what you felt towards bucky. in fact, she was the only one who knew, or at least the one you shared th information with, and she made sure to ask everything about the mission, even if it took days for her to interrogate you.
“excuse me? that was not my first kiss,” you said defensively, reaching for a cup from the cupboard that you had just opened. “and why are we still talking about this? you and nat already squeezed out every information from me for an entire week.”
“i didn't mean your first first kiss!” she exclaimed, following you around the kitchen as you made yourself a cup of coffee. “you've had a crush on the guy for so long, and the first time you two kiss each other is when you're pretending. that's not how i pictured it at all!”
you had to admit, the mission was sort of a blessing in disguise and a curse at the same time. you were glad to be able to spend time with bucky in ways you've dreamt of, but there was also the horrible reminder that none of it was real. with how avoidant bucky was with you, it was impossible for any of it to happen outside of the mission.
“well, maybe you should stop picturing us doing that sort of stuff. you're way more invested in this than i am, wanda. don't you have your own relationship to think about?” you asked. although you knew she was in a happy relationship with vision, you just wanted her to take a break from all the bucky talk. “when is your man home anyway?”
“my relationship is doing great, so i'm good. i don't need to think of it as much since he gives me everything that i need, and i think of yours because you deserve happiness as well.” she smiled fondly, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “and i'm glad that you asked because this reminded me that vision's arriving with bucky soon.”
“already?” your eyes widened at her statement, completely forgetting that bucky, along with steve, clint, and vision, were coming home today from their mission. “why didn't you tell me sooner!?”
after finishing your mission with bucky two weeks ago, he was immediately sent into another mission which specifically needed him. so, today would technically be the first time you're seeing him again since you last called him your “husband,” which was more nerve-wracking than you expected.
“hey, i'm your best friend, not your alarm.” wanda raised her hands up, defending herself. “and why are you so worried? i can feel your anxiety without needing to be in your head.”
“well, we never talked after.. you know,” you replied, taking a big sip out of your cup. “i know none of it meant anything and that we were just doing our job, but it's the first time i'll be with him normally and not as a pretend married couple. it's kinda awkward, wands.”
“you were able to pretend you didn't like the guy for months, you can do it again for another day.” she answered. “unless you finally tell him what you feel?”
“oh, that? yeah, never happening. i'm not going to risk—”
“there you are, sweetheart.”
there was a collective shocked gasp from both you and wanda, recognizing that voice from behind. except the gasps had different reasons.
you were surprised with his arrival.
wanda was surprised that he casually called you sweetheart.
you turn to find bucky already walking towards you with a smile on his face.
this man never smiles unless he was tasked to do so!
“bucky! you're back!” you awkwardly greeted him.
“yeah, didn't they tell you? i was looking for you when we landed.” he said, pulling you close to him before bending to place a soft kiss on your lips like it was something he'd always done. “you okay, baby? you look pale. did you eat?”
i look pale because wanda is right here with us and you just kissed me while acting like we're dating!
“um, yeah, i'm fine. i'm fine,” you answered, gently pulling yourself away from his arms before he could wrap them around you completely. “can we talk? privately?”
he frowned, worry etched on his face, but he nodded and squeezed your arm softly. “of course. where do you wanna talk, doll?”
“anywhere where wanda isn't there.” you said lightheartedly, throwing a sharp glance at wanda who finally understood what you wanted her to do.
“oh! right, right. i'm sorry, you guys can stay here. i have um..” she paused, thinking of a reason to say. “i have to look for vision anyway. we're supposed to watch a movie together. bye!”
and just like that, wanda was gone and you were left alone with bucky in the kitchen.
before you could speak, bucky asked you first. “what's the matter, doll?”
“what's the matter?” you echoed in a higher tone. “what was that all about?”
“what are you talking about?” he asked, seemingly confused.
“you kissed me, bucky, like it was nothing. then you keep calling me these nicknames.” you reminded him. “we're back home, not in los angeles in our fake house that we used as a fake couple.”
bucky took a step back when he realised his actions, now finding it hard to look at you. “i.. i'm sorry. i completely forgot. i just.. i wasn't thinking. i got used to how we were before,” he mumbled, still finding the right words to say. “did i make you uncomfortable?”
“no, but you made me confused,” you replied. “i'm guessing you got used to how we acted as a fake married couple, but you were gone for another mission. how are you still stuck with the old routine we had?”
“because that's all i could think about,” he answered, now staring at you. “while you're back here in the tower, completely done with our mission, i was thrown back into another one, having only you in my head to pull me back up from the fatigue.”
“you're telling me that you kept thinking about us even when you were gone? why?”
“haven't you?”
“is this a trick question?”
“it's a question to find out whether you like me too or not.”
“you.. you like me?” you blinked. “that's impossible.”
“how on earth is that impossible?”
“because you're always so cold and grumpy around me,” you answered. “i think you're just confused with all the acting we've done, bucky. you don't like me.”
“i was supposed to go on that mission with sharon, not you.” he exhaled. “she volunteered to do it, so she was initially picked. i tried getting out of it, but i had advantages that they needed for the mission to go smoothly. so, i agreed, but in one condition.”
“what was it?” you whispered.
“that you should be my partner,” he answered quickly. “ask me why.”
your heart pounded. “why?”
“because i wanted an excuse to act the way i've always wanted to. i wasn't cold or grumpy because i didn't like you, i just didn't want to scare you.” bucky explained, his hand reaching out for yours. “god, doll. figuring out whether you like me or not has got to be the hardest mission i had to deal with. so do me a favour and get me out of this misery.”
once your lungs found a bit of oxygen again, you finally spoke. “what you said.. you mean it?”
bucky nodded. “every word.”
“well, i like you too.” you tried to bite back a huge smile. “for some time now, actually. wanda will eventually tell you all about my obsession with you. i can't believe we were both worrying for the wrong things.”
“your obsession with me, huh?” he asked cockily, a teasing grin plastered on his face.
“really? i said all that and that's what caught your attention?”
“can't help it. i've been obsessed with you for a long time now as well.” his eyes crinkled at the corners, a little smile gracing his lips while his arm slipped around your waist.
your eyes peeked up at him through your lashes. “does this make it real now?”
“do you want it to be?”
“you're really asking me that?” your chest rumbled. “of course i do.”
“then let's make it real.”
bucky watched you intensely for a few seconds as if he wanted to frame this exact moment before licking his lips and leaning down. you suck a breath, eyes closing as you felt his soft lips meet yours.
you never realised how much you've grown familiar with his touch and affection since your time together as a fake couple.
except this time, none of it was fake.
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should we see their time in los angeles as an undercover married couple? 👀
if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
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melminli · 1 month ago
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Ddakji Man
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summery - you were always struggling to make ends meet, despite having three separate jobs and you doubted that that would ever change. it felt like you were working out of your own casket and it would probably be more sustainable to invest in one at this point.
pairing: (gong yoo/ji-cheol) the salesman x fem. reader
word count: 1.5k
contains: slight arguing, cursing but nothing too graphic tbh
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"Are you sure that you don't want to come?" One of your friends asked you a little sadly since you were about to leave the group. They rarely got to see you anyway, did you have to leave so early? "You never come with us when we go out for a drink, we miss you there, you know?"
You smiled a little tiredly as you strolled casually through the streets. "I'm sorry guys, I just have to work tonight." you tried to explain. Besides, I'm fucking tired and just want to get some sleep before then. I miss my bed.
Your best friend pouted as she hugged you from the side and you welcomed it, even if it made walking a little more difficult. "It's always work this work that. Live a little for once, all this stress is not good for you. You need a break." she spoke up before a thought came into her mind that made her a little furious. "Don't tell me that you're using work as an excuse to cancel on us. We can do something else if you want to. I'll even invite you, come on!"
