#it’s like asking me to go against nature 😤

[pinkkittysaw]

cloud strife my number one man to bully and tease 😌

[harrysfolklore]

labyrinth - fc43

summary: as the only female driver on the grid, everything in yn's life was planned like a perfect qualifying lap. then franco colapinto had to show up. first, he was just that annoying new guy who took her best friend's seat. then he became the driver she absolutely couldn't stand (or at least that's what she kept telling herself) word count: over 13k + social media posts

folkie radio: GUYYYYSSS SHE'S HERE! i started writing this fic in september and it's finally her time to shine!! this is my first time writing driver!reader so please be gentle with me. also, HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! may all of your wishes come true

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,027,537 others

yourinstagram p6 in zandvoort ! happy to see max on the podium for his home race. see you soon monza 🇮🇹

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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 😤

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

A knot forms in your stomach as you read the messages. Something about the tone doesn't sit right with you. You quickly head towards Logan's motorhome, your mind racing and your axiety creeping in.

When you arrive, Oscar is already there, leaning against the wall with a concerned expression. Logan sits on the couch, his shoulders slumped and his gaze fixed on the floor.

"Logan?" you ask softly, stepping into the room. "What's going on?"

He looks up at you, then at Oscar, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and resignation. "I… I'm not coming back for the next race," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

You feel like you've been punched in the gut. Deep down, a part of you had known this was coming. Rumors in the paddock spread faster than a Formula 1 car on a straight, and there had been whispers about Logan's seat for weeks. But you hadn't wanted to believe it. You'd pushed those thoughts aside, convinced that if you just ignored them, they wouldn't come true.

"What? What do you mean you're not coming back?"

Oscar pushes off the wall, his brow furrowed. "Mate, what happened?"

Logan takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Williams… they're replacing me. I'm out."

The room falls silent for a moment as the news sinks in. Then, all at once, you feel a surge of anger coursing through your veins.

"They can't do that!" you exclaim, your voice rising. "It's mid-season! You've been improving, you've been working so hard. How can they just… just throw you away like this?"

Logan shrugs, a bitter smile on his face. "Apparently, they can. And they have."

A wave of emotions come crashing to you. Anger at Williams for their decision, frustration at the ruthless nature of the sport, and an overwhelming sadness for Logan.

Oscar moves to sit beside Logan, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, mate. This is bullshit."

You start pacing the room, your anger building with each step. "Who are they replacing you with? Some pay driver? Some rookie who's never even touched an F1 car?"

"Franco Colapinto," Logan says quietly.

You stop in your tracks, whirling to face him. "Colapinto? The F2 kid? Are they out of their minds?"

Oscar tries to interject, his voice calm. "YN, maybe we should-"

But you're too fired up to listen. "No, Oscar! This is wrong. It's so wrong. Logan deserves better than this. He deserves a chance to prove himself. How is he supposed to do that if they don't even give him a full season?"

Logan looks up at you, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes. "I appreciate you having my back, stinks. But it's done. There's nothing we can do about it now."

You shake your head. "No, there has to be something. They can't just replace you with some F2 kid like that. They're out of their minds."

"YN," Oscar cuts in firmly. "I know you're angry. We all are. But right now, we need to be here for Logan. This isn't about us or what we think is fair. It's about supporting our friend."

As Oscar's words sink in, you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. He's right, of course. This isn't about your anger or your sense of injustice. It's about Logan, your friend who's just had his dream ripped away from him.

The three of you have been racing together since you were kids, climbing through the ranks side by side. You've shared victories and defeats, laughter and tears. You've pushed each other to be better, to chase your dreams relentlessly. And now, one of you is being left behind.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "I just… I can't believe this is happening."

Logan manages a small smile. "It's okay, stinks. I appreciate your passion. It's one of the things I've always admired about you."

"Remember when we were in karting, and YN nearly got into a fist fight with that kid who tried to push Logan off the track?" Oscar says with a small smile, trying to light up the mood.

"How could I forget?" +

Logan chuckles softly, "She was like a tiny ball of fury."

You feel a smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. "Hey, nobody messes with my boys and gets away with it."

"And nothing's changed," Oscar adds, giving you a fond look. "We've always had each other's backs, through everything. This is not the exception."

Without another word, the three of you come together in a tight group hug, a physical representation of the bond you've shared for so many years.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 2,017,697 others

yourinstagram logan, you’re more than just a friend — you’re family. we’ve raced together since we were kids, dreaming of f1. to see that dream cut short for you is heartbreaking

your talent, dedication and kindness have always shone through. you deserved better than this mid-season swap. this sport can be cruel, but this feels especially unfair and i’m angry that my friend’s journey has been interrupted

but i’m also incredibly proud of you, logan. you have handled this with grace and strength and this isn’t the end for you — it’s just a detour. love you, stinks 🥲

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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

liked by francolapinto, landonorris and 410,764 others

williamsracing Franco Colapinto to race for the remainder of the 2024 season.

username1 VAMOOOS

username2 hello?? hes cute

username3 OKAY I SEE

username4 good thing for the team, sargeant was just not it

alex_albon Welcome to the fam @/francolapinto 👊

username5 KIIING

username6 an f1 kid who's not even top 5 right now in the championship? risky move

yourinstagram not even giving logan a proper goodbye? yall suck

THIS COMMENT HAS BEEN DETELED

username1 OMFG YN WE SAW THAT

username2 YN 😭😭

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Monza is always a race to look forward no matter what team you drive for, but today, your excitement is just not there.

The paddock feels different without Logan's presence, you have always raced alongside him, and not seeing his face during a race weekend feels wrong.

As you make your way through the bustling crowd, you can't help but feel a pang of sadness and anger. Inside the Red Bull hospitality area, you find Max already settled in, scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you approach, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you holding up?" he asks, gesturing for you to take a seat next to him.

"As well as can be expected, I guess," you slump into the chair, running a hand through your hair. "It just feels wrong, you know?"

"Yeah, I get it," Max nods, his expression thoughtful, "How's Logan doing? Have you talked to him?"

The mention of Logan's name ignites that spark of anger inside you again. "He's… he's putting on a brave face, but I know he's hurting. This whole situation is such bullshit, Max. Williams made a huge mistake."

Max raises an eyebrow, sensing the storm brewing beneath your calm exterior. "You want to talk about it?"

That's all the invitation you need. The words start pouring out of you, your voice rising with each sentence.

"It's just so unfair! Logan was improving every race. He was working his ass off, putting in the hours, doing everything the team asked of him. And for what? To be tossed aside mid-season for some rookie?"

Max tries to interject, "Well, Colapinto has been pretty impressive in F2-"

But you're on a roll now, barely registering his words. "Impressive in F2? So what? F1 is a whole different ball game. Logan was just starting to get comfortable, to really show what he could do. And now they've brought in this Colapinto kid who's never even driven an F1 car, who's probably a paid driver who's just going to waste everyone's times. What kind of message does that send?"

You stand up, pacing back and forth as you continue your rant. "Williams is making a huge mistake. They're throwing away all the work Logan put in, all the data they've gathered. For what? A gamble on some unproven talent? And don't even get me started on how they handled it. No warning, no real explanation. Just 'Thanks for your service, now get out.' It's disrespectful, it's short-sighted, and it's everything that's wrong with this sport sometimes."

Max watches you, a mix of concern and surprise on his face. He's never seen you this fired up before. "YN, I understand you're upset, but-"

"No, Max!" you interrupt him, "You don't understand because you'll never have the fear of having your seat taken from you out of nowhere. You're Max Verstappen. You're safe. But for the rest of us… we're always one bad weekend away from losing everything."

Max's brow furrows, clearly taken aback by your statement. "YN, that's not true. I worked hard to get where I am-"

"I know you did," you interrupt again, your voice softer now. "I'm not saying you didn't. But you have to admit, your position is different. You're a world champion. You're untouchable. But for drivers like Logan, like me… we're always looking over our shoulders, always wondering if this race will be our last."

Max is silent for a moment, processing your words. "I guess you're right, I've been in a secure position for so long, I forgot what it's like to worry about your seat." He pauses, then adds, "But you know, you're in a unique position too. You're the only woman driving a Formula 1 car. That's pretty special. You should feel-"

You cut him off, your frustration flaring up again. "Exactly! I'm the only woman here, Max. Do you have any idea how much more pressure that puts on me? Every move I make is scrutinized. Every-"

Before you can continue, you spot Franco Colapinto walking past the Red Bull area, chatting animatedly with his new race engineer. The sight of him in Williams colors sends another wave of resentment through you, and you turn away abruptly.

"I need some air," you mutter, storming out of the hospitality area, leaving a bewildered Max in your wake.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The sun beats down as you stand next to Oscar on the flatbed truck, waiting for the drivers' parade to begin. The usual buzz of excitement surrounding Monza feels muted to you, overshadowed still by Logan's absence and the presence of his replacement.

"Oi, what's with the long face?" Oscar nudges you playfully with his elbow. "You look like someone stole your last Tim Tam."

"Oh shut up, you dork," you can't help but crack a small smile, "As if I'd ever let anyone near my precious Tim Tams."

"Too right," Oscar grins. "But seriously, how are you holding up?"

You shrug, trying to keep your expression neutral for the cameras. "Oh, you know, just peachy. Nothing like a bit of midseason drama to spice things up, right?"

"Always the optimist, aren't you?" Oscar rolls his eyes, "Come on, I bet you twenty quid you can't name all the Italian F1 circuits without googling."

"You're on, Piastri," you say, grateful for the distraction. "Monza, Imola, Mugello…"

As you're racking your brain for more, you notice Franco Colapinto approaching. Your playful mood evaporates instantly.

Franco's eyes widen as he gets closer, clearly starstruck. "Uh, hi," he says nervously. "I'm Franco. I just wanted to introduce myself."

Oscar, ever the diplomat, smiles and extends his hand. "Hey mate, welcome to F1. I'm Oscar."

Franco shakes his hand before turning to you, his expression one of barely contained awe. "And you're YN. I… I can't believe I'm actually meeting you. You're such an inspiration. The way you've broken barriers in this sport, it's incredible. I've followed your career since your F3 days and-"

You cut him off, your voice cool. "Thanks. Welcome to the grid."

Franco's smile falters, but he presses on. "I just wanted to say how much I admire what you've accomplished. You've paved the way for so many young drivers, especially women in motorsport. It's an honor to be racing alongside you."

You nod stiffly. "Thanks," you repeat, your tone making it clear that you're not interested in continuing the conversation.

An awkward silence falls over the group. Oscar, sensing the tension, tries to smooth things over. "So, Franco, how are you finding the step up to F1 so far?"

As Franco turns to answer Oscar, you take the opportunity to step away, moving to the other side of the truck. You can feel Oscar's gaze following you, but you can't bring yourself to engage in small talk with Logan's replacement, no matter how well-intentioned he might be.

As you're standing alone, Alex approaches, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Hey, mind if I join you?"

You shrug. "Free country, Albon. Or free truck, I guess."

Alex chuckles softly. "How are you doing? I know this can't be easy for you."

You sigh, your guard dropping slightly with Alex. "It's… complicated. I'm angry for Logan, but I know it's not Franco's fault. It's just…"

"It's the reality of the sport we're in," Alex finishes for you. "Trust me, I get it. Been there, done that, got the Red Bull rejection t-shirt."

Your stomach twists at the mention of that, suddenly remembering the endless conversations and warnings from your team. And how despite having a contract for next season, there's threats about your seat being take away after every race weekend. But you push the thought away.

"Always the comedian, aren't you?"

"Someone's got to keep the mood light around here," Alex grins. "But seriously, I know it's tough. Franco's a good kid, though. He's been working really hard, trying to learn as much as he can."

You nod, not quite ready to let go of your resentment but appreciating Alex's perspective. "How's he settling in?"

"As well as can be expected," Alex says. "He's got a lot to learn, but he's eager. It's a big step up from F2, but he's handling the pressure well so far."

You're about to respond when the parade starts moving. Alex gives you a supportive pat on the shoulder before moving back to his spot. As the truck rolls down the straight, the cheers of the Tifosi wash over you. You lift your hand to wave, a mix of emotions swirling inside you that go beyond just Logan's replacement.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,638,578 others

yourinstagram p8. it is what it is. ciao monza 👋

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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

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 12,739 others

f1gossip YN arriving at Red Bull HQ in Milton Keynes

Tensions running high as rumors swirl about potential driver shake-ups. Sources say YN’s recent performance has bosses considering options

Is the Honey Badger eyeing a comeback or could young Liam Lawson be making the leap to F1? 🤔

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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

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,638,538 others

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 🤩

liked by username1, logansargeant and 270,847 others

redbullracing Solid race and a bunch of points for the team 👊

Result 🏁PIA, LEC, YN P3, NOR, Max P5, ALO, ALB, COL, HAM, BEA

#F1 #RedBullRacing #AzerbaijanGP

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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

liked by oscarpiastri, francolapinto and 1,764,933 others

yourinstagram was that entertaining? 😙 so happy to be on the podium for osco's second win, i love you so muuuch you diva

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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

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The drivers' briefing has just concluded, and you find yourself lingering in the room, chatting with your friends.

"I swear, I almost peed my pants at that press conference!," Lando says, his eyes widening as he recalls, "When Max and YN just sat there in silence, staring down the journalists… I thought I was going to lose it!"

Pierre chuckles, giving you a knowing look. "I knew YN was the mastermind behind that. It has her written all over it."

"Well, someone had to make a point about these ridiculous penalties," you can't help but grin.

The group's laughter is interrupted as Franco approaches, a tentative smile on his face. "Hey guys, mind if I join?"

The others welcome him warmly, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach. You force a tight smile, trying to keep your emotions in check.

"Franco, mate!" George exclaims, patting him on the back. "That was some impressive driving in practice. You're settling in well."

Alex nods in agreement. "Yeah, you're really holding your own out there. Williams made a good choice."

You feel your jaw clench at Alex's words, but you remain silent, watching as Franco's face lights up with pride and gratitude.

"Thanks, guys," Franco says, his voice humble. "I still have a lot to learn, but I'm giving it my all."

"Well, it's paying off," Lando chimes in, "Points in just your second race? You're pushing that Williams harder than we've seen in a while."

As the conversation continues, with each driver offering praise and encouragement to Franco, you feel your frustration and anger building.

The memory of Logan's disappointment and unfairness of it all, mixed with the ever present threat of you seat having the same fate, bubbles up inside you until you can't contain it anymore.

"And what about Logan?" you snap, your voice cutting through the friendly chatter like a knife. The group falls silent, all eyes turning to you in surprise. Franco's smile fades, replaced by a look of discomfort and guilt.

"YN…" Oscar starts, his tone cautionary.

But you're too fired up to stop now. "No, seriously. Everyone's so quick to praise him, but what about Logan? He was improving every race, working his ass off, and for what? To be tossed aside mid-season?"

The atmosphere in the room becomes tense. George and Alex exchange uncomfortable glances, while Pierre shifts uneasily.

Franco, looking distressed, speaks up. "I never meant for Logan to lose his seat. I just took the opportunity when it was offered to me. Any driver would have done the same."

"Oh, so that makes it okay?" his words only fuel your anger. "You just 'took the opportunity'? Do you have any idea how hard Logan worked for that seat? How much he sacrificed?"

"YN, that's enough," Oscar says firmly, placing a hand on your arm.

But you shrug him off, your eyes blazing as you face Franco. "You waltz in here, taking a seat you didn't earn, and everyone's falling over themselves to congratulate you. It's not right. It's not fair."

The room falls into a shocked silence. Franco looks like he's been slapped, his earlier excitement completely deflated. The other drivers are staring at you with a mix of surprise and disapproval.

It's George who finally breaks the tension. "YN, I think we all understand you're upset about Logan. We all are. But this isn't Franco's fault. He's just trying to make the most of his chance, like any of us would."

You feel a flush of shame creeping up your neck, but your anger is still simmering. "You don't understand," you mutter, but the fight has gone out of your voice.

Franco, looking genuinely distressed, takes a step towards you. "I'm sorry about what happened to Logan. I really am. I have nothing but respect for him, and for you. I never wanted to cause any problems."

His sincerity catches you off guard, and for a moment, you see not the driver who replaced your friend, but a young, talented kid trying to navigate a difficult situation. However, your anger and frustration gets the best of you.

"Whatever," you mumble, pushing past the group and out of the room, leaving a stunned silence as you disappear.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 709,639 others

francolapinto still buzzing from singapore 🇸🇬growing up watching Lewis battle in marina bay and now getting to race wheel to wheel with him... surreal doesn't even begin to cover it 🤯 and that fight with YN for position was proper racing - those last few laps were intense! thank you to the team for giving me a car that could fight at the front. vamos 💪

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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!

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 2,370,739 others

f1 BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo to leave RB, the team have announced. Liam Lawson will race in place of Ricciardo for the remaining six races of the season for the team.

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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

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

As you step off the plane in Florida, the warm air envelops you, a stark contrast to the crisp autumn weather you left behind in Europe. Your heart lightens as you spot Logan waiting for you, his familiar grin a welcome sight after weeks of tension and stress. You missed your best friend so much.

You rush towards him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. "I missed you so much," you say, your voice muffled against his shoulder. "That paddock sucks without you."

Logan chuckles, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. "I missed you too, stinks." He pulls back, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Now, let's grab a beer since you're out of race cars for a while."

You nod eagerly, letting him lead the way. He drives you to a nearby bar, one you've learned over the years of knowing him was the one he used to go to during his teenage years. The casual atmosphere is a refreshing change from the high-pressure environment of the paddock. As you settle into a booth with cold beers in hand, you feel some of the tension from the past few months start to melt away.

"So, how's life outside the F1 bubble?" you ask, taking a sip of beer.

Logan grins, leaning back in his seat. "It's… different. But not all bad. Actually, I've got some news." He pauses for dramatic effect. "I've been in talks with a few IndyCar teams."

Your eyes widen with excitement. "Logan, that's fantastic! Tell me everything!"

For the next hour, Logan animatedly describes his meetings with IndyCar team principals, the tracks he's excited to race on, and the new challenges he's looking forward to. You listen intently, genuinely happy for your friend's potential new chapter.

"It's not F1," Logan admits, "but it's a hell of a racing series. And who knows? Maybe it'll lead me back to F1 someday."

"I have no doubt," you assure him, raising your bottle in a toast. "To new beginnings!"

As the conversation flows, you find yourself relaxing more than you have in months. You chat about mutual friends, swap funny stories from your junior racing days, and discuss the latest paddock gossip.