You took a tired breath. I don't have any energy for this. "Trust me, I'd love nothing more than to get drunk with you and I'm not being sarcastic or anything." you clarified. Besides, I wouldn't work this much if I didn't have to.
"All right." she gave in unhappy. "We'll catch you one of these days, I can feel it..."
You laughed softly. "Please do," you replied and stopped in front of the stairs that led to the subway. This was the place where you had to part ways with the others and you did with a few more hugs. You enjoyed spending time with them and loved your friends with all your heart, but you were still happy to be a bit on your own now.
So you plugged in your cable headphones and played your current favorite song at the loudest volume before checking when the next train was going to arrive. Another twenty minutes? The last one must have just left. You decided to just sit down on a bench and wait while staring blankly around and quietly mumbling the lyrics to yourself.
A few minutes later, a person sat down next to you and you could see out of the corner of your eye that it was probably some kind of businessman or something. You didn't look closely out of politeness and turned your gaze somewhere else after checking the time on your phone.
"Excuse me." the unknown man tried to get your attention, but as expected, you could barely hear him over the booming music. He placed his briefcase in the space between you before leaning closer to your figure and looking towards you with a smile and finally, you seemed to notice his stare and turned in his direction. You took out one of your earbuds as you met his gaze. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
The man leaned back again. "I haven't said anything yet. I wanted to ask if I could talk to you, do you have a moment?"
You looked around a little uncomfortably as he maintained uninterrupted eye contact with you. "Ehm, well..." you stumbled slightly over your words. "I'm not religious or anything, sorry," you replied, having no patience for another discourse about Jesus and the church. This is the fourth time this week, lucky me. You thought to yourself as you were about to put your earplug back in.
The salesman held a hand in the air to stop you from doing that to keep your attention. You just looked at him uninterestedly and waited, it was going to be a while before your train arrived anyway. A smile graced his face after you were willing to listen to him again. "That's not what I wanted to talk about, I just want to offer you a chance."
Your face tightened a little in disgust and you were quite irritated by now. He seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer and didn't say anything else, so you had no choice but to interpret his words. He doesn't look like that kind of guy, but I guess it's always the ones who look the most decent. "Listen to me asshole," you said openly this time, all politeness gone as you pointed at his chest with your index finger. "I don't know you, maybe you're one of those men who try to talk in riddles to seem mysterious or something, but right now it just sounds like you're looking for someone cheap to fuck." you replied as you tapped his tie with each syllable and leaned a little closer to him as you whispered. "And I'm not cheap, so you might want to look elsewhere."
This time it was you who grinned as he looked at you in surprise and he let out a small grunt after you finished your sentence. The salesman straightened his tie while watching your figure before reaching for his briefcase and revealing its contents, "That's too bad, but also not what I was talking about," he replied as you looked at the money and colored paper in confusion. "Have you ever played Ddakji?" He asked you as he took out the red and blue paper. You just shook your head. "That's no problem at all, we can still play it if you're up for it." 
Your gaze alternated from his hand to his face. Oh, so he's crazy. You finally concluded. I guess he is too handsome to be just a normal guy, huh. You turned your head away from him, something about the whole thing just seemed perverse to you. "No thanks, I'll pass."
"You sure?" He asked again, knowing he'd convinced you as soon as he brought the money into it. These people are all the same, she'll snatch the paper right out of my hands after I start talking a language she understands. "Every time you win, you get 100,000 won from me." He began, watching the look on your face. "But if I win, you owe me 100,000 won and -"
You sighed and interrupted him. "Yes, I'm sure. I still don't want to play with you, okay?"
This time the man looked at you with a cold, icy stare. A few minutes passed like this and you just tried to ignore his gaze, but then he started talking again. "All right. 200,000 won." he finally said, but couldn't seem to get your attention back. He tried again. "Is it because you've never played the game before? We can have a practice round if that would make you feel more comfortable." he tried again and got irritated when you continued to ignore him. He looked around the area as he considered his next move. Is she waiting for me to increase the prize money further? These people usually jump up happily at the first amount since they're so desperate. He tried to collect himself again. "500,000 won." he finally said. "I've got the money right here, you just have to go for it."
When is this stupid train coming. "Look, I don't want your fucking money, understand? I'm not a gambling addict or -"
"You may not want it, but you need it," he said, annoyed. This has never happened before, is she stupid? He then spoke out your name and described your miserable living situation as if you didn't already know about it yourself. "You also have quite a lot of debt for someone who is still relatively young, are you seriously going to turn down the money I'm offering you? For what, to prove a point or something?"
You didn't know what this man's fucking problem was, he should be glad that you didn't want to take his money, and how did he even know all this? You got up from your seat next to him when the train finally arrived and turned to face him one last time. "Fuck you," you told him and then went to the doors. You even looked out of the window at him as soon as they closed before you, to show him your the middle finger.
The man in the suit watched your figure irritated until it was gone and then, took the little card out of the inside pocket of his suit, that was meant for you. He turned it over a few times in his hand before closing the open briefcase with his other one. He had already played and lost a few Ddakji games in his life, which was the point of the whole thing - to recruit players for the actual game. However, the thought of what awaited them there meant that he was still in control of the situation. He was always in control of the situation. "I didn't loose, we haven't even played." he tried to reassure himself.
And yet the whole conversation with you left him feeling like he was utterly defeated.
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serendippertyy · 3 months ago
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WELCOME TO THE AMAZING DIGITAL WINTER WONDERLAND!! ❄️ ❄️ ❄️
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pomni the cute little elf lady! not entirely happy with her new arrangements she begins her quest to escape which isn't easy as she's very sensitive to the cold!
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ragatha is a tree topper angel whose the representative of the isle of misfit toys- she wants everybody to feel included and loved!
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jax is a mischievous sprite, similar to jack frost. he loves causing wintery mayhem like turning people into snowmen! him and ragatha are very close :]
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zooble is a voluntary resident of the isle of misfit toys- they feel quite comforted being around others with jumbled parts! ragatha is their best friend <3
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gangle is a gingerbread creature from the candy canyon kingdom, she is in search of adventure with her new friend pomni!
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caine is a nutcracker and the king and queen's most loyal guard! his companion bubble is a shape shifting sprite created by jax lol
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and kinger and queenie are the mr. and mrs. claus of this au! they are gentle leaders who long await the arrival of their new elf! jax is their adoptive son :]
❄️❄️❄️
this is an au I've been drafting since september and I'm so excited to finally have enough to post! I'm sure I'll be showing off more of their dynamics through doodles n whatnot, but I've been very burnt out this week so I just made some simple refs for now lol
and I'm not very well versed in making aus so let me know what ya guys think! :] 💜
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shomatoriashi · 3 months ago
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11/10/24; 09:04am
{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }
[ when you try to break up with them, and they convince you otherwise ]
featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel
queued post; published time 02:50pm
[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]
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sylus no longer had the time to be with you, filling his days with various meetings and conferences while you were left to your own devices back at home.
and when your text messages were left unread, coupled along with how your calls would always end up going straight to voicemail-
you decided that enough was enough.
knowing that he had just returned from a business trip last night, you take quick strides towards his office with your suitcase in tow. you had every intention of showing just how tired you were of being neglected by him, and that you were through with being a mere afterthought.
not even bothering to announce your arrival, you grab at the door's handle and fling it open, allowing them to slam against the walls. sylus quirks an eyebrow at you, looking away from the gun he was currently polishing.
"what's this? is my kitten throwing a little tantrum?"
"i'm not your kitten- not anymore." you hiss at him, tossing back your hair while meeting his crimson gaze. "i'm leaving you, and that's the end of it."
a flash of annoyance was seen in his gaze, and he trails his eyes downward, finally noticing the suitcase in your hand.