Eventually, Logan's expression turns a bit more serious. "So, Oscar's been keeping me updated on what's been going on in F1. Sounds like things have been… tense with Franco."

You feel your mood shift at the mention of Franco's name. "Yeah, you could say that," you mutter, taking a long swig of your beer.

Logan leans forward, his voice gentle but firm. "YN, I know you're upset on my behalf, but you can't keep this grudge going forever. Franco's just a kid trying to make his way in the sport, like we all were not too long ago."

"I know, I know. It's just," you sigh heavily, "Every time I see him in the garage, in your overalls, talking to your engineers… it feels wrong, Logan. Like he's stolen something that belongs to you."

"But he didn't steal anything," Logan counters. "The team made a decision. It sucks for me, yeah, but that's not on Franco. He just took an opportunity that was offered to him. Can you honestly say you wouldn't have done the same in his position?"

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Logan has a point, and you know it.

"Look," Logan continues, "I've had some time to process all this, and I've come to terms with it. It's a cutthroat sport, YN. We all know that. Franco's not the villain here."

"But the way it happened," you protest, "mid-season, with no warning. It wasn't fair to you."

"Fair doesn't always come into it in F1. It just happens," Logan shrugs, "Besides," he adds with a hint of a smile, "I hear he's doing a decent job. The kid's got talent."

"He's alright," you grudgingly admit. "But he's not you."

Logan laughs. "No one's me, stinks. I'm one of a kind."

You can't help but crack a smile at that. "True enough."

"So," Logan says, his tone turning serious again, "can you promise me you'll try to ease up on Franco? Give him a fair shot? For me?"

You sigh deeply, considering his words. "I'll try," you finally concede. "But I'm not promising to be his best friend or anything."

"That's all I ask," Logan says, looking relieved. "Now, is this just about Franco replacing me, or is there something else going on? You seem… I don't know, more on edge than usual."

For a moment, you consider telling him about the talks with Red Bull, about the uncertainty surrounding your own seat. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but something holds you back. Maybe it's not wanting to burden Logan with your problems, or maybe it's not being ready to voice your fears out loud.

"No, nothing else," you lie, forcing a smile. "Just the usual F1 stress, you know how it is."

Logan nods, though he doesn't look entirely convinced. "Well, if there ever is anything, you know you can talk to me, right? Even if I'm not in the paddock anymore."

"I know," you say, feeling a pang of guilt. "Thanks, Logan. Really."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 1,289,673 others

yourinstagram florida !!! is one hell of a drug

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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 🙌

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You arrive at the Red Bull hospitality area in Austin, the excitement of being back after the break palpable in the air. As you walk in, you spot Max lounging on one of the sofas, scrolling through his phone.

"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," Max grins, looking up from his device. "Did you get lost in the Texas wilderness?"

You roll your eyes playfully, dropping your bag on a nearby chair. "Oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness. Did I keep you waiting? I was busy signing autographs for all my adoring fans. You know how it is… oh wait, you don't."

"Ouch, that hurt," Max clutches his chest in mock pain, "And here I was, about to show you something interesting, but now I'm not so sure you deserve it."

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. The banter with Max always helps you relax before a race weekend, and you've missed this during the break. "Oh come on, spill it, Verstappen. You know you want to. Don't make me steal your phone."

Max chuckles and pats the seat next to him. "Alright, alright. Sit down before you hurt yourself trying to reach my phone."

As you sit down, he pulls up a video on his phone. "Check this out. It's an interview with your biggest fan."

It's an interview with Franco. Your initial instinct is to look away, a mix of guilt and stubbornness rising in your chest. But something in Max's expression makes you watch.

"Lewis Hamilton and YN are my biggest idols in F1," Franco is saying, his face earnest. "The way YN races, her dedication and skill, it's truly inspiring. She's broken so many barriers and shown that talent knows no gender. I feel honored just to be on the same grid as her."

As the interview continues, Franco heaps more praise on you, his admiration clear in every word. You feel a twinge of guilt, remembering how cold you've been towards him. The genuine respect in his voice makes you uncomfortable, forcing you to confront your own prejudices.

"Her overtake on Leclerc in Interlagos last year? That was pure brilliance," Franco continues. "I've watched that move countless times, trying to learn from it. YN's not just a great driver, she's changing the face of the sport. I hope one day I can race wheel-to-wheel with her and show her the respect she deserves on track."

Max turns off the video and looks at you expectantly. "I think you owe someone an apology," he says, his tone gentle but firm.

You nod slowly, the realization sinking in. A wave of shame washes over you as you remember your cold behavior towards Franco. "I think I do," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Max puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, we all make mistakes. What matters is how we fix them. Franco's a good kid, and he really looks up to you. Maybe it's time to give him a chance?"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "I actually talked to Logan last week," you confess, watching Max's eyebrows rise in surprise. "He's doing well, actually - focusing on IndyCar now. But we talked a lot about… everything."

"Yeah?" Max shifts in his seat, clearly intrigued. It's not often you open up about these things.

"He basically told me I needed to stop fighting battles that weren't mine to fight. Said he appreciates me having his back, but Franco isn't the enemy here. He's just chasing his dream, like we all did. Logan said he remembers how it felt, getting his first chance - we all do."

Max nods thoughtfully. "Logan's right, you know. We've all been there at some point - getting an opportunity because someone else lost theirs. It's just how F1 works sometimes."

"I know," you admit, standing up. "And I've been unfair to Franco. He's actually doing a really good job with Williams, fighting in the midfield with a car that's not the easiest to drive. And here I am, making him feel unwelcome when I should be supporting talent. Some role model I am, right?"

"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks, though his smile suggests he already knows.

You spot Franco heading towards the Williams hospitality area. "I'm going to make it right."

Walking over to Williams, you feel your heart pounding a little faster with each step. You find Franco sitting at one of the tables, going through data on his laptop with his race engineer.

"Franco?" you call out. "Could I steal you for a moment?"

He looks up, surprise evident on his face. "YN? Hi… yeah, of course." He glances at his engineer, who nods and excuses himself.

"Mind if I sit?" you ask, gesturing to the empty chair. When he nods, you take a deep breath. "I owe you an apology. A proper one."

Franco starts to shake his head, but you hold up a hand. "Please, let me finish. I've been unfair to you, and it wasn't right. I let my loyalty to Logan blind me to the fact that you're just a talented driver making the most of your opportunity. I've been cold, sometimes even hostile, and you didn't deserve any of that."

"I… thank you," Franco says quietly. "That means a lot. I want you to know, I reached out to Logan when-"

"I know," you interrupt gently. "He told me. That's partly why I'm here. You showed real class doing that, Franco. And you're doing a great job with the car. That P8 in Baku? That was proper racing."

A genuine smile breaks across his face. "Coming from you, that really means a lot. You know, I've watched your races since I was in F3. The way you fought through all the doubters, proved everyone wrong… you're really an inspiration."

You feel your throat tighten unexpectedly. "I had no idea."

"That's why your opinion means so much," Franco admits, fiddling with his water bottle. "When you seemed disappointed in me being here… it hurt, you know?"

"I'm sorry," you say again, meaning it more than ever. "How about we start fresh? Maybe you can talk me through that overtake in Baku - I noticed you used a similar line to what I did in Interlagos last year."

Franco's eyes light up. "You caught that? I actually studied your move while preparing for the race! The way you positioned the car on entry…"

You spend the next twenty minutes discussing racing lines and overtaking techniques, the earlier tension completely dissolved. Franco's enthusiasm is infectious, reminding you of your own early days in F1.

When you finally walk back to Max, you feel lighter than you have in months. He greets you with a knowing smile. "Feel better?"

"Much better," you admit. "Sometimes you need a kick in the right direction So thank you, I needed that wake-up call."

"Anytime," he smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulders, "Can't have my teammate being the paddock villain, can I? That's my job."

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1 and 1,667,459 others

yourinstagram rookies keeping us on our toes 😤 good battles today @/francolapinto

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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!

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The private jet hums quietly through the night sky towards Mexico City. Most of the other drivers are asleep, exhausted from the intense Austin weekend. You find yourself unable to sleep, your mind still racing from the events of the day. Glancing around the dimly lit cabin, you notice Franco is also awake, absently flipping through a magazine.

Catching your eye, he gives you a warm smile and moves to the empty seat across from you. "Can't sleep either?"

"Too much adrenaline still," you admit, adjusting your position to face him better. "Great drive today, by the way. That point was well-deserved."

Franco's face lights up at the compliment. "Thanks! Though it's nothing compared to your battle with Lando. I was watching it from behind and thought 'there's no way she's going to make that stick' but then you just… did. It was incredible."

You laugh softly, careful not to wake the others. "There was a moment there where I wasn't sure either. But sometimes you just have to go for it, you know?"

"Oh, I know exactly what you mean," Franco grins. "Like that time in F3 when I tried to go around the outside at Spa and ended up practically in another timezone."

"Please tell me there's video of that," you snicker.

"Unfortunately for my dignity, yes. I think my engineer still uses it as an example of what not to do."

The conversation flows naturally, jumping from racing stories to childhood memories. You find yourself genuinely enjoying his company, something that would have seemed impossible just a few weeks ago.

"So what made you want to be a racing driver?" you ask, genuinely curious.

As Franco launches into how he found his passion for the sport, you find yourself really looking at him properly for the first time. The soft cabin lighting catches the angles of his face, and you notice details you'd overlooked before. His eyes are warm with flecks of gold, crinkling slightly at the corners when he smiles. There's a small scar above his right eyebrow, barely noticeable unless you're paying attention. His dark hair is slightly disheveled from the long race day, a few strands falling across his forehead.

You catch yourself thinking how handsome he actually is, in that classic way. His animated expressions as he talks about racing make him even more attractive, his passion for the sport evident in every gesture.

"...and that's when I knew I wanted to do this forever," he finishes, then looks slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to get carried away when talking about racing."

"No, don't apologize," you say quickly. "It's refreshing to see that kind of enthusiasm. Some of the guys get so jaded after a while."

Franco's smile turns a bit shy. "Speaking of enthusiasm, I'm really excited about racing in Mexico this weekend. It's one of my favorite cities - the atmosphere is just incredible."

"The fans are amazing there," you agree. "Though I still haven't found a really good place to eat in Mexico City. The hotel restaurant gets old pretty quickly."

Franco's eyes light up. "Oh, you have to let me help with that! I know a couple of amazing restaurants in the city. There's this incredible place that serves the best traditional dishes you've ever tasted, and another one in that does contemporary Mexican cuisine that would blow your mind."

You find yourself intrigued, both by the suggestion and the eager way he's describing it. "That sounds way better than room service."

"We could..." he hesitates for a moment, then continues with determination, "we could go together, if you'd like? After Thursday's media duties maybe? I'd love to show you my favorite spots."

There's something endearing about the way he's trying to sound casual while clearly being nervous about asking. You feel a flutter in your stomach that you definitely weren't expecting.

"You know what? That sounds great," you say, surprised by how much you mean it. "It's about time I experienced proper Mexican cuisine."

Franco's face breaks into a brilliant smile. "Perfect! I'll make a reservation for Thursday evening then. Trust me, you won't regret it."

As the conversation continues, you can't help but notice how natural it feels now, how easily you're laughing at his jokes and sharing stories. It's hard to believe this is the same person you were avoiding just a few weeks ago.

As other drivers start stirring from their sleep, Franco returns to his original seat, but not before confirming your dinner plans one more time.

Watching him walk away, you find yourself looking forward to Thursday evening more than you probably should. It's just dinner with a colleague, you tell yourself, even as you catch yourself smiling at the thought of it.

"Just dinner," you whisper to yourself, but somehow, you're not entirely convinced.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

yourinstagram has added to their close friends stories

replies:

georgerussell63 So that was all the giggling I heard during the flight

oscarpiastri I’m so telling Logan

maxverstappen1 Can I say “I told you so” now?

francolapinto close friends privileges already? wow

↳ yourinstagram don’t push it colapinto

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The hotel lobby is relatively quiet as you wait for Franco, having agreed to meet there before heading to the restaurant. You've opted for casual - a simple black dress that makes you feel confident but not overdressed.

"Ready to have your mind blown by the best food in Mexico City?" Franco's voice makes you turn. He's wearing dark jeans and a well-fitted navy button-down, and you try not to notice how good he looks.

"Big claims require big proof," you tease, falling into step beside him.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Lando's familiar accent cuts through the lobby. He's just coming in from what looks like a gym session, and his surprised smirk makes you want to roll your eyes. "Interesting dinner plans?"

"Just showing YN the local cuisine," Franco says smoothly, though you notice his ears turning slightly pink.

"Right, right," Lando drawls, his eyes dancing with amusement. "The local cuisine. In your nice shirt. At that fancy place you've been talking about for weeks-"

"Goodbye, Lando," you cut him off, grabbing Franco's arm and steering him toward the exit, trying to ignore Lando's knowing chuckle behind you. You knew it was a matter of time before the entire grid finds out you went out with Franco.

The restaurant is everything Franco promised and more. The conversation flows easily between you, and you find yourself charmed by the way he seamlessly switches between Spanish and English while ordering, the way he leans in slightly when you're talking, the way his hand occasionally brushes yours across the table.

"No way," you laugh, taking another sip of wine. "You did not challenge your friend to a dance-off."

"I absolutely did," Franco grins. "And I won, by the way. Though there might have been some tequila involved."

"I would pay good money to see that."

"Play your cards right," he says with a playful wink, "and maybe you'll get a private demonstration."

The flirtatious comment catches you off guard, and you feel heat rise to your cheeks. Franco seems pleased with this reaction, his confidence growing throughout the evening.

The evening continues, warm and comfortable. Franco insists on ordering dessert - "You haven't lived until you've tried their churros con chocolate" - and you find yourself sharing stories between bites of perfectly crispy churros.

"So," Franco says, wiping chocolate from his lip with a napkin, "you, Oscar, and Logan - that's quite the trio. How did that happen?"

You laugh, fondly remembering those early days. "We practically grew up together in karting. I was this tiny kid trying to prove myself, Oscar was already sassy even at eight years old, and Logan… well, Logan was Logan."

"Let me guess - immediate chaos?" Franco grins.

"Oh, absolutely. We used to drive our parents and coaches crazy. These three kids who wouldn't stop racing each other even after practice was over." You smile at the memory. "We've been inseparable ever since. Though now Logan's living his best life in Florida."

Franco's eyes soften. "You really miss having him in the paddock, don't you?"

"Yeah," you admit quietly. "I do. But he's happy, and that's what matters. Plus, he texts me stupid memes at least twenty times a day, so it's like he never left."

After asking for the bill — one that Franco didn't let you pay no matter how much you insisted — you decided to walk back to the hotel. You were aware that his hand was close to yours as you walked side by side, almost brushing your fingers, but you didn't dare to take that step, and neither did he.

You reach the hotel, but instead of heading straight for the elevators, Franco suggests taking the scenic route through the garden. The night is too nice to end just yet.

"I have to say," he remarks as you walk, "you look beautiful tonight. That dress is…" he makes an exaggerated chef's kiss gesture, making you laugh.

"Smooth, Colapinto. Very smooth."

"I try," he winks, and you roll your eyes but can't hide your smile.

The walk to your room comes too quickly. Outside your door, Franco turns to you with a soft smile.

"Thank you for tonight," he says. "It was… nice. Really nice."

"It was," you agree, finding yourself meaning it completely. "Thank you for showing me your favorite spot."

There's a moment where you both just look at each other, the air charged with something unspoken. Franco takes a small step closer, then seems to think better of it.

"Goodnight, YN," he says softly, squeezing your hand once before letting go.

"Goodnight, Franco," you reply, watching him head down the hallway.

As you close the door behind you, you lean against it, smiling to yourself. You can already hear Max's smug "I told you so" tomorrow, but somehow, you can't bring yourself to care.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 14,892 users

f1gossip🚨 Franco Colapinto and YN spotted having dinner together in Mexico City. They spent over two hours at the restaurant according to witnesses.

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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?

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The Brazilian rain hammers down relentlessly on the Interlagos circuit. It's barely 6 AM, but the paddock is already buzzing with nervous energy for the early sprint qualifying. You stifle a yawn as you check your phone for what must be the hundredth time that morning. Another message from Franco pops up - a picture of himself looking comically miserable in the rain with the caption "Maybe if we all pretend we didn't see the rain, they'll cancel quali?"

The past week has been unexpected in the best way possible. After that dinner in Mexico, something shifted. What started as sharing breakfast in the hotel turned into spending every free moment together. During the long flight to São Paulo, George had dramatically sighed and switched seats with Franco, muttering something about "not being able to take the longing looks across the plane anymore."

"Someone's cheerful for 6 AM," Max comments, walking into the garage as you quickly type a response to Franco. "Let me guess - Argetinian company keeping you entertained?"

You try to hide your smile but fail miserably. "Shut up and focus on qualifying."

"Oh, I'm focused," he grins. "Unlike someone who keeps looking at their phone every two minutes."

"I'm just-"

"YN," Max interrupts, counting off on his fingers, "he waited outside our debrief yesterday just to walk you to dinner. He somehow always knows your coffee order. And don't think I didn't notice him giving you his jacket yesterday."

You feel your cheeks heat up. "We're just friends."

"Right," Max smirks. "Friends. Like how Charles and I are 'just friends' when we're trying to punt each other off track."

"Shut up, as if you weren't secretly in love with each other."

A few hours later, as you prepare for the drivers' parade, Oscar sidles up next to you with his trademark grin.

"Well, well, if it isn't the stranger," he says dramatically. "Remember me? One of your best friends? Though I suppose you wouldn't know, being attached at the hip with a certain Williams driver these days."

You roll your eyes, but there's no heat in it. "Miss me that much, Piastri?"

"Just saying, used to be we'd get coffee before parade, now it's all 'Sorry Oscar, Franco already got me coffee,'" he mimics your voice terribly.

You're about to retort when Franco appears, and Oscar's grin widens. "And that's my cue. Have fun, kids!" He winks before sauntering off.

"Ignore him," you say when you notice a small smile in Franco's face, "He's the perpetual pain in my ass."

"He's okay," Franco says, standing closer to you. You're trying to get your hair in order when you realize something's missing.

"Shit," you mutter, patting your pockets. "I forgot my hair tie."

"You always braid it before races, right?"

"Yeah," you sigh, still searching. "I'm stupidly superstitious about it. Haven't gotten into the car without a perfect braid since F3."

"Here," Franco pulls a hair tie from his wrist. At your surprised look, he shrugs. "I started carrying one after Mexico. Just in case," he shrugs, as if he was saying the most obvious thing ever, "Turn around."