"is that so?" with a click of his tongue, sylus pushes aside his gun, taking casual strides toward you. when he stands before you, his smirk seems to widen before placing his hand beneath your chin-
yet what you weren't expecting was for sylus to pin you against the wall, tossing aside your skirt while sliding down your panties with his teeth, revealing your soaked entrance to him. as he inserts a finger within your slick heat, thrusting that single digit in and out of you to draw out even more moisture from you, you could no longer resist him-
could no longer ignore just how much you had missed this intimacy with him.
the sensation of it all was enough to make you toss your head back in response, nails gripping at his hair when sylus manages to hold you by the back of your thighs, keeping you upwards using his strength alone before diving into your honeyed sweetness with his tongue. you gasp and unconsciously began moving your hips-
riding his face as your pushed your aching cunt against sylus's eager mouth. using his skilled fingers, he keeps thrusting it in and out of you, drawing out even more of your breathy moans as you felt your abdomen clench in response to your incoming release. within mere seconds, you felt a rush coursing through your veins, climaxing within sylus's awaiting mouth as he groans at there pure taste of you, swallowing all that you had to offer him.
feeling like your legs had effectively turned to jelly, you nearly fell to the ground had it not been for sylus. he keeps you pressed against the wall, using his free hand to unbuckle his belt before pulling his cock out of it. you tremble, seeing the way his lips were still shining from the evidence of your release briefly before crying out to him the moment his cock impales you.
"heh, as if you could ever live without me." sylus speaks to you in harsh tones, fucking you against his wall when his hips harshly met with yours in a series of passionate thrusts. "i won't let you leave me, not when everything i have done was for the sake of your happiness."
even while he was speaking, you couldn't bring yourself to understand him, feeling his cock filling you so well that you gripped him with your walls almost greedily. as if reading your mind, sylus gives you a shit-eating grin, leaning closer to whisper hotly in your ear,
"as if you could live without this cock."
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you knew that zayne was a busy man that had big dreams of becoming the best cardiac surgeon in the world-
however, you felt like you were getting in the way of zayne achieving his dreams.
it wasn't like zayne was ignoring your calls, or remained unavailable because he was ignoring you. that was never the case when it came to him. in fact, you understood that he spent most of his days performing surgeries that would save lives-
and he shouldn't have to deal with you when you felt like you were nothing more than a distraction for him.
when evening came, you arrive at akso hospital with a solemn expression on your face. in your hand was a bag filled with various dishes you had prepared for him. this would be your final act of love and kindness for him before you broke it off with him.
arriving at his office, you felt your throat clench up with anxiety, knowing that what you were about to do was by far your hardest feat yet.
taking a moment to gather your thoughts, you breathe in deeply before knocking at his door. a faint 'come in.' was heard coming from the other side when you invited yourself inside his office.
zayne was settled in front of you, remaining seated at his desk all while appearing worn out. his hair was messy, like he had run his hands through them many times throughout the day. once you shut the door, zayne sees your figure approaching and gives you a tiny smile, "hello darling... what brings you here?"
you couldn't bring yourself to meet his gaze, settling the packed meal off to the side before admitting to him, "z-zayne, you deserve better than me."
shock was written all over his face when he stands from his seat, "what do you mean?"
you shake your head while clenching your eyes shut, "i mean- you're someone who surpasses me. you save lives with what you do, a-and i just feel like a distraction to you and your dreams. that's why, i'm break-"
however, your words were cut off when zayne grips at your chin before pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss. it was enough to make your mind go hazy, forgetting all about what you wanted to say to him when he delves his tongue into your mouth. your respective tongues fought for dominance, and you were losing this battle against him.
"z-zayne, stop, i-i can't think clearly when you do t-this."
zayne let's out a sound between a grunt and a groan, "then don't think, just feel."
and just feel you did.
all forms of coherency were lost the moment zayne places you on top of his desk, shoving aside all of his paperwork before kneeling before you. with your pants off, zayne spreads your legs all while pocketing your panties, wasting no time when he shoves his face within your slick heat.
his tongue was felt tracing at your pussy lips, making you cry out as your hands automatically delve themselves into his hair. you tried to bite down at your bottom lip, not wishing for anyone to see you in this compromising position with your exboyfriend.
knowing the ins and outs of your body intimately well, zayne was able to curve his fingers and swirl his tongue within the depths of your walls. he expertly draws out your honeyed arousal with a groan, and with a final pinch felt at your bundle of nerves, you released yourself completely into his hot mouth.
the intensity of your orgasm kept you in a daze, making you dimly aware of the sounds of shifting fabric before something hot and velvety was felt pressing against your entrance. a single grunt of your name was all the warning you were given when zayne pushes his cock inside of you, not stopping until he was completely sheathed.
zayne sets a steady pace, gripping at your clothed chest while ramming his cock in and out of you. he was panting, unable to ignore the sensation of your tight walls gripping him so sweetly when he tells you-
"i won't let you leave me... not when you're the only thing that keeps me grounded in this world."
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you knew that your boyfriend's life was not only busy, but filled with danger as well.
it wasn't easy, working as a hunter while coming home exhausted nearly every single day. and despite how lonely you felt without him by your side, you figured it was best to end things now before it got too serious.
your heart was still a wreck at the thought of it all, because really, could you break things off with someone sweet like xavier? could you bear the thought of seeing his innocent, blue eyes filling with tears as you broke it off with him?
but at the same time, wouldn't he be better off without you? where he wouldn't need to think about your happiness-
your heart jumps within your chest when you heard the sounds of the door unlocking, revealing xavier as he alerts you of his return. tired, blue eyes met with your panicked gaze, and you felt so anxious that you simply blurted out-
"let's break up."
the sleepy quality of his eyes were gone now, with xavier standing up rigidly, "what?"
you refuse to meet his gaze, afraid that you would turn into a coward and back out. choosing instead to ignore him, you began to ramble all while gathering your belongings together, "it's just, well, you work all the time, and it wears you out. it feels unfair of me to take away all of your time and i just- you deserve less stress in your life, and i'm certainly not helping, being a burden and all, a-and-"
your rants were cut off when xavier stands behind you, wrapping his arms around your front before picking you up. a flustered expression was seen on your face, and you tried to wiggle yourself out of his embrace-
only to feel xavier's arms tighten around you, ignoring your protests when he enters the bedroom before placing you on the bed.
"we are not over." xavier speaks to you in a matter-of-fact tone. "and just to prove that you're wrong..."
he hums, eyes never once looking away from you even as he places his hands down the waistband of your pants, making you gasp when you feel his calloused hands touching at the border of your entrance. "you're not a burden to me... you never were, and you never will be."
you end up gasping while arching your back against the bed, feeling xavier's slender fingers dip inside of you. he thrusts his fingers in and out of your slickness all while pinching at your clit. unable to stop him, you were only able to grip at his biceps, your back arching against the bed as xavier thrusts his fingers in and out of you. the overwhelming sensations of pleasure were almost too much for you to handle-
yet xavier refuses to stop.
he keeps on toying with your aching core, drawing out even more moisture from you when you suddenly released yourself against the palm of his hands just mere seconds later. letting out a hum of your name, xavier extracts his hand from your now soaked panties, admiring the shiny quality of his fingers as evident of your release.
curious blue eyes admire his stained fingers for a moment before putting it in his mouth to lick it clean. "hng... so sweet..." he meets your flustered gaze, blue eyes now eclipsed with darkness as evident of his desire. "i need more..."
filled with desperation and need for you, xavier grips at your clothes, seeming to rip them away from your body before tossing it in a pile on the ground. with both of your bodies left bare, xavier wastes no time when placing his face between your legs, devouring your soaked core a man starved-
and when he manages to thrust his cock within your silken walls, let's just say you both forgot about your talk of breaking up.
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"let's forget all this talk about us being over... and have you ride my face instead."
your eyes go wide upon hearing rafayel's bold words, and you found yourself at a standstill now.
knowing rafayel's passion for art, you felt like you had gotten in the way of his work. there were times where you felt like you were a nuisance to him, especially when he had to stop working on a commission each time you came over, or even called him, voicing your desires to be with him.
despite how rafayel never minded sharing his time with you, your anxieties kept telling you otherwise, the scathing voice in your mind filling your heart with doubt.
like how you were simply an unnecessary distraction for him-
that you were someone that got in the way of his work and dreams-
that rafayel never needed you.
deep down, you knew that your boyfriend never viewed you in such a manner because of how much he loved you-
yet in the end, you allowed your deprecation to win, convincing both your heart and mind that rafayel was only with you out of pity.
but when you tried to break things off with him-
rafayel simply met your gaze while demanding that you ride his face instead.
were you missing something?
"rafayel, didn't you hear what i just said? we're ov-"
"oh i heard you loud and clear, alright. i just refuse to do it." the young lemurian purposely cuts off your words all while giving you a come hither movement with his hand, "now, why don't you be a good girl and ride my face instead?" rafayel was practically purring at you, "i know my princess just feels a little stressed, and she didn't mean to say all those mean things to me."
your traitorous body clenches in response to his seductive words, with your heart racing out of his chest the moment rafayel takes off his shirt. seduction was seen in his gaze when he pulls down his pants and boxers, not stopping until he was utterly bare for you. your eyes immediately see the way his cock slowly became erect for you, making your mouth water at the sight.
swallowing thickly, you could do little than to allow rafayel to grip at your hand, leading you back towards the bed. giving you a wink, rafayel grips at your backside before giving it an audible smack, "you know what you want to do, princess."
your boyfriend was smirking at you, letting out one last hum of your name before laying down in bed. your heart begins to skip its beats as you trail your eyes down to his cock once more, your cunt clenching at the sight of how it twitched in anticipation, waiting for you.
with trembling fingers, you shakily unbutton your blouse, allowing the thin fabric to fall to the ground as your shorts and panties follow suit. when you were left in your bra, you sigh and unclasp it, tossing it to the ground before climbing on top of the bed.
rafayel's gaze turns hungry when he sees your figure approaching him. "that's it, that's my girl." he grips at your wrist, pulling your body toward him as he slides you until your soaked entrance was directly over his face.
"fuck, such a pretty little flower..." you nearly fell on top of him when his finger traced at your pussy lips, teasing you as a rich chuckle escapes from his lips. "all wet and ready for me... come on, princess, you know what you want to do."
unable to resist him any longer, you bite down on your bottom lip and land on top of his mouth, rubbing your slick walls over his mouth. you shiver upon feeling his groan vibrating through you, tossing your head back as his tongue manages to travel inside of you, massaging at your slickness.
"hah..." you felt breathless, your thighs already squeezing rafayel's head as you tried to chase your high. no longer thinking about anything that wasn't rafayel's face buried within your sweet cunt, you continued to ride him, tossing your head back each time his tongue tried to reach even deeper inside of you.
your moans and his muffled grunts were all that you could hear, and when you tried to quicken your pace-
you found yourself needing something bigger to help with assuaging the painful ache between your legs. looking behind, your eyes widen upon seeing the way rafayel's hand desperately gripped at his cock, giving it quick and fast strokes while his tongue kept delving into your core.
not even fully comprehending your actions, you lazily got off of his face, purposely rubbing your wet heat down his chest as rafayel struggled to sit up, "princess? why'd you stop?"
but you ignore his question, not stopping your slow descent across his body until your slick walls gripped at the underside of his cock. you bask in the way the veins seemed to pulse against you, making you let out a dreamy sigh when you gently gripped at his shaft.
"b-baby-"
a low hiss was heard coming from rafayel when you slap his cock against your entrance for a few brief moments before holding it in place, allowing yourself to sink down on him. the young artist ends up tossing his head back at the sensation, letting out a string of curses, "fuck yes! that's it princess, that's it... my pretty girl..."
rafayel was left a babbling mess now, praising you in an almost drunk manner the moment you kept bouncing yourself up and down his cock. "that's my good girl, such a good girl f'me...- fuck!"
you loud cries and whiny moans echo throughout the room, and you rode rafayel's cock with a reckless abandon, earning a smirk from him when he manages to tell you,
"this is where you belong, princess, right here, bouncing up and down on my cock."
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end notes: my thirst for my fave lads men have returned 🫠 i swear i had this in my drafts since early october, so im happy that i was able to think of a good plot for it just now ;A;
all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!
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temis-de-leon · 1 year ago
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Pick me girls and Dateables - Part 3
Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)
Part 1 - Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)
Part 2 - Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)
Masterlist
CW: pick me girl behavior, suggestive, mentions of sex, mentions of violence and threats, mentions of concubines (no concubines, tho), implied marriage (??), jealous mc, some fluff, some hurt, some comfort, the most ooc out of every part of the series, Barbatos's part is based on one of his chats (A patissier's suffering?)
A/N at the end.
.
Diavolo
So the Devildom had concubines, what about it? It's not like Diavolo had any concubines. You were his only partner and, apparently, the first one in a long while. You had nothing to worry about.
Still, it was impossible not to feel so dejected when every single one of the demons in his court buttered him up so blatantly, not caring that you were next to him, arms linked and fingers intertwined.
And he smiled. Of course, what else could he do but smile? He had a duty to fulfill and that probably meant keeping certain people happy, right?
At least, that was the mantra in your head. Your heart kept hurting itself, but having a reason made it manageable.
"Well? Have you thought about it?"
You turned to your side and stared at the demoness beside you. She was mesmerizing and looking at her directly made you lose focus.
Have I thought about it? I haven't stop thinking about it.
"Remember that I'm acting on behalf of his wellbeing" she said sweetly, caressing your wrist like she wanted to flirt with you "And I guess I could make you happy too"
That made you laugh without an ounce of humor. Both of you knew she wasn't being serious about that one and you wondered why she said it in the first place. Making her Diavolo's concubine would make her his wife in everything but paper. Did she expect giving you orgasms would make you happier about it?
"Leave me alone" you whispered against your drink, not trusting your voice to act decently.
"How can you be so selfish?" she spat, leaving you speechless "This is for his own good. How long will you live, human? Do you expect him to be alone after your death? My only wish is to keep him company once you're gone and starting now would make the transition easier. He'll still love you, sure, but this way he could be happier. How can you not understand something so simple?"
A demon she was, you remembered. Had you been a regular human, you would've believed her concerned face, but to you it was obvious how impatient she was and how much she wanted to leave you there, alone and breaking, so she could finally speak to Diavolo.
"MC"
Both of you jumped, turning around just to see Barbatos's unfazed smile.
"Lord Diavolo asks for you" he informed when you didn't answer, too surprised to react. "Follow me if you please"
"If I may" intervened your companion, close to giving you a heart attack "I must speak to Prince Diavolo. It's an urgent matter"
The butler looked at you, asking for your permission, but you didn't know how to react. It seemed your throat decided to stop working at that exact moment.
"Very well, then"
The demoness eagerly jumped at his words, not wasting a second in leaving the corner you were occupying to look for the prince, who had finally stopped talking to his subjects and was sitting alone in his throne.
Barbatos stared at her before offering you his arm.
"You have nothing to worry about"
He seemed confident, so you believed him. However, the distance you walked towards the throne felt longer than ever.
Your boyfriend looked unnaturally serious at your arrival, an expression his face was not made for. It softened when he saw you, but, still, he didn't fully smile.
"My love, come here" he palmed his thigh and not in a million years would you reject that offer.
Diavolo smiled at the speed you moved, barely restraining himself from kissing you. Instead, he turned to the demoness and presented her to you.
"I believe you've met her already, MC. Did you know about her offer? Did you know she wishes to serve me?"