"You know how to braid hair?"

"Sisters, remember? I'm practically a professional." His fingers are gentle as they work through your hair. "Besides, can't have you breaking your streak because of a missing hair tie."

You're acutely aware of the other drivers watching with varying degrees of amusement. Lewis gives you a knowing wink as he passes, while Charles not-so-subtly elbows Oscar and gestures toward you two.

"There," he says finally, securing the end with your hair tie. "Perfect braid for perfect racing."

You reach back to feel it - it is indeed perfect. When you turn to thank him, you find him much closer than expected, his eyes soft as they meet yours.

"Show off," you manage to say, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing.

"Only for you," he replies with a wink, and you hear what sounds suspiciously like Alex whispering "Just kiss already" to George.

The moment is broken by the announcement for drivers to take their places on the parade truck. As you climb aboard, you catch Oscar making exaggerated swooning gestures at you, while Max simply mouths "Just friends?" with a knowing smirk.

Franco takes his place beside you on the truck, close enough that your shoulders touch, and somehow you find you don't really care who's watching.

"Nice braid, by the way," Charles calls out teasingly from behind you. "Franco, think you could do mine next time?"

"Get your own hair stylist, Leclerc," you call back, and Franco's laugh next to you makes everything - the bad qualifying, the rain, the teasing - worth it.

The truck starts moving, and Franco's hand finds yours, hidden from view between you. You intertwine your fingers with his, and neither of you let go for the entire parade.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 21,765 others

f1_insider🚨 Christian Horner spotted leaving Williams hospitality after a 2-hour meeting in Brazil. This comes amid increasing speculation about driver changes for 2025.

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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

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 2,093,032 others

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

liked by username1, username2 and 14,088 others

f1gossip YN's radio messages during Franco's crash show a different side to their "rivalry." Listen to how her voice changes when she finds out it's him. Sometimes the real feelings come through in moments like these.

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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

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

The easy banter has become your normal over the past week. Ever since Brazil, where you fought your way from P15 to P2 in treacherous conditions, something has shifted between you. The walls you'd carefully maintained started crumbling during that rain-soaked weekend.

Your phone buzzes again - this time it's Christian Horner requesting a meeting. Your stomach tightens instinctively. These meetings have become more frequent throughout the season, always with subtle undertones about your future with the team.

Franco: "Meeting with James in 10. Wish me luck not falling asleep in the sim debrief. Call you after?"

You: "Sure, good luck x"

The 'x' slips out before you can stop it - you've never added that before. Your finger hovers over the delete button, but he's already seen it.

Franco: "Did THE YN just send me a kiss? Screenshots being taken. This is historic

You're still smiling about your early interaction with Franco when you walk into Christian Horner's office, but his expression is serious enough to make your smile fade. You've been here before - these "casual meetings" that could determine your future.

"YN, thanks for making time," he gives a polite smile, "Please, take a seat."

You sit, trying to read his expression. Last week's podium trophy sits on a shelf behind him - your trophy, earned after fighting through half the grid.

"As you're aware, your contract includes certain performance clauses. While your recent results, particularly Brazil, have been impressive, we need to consider all options for the team's future."

That familiar knot in your stomach returns. "What kind of options?"

"I was at Williams recently," Christian says carefully, "discussing various possibilities, including Franco Colapinto."

The world seems to tilt slightly. Franco. At Williams. Meeting about possibilities. Just like with Logan.

"I got P2 in Brazil," you say, hating how defensive your voice sounds. "Started P15. In the rain. I battled with the entire grid while also defending for Max to secure a double podium."

"Yes, and it was an exceptional drive-"

"I'm fifth in the championship. I've scored podiums consistently despite the car being a nightmare to drive most of the times. What more do I need to do?"

Christian's expression remains neutral. "This isn't about any single result, YN. We need to evaluate all potential scenarios for the team's future."

"So you're considering replacing me," you say flatly. "With Franco."

"I trust you understand this is just business, YN," Christian says as you stand to leave. "We have to explore every option."

You pause at the door, turning back slightly. "Of course. Business." Your voice is perfectly controlled. "Just like my P2 in Brazil was business. My podiums were business. Everything I've given to this team has been business."

"YN-"

"No, I get it. Really." You manage a smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "If you'll excuse me, I have some sim work to review."

It hits you as you drive back to your apartment - every friendly conversation, every shared coffee, every late-night text… none of it was real. Franco isn't your friend. He's just another driver who sees you as an obstacle to overcome, a seat to claim. Just like everyone else since you entered F1, smiling to your face while plotting to take what's yours.

Back in your apartment, your phone keeps lighting up with Franco's messages, each one making your chest tighter. You can't bring yourself to block him - that feels too much like acknowledging how much this hurts. Instead, you just... stop responding. Set the phone aside. Focus on your laptop, on race data, on anything else.

Your phone rings - Oscar's familiar face popping up on the screen.

"Finally!" he exclaims when you answer. "I've been trying to reach you all day. You missed the most hilarious thing - Lando tried to make vegemite pasta."

Despite everything, you find yourself smiling. "Please tell me someone filmed it."

The conversation flows easily, almost making you forget about everything else. Almost.

"Oh yeah," Oscar adds casually, "ran into Franco at paddle today. He seemed pretty worried-"

"He better focus on preparing for his Red Bull seat instead."

"His what?" Oscar sounds confused. "Stinks, what are you on about?"

"Horner had meetings at Williams. About Franco. About possibilities. Sound familiar?"

"Hang on, hang on. Did you even talk to Franco about this? Because he genuinely seemed concerned-"

"Of course he seemed concerned, Os. That's the whole point."

"YN, I know you. You're doing that thing where you push people away before they can hurt you. But stinks, I really don't think-"

"I have to go. Sim data to review."

"At least talk to him-"

You end the call, turning back to your laptop. Three races left. Three chances to prove everyone wrong. No more distractions, no more letting your guard down.

You'll do it the only way that matters in F1 - on track, where lap times speak louder than friendly texts, and championship points mean more than shared coffee breaks.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

You've managed three weeks. Three weeks of perfectly crafted indifference, of calling him "the Williams driver" in interviews, of taking different routes through the paddock just to avoid those chance encounters that used to make your heart skip. Three weeks of pretending you don't miss his stupid sparkle messages, or the way he always saves you a coffee during early practice sessions.

But now your hands won't stop shaking as you stare at your dark phone screen, trying to ignore the screens showing the mangled Williams in the Las Vegas Strip. You've watched the replay seventeen times without meaning to, each time feeling your heart stop at the impact.

"This is getting ridiculous," Max's voice is quiet beside you, making you jump. You didn't even hear him approach. "Stop with this nonsense."

"I'm fine," you respond automatically, thumb still pretending to scroll on your black screen. "Just checking the timing sheets."

"Your phone isn't even on." Max's hand appears, gently taking the phone from your trembling grip. "They've taken him to UMC. Just go."

"I can't," you whisper, finally looking up at your teammate. You hate how your voice catches. "Everyone will—"

"Who cares what everyone will say?" Max interrupts, already reaching for your bag. "Hannah's got a car waiting. Go."

"I don't want to," you protest weakly, but even you can hear how unconvincing it sounds. "I don't need to—"

"Stop," Max's voice is firm but gentle. "You're not going back to this. Not after everything. You care about him, stop pretending you don't."

You take a shaky breath, then nod once. You're out of the garage before you can change your mind and rebuild those walls you've spent three weeks perfecting. Because Max is right – you do care. You care so much it terrifies you. And right now, nothing else matters except knowing he's okay.

You hate hospitals. You've spent too many hours in them after your own crashes, but somehow this is worse. Standing outside his room, you're suddenly unsure of everything. Three weeks of carefully constructed distance seems ridiculous now.

"You can come in instead of hovering at the door," Franco's voice carries from inside, slightly hoarse but still holding that hint of amusement that always used to drive you crazy. "Unless you're planning to run away again."

You step inside, trying to maintain some composure even as your heart clenches at the sight of him. "I wasn't running away," you say automatically, but it sounds weak even to your ears.

"No?" He raises an eyebrow, wincing slightly at the movement. "So you just happened to take different paddock routes?"

"Franco—"

"It's back to Franco now? Not 'the Williams driver'?" There's hurt beneath his teasing tone, and it makes your chest tight. "That last interview was particularly cold, by the way. Very convincing."

You stay by the door, arms crossed. "I thought that's what everyone wanted. Space. Distance. Rivalry."

"You're here now though."

"Max made me come," you lie.

"Sure he did." Franco's small smile tells you he sees right through you. "Nothing to do with how many times you asked if I was okay over the radio?"

You feel your cheeks heat up. Of course he's heard the radio already. "I would have asked about any driver."

"YN," his voice softens, and it breaks something in you. "Stop pretending. Please. I miss my friend."

The last words hit you hard, and you finally let your arms drop, taking a step closer. "I miss you too," you whisper, and it feels like admitting defeat and victory all at once. "I was so scared when I saw the crash."

"Come here," he says quietly, patting the edge of the bed.

You hesitate for just a moment before crossing the room, carefully sitting beside him. "I'm sorry," you say softly. "For these past weeks. For being harsh. For—"

"I know," he interrupts, his hand finding yours. "I know. But you're here now."

You squeeze his hand gently, feeling the walls you've built crumbling completely. "You could have died today and I would have never—" you stop yourself, running your thumb over his knuckles without thinking. "All because of this stupid seat."

Franco's quiet for a moment, then lets out a small laugh that turns into a wince. "Is that what you think? That I'm after your seat?"

"Aren't you?" You try to pull your hand away but he holds on. "The meetings with Christian, the—"

"YN," he interrupts, waiting until you look at him. "I never got any offers from RedBull.”

You freeze. "What?"

"I'm not taking your seat," he says softly. "In fact, I still don't have a seat."

"But...the meetings with Horner?" You're struggling to process this. "He basically told me they were considering options for next season, and those options were you in my seat."

"Sounds to me that he was pressuring you." His eyes hold yours. "My team had meetings with RedBull, yes. But we never got a solid offer, not even for VCARB."

You feel slightly dizzy. Three weeks of avoiding him, of building up walls, of convincing yourself he was just another driver trying to take your seat...

"I'm an idiot, aren't I?" you finally manage.

"Well, you've taken the long way through the paddock just to avoid me," he teases, then becomes serious. "I wouldn't hurt you like that. You know that. Or at least, you used to."

"I got scared," you admit quietly. "When I heard about the meetings, I just... it was easier to push you away than to admit that I care about you."

The silence that follows feels heavy with everything unsaid. Finally, Franco squeezes your hand gently.

"Well," he says softly, "nearly dying seems to have worked out well for me then."

"That's not funny," but you're fighting a smile.

"Made you come see me though, didn't it?"

"I hate you," but there's no heat in it.

"No, you don't," he says confidently. "You just admitted you care about me. No taking it back now."

You roll your eyes but don't deny it. "How are you feeling, really?"

"Like I crashed a car at 200mph," he grins, then softens. "Better now though."

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liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1 and 1,908,479 others

yourinstagram champion x4 🏆so proud to be part of this journey. no one deserves it more than you @/maxverstappen1. thank you for being the best teammate anyone could ask for, on and off track.

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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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liked by maxverstappen1, francolapinto and 2,099,437 others

yourinstagram ABU DHABI WINNER! ���✨ still feels surreal to type those words. to win the last race of the season, after everything… no words can describe this feeling. thank you to every single person who never stopped believing in me, even when things got tough. to my incredible team - this one's for you. we did it! 🧡

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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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liked by pierregasly, francolapinto and 2,044,387 others

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.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 12,870 others

f1gossip Spotted: F1's power couple enjoying a day out in Monaco! Franco Colapinto and YN were seen strolling around today, looking very cozy! The pair, who have been subject to dating rumors seemed to have no interest in hiding their relationship anymore.

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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

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Music pulses from Logan's Miami beach house as you and Franco make your way up the palm-lined driveway. The December air is surprisingly warm, fairy lights twinkling in every tree and reflecting off the pool visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Your hand is loosely intertwined with Franco's, something that still gives you butterflies even after weeks of... whatever this is between you.

"Birthday boy!" you call out as Logan spots you from the entrance, where he's greeting guests in a ridiculous party hat and an even more ridiculous Hawaiian shirt.

"If it isn't my best friend and the guy who stole my seat," Logan grins, pulling you into a tight hug before turning to Franco with an exaggerated suspicious look that quickly breaks into a genuine smile. "Good to see you, man."

"Happy birthday," Franco offers with a grin, accepting Logan's enthusiastic handshake-turned-hug. "Nice shirt."

"Right? YN said it was terrible, but what does she know about fashion?"

"Hey!" you protest, but you're laughing. "I have great taste."

Logan's eyes drift meaningfully to your joined hands. "Clearly," he smirks, making you blush and Franco chuckle. "Drinks are everywhere, food's by the pool, try not to fall in."

"That was one time," you mutter as Logan gets pulled away by more arriving guests.

Franco raises an eyebrow. "One time?"

"Don't ask. Come on, I need a drink before I tell you that story."

After getting drinks, you find yourself drifting between groups, Franco's hand a constant presence at the small of your back or linked with yours. It's nice, you think, not having to overthink every interaction, every touch. Here, away from the paddock and the cameras, you can just... be.

It's about an hour into the party when Logan finds you again, now sporting two party hats and what looks suspiciously like glitter on his cheek.

"Stinks! Just the person I wanted to see," he announces, dragging you away from where Franco is deep in conversation with Alex. "Back in five," he tells Franco with an exaggerated wink that makes you roll your eyes.

"Subtle," you comment as Logan leads you to the makeshift bar.

"Please, subtle went out the window when you two showed up holding hands like teenagers at prom," he snorts, mixing drinks with practiced ease. "Speaking of which..."

"Don't start," you warn, but you're fighting a smile.

"Me? Start something? Never," he puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I just find it interesting that the same person who spent three hours ranting to me about 'that arrogant Argentine who stole your seat' is now making heart eyes at him across my party."

"You're impossible."

"And you're happy," he says softly, his teasing tone giving way to something more sincere. "Like, really happy. I haven't seen you like this in… well, ever."

You look down at your drink, feeling your cheeks warm. "Yeah, well…"

"Hey," Logan nudges your shoulder. "It's a good thing. You deserve this, YN. Someone who gets you, who understands the pressure and the crazy schedule and still looks at you like you hung the moon."

"He doesn't-"

"He absolutely does. Trust me, I've been watching him watch you all night. It's disgustingly cute."

"I'm kind of scared, Logan," you look down at your hands nervously, "Six months ago, I hated him. And now I can't picture myself apart from him. It's all happening really fast and I'm not quite sure when everything shifted, but I feel like there's no going back now. And that's terrifies me."

"Stinks," Logan says gently, "you didn't hate him. You were hurt because of how everything went down with the seat, and you projected that onto him. I get being scared. This sport… it complicates things. But I've seen how he looks at you and how you look at him. It's okay to have feelings for him."

"How do you always know what to say?" you look up at him.

"Because I'm your best friend," he squeezes your shoulder. "Now go get your man. And please kiss him at midnight so I can win the bet with Alex."

"You bet on us?!"

"The whole grid did. I have fifty bucks riding on tonight!"

Later, as midnight approaches, you find yourself on the beach with Franco, fairy lights and stars twinkling above. Your conversation with Logan keeps playing in your mind, making you fidgety.

"You okay?" Franco asks softly, touching your arm.

"FIVE MINUTES!" someone shouts from the house.

"I have feelings for you," you blurt out. "Like, real feelings. And I know it's fast and complicated and I was horrible to you at first because I was hurt about the seat thing but then you were so nice and understanding and you brought me coffee after bad practice sessions and you defended me to the press and you make me laugh even when I'm trying to be mad and your accent gets thicker when you're tired which is unfairly adorable and-"

"THREE MINUTES!"

"-and sometimes I catch you looking at me in debriefs and it makes me forget what I'm saying and Oscar keeps making these knowing faces at us and I pretend to be annoyed but actually I kind of like it and-"

"SIXTY SECONDS!"

"-and I know this could complicate everything but I can't stop thinking about you and the way you smile when you see me in the morning and how you remember how I like my coffee and-"

"TEN! NINE! EIGHT!"

"-and maybe this is crazy but I really really like you and I know we should probably talk about what this means for next season but-"

"FOUR! THREE!"

"-and I just needed you to know-"

"TWO! ONE!"

Franco cuts off your rambling with a kiss, one hand cupping your face while the other pulls you closer. You melt into him as fireworks explode overhead, your heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with the celebration around you.

When he pulls back, he's wearing that soft smile that always makes your stomach flip. "You're so cute when you rant."

"I don't rant," you protest weakly.

"Mi amor, you just spent ten minutes listing all the things you like about me, including my accent."

"Shut up."

He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours. "I want to be with you, YN. Officially, properly, no more undefined territory. I want everyone to know that you're mine and I'm yours. I want morning coffees and post-race celebrations and quiet moments like this. I want all of it, with you."

"Yeah?" you whisper, hardly daring to believe it.

"Yeah," he confirms, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "I'm crazy about you, in case my terrible attempts at flirting haven't made that obvious."

"Your flirting isn't terrible."

He kisses you again, laughing against your lips. "So… is that a yes?"

You pretend to think about it. "I don't know, Logan's friend is looking pretty good tonight…"

"Terrible," he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. "You're terrible."

"You like it," you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I like everything about you."

Your heart skips. "Everything?"

"Everything," he confirms. "Even your terrible taste in coffee."

You laugh, bright and happy, before pulling him down for another kiss. Around you, the party continues, music and waves and distant fireworks creating a perfect backdrop to this moment. When you finally break apart, you're both breathless and smiling.

"Happy New Year," you murmur.

"The happiest," he agrees, and as he leans in again, you think that maybe some feelings are worth being scared of, especially when they lead to moments like this.

Plus, you just won Logan a bet. Not that you'll tell him that.

[navybrat817]

Bucky needs to pay attention to me. 😤

I feel you, nonnie. 😂

Running on Empty

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You had a long day and need Bucky to give you some attention.

Word Count: Almost 1.3k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral sex (f. receiving), established relationship, dirty talk, humor, sassy reader, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me, lovelies), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Work left me in a mood, so apologies for this. 😂❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You huffed as you took a seat on the couch and wondered why you bothered getting out of bed today. Contrary to popular belief, Mondays weren’t always the worst. Naturally, the universe decided it would be fun to give you problem after problem today at work in retaliation for having a positive attitude. How you managed to get anything done outside of putting out so many fires, you had no idea.

And Bucky?

Your beefy, gorgeous specimen of a boyfriend had time to sit, relax, and reread his copy of The Hobbit for the umpteenth time. Manspreading in his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world. Not that you wanted him to have a bad day, too. God knows he deserved rest and relaxation.

But why was he reading instead of fucking the obvious frustration out of you?

“You’re staring at me,” he said, turning a page without looking up from his book. “Which I would say it’s creepy, but we both know you like looking at me.”

True.

You bit your lip as you unashamedly checked him out, wishing he’d lift his gaze so you could see the blue of his eyes. It was an impressive feat that his prosthetic arm matched his right arm in terms of the muscular form and structure, the fabric of his shirt stretching to accommodate his torso. It didn’t matter if he decided to hold you down with his flesh or metal hand, he loved to remind you of his strength as he pounded your desperate pussy, stretching your walls and driving into you so deep that you swore you saw the gates of heaven.

Maybe that was why you thought Bucky looked like Jesus when he was in Wakanda.

“Yeah, I am staring,” you replied, tapping a finger on your thigh when he hummed. “Because I’m trying to figure out why you’re reading instead of eating my pussy.”

Bucky waited a beat before he picked up the bookmark beside him, carefully slotting it between the pages before he shut it and gave you his full attention. “You mind repeating that?” He asked, his voice gruff as he tucked some of his hair behind his ear. He wore it down today, but kept a hair tie around his right wrist.

Perfect for him to pull it back when he went down on you.

He smirked and scratched his scruffy chin when you narrowed your eyes. You craved the burn it left behind when he rubbed his face against your most sensitive area. He knew that.

“You want me to spell it out for you, Bucko? Fine,” you said, leaning back on the cushions as you spread your legs and planted your feet on the couch. Your hands formed a perfect V by your mound, which might as well have been a neon fucking sign since you ditched your under minutes ago, as he tried to hold back a groan. “See this? I have a perfectly good pussy right here and it isn’t going to eat or fuck itself.”

Bucky ran his tongue along his bottom lip before he inhaled. The beautiful bastard was actually sniffing out your arousal. You almost wished you could go back in time and let the scientists know that the serum they created helped super soldiers use their heightened senses to get their dicks wet.

Not that you were complaining since Bucky eyed you like he wanted to devour you whole.

“I’m sorry, baby. Didn’t realize eating or fucking your pussy was on my ‘To Do’ list today,” he said, purposely running a large hand over his crotch.

Fucking tease with his fucking massive hand and cock.

You pouted when he didn’t make a move to get up. “I am your ‘To Do’ list. I’m your girlfriend and I want you to do me because I had a long day,” you huffed, dipping your hand between your spread legs before you batted your eyes at him. “You haven’t fucked me in ages. It isn’t fair.”

Your beautiful man snarled at that, making you shiver as you teased yourself. You didn’t dip a finger in, but you did spread your growing wetness around as he watched. “I fucked you last night,” he reminded you.

“It feels like ages,” you corrected yourself. Thanks to him, you experienced what all-consuming desire felt like and you didn’t like going long without him having you. He couldn’t fault you for that, even if he did thoroughly wear you out the night before. “I’m so empty, Bucky, and I have this tight, wet hole for you to fill up. It’s all yours if you want it.”

His nostrils flared as he finally pushed himself up, his fingers flexing as you kept rubbing yourself with a sweet smile. “It’s my pussy,” he rasped, palming himself again as he stood in front of you. “And since she’s so needy that I can’t even finish a chapter of my book, stop touching her and let me get to work.”

Like you don't have a needy cock, big boy.

The growl in his voice brought a moan out of you, but you didn’t stop touching yourself. “Unless you mark it,” you began, looking him dead in the eye as you brought a glistening finger to your lips and traced along them like a gloss. “It isn’t yours.”

You managed not to smirk triumphantly when he took the hair tie from his wrist and pulled his luscious hair back. “She knows she’s mine. Bratty pussy just wants some attention,” he said as he dropped to his knees and leaned in to nose at your slit. “But I don't mind leaving my mark again.”

“Did you just call my pussy a brat?” You questioned, the last word coming out as a strangled moan when Bucky darted his tongue out, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

“No, I called my pussy a brat. Good thing I know how to tame her,” he said, winking up at you when you looked down. The playful look in his eyes made your heart swell. He was so beautiful it almost hurt to look at him. “Kisses are a good way to start before I pump her full.”

“A very good start,” you smiled, clenching in anticipation.

“And she loves my kisses,” he replied before dragging his mouth along your folds. The sensation that shot through you almost had your thighs clamping around his head, but it wasn’t possible with the hold he had on you. “I gotta say though. She's a messy little thing. Gets my mouth so wet.”

“Bucky,” you whimpered, tugging some of his hair free as he gently wrapped his mouth around your clit.

He hummed and lightly sucked on it before he pulled away, making you whine in protest when the sparks of pleasure fizzled out. “Speaking of kisses, I almost forgot.”

You gave him a small smile when he leaned up to tenderly kiss your mouth, letting him swallow down your moan as you opened up for him. It ended far too soon for your liking, making you loop a finger around his dog tags to pull him back to your lips. “Love you, Bucky,” you whispered.

On the days you practically ran on empty, you appreciated having someone like him by your side.

“Love you, too, baby,” he whispered back, his gaze soft as he slid back down your body. “Now hold on and let me make you and my pussy forget all about that long day.”

You knew he’d ask later if you were okay, but for now you’d let him shut your brain off and make you feel boneless.

And maybe you'd offer to warm his cock later as a thank you while he caught up on reading.

We all deserve that, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[silassinclair]

Hi!

Can I request Maddox with a darling who lives to read, maybe he catches her reading some old romance books in an abandoned house they shack up in or something like that

Btw I live your writing ♥️

As someone who loves to read I am obligated to write for this req 😤🫡 Thanks for the request tho!! Hope you like it :-)

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Bookworm Reader

CW// Maddox is annoying, Reader being a little perv Masterlist Here!!

The new house Maddox found was lovely. It had decently okay furniture and a vast collection of old books on the shelf. It's small with only two bedrooms and one bathroom but it was charming. But what caught your interest was the big oak wood bookshelf. You couldn't even remember the last time you picked up a book. Being on the run with Maddox made time fly.

"Who would leave all these books behind? They're all in great condition." You mutter to yourself as you take a blue and purple book with gold trim off the shelf. Tracing your fingers down the spine of the hardcover novel you appreciate the craftsmanship. It was clearly expensive, something you could no longer afford. Your Dad bought you many books like these but now you were pretty much broke. You only had Maddox to rely on now.

Speaking of Maddox you had no clue where he was. Which you didn't really care, he always disturbed your peace. Cracking open the book you sit down on the loveseat and start reading. It was a romance book about a huntsman who fell in love with a duchess. The story was beautiful as it was exhilarating.

"Oh wow, you into that kinda stuff?"

You snap the book shut instantly, a mini cloud of dust poofs from the pages. Maddox chuckles huskily behind you, leaning down and resting his chin on the back of the loveseat.

"Oh don't be embarrassed princess, it was getting to the good part. What did it say again? Oh! Ahem-"

Maddox coughs into his hand and smirks. Deepening his voice he quotes the passage in a deep, British-like accent,

"He caresses the duchess' milky thighs, her womb felt of silk wrapped around his ma-"

"OH HUSH!" You whip around and smack the outlaw's head, his hat nearly flying off. But he only laughs at your flustered state.

"You're filthy." You groan and put the book back on the shelf where it was. But Maddox follows behind you and takes the book into his own hands and opens it up. Skimming through the pages he smirks.

"I'm filthy? Sweetheart you're the one readin' this junk." Maddox shuts the book and puts it back. Putting his hand up on the shelf he leans against it while looking down at your shorter self.

"Well it is a romance book." Rolling your eyes you choose a different book. This time you pick a title you're familiar with, Pride and Prejudice.

"Now leave me alone you brute. I'd like to relax for once." With that you walk away and go outside. Finding a nice tree you sit beneath it and read the book. Reading reminded you of home, the home that was ripped from you. In a way it was escapism which is unhealthy but a girl can dream right?

Hours pass and the sun begins to set, casting an orange glow across the cloudy sky. The words on the page become harder to read as the sun sinks lower and the moon rises. You didn't want it to end. You know you could read inside but that damn outlaw was inside. You just wanted to stay out here forever with the natural ambience of wind and birds.

Footsteps approach you and you already know who it is. Looking up you see him. Black denim jeans, a burgundy vest, twin revolvers around his waist, and a dark brown cowboy hat on his head. And of course that bandana covering the bottom half of his face. Anytime you asked him about his face he got ticked off so you avoided the subject. But you couldn't help but be curious.

"You're starin' sweetheart." His husky voice breaks the silence. There’s a hint of a Spanish accent mixed in with his Southern drawl. You can't help but think about what it would be like if you and him met under different circumstances. Would he save you from bandits? Offer to buy you a drink at the saloon?

Would you two have a storybook romance just like in the books you adore?

"Hey."

He's right in front of you now, crouched to your height. His gloved hand pets your hair and you're frozen. He has you in a trance that you make no effort to free yourself from. His dark amber eyes are crinkled in slight concern over your unusual silence.

"What..?" You say softly.

"It's gettin' dark. Unless you wanna be dinner for the coyotes then I suggest comin' back in. I'll cook up some beans so hurry your little bum up."

Well there goes the moment. You groan and get up off the grass, your back cracking as you stretch. Your eyes watch as Maddox walks back into the house. His hips sway as he walks, you never really payed attention to that before. His ass looks pretty round in those pants to-

"Ugh, what is wrong with me.." Groaning, you follow after him.

[cream-stew]

listennn thoma enjoying teasing naturally shy and easily embarrassed afab reader by riling them up and making a mess of them then asking them to ride him 😋 he's like 'if you want it then come and get it' i would honestly pass away

🔞 minors dni

warnings: afab reader, riding, reader is super embarrassed yet very into it

// note: here you go🤝

he loves getting you all hot and bothered without ever getting to the point, leaving you with soaked panties and no relief at all :(

you only have innocent intentions when you sit on his lap, wanting to cuddle, but he always dips his hand under your skirt so he can rub over your clothed pussy, not caring if someone sees what he's doing, and you try to at least stifle your moans so it's not as obvious :( you'll hold on to his arm, at the same time begging him to stop and to continue, but you're too shy to vocalize your naughty thoughts :((

he's not happy with that ofc he wants you to come out of your shell more😤 he'll stop right before you cum in your panties, and pull his hand back, gripping your waist instead and massaging your hips with his thumbs.

"you have to use your voice", he whispers into your ear, "prove me just how filthy your thoughts are"

but you're too embarrassed to speak!! your pretty eyes welling with tears at the thought that he won't let you cum, so you try at least to grind your ass on his clothed erection, hoping that it'll be enough to sway him…

"mmn, you know what? how about you ride me instead?", you feel him grin against the back of your neck, before he presses a soft kiss on your skin, "that way you won't have to tell me what you want, and you can just take it for yourself"

it's still embarrassing as fuck, but to you it feels more doable than just telling him point blank you want him to fuck you so hard that you'll be screaming in pleasure…

you reach backwards for his fly and unzip his pants, then your trembling fingers barely poke the bulge in his underwear… oh he's so big already… you slowly tug his cock free, and give it a few awkward strokes without even looking, whimpering at how hot and hard it feels in your grip. he laughs at how slowly you're moving, yet he encourages you and praises you for making it this far already, and you rise a bit on your knees so you can pull your soaked panties to the side and press the tip of his cock to your entrance.

you whimper when it breaches you, sobbing a lil bit as you sit on that huge cock, and he praises you again, leaving more kisses down your throat.

"so good, your pussy feels perfect around my cock. how about you start moving now, huh? I bet you'll love it, yeah, you'll love bouncing on my cock, won't you?"

you try rising up again and sitting back down, and you do love it, you love the way it stretches you so deeply inside, and the way the cockhead hits your cervix when you let yourself fall back down on his lap, moaning and panting heavily!!

you struggle to keep riding him at a good pace, but he does absolutely nothing to help you. when you're finally too tired to keep going, you're still far from cumming, and you feel yourself break: "please fuck me", you start begging him, and with a pleased grin, he flips you two so that he's pinning you to the couch cushions.

"see? I knew you could do it"

[sweetbunpura]

Honestly I ADORE the idea of the tags just being like…

#accidental boyfriend acquirement x2

#instructions unclear: dating the tweels

#getting together after almost getting murdered

#is this normal for mers?

#…or maybe underwater mobsters?

#oh just the tweels? okay cool

#hey quick question is it normal for your new bfs mob family members to break into your house and fight you?

#asking for a friend

#gratuitous eels

#WHY ARE THERE SO MANY?!

Okay I may have gone overboard with the tags but either way you get what I mean. It’s just SO FUNNY TO ME???? 🤣

Like I def don’t mind platonic fics (my username is the-ace-reader for a reason lmao) but I also just love the vibe when characters are close friends and they just fit so well together they just naturally start dating and it’s so simple.

Aaaaaand I also like when it’s to the point where others are like “wait… you WEREN’T dating?!” and you can’t look at Symbiotic Relationship and tell me Yuu’s friends would NOT say that about the three of them together! 😂

I think you could go any which way you’d like - I mean. Obviously. It’s your story. 🤦‍♀️ But I think whether you try to stick with your og plan of having them be platonic or switch and have them end up in a poly relationship, it’ll be fun either way! Because the way you write them all is SO fun!

And I really do hope you write that sequel. I think it would be SO funny if the tweels family broke into Yuu’s house and Yuu just 🥊

Yuu may be Shrimpy, but shrimpy Yuu is not! The human can and will fight! 💪😤

#Giving the leech name a correct definition

The funniest thing is that someone could point all of this out to Yuu and she'd be like "Well, damn..."

"Are you gonna tell them this was an misunderstanding?"

"...I mean, I'm not saying no to the idea"

"oh seven..."

The other idea is that the whole family can smell Jade and Floyd on Yuu and they can smell Yuu on the twins. When asked about it, it's like multiple nails being hit on the head. Jade and Floyd are embarrassed while Yuu's just winging it, she weirdly calm about the whole thing.

Anyone breaks into Yuu's house, it's an immediate "these hands are rated e for everyone" moment, and she's winning against the encounter too. Has to be stopped by being picked up by Floyd.

"Shrimpy- Oh, is that the bat I gave ya~?"

"Yeah."

"...."

"Floyd, don't."

"I wasn't gonna! ...But she's using the bat i gave her-"

"Floyd."

[nanawritesit]

Yeosang Boyfriend Headcanons!

this guy is such a lil sweetie! he was a bit shy to approach you at first 🥺

as i said before in my previous ateez headcanons, yeosang is a big starer. he would legit just stare at you for half an hour and consider it flirting

however once he senses that you’re interested in him as well, his flirt game is turned up to the MAX

he drives you crazy the way he gives you delicate little touches, your heart stops every time he brushes your hair out of your face or pulls a loose thread off your sweater

when you weren’t afraid to flirt back with him, he knew you were the one. the second you started teasing him and giving him a hard time, he was like, “this is it. i need them.”

he’s so fricking observant too. he’ll memorize every little detail about you so he can bring it up in a conversation later

he’s also an impulsive gift giver

“hey remember that one time you said you mentioned that obscure cartoon you used to watch as a kid? well i saw a keychain of it and thought of you, so here you go!”

he tried really hard to wait to ask you out, wanting to give you time to pine over him and create a slow burn, but he just CANT WAIT to make you his.

and he was so tickled when you said yes, he would not stop giggling like a little school girl 🥰

he also knows how adorable you think his laugh and fanged smile is, and will use it against you to make you fall for him even harder

ALRIGHT MOVING ON TO ACTUAL RELATIONSHIP STUFF-

his excellent observance doesn’t end when y’all start dating. even if you just have the slightest change in your breathing pattern, he notices and is like “hey what’s wrong”

he’s the first one to notice when you get a new haircut, knows you’re sick the second he looks at you, adjusts your necklace when it gets turnt around, ties your shoe when the laces come undone…

because he stares so much he knows every little detail of your appearance

the different specks of color in your eyes, all your little moles and freckles, any scars you might have, the way you part your hair, whether or not you’re wearing makeup and what kind…

speaking of which, he dies a little on the inside every time you kiss his birthmark ❤️ he was scared to show you his bare face at first, but you were quick to tell him how beautiful he is (as you should 😤)

yeosang calls his partner “honey,” no i do not take criticism

and in his deep ass voice? ugh i would melt 😭

*when you surprise him at work* “honey! what are you doing here?”

*barging into your apartment* “oh my honey, i brought you your favorite food!”