He patiently waited for your answer, holding you against his chest and caressing your hip bones with the pad of his fingers and the tip of his nails, making you shiver.
Serve? That's the word she decided to use? She wasn't lying, sure, but it was far from the intention she actually had.
"We talked about it" you said in the end.
There was silence for a few seconds, broken only by the sounds of people still drinking and dancing. Diavolo and Barbatos looked at each other, having a conversation no one else could hear.
"I take it you rejected her proposition?"
Obviously.
You nodded and he cupped your face with a sad frown. Your heart skipped a beat.
"That's a pity, my love"
For a moment you moved away from him, too lost in your incredulity to answer or even acknowledge the crazy smile on the demoness's face, but, not even a second later, Diavolo brought you back to him and continued.
"She would've make a wonderful lady in waiting"
Huh?
"Wait, what?"
Both of you ignored the woman, who looked like she'd been slapped in the face with something rotten, which, in her mind, was probably accurate.
"I asked to serve you, my Lord, not the human..."
"Beware your words" interrupted Barbatos, his tail swishing behind him like a whip.
She stopped talking then, very obviously swallowing her opinions. Diavolo speaked again.
"By serving you, she'll serve me. Give her an opportunity to make you happy and, if she fails, we'll get rid of her"
What did he mean, get rid of her? You opened your mouth to ask, but he jerked his leg, making you jump. His smile was wide, but his eyes held a warning.
You decided to let it go.
"Okay"
Diavolo laughed as loud as he usually did, finally hugging you and ignoring both Barbatos's reprimanding glance and the demoness's sour expression.
But wait.
Wait.
He said 'lady in waiting'. Like... Uh...
Were you getting married?
Barbatos
'I'll be waiting in the classroom'
That's what his last message said.
And you'd never be dumb enough to reject that invitation. ¿Spending time with your boyfriend and eating his homemade cookies? Hell yeah!
You just had to be careful not to catch Beel's attention, avoiding the main hallways and hiding between the taller students, which were almost everyone.
By the time you finally arrived to the classroom (you got lost, but you'd never admit that to anyone), you were fairly sure all of your classmates had already gone home.
Alas, you were wrong.
Barbatos's figure was as composed as ever, but you knew him just enough to know how irritated he actually was. Were you this late? It was never your intention!
But no, no, that wasn't the root of the problem.
You knew her, kinda. Not personally, but you'd seen her a lot of times in the castle, cleaning plates in the kitchen or clearing up the table after one of Diavolo's dinner parties. She looked weird in the school's uniform instead of the one the maids used, but you guessed they too had to go to RAD, just like the brothers did.
So why did Barbatos look so uncomfortable?
Both of them stared at you when you entered, walking towards him while staring at her in search of an explanation.
"MC! You're finally here"
He smiled at you with candid eyes, discreetly holding your hand and restraining himself from kissing you in front of the girl, who cleared her throat to break the moment and grinned at Barbatos like you weren't there at all.
Foolish mistake if you'd ever seen one.
Your boyfriend frowned before turning in her direction, clearly giving her one last oportunity before kicking her out of there and reclaiming his alone time with you.
The girl purposely made herself meek, lowering her gaze as if making visual contact with him was too much, something you could totally understand.
"Master Barbatos, please, I'm begging you. I just wish to learn"
You raised your eyebrows and waited for his answer. Instead, she kept talking.
"I'll follow every one of your orders, sir, I promise" arms behind her back and body slightly swaying, you now understood why he was in the edge of snapping "The others don't appreciate you as much as I do. I'll be your best student"
He stared at her, you stared at her, she stared at him, batting her lashes with a weirdly fake innocent smile.
Her demeanor vanished when the Royal Butler spoke.
"I recomend you stop this nonsense at once" he finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence "You're embarrassing yourself and Lord Diavolo's service's good reputation"
The poor maid gaped like a fish, although you weren't feeling bad for her.
You stayed behind him, closing the distance as much as possible while staring at her over his shoulder. If you ate a cookie now, would it be too much? He'd probably forgive you, but you'd rather not risk your chances.
"You will stay on cleaning duty as long as I say and you will stop the rumors that I know have been traveling all around the castle"
She lowered her gaze again, this time in submission and humiliation. His voice sounded venomous and you could swear the room's temperature dropped a few degrees. The air was still and smelled damped and rottening.
"If the gossip hasn't disappear by midnight, rest assured, I will make sure you keep your mouth fully shut"
The threat was clear in his words, something that shouldn't, but still surprised you. The maid trembled in response before bowing and running out the classroom.
You stared at the door in surprise, not turning around until he talked again.
"Do forgive me, my dear, but you know how much I dispise rats"
He sounded scarier than ever, letting his forked tongue slip between his teeth before he searched around the room, like he was trying to find more pests.
Then, he turned to you and smiled like nothing happened, holding a cookie to your mouth as the tips of his gloved fingers caressed your jaw.
"Let's forget about this ordeal, MC. After all, I saved these just for you"
Solomon
If there was something worse than feeling jealous, it was Solomon knowing you were jealous.
You thought you could catch a break, uh? Well, you couldn't be more wrong: your boyfriend knew the moment he saw you staring at that witch.
She was cute, you guessed? Nothing exceptional, but not hideous either. You wouldn't mind at all if not for the fact that she used her appearance like a nuclear weapon.
"Oh, you're so cute!" she'd told you once "I wish I was as cute as you!"
And at first you thought nothing of it. She was just being nice! A little weird about it, sure, but who wasn't weird in RAD?
Except, she wasn't looking at you when she said that, but, instead, at your boyfriend.
Of course, Solomon, unbothered as ever, was too engrossed in the cooking book he'd borrowed from the library to pay attention.
(Later that night you had to order takeout, but you were already counting on that).
The point was: she was trying too hard. You couldn't blame her, really, you dated Solomon for a reason; but still. She was getting on your nerves.
"I'm so dumb... I'll never get it! Solomon, can you help me with this?"
Opening a door with magic? Difficult? Yeah, right.
"I've never dated a human before... How is it, MC? I bet Solomon is a great boyfriend"
He has his moments.
"Solomon! Sit with me, I saved you a seat! Why? Oh, I concentrate better when you're here!"
Shit, could she concentrate at all?
"You're so powerful! You'll have to let me have him for a night, MC! He could teach me a couple of things..."
You closed your fist, staring at her with a frown while talking yourself out of mauling her across the table. You didn't need Lucifer's rants about impropriety and self restraint on top of all of this.
"MC and I have a lesson tonight" the sorcerer said with a polite smile, unusually kind eyes and an unreadable expression "Would you like to tag along?"
She sighed and rolled her eyes, lowering her gaze in embarrassment, although you weren't sure if she was really embarrassed.
"Could we hang out alone, tho? I don't want MC to see how dumb I am. They're so much better than me! I bet I need you more than they do!"
Well, you didn't need to study with her to know she was dumb as bricks.
You looked at Solomon, opening your eyes so much in bewilderment that even the insides of your cornea were getting dry. Not a second later he turned to you, smiling with mischief, and then you remembered who were you actually dating.
"It's either this or nothing. Be in Purgatory Hall at 6, we won't be waiting for you"
The witch quickly looked at you, frustrated at his words. It wasn't ideal, you knew, thirdwheeling your crush and his partner in a study date, but what else did she expect? Every other option was plain stupid.
"Okay"
She snorted, trying to hide the disgust and disappoinment without much success. Once she left you alone, swaying her hips and her ponytail, you punched Solomon in the arm and reveled in his pain.
"MC!! Relax!"
"Don't tell me to relax!"
You tried to choke him, but he hid his neck under his shoulders before you could lift yourself to reach him better. He knew you too well.
"MC, I have an idea! You'll like it, believe me!"
"Oh, really?"
"I swear!"