*coming back in from getting the mail* “hey honey, come look at this new drone i got!”

he may seem all cool and statuesque, but deep down he’s just a big nerd 🤓 he’s always asking you to come to the park with him to fly his drones

makes you help him sort his candies by color 💀

he loves that you never see him as judgmental or picky because of his honest nature. you always take special interest in his opinions, and admire that he’s not afraid to speak his mind

and he does the same for you as well! he thinks so highly of you that he’s always interested in what you have to say about things. he wants to know all of your likes and dislikes :)

you guys tell each other EVERYTHING, there’s not much you guys keep secret from each other 💀

you know all of his memories with the boys, his childhood stories, his most embarrassing moments.. he knows all the drama in your friend group, your family situation, and your deepest secrets

he’s a morning person, so if you’re not then you’ll have to get used to him waking up early and fluttering around the house doing things

(and um i’m not a morning person but hearing his voice get even deeper in the morning would motivate me to wake up 😳)

after a while he gets lonely and starts pestering you to wake up and spend time with him in a pouty voice 🥺

*poking your face and shaking your shoulder* “honeyyyy, it’s almost noon… the day is half over and you haven’t even cuddled me yet…”

he thinks you’re incredibly cute when you’re half asleep and groggy in the morning :)

he ends up threatening to cook you breakfast which makes you LEAP out of bed 💀

consequently, he’s not a big night owl unless he has to be… if you’re one, he ends up converting you to a morning person because he’s so fricking persistent 🤦🏼‍♀️

but for a while if you’re hanging out with him late at night he’ll start nodding off, and when you wake him he’ll go “i wasn’t asleep” 🤡

san and wooyoung will try to call you guys at 9 pm to see if you want to go out to get drinks with them, only to find out that both your phones were shut off, and you were both in your pajamas doing face masks and watching a movie on the couch together, fading in and out of consciousness ❤️

wooyoung once called you his grandparents 💀 y’all know it’s bad if he’s not taking an opportunity to call hongjoong and seonghwa old

caring for the scrapes on his elbows and knees when he falls off his skateboard 🥰

he also desperately wants to teach you how to skateboard if you don’t already know how! he’s so patient and gentle with you, always letting you fall into his arms and catching you when you slip :)

“it’s okay honey, i’ve got you! i know it’s scary, but i promise it’s so fun once you get the hang of it. you’re actually doing really well for your first time!”

you guys will eventually become the cool skater couple that everyone is jealous of 💀

he ALWAYS smells good, and his scent somehow embeds itself in all your clothes and furniture so even when he’s not there, you’re thinking of him

when you see him after you’ve been apart for a long time, of course you’ll run up to each other for a bone crushing hug, and as soon as his familiar scent hits you your eyes well with tears

he hates seeing you cry, even if it’s from happiness

*wiping your tears with a reassuring smile* “oh honey, please don’t cry… we’re together now.”

he’s constantly putting your needs before his own, you actually had to sit him down and explain to him that while you love and appreciate his selflessness, he needs to take care of himself more often

he’s not the biggest fan of PDA, but he does enjoy holding hands… he likes walking with you and swinging your interwoven hands back and forth ❤️

you’ll catch him smiling at the sidewalk and ask him what’s up, he just says “i like the way your hand fits in mine.”

yeosang is a big forehead kisser 🥰 it’s his favorite way to show his affection in a sweet and delicate way

he’s so sensitive to your touch… if you just brush your hands over his shoulders and arms, it’s enough to make his heart flutter :)

there are a lot of nights were you guys just lay in bed next to each other and talk about EVERYTHING… it just goes on and on until one of you falls asleep

he never really lashes out on you, no matter how upset he is. before every reaction, his words and actions are carefully chosen and thought over.

he’s also very good at forgiveness. that’s not to say that you can treat him badly, but everyone makes mistakes and he knows that. he has this amazing ability to see things from different perspectives that allows him to forgive you when you slip up

overall, having yeosang as a boyfriend is a blast. he’s so sweet and attentive, and you never run out of things to talk about. and even if you did, he would just make something up to fill the silence! no matter what, you always feel so loved and appreciated with him by your side 🥰

[melanieph321]

Ruben Dias x Reader - A House Is Not A Home Part 7/8

This chapter makes me 😤 but it had to be written.

Ruben's wife dies during childbirth along with their son. Ruben hasn't been in a relationship since. Y/N is a single mother to a four year old boy. She buys a house in the small town that Ruben lives in. The house needs alot of fixing which Ruben helps with, resulting in him slowly falling in love with Y/N. However, falling in love with Y/N makes Ruben feel like he is betraying his dead wife.

Enjoy!

A memorial for Gina was held at your house on the 25th. Katarina helped you with the food and David made sure to solve any logistics so that Ruben wouldn't have to. Alot of people in town had known Gina and most of them came to honor her memory. You had never imagined your house being this full of people. Especially people you didn't know.

"Hi."

"Hey."

You found Ruben alone on the porch, a bottle of beer in his hand. It was his third one for the day. You felt guilty for keeping count.

"Food's ready if you want to head inside?" You said.

Ruben took a slow chug of his beer. "Nah, I'm good thanks."

"I could make you a plate, bring it out here if you like?"

Ruben tilted his head to look at you, a crooked smile on his lips. "It's okay Y/N, I'm not hungry."

You nodded, but did not leave the porch. "Mind if I join you?" You didn't think he would mind anyway and prepared to sit down. As you bent your knees Ruben's arm brought you down to sit between his legs on the step below where he was sitting. He tucked you in by wrapping his arms around your body, letting you relax with your back against his chest. There was a minute of silence as the sound of nature around you took over. Birds sang in the trees above your heads and a cricket lurked somewhere in the tall grass. You found it difficult to see beyond the property. There was fog in the distance. Not even the barn could be spotted amongst the evaporating clouds.

"Do you miss her?" You asked. Perhaps the question wasn't justified in a time like this,  but you wanted Ruben to feel comfortable talking about Gina with you, somthing you knew he wasn't.

"Every day." He sighed, his chin resting on the top of your head.

"What do you miss the most about her?"

Ruben had to ponder for a moment, perhaps let the memories of his wife resurface in his mind. "Her smile." He smiled. "And her kindness. Gina always wanted the best for everyone and would go out of the way for people, expecting nothing back. It's where we differ."

You tilted your head up, letting Ruben see the frown on your face. He raised a brow as to ask 'did I say somthing wrong?'

"You helping me with the house, was that not you showing your kindness?"

He nodded. "Yes, but I had my reasons."

"What reasons?" You sat up, wanting to face him.

"Like I said Y/N, that house had been haunting me for years. I was glad to sell it to you, but I wasn't gonna let you stay in a house with no roof. Helping you clear the house after the storm was not me being kind, it was strictly business."

You wanted to argue further, ask if Ruben kissing you had been strictly business as well? However, your questions silenced within you since Ruben was probably hurting. You settled down between his legs again and let his rough hands outline the contours of your face. Behind you the front door came ajar. Both you and Ruben turned around to see David, with Johnny bouncing in his arms.

"Has any of you seen Emily? Kat says she's missing."

Ruben got up almost immediately, forcing you to do the same. "I'll check upstairs." He said.

"Alright. Johnny and myself will check the basement, but I doubt it she's down there." This left you on the porch, feeling ill willed that you had no interest in looking for Gina's sister Emily. Nevertheless you grabbed a coat from inside and stepped out again. You might as well cover some ground as to say that you participated in the search. You came as far as to the fields where the fog was as thickest. But as you stood near the fence you could see the outline of the barn, it's door swaying with the wind.

"Emily?"

Light rain had begun to fall when you reached the barn. You hurried to take cover under its high roof.

"You threw all of it away?"

You turned as a shadow swept behind you. It was Emily, wearing nothing but a black dress and a pair of gummiboots.

"My god Emily, what are you doing in here? Aren't you cold?"

Emily gave you one of her fretful glares. You had gotten quite used to them since she stepped into your house. She made it seem like everything you did was wrong or insulting, weather that would be clearing a plate from a table or hand Johnny his juice. For some reason Emily seemed to constantly judge you. Obviously disliking you.

"You threw all of it away, all of her things." Emily hissed, ignoring your question.

"What things?" Emily was older than you, but only by a couple of years. Along with Gina she had studied law in Manchester, now serving as a divorce attorney at a law firm in the city. Compared to her you felt so unacomplished with your nursing degree.

"My sister things, all of her belongs. They used to be here in this barn." She said, clearly upset not to have found them there.

"They were given to charity." You said. "It was Ruben's idea actually."

"He would never." She chuckled. "What else have you brainwashed him to do, huh?"

"Pardon?" You frowned.

"You've forced Ruben to give away all the last memories of my sister, what else have you done? Tricked him to thinking that your son could ever replace the child he lost?"

You caught yourself wanting to say something that you would regret, but quickly redeemed yourself. Just like Ruben this must be a very difficult day for Emily as well. "I know you're hurting Emily." You said, your voice low and reasonable. "But making others around you hurt too, won't make the pain go away."

"Who are you to...." Emily flinched, but you interrupted her. "Ruben hasn't done anything to deserve this." You said. "But there is nothing wrong with moving on. Surley it's what Gina would have wanted."

"What do you know?" Emily's face trembled with rage as tears slid down her cheeks. "What Gina would have wanted, Ruben and I are going to make that happen, sooner than you think."

Your eyebrows furrowed, unsure what she was indicating.

"He hasn't told you I see." Emily looked amused. "I suppose he wanted to spare the time you had left together."

"What are you talking about Emily?" You couldn't stand her fretful glare. The way Ruben described Gina, she would have been nothing like her sister.

"Gina always wanted a house in the country."

"Yes, so I have heard." Katarina and David told you this some time ago.

"But she also wanted a house in the sun. Ruben suggested his home country, Portugal. The sun there definitely shines more than it does here. All he needed to do was get rid of the house. Luckily he found you."

You were beginning to understand.

"Upon my arrival I was given the green light from the land owners in Madeira, and what would be greater than me delivering the news to Ruben personally. Turns out he and you had gotten a little too familiar during the treaty of the property. A distraction, I think he called you."

"You're lying!" You exclaimed, by now you really were pissed. Emily's uneven stans also suggested that she has had a little too much to drink to cope with her emotions. What she was saying to you couldn't possibly be the truth.

"Ask him yourself." She laughed. "Am I not telling your little friend the truth Ruben?"

You turned around as Emily's gaze was focus somewhere over your shoulder. Because of the increasing rain you hadn't heard him come up behind you. Ruben, standing in the rain, looked both guilty and innocent at the same time.

"Y/N...let me explain."

He had overheard your conversation and these were his first choice of words.

"It's true?" You frowned.

"Yes ." Emily spoke behind you, but your eyes were only on Ruben.

"Yes and no." He said. "I was planing on selling the house and use the money to build a new one in Portugal, but...."

"But?" You chuckled as it was absurd. How come he hadn't told you?

"But then I met you." He nodded. "And I couldn't decide."

"So you're still contemplating it, moving to Portugal?" You were quite stunned. Ruben's answer was slilence which was enough for you.

"Y/N, don't."

You stepped outside, the rain showering you in seconds. You turned back to the barn where Ruben stood in the doorway. Emily had shied away in the back, perhaps too difficult for her to remain standing.

"For once in my life I need someone to choose me." You said.

"Y/N, please, come inside. We can talk about this inside. " He stretched out his hand, offering it to you.

You shook your head. "There is nothing for us to talk about, I have a son Ruben and like always, I choose him. But for once...." Your voice trailed off. You thought about Johnny's father and how much this reminded you of the day you told him that you were pregnant. "For once..." You said, wiping your eyes. From rain not tears. "For once I wish someone would choose me. I was stupid to think that that someone would be you."

"Y/N, wait!" Ruben stepped out into the rain, chasing after you. He didn't chase for long, of course. Emily was left in the barn, drunk and unable to return to the house by herself. And so Ruben made a choice. He chose her.

[meowzfordayz]

when they’re inebriated — inosuke, tanjirou, giyuu

Author’s Note: took a slightly diff angle than the OG prompt, but am content w/ the fluff + softness of the results.🤗

when they’re inebriated — inosuke, tanjirou, giyuu

Hashibira Inosuke x Reader, Kamado Tanjirou x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~1,000

CW: alcohol, explicit language

Emergency Request Fulfilled: If you're already busy you can just ignore this but I need some drunk inosuke/giyuu/tanjiro defending their (afab preferably) partner. Been having a hard time and this would be so sweet. You can choose whatever else but at least this. Don't rush it tho take your time!!!

~faqs~

Drunk + Inosuke = defending your honor against anything and everything, anyone and everyone

Mirror looking at you funny? 🪞😒 He’ll punch it if you don’t stop him in time 🪞🥊😤

Someone tries to compliment you? He’ll unceremoniously shove himself between your bodies, which would be sweet if that someone was actually harassing/threatening you 🥲

“Inosuke, honey…” amusement tugging at the corner of your mouth

“WHAT?” eyes wide, concern etched into his forehead as he pats you down determinedly, “Are you okay?!”

“Yeah, um, they just said my shoes were nice,” snorting, “I was about to tell them where I bought them from.”

*cue Inosuke swiveling around faster than you can blink*

*jabbing a finger in the general direction of the poor soul who DARED to compliment you*

“NO STEALING MY SWEETHEART’S SHOES!”

For fuck’s sake 🫠😂

Mind you, this man will hiss at a baby if said baby doesn’t smile at you 🥴

As for when there’s actually an issue?

He, surprisingly, prioritizes you (vs beating up the issue)

Maybe it’s the subtle fear or discomfort in your eyes

Or how your nails dig a little sharper into his bicep than usual

But he’ll immediately lead you somewhere else, #riperoni to whoever happens to be in the way, thumb rubbing gentle circles into your skin as he holds your hand 🥺

“Are you okay?” bristling anger simmering beneath his quiet devotion to you, “Do I need to call anyone? Should we go home? Find something to eat?”

Chest aching as you pull him into a tight hug, strong arms wrapping secure and steady around your waist, his lips pressed warm against your head

“I’ve got you,” murmured into your hair, “Just don’t let go of me, ‘kay? Otherwise I might start a fight.” 🤫

Tanjirou rarely drinks

Mostly bc he already feels warm and fuzzy beside you, let alone adding alcohol to the mix

But when he does?

Prepare to have one (1) Kamado Tanjirou glued to your front, your back, your side, for the remainder of the evening 🤗

Usually, holding hands, kissing your cheek, giving you a piggyback ride, is the extent of his PDA

Drunk Tanjirou, however, is significantly more comfortable invading your personal space bubble 😌

🫧 *pop* 🫧

Ofc, he absolutely respects any boundaries you set, but gosh he’s like a kitten who just wants to curl up on your shoulder and purr 🐾

But obvi he can’t exactly curl up on your shoulder, sooo he settles for everything else (purring included)

If you’re staying in, then expect his head in your lap, or you pulled onto his lap

And if you’re watching something, then expect him to ask you questions every other minute bc he’d rather nuzzle his face in your thighs/neck than actually focus on the screen

Getting up for a snack? 🍿

You bet he’s getting up too, kisses peppered across your shoulder blades as you open the fridge, warm palms grabbing your hips to spin you around and touch his nose to yours as soon as you find whatever you were looking for

Kamado Tanjirou will follow you into the bathroom if you let him, preparing perfectly portioned and folded toilet paper for your convenience 🧻

If you’re out and about, then expect him to prefer somewhere less crowded, a park or something nature-esque, weather permitting

He knows packed clubs and bustling bars aren’t the best for showering you in affection

But moonlit strolls along secluded streets are wonderful for spontaneous twirling, dips, and other overly elaborate dance maneuvers ✨🌙

Sometimes he’ll hum a vague tune

Most of the time, a tender, swaying melody guides your footsteps, caress of darkness audible to only you and him

“You’re beautiful,” he declares, the world in his eyes as he gazes at you, “Thank you for being my partner.”

—regarding the OG prompt… drunk Tanjirou def has a dangerous coolness if/when someone bothers you

—an almost surreal smoothness to his voice, silvery politeness hardly masking his underlying intent as he warns your offender

—“You should leave.”

Is typically stoic

Yada yada

It takes a lot to pry a compliment out of Giyuu

“Giyuu, how do I look?” twirling in your loosely wrapped towel, droplets glistening on your dewy skin

“Like you need help drying off.”

Really? 🙄

C’mon Dude™ 🙃

Dw, he was seconds away from being ~disrespectful 😏🫢

Sadly, respect won 😔

Or: “Giyuu, what’s your favorite thing about me?”

*insert Giyuu raising an eyebrow*

*insert Giyuu grimacing*

*insert Giyuu running away*

Again, he was seconds away from plopping his raw heart into your cupped hands 🥺🫀

Sadly, emotional constipation won ☹️

—How this man’s even in a relationship, Idk 😃

—Bc he’s cute ☺️

—That’s how

—And endearing (somewhat) 🤔

The secret, however, to getting his elusive affection and adoration (and praise), is actually quite simple

Pour Giyuu a drink, maybe two, and all his reservations dissipate 🍶

“Babe, you look gorrrgeous,” hands flailing happily, “Absolutely stunning!” gesturing vaguely, “Your HAIR!”

“What about my hair?” amusement in your smile as he gasps excitedly

“It’s just so PRETTY!” falling forward into you *oof*, inhaling deeply *ahh*, eyes closing contentedly, “Smells so NICE.”

Pouting as you gently push him upward, “Am I too heavy?” making grabby hands (fricking Giyuu + grabby hands 😭🥰), “Love, I love you!”

—Be still my heart 🫠💓

Ask him, “Giyuu, what’s your favorite thing about me?”

And he’ll get this serious look in his eyes, body suddenly so still you wonder if he’s miraculously sobered up, voice contemplative and lower than usual

“My favorite thing about you is how you love yourself. That shit’s hard. I know I’m no good at it, at loving myself, so getting to watch you cherish yourself is… it’s a gift,” uncharacteristic tears welling, blubbering, “I just! I just love you, sooo much!” wailing now, “SOooooo muCH!”

Side note: he gradually becomes better about being vulnerable while sober too, but there’s something naive and lighthearted about the occasional indulgence of Drunk Giyuu™

—regarding the OG prompt… drunk Giyuu isn’t particularly ~helpful if/when someone bothers you, mostly bc he’s flabbergasted that anyone could bear to offend you 😖

—he’s more than capable of defending you physically/removing you from an unsafe situation, but in terms of ~emotional damage?

—you might need to reassure him 💀, bc he’s 11/10 devastated that, apparently, not everyone perceives you as the Divine Being™ that you obviously are 😠😍

[prismuffin]

[Okay so homie ignore this if ur busy I just NEED 47 content and ur one of the only ones to provide it a req I guess????? LOVE U HOMIE 💞💞💞💞💞💞-

Anyway:]

PICK YOUR POISON:

Romantic:

So 47 with a genderfluid reader (Bc I KNOW u simp for this man and u are absolutely unhinged when it comes to your fav characters 😤)? Maybe a romantic candlelit dinner and it's basically really fluffy??? Imagine this it's been 2 years since he's taken you into captivity he's been nothing but kind to you and you find yourself catching stockholm syndrome. Maybe they share a sweet little kiss?

Or or or

Platonic:

Dad!47 with an agender reader? Maybe reader tries to escape or just in general rebels against dear old dad? I just wanna see how you'd write reader running away and 47 reacting to reader escaping from his tightly secured home- 😈

(Also remember that if u pick one I'll put the one u didn't pick in a new req once they're open again and I'll add another option to pick from)

A/n: Ahh yes, hello Ghost YOU DID NOT HAVE TO EXPOSE ME ABT SIMPING FOR 47 OK?!- But Ik you like a dad!47 so I went with that one

Escapade

Yandere!Father!Agent 47 x gn!reader

( summary: after asking to go to a party leads to an argument with your father, 47, you decide to rebel for one night and leave anyway )

Warnings?: Mentions of drinking, Yandere 47 so, possessiveness, stalking/being followed, mentions of an argument, 47 cornering the reader, mentions of guns, mentions of poisons and poisoning, normal Hitman violence- reader can be a teen or adult you choose!!

!-!more under the cut!-!

“No.”

“What?”

“I said no.”

“Why not?!”