Once free from your attacks, Solomon avoided your eyes and stared at his hands. It took him a couple of seconds before he could look at you again, cheeks red, while he spoke from his heart.
"I couldn't care less about her attempts, MC, but she's obviously making you uncomfortable. I won't let this keep going if I can do something about it"
"But why did you invite her to our lesson, then?"
He laughed in a carefree manner, still blushing while he took your hands in his, looking at you like he was about to uncover a precious secret.
"As your teacher, I want you to explore your potential to the maximum"
His voice lowered to a whisper and you got closer to him, letting your body shiver when his breath caressed the skin of your neck.
"Say, MC, wouldn't you like to have your very own training dummy?"
Simeon
Oh, the privileges of being friends with the most powerful demons in the Devildom.
All you had to do was pout a little and act like you were miserable, missing the warmth of the sun and the familiar scenery of the human world. Of course, all of them knew you were exaggerating, but none would take the risk of actually making you sad.
So there you were, waiting for your drinks while Simeon sunbathed outside, sitting in one of those ornate metal chairs and writing some loose ideas for his next book in a napkin. After all, you'd be crazy if you ever went to the human realm without using the opportunity to have a date with your sweetheart of a boyfriend.
If not for the brightness of his suit, he would look like a college student from an old movie, all dreamy and focused in his own world.
And, apparently, you weren't the only one thinking that.
There were a group of girls outside the cafe, all of them young, maybe even fresh out of high school, staring at Simeon like he was some kind of celebrity. Maybe it was his angelic charisma? Maybe it was just his good looks? Whatever the reason, the girls seemed ready enough to conquer the world and they wanted to start with your boyfriend.
You studied your surroundings, realizing with an uncomfortable weigh in your chest just how busy the place was. There was no way you were getting your order in less than five minutes, even being the first in line, so the only thing you could do was wait and hope the girls wouldn't bother Simeon too much.
They stayed in a closed circle for a few moments until one of them finally dared to go and talk to him. She tried to sit in the second chair, but Simeon stopped her with a quick movement of his hand, probably saying he was saving it for you.
That made you laugh, but you were starting to get second hand embarrassment. You could tell she was trying hard to catch his attention, twirling her hair around her finger and hugging her waist to make her breasts look bigger.
You couldn't see Simeon's face, but, by the way he was scratching the paper, it was obvious he was losing focus on whatever he was previously writing, which would only make him irritated.
Fortunately, and rather rudely, the waitress finally gave you the styrofoam cups and immediately ignored you again, but you couldn't care less. The girl returned to her friends just as you stepped out of the cafe, letting you know part of what happened.
"He said he didn't know what part of him made him look interested in me" she snarled with a hint of hurt in her voice, trying to hide it with offense "That I should find someone that actually finds me entertaining"
Her friends gasped and you had to stop yourself from laughing. He wasn't usually that snappy, but she did interrupt his daydreaming.
"I don't even care what he thinks, he's just some dude! I can catch anyone I want, you know?"
Anyone but him, apparently, but the only thing her friends could do was agree.
Shaking your head and holding one drink in each hand, you stopped the eavesdropping and hurried towards him, leaning over his shoulder to kiss his cheek and smiling softly when he raised his hands to stroke your hair. He was warm from the sun, but he still curled close to you even after letting you sit next to him.
The girls audibly gasped at your actions, clearly offended by your presence as if Simeon would change his mind if they waited enough.
You couldn't bring yourself to pay them attention. Not when he was caressing your knuckles with such love in his touch and a feeling so deep in his eyes that it made your heart violently stop.
"So what were you writing?"
He smiled and eagerly showed you the napkin. By the time you turned around, the girls were already gone.
Tagging the party: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae @eliciria @darkflowerav
Author's note:
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Simeon's part sucked the soul out of me (not in the good way), but at least it's well-written. Also, this will be the last part for now: I don't know Mephisto, Raphael or Thirteen enough, so they won't be in any of my posts (for now)
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meownotgood · 2 years ago
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more akis for me today
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multific · 2 months ago
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Gifts and Cake
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Emperor Geta x Reader
Summary: Your marriage was arranged but your love for each other was not.
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Marrying him was not in your favour.
He took a liking to you at one of your father's parties and now, you were his wife.
Emperor Geta truly showed his other side to you.
While people saw a raging crazy man, he was kind and sweet with you.
An unmerciful ruler, but a kind husband.
He always made sure you had everything you wanted. 
And as your birthday approached, he came to you during the day.
Bursting into the room you currently sat, reading and eating fruit.
"Tomorrow is your birthday, My Darling Wife, I wish to know what it is that your heart desires?" his question was so sudden you froze for a moment.
"I believe I have everything because I have you, My Husband. But I do know you and you mean gifts, I simply wish for cake, you know my love for sweets and if it's not too much a new pet." you ended up saying.
"A pet? What kind? A tiger or lion perhaps?"
"No, nothing like that, I simply wish for a healthy kitten." 
"A kitten. Why a cat if I may I ask?" you watched as his face filled with confusion.
"I adore them, and I wish for a small companion to be with me when you can't." His eyes lit up at your words and a smile spread on his lips.. 
"My Sweet Darling!" he kissed your hand before darting out of the room you smiled at his actions. 
He left just as he arrived.
—-
The next morning came, you woke up to your husband missing from his side of your bed, but soon, he entered with servants.
All carried presents for you.
"My Love! This day is special, we celebrate your birth after all! To show my love for you, these are all presents from me." 
"Thank you!" you smiled as the servants placed all gifts around you and left, leaving you and your husband who eagerly watched you and waited for your reaction.
You began with a smaller box, it had a beautiful new ring inside.
"To match my own." Geta spoke up and you looked at him, seeing his hand you noticed the same ring on his pinky. 
"I really like it. Thank you."
You looked at all the presents which included a lot of different jewellery, dresses and sweet things.
"I really liked everything, Geta. Thank you." you smiled as he waved a finger at you.
"Not everything. Of course, we will hold a party tonight, there will be cake as I promised and I still have one gift for you." 
The entire day went by pretty usual.
During the evening as promised, there was a party held in your honour.
You had so many sweets and enjoyed the songs. Your husband was there as you laughed and enjoyed yourself.
Caracalla was another pleasant surprise with his lovely gift. He arranged for you and Geta a lovely bath in a popular bathhouse.
But most importantly, your husband finally gave you your last gift. 
"As promised, My Empress, your new pet. Name him as you please." a beautiful white kitten sat in Geta's arms. Such a small and gentle being.
You stood up from your seat and your husband handed you the kitten.
"Thank you, My Love. I'm very happy. Today has been the happiest." you said with a smile and a kiss to your husband's lips.
"It is only the beginning, we still have much wine to drink and we will head to our chambers." he whispered the last part into your ears, and you smiled at him once more.
"I truly love you, Geta."
"And I love you, My Empress." 
You sealed your love with a kiss.
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Taglist: 
@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 
@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 
@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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indecisivemuch · 1 year ago
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Lovesick & Lovelorn
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: You thought that Luke Castellan, your best friend, did not reciprocate your feelings for him. To cope, you wrote letters addressed to him and kept them in a box. What happens when one of your sisters finds it? Inspired by 'To All the Boys I've Loved Before' (fluff, best friends to lovers; you thought it was unreciprocated feelings, happy ending).
Note: Ahh, I'm so happy the show got renewed for season 2.
Word count: 3.3k
You were deeply convinced your fate was tied to one with eternal lovelorn. 
Three years ago, you arrived at Camp Half-Blood and settled into the Hermes cabin before you were claimed by your Godly parent. It was there that you met Luke Castellan - one of your soon-to-be best friends. Though, you knew you were doomed from your first glance into his eyes. Then came his friendly smile and an offer of a handshake, where his hand engulfed yours.
At first, you thought that silly little crush would dissipate. But over time, as you became close friends with the Hermes cabin counselor, you were almost convinced he was faultless. You seemed to adore every little thing about him. Along with the fondness that grew in your heart was also self-pity. At one point, even looking at him hurt because you knew he did not return your feelings.
Hence, the letters.
In between your memories of Luke were letters you wrote throughout those years just to cope with the unreciprocated feeling. It was painful, but what else could you do? You truly believed confessing would put your friendship at risk. Neither did you feel like dealing with the heartache of a rejection. So you never uttered any of your feelings to him, continuing to imprint it on lined papers instead.
You scowled as the pen you were using ran out of ink, leaving the latest edition of unspoken words unfinished. Wordlessly, you fold the incomplete letter into an envelope and shove it into the turquoise box you bought while returning from a quest once. You neatly put the box under your bed.
“Y/N, it’s time to head out,” one of your sisters repeated. Two minutes ago, people were starting to leave, so those on cleaning duties could clean up your cabin. Since you were mid-writing, you hastily asked for a few more seconds. Now, you were the only one left besides two of your sisters.
“Yes, sorry,” you quickly muttered, exiting the cabin and almost immediately bumped into Luke. “Hey, what are you doing here?” you asked.
“I’m here for you. I thought we should hang out,” Luke answered ever so casually. Yet, your heart swelled at the thought that he was there for you. Before you could reply, you two were interrupted by another camper, who told you that one of your other best friends needed you and that it was an emergency.
“I’m so sorry, we’re gonna have to take a rain check on that hangout,” you informed Luke. You slowly started walking backward and away from him. “I’ll see you later, though?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about it. Come find me whenever you’re done, yeah?” Luke requested, hoping to spend time with you later. His soft look made you pause mid-step, almost as if your foot had been cemented to the stones beneath. You nodded absentmindedly before snapping out of that state to comfort your friend.
After two hours of listening to your friend and comforting them, you finally left their cabin to search for Luke, who previously told you to find him after. However, around half an hour later, you slowly gave up at the thought of doing so, feeling almost defeated.
As you turned to head back to your cabin, you spotted the Hermes counselor exiting his. You called out his name, watching his back stiffen before he turned to you. You ignored the odd behavior and recalled, “I’m free now if you’re down to hang out.”
“I’m so sorry, but I’m really busy right now.”
“Uhm, well, I guess I’ll just meet you at our spot whenever you’re done then?” you suggested. You and Luke fell into a routine of star-gazing every night.
Laying under the dark sky that painted your whole horizon often made you feel small. But something about that was so calming, especially considering most of the time, you were suffocated by the weight and duties of being a Demigod. You wondered if it was the moment or if it was Luke’ presence that aided your momentary peace.
“I really, really can’t tonight, I have a lot of things to do.”
“Oh… that’s okay. I’ll see you around?” you replied, watching as Luke fidgeted and gulped while attempting to look normal. It was futile, really, because being best friends meant you could sense when the slightest thing was even off. He nodded, and you retreated to your cabin with thoughts swirling in your head.
Then came the next few torturous and confusing days. For the last two years, Luke would always approach you - almost daily, and vice versa. Being best friends with Luke has been wonderful. Every day together felt like a blessing.
Now, it seemed almost like he was avoiding you. He would find a new excuse whenever you approached. He wouldn’t even look in your direction. Yesterday, you made eye contact with him, and he turned away abruptly, facing his back towards you.
You had enough after day three. You went to your cabin after dinner and reached under your bed with one hand. You did not want to, but this would perhaps be your first-ever letter of anguish about Luke Castellan.
The box…where is the box?
You peered under your bed, mouth hanging open when your eyes could not spot it either. You looked up and around, hoping maybe you had misplaced it somewhere, even though part of you knew you had put it under your bed. You have always done so.
“Hey, have you seen a turquoise box?” you asked your sister as she walked by.
“Oh, the rectangle one, about this big?” your sister reconfirmed, using her hand to show you the size she indicated.
“Yes, that one.”
“Oh, I gave it to Luke.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I was cleaning the cabin three days ago, accidentally knocked it over and saw letters addressed to him. He was right by the door, so I thought maybe I should just deliver them to him.”
Blood drained from your face, and your heart plummeted. Anything else your sister seemed to be talking about started sounding like murmurs, and you could not focus on a word she was saying. Your worst nightmare seemed to have arrived. Somehow, your friendship with him had ended without you knowing. No wonder he has been avoiding you these past few days. He has read them all.
“I need to go,” you quickly muttered, storming out of your cabin. You could feel your body slightly shaking from the panic. No amount of Demigod training had prepared you for moments like these. Then you saw Luke walking over you…with the box in his hands. You took a deep breath and practically forced your voice box to work.
“Listen, Luke—”
“I didn’t think you’d buy birthday gifts that early, Y/N,” he interrupted.
“What?” you questioned and observed the sweet smile gracing his Adonis-like face.
“This?” he gestured to the box. “Your sister gave it to me and said it was from you. Though I thought I should give it back ‘cause it’s not my birthday yet, you might have wanted to give it to me yourself.”
“Oh…” it was the only thing you could utter as it dawned on you what he had perceived the situation as. “Wait, so you haven’t opened it?” you clarified.
“Nope.”
“...So we’re ok?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” your mouth hung slightly agape at his words. As you scrunch your eyebrows, you could see how his fingers fidget somewhat, almost as if he could tell you would bring his odd behavior up.
“You’ve been acting really odd the last few days, Luke. It had me worried. I thought I did something wrong. It seems like you were avoiding me.”
“I was just really busy with counselor duties,” he dismissed it. However, something about it made you a bit hesitant to believe his words. You did it anyway, nevertheless. You blamed it on your stupid heart.
“Yeah, but—” you stopped, not wanting to stir anything. “Ok then, I’m going to put this away, but I’ll see you later, yeah? Maybe we can finally not rain check again?” You hated how hopeful you sounded. You’re glad that the sun had set a few minutes ago, blessing you with enough degree of darkness to hide your facial expressions from being as evident as they would be in daylight.
“Of course, I’ll see you later, Y/N,” despite the dark and only dim lights from nearby, you noticed there was something different about him. Luke was wearing a nervous smile, almost sheepish like a schoolboy. There was a glimmer of amazement in his eyes like he was in disbelief. Though it was definitely overpowered by a glaring degree of warmth. He was looking at you like all those writers have written down in the books you have read before - something along the lines of adoration and love.
You shook those thoughts away again, refusing to somehow fool yourself into believing he could reciprocate those feelings.
“Yeah, see you,” you muttered, hand gripping tightly on the box as you took it from his hold. As soon as you reached your cabin, you opened the box to peer inside. You immediately sighed in relief upon seeing the copious amount of letters with your handwriting on them, all with Luke’s name on the front.
However, your eyes landed on one unfamiliar one. It had your name on it, written in a familiar wonky handwriting that you have always found endearing.
You sat on your bed, taking the letter out delicately, almost in disbelief. Then, dread overtook any other emotion. Was this Luke’s way of letting you down easy? By pretending to not have read any of your letters and rejecting you through the form that you express your love to him? — you had to physically shake your head at that thought.
You took the letter out of its envelope and started reading: 
‘Dear Y/N,
This is probably the 40th time I tried writing this letter. It feels impossible to try and convey everything onto one piece of paper.
You deserve someone to at least view you as their muse rather than always being the writer. 
Hence why, for the past few days, I had to physically drag myself away from you every time you tried approaching me because I knew if I didn’t, I would just end up spilling my feelings out right then. I knew if I even looked at you, I would have just abandoned this letter idea and run to you. You should have seen me yesterday. When we made eye contact, I had to turn away from you because having the knowledge of you liking me back was enough to knock all the air out of my lungs. I was a flustered mess from just that eye contact.