47’s deadpan expression didn’t waver as he took a sip of his tea, the warmth of the liquid was evident to you even from where you stood. “Because I said so.” You almost audibly laughed at that, currently you were attempting asking your father to let you leave the house to go to a party that you had been invited to by one of the only people your father lets you talk to. He’s let you out of the house before so you don’t get why he won’t let you go this time. "That's not even an answer." "I don't want you going, drop it." You closed your mouth, swallowing any further protests as you did. "Fine," quickly, you stormed off to your room, making sure to not slam the door.

You huffed as you stuffed a bag with some extra clothing. You carefully picked out which garments you threw in there, you'd change later. You picked up a hunters knife from your desk and hid it in your boot. You’ve been with your dad for long enough to know that sneaking out was possible but not plausible. After he notices your absence, you practically have a specific amount of time before he locates you and drags you back home.

You’ve only attempted this once before way back when you’d first been taken. You were a child then and were able to escape using the vents that led through to the outside. You were only gone for what felt like a matter of seconds in your kid brain, though in reality you know if was longer. It took you a while to accept your “new life” as 47 put it. He was your father and though you know he took you from your real parents at this point there’s not much you can do about it now. You can’t remember what your old life used to be like so you don’t feel as bad when thinking about it. Instead, you’re glad that your father cares so much and even after earning his trust enough for you to go out semi-often his protective nature can still get overbearing at times. You’ve totally spotted him trailing you when you’re out with the only people that 47 let’s you talk to. Sometimes you wonder if they’re just actors he’s hired to make you stop whining about not meeting new people.

You scoffed at the thought as you zipped up your bag, you had a few rations of food and some water bottles in case you got thirsty, you were to wait until your father goes to bed and then you’d act, he sleeps around the same time every night when he’s not taking mission and it’s usually a pretty early time so there should be no problem with getting to the party late. All you had to do now was wait.

—TS—

The house was cold and dark, the shiny tiles reflected the light from the full moon that shone through the large windows. You'd be foolish to go through the front door knowing the system your dad has set up this whole house would come down on top of you if you were to trigger any alarms. Your heart raced and you steadied your breathing as you walked barefoot through the halls. Your father had an armory within the house that had a crawlspace designed for quick escapes. The heavy disguised door let out an even colder draft as you opened it. Flicking on your flashlight you pointed it into the dark room, stepping in and shutting the weighted door behind you as quietly as you could. You swear you could see your breath as you creeped through the cold armory, elevating your heels to feel less of the cold on your feet.

You quickly placed the flashlight in your mouth as you crouched down near the wall. Pulling a lockpick from your pocket, you undid the lock of the crawlspace as quick as you could, the cold of the room stiffening your movements slightly. After getting it open you crawled in, throwing your backpack further ahead first so that you could properly close the door to the makeshift tunnel. The space led you to a small room near the garage, the only way out other than the place you just came from was a large vent that sat in the corner. With a bit of struggle you were able to get high enough to unscrew it and crawl through.

You had done it, you'd made it outside, and though you knew you'd left an obvious trail of where you'd gotten out it was fine to you. Avoiding the cameras, you found your bike near the trail in front of your house and grabbed it. It was now that you put on your shoes, hoping that you hadn't left any obvious trails up until this point. You rode through the forests, breaking off from the main trail near the beginning to a less taken hikers trail that was blocked off halfway down the mountain.

Eventually you'd made your way to the main streets, riding all the way until you hit a gas station. It was there that you freshened up in their bathroom, changing your clothes into a more appealing outfit for the party. You then continued your ride to the address your friend had given you, your smile growing as you heard music as you continued to near the place. But no matter how happy you currently were your father was quite the opposite.

Looking at the cameras, his signature expression changed ever so slightly as he frowned. You'd escaped his watchfulness, honestly he hadn't expected you to get so far. By the time he awoke you were already outside, the crawlspace he guessed, and upon inspection he was right. He was quick to check his cameras, he had them aligned with the main trail to get to the house and at first he was able to locate you, but you'd obviously gone off path because the next second you weren't in frame anymore. He sighed, rolling up the sleeves of his black turtle neck. He stood, going to grab everything he thinks he'll need. Guns, knives, and syringes of multiple poisons littered the walls and counters of his basement. Explosives? He doesn't think it'll get that serious.

Sedative? Perfect.

He packs his coins and garrote wire along and sets off to track you.

"I'm so glad you could make it Y/n!" You friend yells over the loud music and you cheer back. "Me too! It took a while to convince my dad but I made it!" You lied, clinking your drink with them before chugging it back. "Oh shit-" Your friend stumbled and you snorted, almost choking on your drink as you laughed. "Ughhh here, take my drink," you said, handing your cup to your friend, "I gotta piss." "Let me go with youuu," they slurred and you shook your head. "I'll be right back it's right over...there!" You saidd, pointing dramatically towards the open bathroom door. "Plus I need someone to watch my drink." they sighed before waving you off, mumbling a fine as you skipped your way to the bathroom.

"Woops, sorry!" Your friend said after someone bumped into them. The person hadn't responded though and quickly got lost in the crowd of people. Checking that none of your drink spilled on them, your friend sighed at the lack of liquid on their clothing. Lifting the cup to their lips they paused, before laughing at themselves. "That's- That is not my drink~," they giggled at themselves before pushing your cup away from them.

Sooner rather than later you came back to your friend, swooping your drink out of their hand you took a sip as they immediately went back to talking to you. After a while though the lights started to blur together, it felt different from the previous effects of the slightly alcoholic beverages you'd been drinking and you struggled to keep your eyes open.

"Hey I'm gonna go get some air-" You tried to yell over the music but you're not sure how loud you'd actually been speaking. Stumbling out of the party you were met with the fresh cold night air, a stark contrast to the humid environment inside. You walked a little ways away from the intimate couples that littered around the front of the house. You blinked slowly as you caught your breath, you felt a little better but not by much.

A clinking noise caught your attention, in between the houses where the fence clashed with the opposite houses, creating a dark alleyway. Curious, you walked towards it, well, more like stumbled as your feet seemed to work against you. As you neared the location of the sound you were met with something shiny, a quarter. You picked it up, inspecting it a bit. "Nice," you slurred, putting the shiny metal into your pocket before standing back up. You stumbled backwards into a sturdy surface, a wall maybe? That you swear wasn't there before.

Turning, you came face to face with the bright blue eyes of your father. A gasp escaped you as you tried to back away, tripping over your own feet causing you to fall to the hard ground. You groaned as your father crouched down to you. "You never should have disobeyed me." Your vision blurred a bit more as you attempted to defend yourself. "What's wrong? Feeling a bit tired?" His voice warped in your ears as you fought the urge to keep your eyes open. "Let's get you home dear," Your eyes finally shut as your father grabbed ahold of your now limp body.

Waking up in your bed, you groaned as the slight hangover caused a pounding pain in your head. You moved to get up only to feel a slight tug on your limbs, halting your movements.

"Huh? Wh-"

Your eyes scanned your form, noticing that all of your limbs were handcuffed to the posts of your bed. "It's a precaution." Your head snapped to the side, where your father was sitting in a chair near the door. His expression, unhappy. You gulped, the false hope that you'd be able to sneak out of your house without getting caught felt so foolish now as his intense gaze practically swallowed you whole. When you'd be unchained, you weren't sure, maybe days or weeks even. But you do know that it'd be better for you if you just do as instructed from here on out. For your fathers punishments were never for the faint of heart.

———

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Masterlist

[sensei-venus]

What about some fluff with Anthony??🥺 HES so underrated, but he’s such a shy baby. I feel like Anthony would totally go for a chubby gf because he used to be chubby himself. Like HCs/imagine of them playing video games together and just having a cute night in, stolen kisses here and there, back hugs, cuddle KING, and he totally would let you play with his hair/do his hair in so many different styles because it’s so long 💕💕💕

Can y'all believe this is my first Anthony ask?? Awww! Give me more Anthony😤

Honestly want to just throw some stuff out there.

(Unedited)

Anthony wouldn't know what to do with himself at first with a chubby!gf. He wants to hold her, touch her, kiss her. His brain is mush everytime he even thinks about her. She's so cute, pretty and kind. She's always so nice to him.

His parents let him have a game night with her and he's secretly buzzing ones they say yes.

When she comes over he already has his gaming system set up on his tv. They had been talking about a new game he got all week at school. They sit down and he shows her how to play the game. After a while she gets bored. She moves to sit behind him, abandoning her controller. She scoots behind him and he natural falls back into her, laying between her legs. He goes completely lax and lays down. His head rests between her belly and breasts. She's so soft against him.

He almost doesn't feel the way her fingers thread though his curls. Her fingertips scratch over his scalp in a gental motion, his eyes briefly flicker off the tv screen and up at her. He's never had someone play with his hair like this, not his mom or dad, not even Sam dared to touch his hair like she was. It was quiet for a while, the only sound was the background music from the game that was long forgotten that was still playing on a loop.

His hands moved up her thick thighs, he couldn't help but squeeze a little at the flesh. He moved a little bit back, his head resting on her pillow like breasts.

Her lips where soft against his. They moved over his in slow motion, warm and soft. He sucked on her bottom lip for a moment before she was pressing gentle kisses on his cheeks. She moved over his nose and brows. His eye lids fluttered closed and a smile grew on his lips. His hands locked with hers.

She was his.

[ofmermaidstories]

"You always do this, he thinks bleakly. Why do you always do this? Try to laugh at yourself—you’re not even that funny."

Pleaaase I snorted, scoffed and cackled so hard my roommate woke up (I was reading at like 3 am). Who does he think he is‼️‼️‼️‼️he is such a little shit lmfaooo

It is so in line with his character tho😭 He is so understanding most of the time but when irritated he goes straight to where it hurts!!!! Mineta wouldn't have thought that of me😤

Also I love how you subtly added the freak deku in this lol. He is so possessive ( his his his), protective, to the point where he can't think straight when it comes to reader. Like he has to keep the sketchbook, which he views as an unfiltered representation of our mind with him 24/7... So much is happening around him that we kinda look past the fact that he knows our address, the "bridal white", his jealousy spreads to his friends -his friends!- and that his need to both give us everything and have our everything borders on obsession. .. then again was there ever anything he loved that didn't turn into an obsession? It truly is just in his nature.

Lucky for him that's how I like them.

I was suspicious of his arm bc of the constant mention and I was right!! Sadly

Also

"desperate to press into you everything he’s wanted to say: that he wants you. That you’re perfect. That it’s this he wants, something just like this—his lips against your skin, the sharpness of your gasps."

I see the title drop!!!!!

Sorry long ask I just needed to ramble off here for a sec.

Magnificent writing as always. It's the first time I identify so much with a reader lol "vicious, fragile" yeah......

Thank you for the time you took! I know this one was hard on you and your efforts truly shine through this work!!

LMFAO STOP, you know Mineta would say something heinous like, “Baby you’re the funniest person here, and you know what they say about laughing 😏” (no one ever says anything weird about laughing, he’s just opportunistic!!!)

But you’re right though. 😭 All that pinpointed astuteness of Izuku’s means he could be absolutely devastating in his observations, if he cared to be. 😭

My favourite thing about Izuku in fanon though is how quickly his canon personality can be, like, dangerous LOL. The only thing that tempers it is his natural sweetness, his sheer determination to do good!! Like he is absolutely hyperfixating on Scribbles, and maybe if he didn’t have access to like, idk, government power then maybe it’d be more the harmless sort of limerence we can all tend to experience. But he does, so it’s not, LOL. Idk I’m joking but I’ve gone into these fics (and indeed, just canon on the whole) with a certain sort of expectation that not one of the Hero cast (or villain!) would ever do a relationship normally. The stakes would always be high from the get-go; from the moment they realise they care.

You also hit the nail on the head with this, though—was there ever anything he loved that didn’t turn into a obsession? Because how true is it? All Might, Heroics, Kacchan to an extent (probably not as much as we like to make fun of him for, in fandom, but absolutely enough to make him grateful when their relationship starts to get better). I dunno, I resonate with that because I also get obsessive over things I like (heyooo); it’s easy to see it him, too.

RIP Izuku’s arm. 😔🙏🏽 It’ll be fine. Probably. 😌

And LOL, look, I love a good title drop. 🥹 Especially ones that flow nicely; they’re like a lil reward. 😌

But thank-you; please don’t apologise for length or rambling or saying hello!!! I get anxious with big chapters because I’m always like oh no it’s too much, no-one will like it, i’ve missed something stupid in it, etc etc etc so it’s reassuring when people like yourself pop by. 🥺 Thank-you for your kind words. 🥺🌷📖 I hope can do Reader and Izuku and you some justice with the last chapter. 🥹 Fingers crossed 🤞🏽🌾

[synamartia]

Of course mother nature would decide to hit me when things start to heat up physically 😤

OH WELL. LET'S GO.

Warnings: A NSFW gif was used for a reaction near the end, so please be careful reading my live commentary while in public! 😘

♡ But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall.

AYE. NO. BAD TOMMY. *spray bottle* BAD. *swats with newspaper* D<

♡ You couldn't react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn't try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet.

Oh, shit. Bad Tommy, indeed. 😬

♡ "You're gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back." He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.

Welp. This calls for more drastic measures.

OH TOOOOMMMMYYYYYYY~

♡ "I worked really hard for you!" He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn't discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. "I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!" He spit, "No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time."

WELL SHIT. I KNOW YOU WARNED US AHEAD OF TIME BUT GODDAMN. But srsly, one of the things I love in writing is when an author can make your blood boil as much as your nethers quiver, and HAZEL. FUCKING. DELIVERED. still wanna stab Tommy though

♡ "Alastor." It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.

Never mind. He's got this. I'mma enjoy the show, though. 🍿

♡ "Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?" You hadn't heard him worried before, it pained you.

NEVER, BABY. D':

♡ You sighed, and explained, "Tommy, the manager, he's been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on...," his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn't meet yours, "I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn't o it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada yada. He got me as soon as I got to work."

*offers bat*

♡ "Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves."

PREACH.

♡ You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it?

*points up* No.

♡ Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?

YES, PLEASE.

♡ "The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight." He leaned down, kissing your forehead, "I'll see you tomorrow."

T-that's against the rules! Who said you could make my heart flutter like that?!

♡ He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, "No. I'm doing it for everyone."

LIAR. YOU CAN'T DEMAND HONESTY AND THEN LIE SO BLATANTLY.

♡ Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. "You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don't show up," he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you'd never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, "I will fucking kill you."

Oh, don't worry. We'll be there. now get your ass breath out our faces

♡ Disgust, "Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes." She shrugged. "Why does everyone think - is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?" She nodded. "Well, I'm not."

Honey, don't pretend like you wouldn't. You would. You were ready to do it the other night. We all were.

♡ However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this.

Babygirl, don't be afraid. I know it's scary because it's foreign, it's the unknown, but trust me. Going back would be worse. just let Alastor show the love he so clearly feels for you in his own little weird homicidal way!

♡ "What's the occasion? Apology dinner?" The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.

OKAY, THIS. ANYONE IN THIS POSITION OR HAS BEEN THERE, DON'T APOLOGIZE FOR ANYTHING OR TALK TO VICTIMS IN A MANNER THAT SUGGESTS THEY'RE AT FAULT. Also I love that you put this bit in there, the fact that abuse was and still is danced around like it's not a problem. A willingness to discuss dark/taboo topics in any capacity always endears me even more to a story/author. Actually, I'll be covering similar topics like this in later chapters of Haunted, so I'mma just leave it at that for now. Otherwise this is gonna turn into a literal essay. 😂 But seriously, don't.

♡ Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.

Edit: Reread this react and realized it sounds like I was telling YOU not to do it, and I just wanted to clarify I'm not. It wasn't directed at anyone, just said as like a general rule of thumb, if that makes any sense? I'm so sorry if that's how this came off 🥺

Awh, just some pre-murder jitters. Don't worry, darling, Alastor's got you. 😘

♡ A dry laugh, "Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don't like it so people still respect 'em."

Ew. Just ew. I'm gonna enjoy what I HOPE is coming next. Also, you didn't answer the question, you POS.

♡ Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, "Wrong answer." He pushed him down onto his stomach, "Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too." Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, "Hey!! Someone!" But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream.

What's the matter, Tommy boy? Can't take what you dish out?

♡ Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy's throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy's hands fell from Alastor's face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee.

And just double checking - the last bit, did you mean he cut Tommy's face? 'Cause that would be AMAZING and just makes this 10x better, and it's a personal headcanon of mine for Al's human life now, too~

♡ Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. "Now?!"

♡ He laughed, embarrassing you a little, "No it isn't that." His face nuzzled into your neck, "You'd go to hell? For me?"

Baby you have no idea what I would do for you. I'm going to hell, anyway, so why not? no more talkie-talk, we've waited long enough

♡ "I'll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear."

♡ His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh. Had you said something wrong? "Please, you're already pushing me to my limit."

HNNNGGGHH-- the absolute HUNGER that I have for a needy Alastor, holy shit 😩❤

♡ He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.

Honestly, same. It just speaks to me, like you were so lost in the moment you couldn't remove all of your clothing? The need was that great? YES. PLEASE.

♡ With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn't clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them?

AHHHHHH-- LOVE THIS REFERENCE. A++, HAZEL 👌😍

♡ He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him.

slfkjslkw-- Hazellllll~ You got me wanting to explore the softer side of sex with Alastorrrr~ I love your euphemisms toooooo~

♡ Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further. "I'm sorry," Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, "For making you wait so long for so little." His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.

There ain't nothing to apologize for, Al~ Also, don't know if this is the image you were going for, but it's what I saw so--

♡ Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn't sure why, but maybe he'd find the will to admit it to you someday.

The tenderness of this momeeeennnntttt~ My heart is SO full right now! ❤

I WOULD BE AT LEAST TWO CHAPTERS FURTHER IN BUT MY KIDS, MAN. THEY KEEP INTERRUPTING. Love them still, though~ ❤❤❤ Alright, let's see if we can get into part 4 now that they're asleep for the night 😎

A Doe in Fall (Part 3)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦

Part 3 A tragedy 

So enraptured with Alastor, you forgot how you left work on Saturday. Tommy didn’t forget. And he made sure you remembered. Unfortunately for him, and fortunately for you, your paramour made a habit of helping quicken karma’s balancing act.

「warnings/promises: immediate physical assault (let’s be up front about that), allusions to sexual assaults having happened in the past to non-reader characters, HumanAlastor x FemReader, penetrative sex, Protective Alastor, bruises, somewhat graphic descriptions of murder, mentions to coerced prostitution, sex near a corpse (words that have the FBI watching me), stabbing, knife, bad burlesque names, gambling, my own new HC for the Radio Demon’s origins, another deer reference thanks to @n-after-me , chin quivering, Tommy doesn’t know French and it shows, posted early for @jazzmasternot, wrath」

Minors DNI 🤺

You walked into the theatre for rehearsals with a pep in your step, body still humming. It was like the usual adrenaline rush Alastor brought couldn't fade this time.