I doubt my words could rival what you have written about me. You once wrote how it hurts to love someone this much and to always be the poet but never the poem. Well, I’d like to thank you for making me your poems. However, now it is your turn. Allow me to be your poet.
You occupy my mind like it’s your castle. If I had to name everything I love about you, this letter would never end. But for starters, here are some of the first times:
The first time Chiron introduced you to the Hermes cabin, I could not take my eyes off you. Chris had to nudge me away. Just from that alone, a part of me knew I was in trouble. I think I came to the conclusion that I did not want to hold anybody else’s hand after just shaking yours.
2.5 years back during a campfire in June, even when the fire had died and the air grew cold, our voices still filled the air. Conversations just flow when I am with you. I remember never wanting that moment to end. Then you started talking about constellations and told me about the ones above us. Right there and then was the first time I had the urge to kiss you, and to show you that I was just as obsessed with you as you were with stars.
The first time I realized I was in love with you was while coming back from a quest 2 years ago. I remember feeling so numb coming back. The world almost seemed monotone, and I wondered for a second, what if I had made one wrong move? Just as I returned to camp, you bolted and hugged me. Somehow, it felt like I had just taken my first bit of fresh air after drowning for so long. I vividly recall shutting my eyes as I hugged you back because I felt like I was finally home. I remember never wanting to be away or out of your hold as others approached and rushed to get me into the infirmary for checkups.
It was only when I was lying on the infirmary bed that it hit me like a train that lost control. A large proportion of why I fought so hard was to come back to you. You’re my best friend, Y/N, and my place of solace and peace. Then came the realization that I was in love with you. I remember everybody else’s voice drowning out as I focused on that thought. It was strangely calming, as if my heart had known all along but was waiting for my head to catch up. Then I remember just smiling as I looked at the ceiling, unafraid of the new feeling.
Last year, the day we went on a quest together lapsed with Valentine’s Day. Every moment felt extra sweet. Us sitting on the train, staring outside the window together like a couple going on a trip. My mind savoured the small things like you falling asleep on my shoulder with my coat around you and us holding hands as we walked through the crowd to not get lost among couples - which I like to imagine that others had thought we were one as well. It was the first time I allowed myself to pretend this is how it would feel like if you were mine and how our lives together would be if we were not Demigods.
I thought for sure you would have realized something by the way I was staring and acting around you that I was irrevocably in love with you. After reading your letters, I realized that you did see it. But you refused to believe that I could ever be in love with you. Well, I hope my letters will reverse all your doubts, because Y/N, it is so easy to fall in love with you. 
In fact, the world I built up in my head during last year’s quest had consumed my thoughts enough to make me frown at the idea of returning to camp, where it would not just be the two of us anymore. Loving you has never been something I was afraid of. Loving you has been an honour every single day, even if you never knew of it. 
It’s also somewhat funny that I was heavily lovesick while you were lovelorn. But I promise, Y/N, that from this second on, I intend to make you know that you are loved and that I am so deeply in love with you.
Again, I never intended for you to wait for three days, but I ended up throwing away every letter I started because I felt like none had suffice. I didn’t want to mess it up and give you something less than you deserved. I wanted to do something nice for you. I promise I’ll make it up for those three days if you allow me to. But one chance is all I need.
If you are willing to give me that chance, you know where to find me.
Sincerely,
Luke Castellan’
Upon reading his last words, you immediately left your cabin with the letter in hand. You jogged to the spot where the two of you would always meet to stargaze together. Almost instantly, you saw his tall figure under the moonlight. As if he could sense your presence, the Hermes boy turned around and gave you a sweet smile.
“You meant it?” you asked as you raised the letter up, slowly approaching him.
“Every single word, including all the unspoken ones I intend on telling you from now on,” the way he said it felt like he was swearing it on his own heart. “In fact, I would have written more down, but I knew I was keeping you waiting for too long,” he explained as you stopped right before him.
Something about this moment felt cathartic. Three years of dancing around unspoken words and yearning led to this moment. Luke grabbed your hand and rubbed his thumb over your knuckle. You peered up at him, and it was then that you finally accepted what his looks meant: he was in love with you, and there was no doubt about that. There was no more denial on your end that Luke Castellan was enamored with you.
“Will you let me be your poet, Y/N?” he breathlessly referenced the words you and him had both previously written like he had been waiting for this for a lifetime.
“Of course,” you answered almost without hesitation, watching his eyes soften even more, if possible.
“Is it ok if I ask you another question?” he asked again, his other hand caressing your cheek.
“Yeah?” Your face flushed as you saw his brown eyes dart to your lips.
“Can I kiss you?”
This time, you didn’t say anything. You’ve written down way too many words in the past three years. You decided actions would speak louder in this case. So you pulled Luke down by his camp necklace, hands gripping the beads on it as you tiptoed up to reach his lips. 
Luke physically melted as he brought one hand to your waist to hold you up as he leaned down from the height difference. Everything Luke had imagined before could not match the kiss he was finally sharing with you - the kiss that seemed to seal his lips into a spell that would forever leave them unable to belong to anyone else. It felt like heaven and hell combined because he knew that this was going to ruin him forever, and every second he spent with his eyes shut would be one where he had this feeling and moment sown behind his eyelids. 
You had the same line of thoughts. The wait was long, but you felt like it was worth it. Under the stars, you may feel small. But standing there next to Luke, you finally realize it doesn’t matter. Because he was holding you like you were the only thing that mattered.
You were his sun, moon, and everything in between - no constellations could ever measure to you.
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 8 months ago
Text
only you (f.h.) (drabble)
Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Wife!Reader
A/N: The last month was pretty busy so I couldn't write much but I had a cute lil thought about this while I was on the bus cuz of all the Five tiktoks on my fyp
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"Honestly Five, your head isn't screwed on straight! No one in their right mind would put themselves at this much risk over and over again!" You shouted, voice almost hoarse and mouth dry as you continued to berate him, as you had since you arrived almost twenty minutes ago.
Your husband continued to ignore you, not even bothering to justify his reckless mission anymore and you continued to shout, waving your hands around in your helplessness and frustration.
Five Hargeeves was a great man but the one thing you absolutely detested about him was how he decided he had to do everything on his own. You were his partner, both in the commission and in his life, but he refused to trust you with his own matters.
To a certain degree, you could understand him. He was so anxious about saving his family, so tormented by their deaths hanging over him that he felt that unless he oversaw every single detail, it would all fall apart.
But just because you understood, didn't mean you appreciated your husband putting himself in harm's way when you could've helped him.
"Are you even listening to me?! Five! Your wife is here yelling at you, and you don't even have the decency to look her in the eye?!"
He didn't reply and you were stuck staring at his broad, blazer-clad shoulders.
Then he shifted, taking a deep breath and you heard the shaky breath he let out.
"Five?"
He finally turned, eyes glistening, cheeks wet and lip quivering and you felt so heartbroken at the sight of him that you felt your own tears prick at your eyes. You immediately closed the gap between you, "Oh, sweetheart."
You sat him down in the armchair, perching on his lap and letting him hide his face into your neck, peppering kisses to the crown of his head as he took some time to compose himself.
"I'm just—so tired." His voice cracked and you felt like your heart did as well, pulling away from him just enough so you could kiss his tears away.
"Shh, it's okay." You whispered, gently running your thumbs over the peak of his cheekbones. His hands were gripping your waist with the strength of a vice, nails digging into the flesh of your hips.
"What do you need, Five? Just give me the word and I'll make it happen." You told him, now more determined than anything to shoulder the pain he was feeling, "I would move the heavens and the earth to make you happy, my love. Tell me what you need."
He slumped over in defeat, pressing his forehead to yours, "You. Only you."
You sighed, now running your fingers through his hair. A part of you was disappointed that he was still unable to open up, another was unsurprised.
"Silly request. I'm already all yours."
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