But it did, when Tommy grabbed you by the hair out of your makeup chair and threw you into the wall. 

You couldn’t react, head ringing after it left a small indent in the drywall. Unlike before, you didn’t try to stand. Make him work for his second hit. And he did. Leaning down he yanked you off the ground by your arm and dragged you to your feet. 

“Do you think you’re funny?” He shook you, you were sure you could feel your brain jostle. It was rhetorical, but you replied anyway.

“No, Tommy.”

“No. Exactly.” He backed you up onto the make up table, head pressed into the mirror. “Mr. Wilson was not happy. He pulled his contribution. I know you don’t have that kind of money. Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

His fingers dug into your cheeks, “No.” You genuinely didn’t. He was talking to you like you had been in the loop on whatever it was he had been doing on the side. All of this was as shocking to you as your actions were, apparently, to him. 

“You’re gonna take whatever meetings I make until that money is back.” He let go of you and turned to leave but changed his mind. Coming back, he swung his fist and clocked you on the left side of your face.

You didn’t see it, but you heard the other girls running and pulling Tommy off of you, yelling and pleading for him to calm down.

“I worked really hard for you!” He shouted, jerking his shoulders out from under the hands of the other performers. What was he talking about? You hadn’t discussed any of this, asked for any thing from him. “I waited for a high roller for you. Real classy guy. Just wanted a private show! That was it!” He spit, “No, every Tom, Dick, and Harry is welcome now to ask for your time.”

You just held your face, unsure if you had the right makeup to hide the bruise before stage call. 

“Well?! Say you’re sorry.”

You considered not saying anything. No response. When you looked at him, you could see the half a dozen other girls staring back at you, just say it. We have to rehearse.

“I’m sorry.” Eyes cast to the floor.

“For what?”

It hurt when you rolled your eyes, “For being ungrateful?” 

He shoulder checked a few girls on the way out. A couple came to you.

“He’s got some gambling debt, he’s just using us to get ahead.”

“I have some stuff to cover that up for tonight.”

“He usually cuts us in.”

Tears stung your eyes, you were angry and humiliated. You could work elsewhere, with a little luck. Take a job at a diner out of the area where no regulars would stir up trouble. Maybe leave until Tommy got his debts paid off or whatever was motivating this recent streak of cruelty. But you didn’t want to run away. No one applauded waitresses. Maybe if you made yourself as unattractive as possible, no one would request you. Dirty your teeth, talk about other men, speak crudely. 

“What exactly was he talking about?” you asked no one in particular. The girls were quiet for a beat.

“Well ya know, private shows for clients who can afford it.” High pitched and nasal, Florence spoke as she searched her make up station.

“That’s it?” Incredulous.

“Sometimes. You know how it is… woman left alone in a room with a man who has too much money or ego or drink. Doesn’t always stop at a dance.” Minnie had much more experience than you, “It isn’t our jobs. It isn’t normal. But, well, ya heard about New York right? They’re trying to make burlesque outright illegal…”

“Gotta enjoy the art while it’s just misunderstood.” Florence wiped down your mirror before setting her supplies down for you. “Come on, let’s get you fixed up.”

By the time patrons began to stream in, you had blood staining the white of your left eye. Nothing you could do, but maybe at a distance it wouldn’t be noticeable. The bruise under your eye from his fist was easy enough to cover. The contusion from where your right cheek hit the wall was a little harder. 

Luckily, the stage offered a buffer of space and the rest of the room was dark. 

During your show, you tried to keep your eyes moving so the red sclera never stayed in one place too long. For the first time, the cheers did nothing for you. You felt your chin quiver, fighting back tears. You wanted to scream, to tell them to hate you and leave. Stop fucking clapping.

Ruth was naturally the first to come to you after your performance, “Want me to do the tour with you? Arm in arm around the hall.”

You took her up on the offer. It lightened the load, her taking charge of the conversation when people approached or bought you drinks. Luckily the bartender always poured the performers weak cocktails and watered down liquor to keep their heads on straight. 

Ruth’s companionship afforded you precious time to plan, to consider how quickly you could find new work or at least a way out of this.

“What a treat. Two for one. Can I buy you both a drink?” 

Ruth turned first to greet the customer, “Ooh yes sir! Gin and tonic, please and thank you. Autumn?” Your stage name drew your attention back to the world, turning finally.

“Alastor.” It fell from your mouth like a lead balloon.

He smiled down at you, his hand offering a little wave, “Hello. Surprise.” 

Your face fell, a frown pulling down your chin. It took you too long to recover, batting your eyelashes and turning the corners of your lips up unnaturally. 

“So you do have a beau!” Ruth slapped your arm, “I’m Skye, Skye Scraper. Pleasure to meet you, Alastor.” She extended her hand, Alastor planting a kiss on the back of it, concealing his smile at the name.

You tried to keep your eyes on the floor, head turned slightly away from him to obscure the neon sign of an eye shouting, ‘Weak!’

Unfortunately for you, Alastor wasn’t an oblivious man. Unless he was dancing or drunk. “May I have a moment alone with her?” Alastor asked Ruth. Ruth looked to you for your okay, and you just nodded. She gave a little nod of her own to Alastor and slinked away. 

“Are you unhappy to see me, dear? Did I overstep by coming by unannounced?” You hadn’t heard him worried before, it pained you. 

“No, no! I am… so happy to see you. I just had a long day.” You scanned the room for the darkest area to bring him. A booth would be best, you could keep him on one side of you. You gestured with a nod of your head.

“Ah, I kept you out too late.” Alastor didn’t move.

“Not at all, come on let’s sit down.” You reached back for his hand without looking at him, but when you pulled he still didn’t move. He remembered the way you pulled at the hand of that man in the alley the first night you met. Desperate to escape somewhere. 

“Is there a reason you won’t look at me?”

Lie. 

“Uh, no, I’m just embarrassed about this heavy stage makeup.” 

Alastor paused, hand slipping from yours to adjust his sleeves. It was a nervous action, an attempt to self soothe, but you didn’t know that. “I should have asked before coming.”

“Alastor, it’s not…,” you kept your eyes down at your hands.

“Then look at me.”

Would he think you were incapable of protecting yourself? His pity would kill you. Perhaps he would decide a second rate burlesquer wasn’t worth making time for anymore.

You could intentionally wound him, say you don’t want to see him so he leaves. But that sword was double edged and you weren’t sure you’d survive that either. You weren’t making it out of this.

You finally looked at him. He leaned in, “What happened to your eye?” A slender finger gently tilting your chin upward.

Lie. 

You thought too long for an answer. Why were you getting worse at lying? It used to be one of your best shields and swords but now you were so slow on the draw you were left defenseless. Vulnerable. His hand took yours, gently pulling you into the lobby and through the glass doors of the theatre.

Under the bright lights of the marquee and the street lamps, Alastor inspected your face. He reached into his pocket for his handkerchief, wetting it in his mouth before wiping the makeup off of your under eye.

“Alastor, people are staring.” 

His eyes fell down, soft hands lifting your arm where a bruise was already formed. You hadn’t noticed that one.

“What happened?” He wasn't looking at you when he said it, instead cautiously wiping the makeup off your cheeks in search of more marks.

“The truth or wh-“

“Always. Never give me anything else.”

You sighed, and explained, “Tommy, the manager, he’s been shifting tactics for bringing in money because he owes some big bads a lot of debt. Private shows with performers that sometimes get hands on…,” his hands stopped moving but his eyes didn’t meet yours, “I never asked to be included in it. I wouldn’t do it. I was rude to a man Tommy introduced me to and I ran off Saturday. Yada Yada. He got me as soon as I got to work.”

Alastor didn’t reply, just turned on his heels and marched back into the theater. You chased after him, “I don’t need you to fight my battles!” You tried to get in front of him but he walked right past you.

“Not about what you need, dear, it's about what he deserves.” 

Alastor asked the bartender for Tommy, who pointed to the short but stocky man talking to a group of guests. Alastor approached so quickly Tommy didn’t have time to greet him, instead just backing up until he fell ass first into a booth. Alastor boxed him in, one hand on the wall and one on the table, towering over Tommy as he sat.

“I hear you sell dancers by the night.”

You paced the lobby nervously. Would you be fired? What would Alastor say? Would Tommy hit him, too?

He re-emerged, “Come to my car, please.” He didn't stop walking as he said it. 

You followed a few blocks down to his car, parked on the street. He opened the passenger door for you and closed it behind you. You wanted to ask if you were going somewhere, but thought better of it. A tight u-turn, he pulled the car into the side street where you’d first met each other.

Wordlessly he got out of the car, you opening your door before he could. Popping the trunk, he set the folded canvas inside a paper bag. Checking first, he placed it inside one of the tin trash cans. 

You stood, waiting for an explanation.

Finally he stopped and made eye contact with you. “You have a date tomorrow, with me. Bring this to the apartment above the theater before Tommy and I arrive.” Opening your mouth to speak, he didn’t stop to let you add anything. “Preferably near the bed.” He closed the trunk, “Wear red, please.”

You searched his face for some kind of discernible emotion but found none. Those constricted pupils again, an animal staring back at you from behind a pair of glasses. There was no reason to ask him, it was obvious what was going to happen. Did you want to stop it? 

Did you want to see it? Alastor at work?

“Okay. On all the points.” You looked back at the trashcan, “Canvas hidden near the bed. Wear red.”

“The extra clothes can go anywhere out of sight.” He leaned down, kissing your forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your voice cracked a little, “Wait, you’re leaving already?”

He nodded, “I can’t stay here.” Before getting into his car he turned and added, “Don’t cover the bruises tomorrow. He should see them.”

You nodded in return, “Are you doing this for me?” So quiet you almost hoped he didn’t hear it.

He paused, one leg already in the car and his back to you, “No. I’m doing it for everyone.”

You watched his car light up and leave the alley.

It’s not that you felt abandoned, you felt…. Stranded. You had to go back in there, alone, and put on the normal act but under abnormal conditions. 

So it was happening. You hadn’t seen the first time. Just felt it. You didn’t see the second. You were going to actually see a man die. Not just a man, someone you knew. Someone you used to consider a friend of sorts. Before he got into whatever trouble was driving him to act like a flesh peddler. Could you do it? Could you watch a man be killed? Was that even what Alastor had planned?

Tommy found you the second you were back in the room, hand pressing too hard on the bruises he left on your arm. “You have a meeting tomorrow after your show. If you don’t show up,” he yanked you close, putrid breath of dead teeth you’d never been bothered by before this moment and bad booze assaulting your senses, “I will fucking kill you.”

You almost started laughing, bringing your hand to your mouth to hide your smile. “Okay Tommy.” 

Fuck it. He was going to die anyway, might as well make it a date. 

Ruth saddled up beside you as soon as Tommy was out of earshot, “Look at that smile. Quickie in the alley?”

Disgust, “Jesus, Skye, I was gone like, 5 minutes.” She shrugged. “Why does everyone think — is everyone fucking their daddies* in the side street?” She nodded. “Well, I’m not.”

“Prude.” She joshed before linking your arm in hers again, “We’ve got at least another hour of schmoozing. Tits up!”

Your smile came effortlessly that night, a thrum of excitement keeping you light on your feet. Not excitement for death, but for the very concept of being closer to Alastor. Would you see it happen, in front of you? Or would he have you leave? Either way, you were an active participant with a task list.

He trusted you, even if in a small way. Trust was so rarely given from the people who mattered. Men trusted you often; to be sweet when they tell you they were embarrassed about something, to lie when they ask if you orgasmed, to not steal their cash when they blacked out with their pants still on. Pulling it from strangers was one of your greatest pleasures. But it was easy. You were skilled. 

Yet again, like so often now, Alastor was the exception. He didn’t toss himself at your feet. He stood tall in front of you and on his own terms offered you the things you wanted. You didn’t have to pretend to be demure, you didn’t have sit on his lap in silence and nod and laugh. Just yourself, as much as you could allow yourself to exist in the world. No tricks. If his trust was presented wrapped in a bloodied bow, well, you would thank him dearly and wear the ribbon round your neck like a trophy.

Many men spoke to you, but luckily your participation in conversation wasn’t something they really cared about. As they spoke, your eyes were looking past them and into the future. 

However there was a sense of dread when you lied in bed that night. The excitement of getting closer to Alastor had melted into the fear there was no going back from this. 

Something in your chest stung, a thorn growing from somewhere unknown. Three encounters (that he knew of) and already it seemed your thoughts were more Alastor than yourself. No person had ever made such an impression before. You didn’t like it, but it made you happy. Which is why you didn’t like it. Tying your happiness to another person was a reckless thing to do. You’d seen your mother and half sister both use a man’s attention as a replacement for being happy with themselves and it made them brittle and hollow.

Thinking of what would happen the following night, oddly, you were reminded of losing your virginity. You were a “late bloomer” and were terrified you’d never be you again after. Like something would be taken from you. You fell asleep to that thought, of what you’d lose.

Then you woke, uncharacteristically early, feeling none the bit rested. No dreams. No nightmares. A few seconds of darkness and suddenly it was morning. With the extra time you had you wandered into a department store before going to the theater.

When a sales woman approached you, asking what you were looking for, you were too tired lie.

“A red dress.” You didn’t have the makeup at home to cover your marks, and gave up being worried about it. 

Unfortunately, it seemed it wasn’t so odd of a sight; a woman with a black eye.

“What’s the occasion? Apology dinner?” The woman fidgeted with the hangers while looking at you.

You grimaced, “No, a murder.”

She howled, “You are a hoot! Don’t we wish, huh? Let me pull you some options.”

You put the dress on the top of the paper bag, having hidden it under your make up table the previous night. Your fingers were trembling, applying your makeup needing deep breaths and concentration.

“Ruth, can you do my lips?” You turned and handed her the brush. 

“The eye looks better.” She took your chin in her hand and painted your mouth a pretty shade of red.

“Thank you.” You offered her a smile but she didn't let go, “What?”

“You ever seen a cornered raccoon? Like one got in the house and your mom boxed it into a corner with a broom?”

A nod, yes, actually, you had.

“Who’s got the broom?” She asked. You knitted your brow, not understanding. “Who’s got you in a corner? Is it Tommy?”

You took your chin back, deep breaths. “No brooms. No corners. Just rattled still from last night.” Not a lie, surprisingly. “You thought of a raccoon? Really? Is it because of the eye?”

When you took your bow for the evening and turned to escape the stage lights for the darkness of backstage, you found Tommy leaning just outside the dressing room.

“Get changed, doors unlocked upstairs. Room 504.” 

Grabbing the paper bag you ran through your mental checklist. Wear red, take off your make up, hide the canvas by the bed. An odd to-do list for murder.

The theater had two floors of modest apartments above it, the owners keeping two of the open for the theater’s use. One was for the owners should they ever visit New Orleans, and the other was multi use. Storage and a crash pad for performers or Tommy when he worked late.

The bag crinkled as you hugged it, looking over the small apartment. Boxes, decorations, a modest kitchen and a bed. The bathroom was quite large, a tub and shower head. Was this where the other performers went?  

Why hadn’t anyone said anything sooner? Why didn’t anyone leave yet?

Taking a second, you got to work. You opened the canvas and slid it under the bed, the smallest bit of edge sticking out for easy retrieval. Dizzy with the quickly settling reality of what you were doing, you sat on the floor for a moment. Trying to calm your breathing, you closed your eyes.

The fear of the unknown was suffocating you. There was a possibility Alastor failed and ended up hurt. Or, that he changed his mind and Tommy left you two to just hold hands on the bed for a sex-appropriate amount of time.

You patted your thighs and stood up. No time now for a panic attack. Alastor had a change of clothes in the bag, neatly folded and tied in twine. They were set onto the shelf above the closet.

And finally, yourself. Your dress was on and you stopped to wipe the make up off your face in the bathroom mirror. Still bruised, still nasty. The dress was nice though, carrying some of the weight for your battered mug. Red cotton, sailor neck and little gold buttons down the front. Flashy, brighter than the dark number you usually wore.

Would he like it? Most men looked for how a dress accentuated your curves (or hid them) but you had a feeling Alastor didn’t care so much about that.

You took your seat at the edge of the bed, thin mattress sagging from your weight.

The clock ticked, until finally the door opened and you saw something you hadn’t seen before and knew you’d never see again. Tommy and Alastor.

“Here she is. Autumn, this is Mr. Cerf. He's asked I stay in the apartment, apparently word of your attitude already spread among the upperclass.” Tommy wagged his finger at you in a playful way that was entirely out of place.

“Look at her. Pouting. Not very excited, is she?” Alastor smiled at you, softly. You felt for a second that maybe you entirely misunderstood. He looked calm, normal. Even peaceful.

“It’s always nice when they fight a little. But she won’t cause you any trouble.” Tommy patted Alastor’s back, who immediately shirked away.

“Do you like it when women try to fight you off, Tommy?”

A dry laugh, “Ya know how it is. They gotta act like they don’t like it so people still respect ‘em.”

A hum. Alastor’s smile falling entirely. A shadow settled over his face. “I see. That does make things easier.” He slipped on his short black gloves. “I always tell her she looks lovely in red. She rarely listens to me, but I’m happy to see she did tonight. It’s a special occasion.” 

Once, you thought. You didn’t listen once. 

Tommy nervously chuckled, looking from Alastor then to you, “What?” Alastor grabbed him by the back of the neck, pushing him to the ground and onto his knees. Hand fisted in his hair, knife pressing across his throat. 

Alastor dug his knee into the small of Tommy’s back, “Tommy, I think you owe the lady an apology.” You let your feet find the edge of the canvas and slid it out with a kick. It glided across the wood and stopped where his knees met the floor. 

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I’m sorry.” Tommy was staring at the waxed fabric in front of him. 

You felt your eyes sting with tears, a smile breaking out against your will. “For what?”

“I—,” his eyes searched the room for an answer, your words bringing a pulse of Deja Vu, “It’s about yesterday?” He seemed to relax a little, “Come on. I said sorry. ” Looking back to Alastor. “I didn’t know she had a guy.”

Alastor yanked his head back to look him squarely in his eyes, “Wrong answer.” He pushed him down onto his stomach, “Come on Tommy. I like when my victims fight a little, too.” Sensing the taller man towering over him with the knife, Tommy scrambled onto his back to look at Alastor. Tommy started shouting, “Hey!! Someone!” But there was no one to hear him. That was the beauty of the space he always brought his dates to; it was too loud to hear anyone scream. 

Funny how that works both ways.

Alastor shrugged, “Well that didn’t last long.” As Tommy backed up, trying to get traction on the slippery canvas and failing, Alastor straddled him. Tommy’s hands came up, one pushing against Alastor’s face, the other against the arm holding the knife. Alastor put both hands onto the knife’s handle, staring down into Tommy’s eyes as he inched closer to the man’s neck. “You look scared, Tommy. Are you scared?” 

The other man shouted, eyes trembling as he watched the knife come down.

Alastor pushed through, metal sinking into Tommy’s throat. No pause, he withdrew and sank it again and again. Tommy’s hands fell from Alastor’s face, flailing slightly at his neck before slumping down. He was frenzied, stabbing at his chest and upward with wide eyes. You recognized those constricted pupils. They made sense in this setting. Alastor was panting, taking a second to split the skin from ear to ear in the middle of his melee. 

You brought your knees to your chest, watching the crime unfold. Was this anger for you or truly for everyone? No one ever got so angry for you before, if you could be so conceited as to say this was for you. Your mouth opened and you spoke without thinking, no filter. “You look like an angry God. A jazz demon of wrath.” You smiled, the morbidity not lost on you.

Alastor stopped, frozen as he stared at you. For a second, he had forgotten you were there. He was always alone during these hobbies of his. Until recently. You looked like an angel in red and gold. Had he dyed your heavenly robes crimson? Or had you been made that way?

He dropped the knife, peeling his gloves off and stepping over Tommy’s decimated torso before kicking off his shoes.

You scooted back onto the bed and opened your arms, welcoming a strange after-kill cuddle. Your reward.

Alastor took off his bowtie, then his shirt. It took you a second, not realizing what was happening until he began to unbuckle his belt. “Now?!” 

He nodded, “Yeah.”

“What the fuc— okay,” your hands flew to unclasp your stockings and roll down your panties. You mumbled to yourself, “Jesus Christ.”

As he crawled over you, warm gloveless hands tracing along your legs, hips, waist, you looked at up him with your now dilated pupils, “It’s murder? You need murder?”

He laughed, embarrassing you a little, “No it isn’t that.” His face nuzzled into your neck, “You’d go to hell? For me?” 

You froze, you hadn’t really seen it like that.

“You’d damn your eternal soul,” his hips pressed into you, an unfamiliar hardness there that made you gulp, “just to spend time with me?”

How were you so heated over an erection? A dime a dozen, men practically threw them at women who offered them the slightest smile. Yet feeling him so hard against you, something you had been practically praying for, made you weak. A trembling virgin all over again. 

Don’t lie, he always told you to be honest so you decided to try it out even if it made you feel at risk of harm. Your hands slid up and into his hair, gripping gently, enough to elicit a groan from him, “Well I was worried heaven wouldn’t have jazz, so… yeah.” You had to always say something a little in jest, to hide from the vulnerability of honesty, “This seemed like a better option.” The truth was, if you had to state it plainly, you would dive head first into hell in exchange for his smile. To hear his laugh. To feel his breath over your mouth. You were quite sure hell was more your scene, anyway.

“I’ll be sure to fill your afterlife with jazz every day, dear.” 

How could he make hell sound so sweet?

“It’s a deal.” Fingers playing with his hair, basking in the warmth of skin on skin. 

He leaned up, eyes scanning your face as he always seemed to do in these intimate moments. The feeling spreading down his chest was one wholly foreign to him, one he was struggling to put into his own words. You hadn’t run away. You opened your arms for him even still, welcoming your own damnation in exchange for… affection? Attention? Him? The reason didn’t matter, not to Alastor, and not now to his growing need. You didn’t even push him for more than he wanted to give, not yet needled him for details, secrets, sex. Could you really just be there for Alastor? Take him for what he was and what he wasn’t?

His mouth was salivating at the thought you’d give him anything. Reality was, you already had. His finger caressed the purple welt on your cheek. You were given pain and he returned it ten fold to its owner. A demon of wrath. He felt his cock twitching, underwear tented around him. 

You smiled up at him, wiping a little streak of blood from his jawline, “You look quite pretty in red yourself.”

His head came to rest on your collarbone with a shaky sigh.

Had you said something wrong? 

“Please, you’re already pushing me to my limit.”

Making a show of it, you zipped your mouth and pretended to toss the key. You wanted to reach down and pull off his remaining bit of clothing, to rub yourself against his manhood. But, you weren’t sure if that was something he would appreciate. You didn’t want to ruin his experience, to make him regret offering you something he so clearly didn’t need to give.

He removed his underwear, watching you unbutton your dress and pulling your arms free. Your bra, garter, and stockings were still on. Somehow he found it more scandalous than if you were completely naked.

Your breath was shaking, uneven as the excitement took control of you. There was a not totally unfounded fear you'd black out from hyperventilating.

Alastor lined himself up with your heat and pressed in, making a hard to decipher face as his brow knit up and he bit his lip. You were already so wet, not a hand or mouth needed from him. He wondered if you shared more than an acceptance of justified homicide; your body so relaxed and welcoming to him. 

With a few shallow thrusts, he was fully sunk into you. You may have let out a cry. An emptiness you hadn’t clocked was suddenly gone. Was this what Zeus meant when he said the two souled humans were too powerful and tore them apart to weaken them? 

Was this sex, or love? The word made you nervous. But—- if he offered it to you in both palms, you’d suffocate yourself in his hands.

He began to move in earnest, thrusting in and out slowly. You had expected the frantic moves of a horny virgin. Instead he was moving with control, hips rolling into you like waves gentle and steady where the lake met land, not slamming like many men before him. 

Had it been any other dick, you’d whine and begin moving yourself against it for that needed speed. This was Alastor. Dripping pleasure into your open mouth like a drought-breaking summer shower.

You didn’t recognize your own sounds, already panting and moaning as a warmth spread from the place where his cock was sliding around inside you.

Alastor tried to keep calm. Even when his body was sensitive, he wasn’t used to the mental work needed to fight off his orgasm. Usually he had the opposite issue, struggling to stay focused enough to finish. Mind wandering to more productive chores. 

But you were so wet, so accepting in body and mind. He watched your eyes close, one hand gently clawing at the blankets, the other reaching down to touch his lower stomach every time he thrust back in. For the first time in a very long time you really truly wanted to remember who was at the other end of the dick you were enjoying.

Languid moves. Swollen cockhead hitting the bottom of your walls, the top, the end, pushing still a little further.

“I’m sorry,” Alastor leaned down over you, kissing at your jawline, “For making you wait so long for so little.”

His rhythm picked up then, burying himself deeper into your sopping cunt and dragging out enough to pull back that quiver of his release.

You shook your head, lips tingling. “Nothing little here.”

He attempted a laugh, losing his breath. He wanted to last longer, to make the experience worth your while but he could feel you dripping down his balls and it weakened him with alarming efficiency. Finally the frenzied speed you witnessed earlier was turned to you, you brought your legs up, holding at his sides. “Darling I need to-,” he moaned into your ear.

“Please stay.” You clung to his neck, nails grazing at his shoulders.

Alastor’s voice was soft and sweet, a small moan and a gentle grunt. His legs spread more, trying to get every centimeter of himself into you. Hips now grinding in a small circle, but not losing any of the comfort of your warmth. You felt him still pumping that welcomed heat into you, and you tightened around him, drawing out your own moan. He hissed, “Sensitive.” Your legs were shaking like leaves in a storm, no orgasm but the pleasure nonetheless intoxicating.

The front of your brain felt like static, perhaps from the lack of oxygen as you had uncharacteristically lost your breath under Alastor. 

Like losing your virginity, after the fear faded and you were able to find a moment for introspection, you found yourself larger than before. The edges of your canvas expanded out, new parts of yourself unfurling for you to explore. Nothing had been lost, only gained.

Alastor kissed at the dark circle under your eye, at the bruise of your cheek, he lifted your arm and kissed gently at the purple and blue spots there too. He had lied, and he wasn’t sure why, but maybe he’d find the will to admit it to you someday.

He had left yesterday to keep from strangling Tommy in the center of the theater, finding himself in a rage. He rarely felt anger. His killings always about retribution, about karma, about righting the scales. He needed to leave to keep from losing his composure.

He lied to you in the alley, unable to look you in the eye when he did it for fear you’d see it. You always seemed to see him with a clarity others didn’t despite such a short time together. He struggled to hide from you and it was as exciting as it was frightening. A testament to your similarities.

He hadn’t done it for everyone. No. His personal moral code fell to pieces when he saw your bloodied eye and bruised skin. He would have killed Tommy even if he had been a good man, even if you’d been the instigator. None of his murderous rules mattered. And it scared him. 

(Next Part Next Week, orz)

*slang for boyfriend, often a rich one

༻Masterlist༺

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list):

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @fizzled-phoenix , @fjorjestertealeaf , @phobophobular , @surusurusuru , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @roxxie-wolf , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot , @pseudobun , @fraugwinska✨, @alitaar , @straows , @alastorssimp , @angelicwillows , @b-o-n-e-daddy , @one-and-only-tay /

🏹Alastor stalkers: @celestial-vomit , @amurtan ,@valkyrie-expeditions

[eemamminy-art]

🕯️🎲🍄☁️ for the writer's ask meme!

🕯️ ⇢ on a scale from 1 to 10, how much do you enjoy editing? why is that?

Huhhhhh it think it depends on the kind of editing I'm doing? A lot of my "editing" is just like a second or third draft! Other times it's me banging my head against the keyboard trying to make the words sound prettier or more meaningful (editing my one shots lol), or it's just me reading over my final draft again after not looking at it for a few days/weeks and changing a couple of words to sound more natural. I guess overall it can range from 5 to 8 out of 10 haha. Sometimes it's really nice and rewarding and other times I'm miserable and feeling super self conscious the entire time.

🎲 ⇢ what stops you from writing more in your free time?

Not enough hours in the day 😤 Also sometimes writing makes me sleepy, or I just can't focus. My writing tends to come in bursts of inspiration and then I go back to edit it and fluff it up more another day when I'm feeling more focused and had time to think it over more.

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Here's a fordolyse one: Lyse always goes to Fordola to ramble about her day and all the things going on with regards to the alliance, Ala Mhigo's rebuild, or just anything. She started doing it initially to keep Fordola company when she was still in confinement and just talked about whatever to fill the silence, but now it's become something they both really look forward to. And now that Fordola has made strives in her rehabilitation, the rambling is usually done over dinner or while sitting on the rooftop watching the stars. :3

☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

I'm sure I've told this story before but I was dating someone at the time (this was in 2012) who was really judgmental and toxic and she hated tumblr lol but I wanted to make a new one (I had had several blogs before that I deleted) so I wanted to pick a username that was completely removed from any other handle I'd ever used before so that I could hide the account from her. I was really obsessed with this one ytp from deus ex at the time.. 😂 extremely deep cut I know. So yeah eemamminy was just a little gibberish phrase in the video. I wish I had a different handle but I kind of feel like it's a little late now so I'm like okay I guess that's me now forever haha

Writers truth and dare ask game

[waitingformyfavoritesongs]

1:32 am pdt 28 Jan u ary 2023 Saturday 🪐

The neighbor is playing music 🎼 loud again it’s got a booming loud bass speaker 🔊 it’s providing very dramatic 🎭 background sound as if I were in a thriller movie 🎥 like Jurassic park. 1:36 am pdt I had very strong painful cramps when I woke up after midnight 🕛. More diarrhea. Mom gave me medicine from the hospital 🏥 but it feels a little painful to drink. I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ if it’s the medicine or the incubus. 1:38 am pdt I drank it b4 midnight 🕛 b4 falling asleep 😴 I think 🤔 getting difficult 😞 2 remember. Need to write ✍️ it down next time. But I probably won’t take it again. 1:39 am pdt

tired. And hot flash. Exhaling hot 🥵 air. Nothing feels hot 🥵 on the surface. It might be inside closer to the lungs 🫁. 😞😖😭😫 ow my left ear 👂. Incubus wants me paranoid about the music. It’s more distant sounding this time than all the previous times. 1:42 am pdt maybe 🤔 the guy has a car 🚗 now and took it to his car 🚗???? 1:43 am pdt idk 🤷🏻‍♀️.

1:45 am pdt when I went to toilet 🚽 several minutes ago I saw 👀 something that looked like a vitamin I took b4 falling asleep 😴. 1:47 am pdt

1:47 am pdt I I saw 👀 in auto correct devil seven . Did not notice what was in the first square. Feels like he’s calling me those. 1:50 am pdt

29 Jan u ary 2023 Sunday ☀️ 12:12 pm pdt

HOT 🥵. My family doesn’t want me around. I have been too much trouble 4 them I guess all these years. From being too afraid 2 get a job when I was 16 years old and chatting online... and when I was 9 years old? I wasn’t understanding of my mom using my birthday 🎂 money from my grandparents to buy a microwave which I complained 2 my dad and it seemed 2 open a can of worms 🪱 I guess with my dad. I think 🤔 he might have used it as a reason 2 take my mom 2 court. I don’t know how that makes any sense to him 2 do that in retrospect. Maybe 🤔 my mom made more money 💰 than she let on and did not need 2 spend my birthday money 💰 (butt cheeks flesh PAIN 😖😭😖😭😤🥵😤🥵) I felt guilty about that for years. When my sister was in middle school 🏫 and I was in high school 🏫 my mom told her 2 ask me 4 money 💰 2 buy yearbooks. I think I took it from my own money 💰 I saved from dad. Usually dad gave equally to both of us? I think? So she could have easily bought it herself if she saved it. She went out with friends a lot and I usually stayed home 🏠. 12:21 pm pdt so she probably spent it then. From 2011- almost end of 2012 I didn’t go out often 4 fun. I had little time outside. 12:27 pm pdt my aunt is acting crazy to me for barricading the door 🚪 to make it more difficult for incubus to come in. She’s telling me I’m powerful and stubborn and telling me to pay the rent. I couldn’t breathe 🧘🏻‍♀️ since 2019 but everyone ignored me. I was crawling on the floor when I had difficulty breathing in 2019/2020. She’s behaving like this after I confided in her about Scott. Same thing happened when I confided in my cousin. They both turned against me. 12:31 pm pdt

12:34 pm pdt my friend double checked her messages to Jane page Herman. It looks like Jane didn’t feel comfortable answering any questions and blocked her. It looks like incubus tormented Jane, too. 12:35 pm pdt

12:41 pm pdt incubus tore down my bones 🦴 a lot. My body looks very unattractive and absurd. I once thought 💭 I was falling in love with a former classmate who found me on MySpace. We hung out with out becoming physically intimate. He allowed me to take photos of him for a class project on Halloween 🎃. We went out a few times to eat. There was a moment I was ridiculously? Happy. I question now if it was natural. But he is a really nice guy. He feels like a safe person. And sometimes I wonder 💭 if I had committed to him if I would be happy now. When I decided to stop 🛑 seeing him I felt love 💕 sick in bed 🛌. 12:48 pm pdt oh I felt pain and difficulty breathing my thoughts 💭 lost the train 🚂. I asked once both mom and sister if I should marry him when he was in his way to pick me up 🆙 to go out to eat. I don’t remember him saying if it was a date and I didn’t say it was a date, but after I asked that, he arrived wearing a tie. 12:51 pm pdt shamefully, I didn’t think I could commit bcz I wasn’t attracted to him the way he was, but it didn’t stop 🛑 me from hanging out with him. I like having platonic? Friendships with guys - nice, fun guys; and if I wasn’t very attracted to them it made it easier to hang out with them for clean fun bcz of my curses. I once played drums 🪘 with drummers and I got a good beat going and we played together. When I was 11 years old and got kicked out of a bedroom for the way I played with Barbie dolls (I took something I should not have) I was kindly told to play video games with the stepbrother, and I think that was probably more fun than the Barbie dolls, and I don’t know 🤷🏻‍♀️ if he was pretending to have fun with me, but he begged me to play video games more. 12:58 pm pdt my ex and I watched anime together in his bedroom a lot, bcz it was what he wanted to do 😅 and then 2015 I was hooked on inuyasha, and after the breakup I marathon watched sailor moon 🌙 he gave me while I waited out my bleeding 🩸 nose 👃 that easily broke open every day that summer. 1 pm I have a lot of cramps diarrhea pain ever since she unbarricaded that door and I haven’t rebarricaded it. 1:01 pm pdt the incubus makes me hotter 🥵 than I ever been in my life. I don’t think it’s necessary to make me this hot 🥵 I feel like I’m going to die from the heat. I’ve been living in hot apartments all my life. Rarely I use air conditioning yet my mom gave my sister money 💰 to buy an air conditioner but she won’t buy one for us. 1:03 pm pdt

1:04 pm pdt 1:07 pm pdt heart pain incubus has intentions to kill me. I noticed yesterday my right eye looks a little dark as if it’s been bruised. What it is though is he’s been scratching the inside, the white part. 1:10 pm pdt I think he’s giving me the run around and the ring of fire. It burns burns burns the ring of fire the ring of fire 🎶🎼🎵🎤 1:11 pm pdt

Bcz I was shy and probably bcz of chronic eczema and a lot of head trauma, it was difficult for me 2 interact with a lot of people. Usually i got a little more comfortable with specific types of people but I won’t say what types here. From ≈2010 I relied more and more on my mom. She didn’t like me relying on her. When we visited my sister in New York after she had the baby, my mom told me to go out by myself to find more food. And when we were out together sometimes she was stingy even though it was my money. At the airport I wanted more than 1 slice of pizza, but she wouldn’t ask 4 me for more than 1 slice. And then I let her have the chair at the table and then people ran to me to give me chairs. I typed this in (chest getting hot exhaling HOT air 1:19 pm pdt). I don’t know why everyone was being mean to me including incubus. 1:20 pm pdt my eczema (and probably my head trauma ) made living in my body feel like a torture chamber I could never escape. 1:21 pm pdt 1:22 pm pdt. I remember once we shared a large? Pizza with my cousin when she was 9 years old. She wanted 2 eat half of it by herself. I told her she had to share and that I wanted a slice of the other toppings and she could have a slice of the other topping combination. She didn’t want it bcz it was vegetarian? And claimed she got diarrhea from eating vegetables. I think bcz of this I suggested that her dad take her to dinner b4 bringing her to our place. After that happened she bragged she ate a whole big pizza by herself. It probably wasn’t long after this? That she punched me very strongly in the head and my performance capabilities started 2 decline at work. 1:27 pm pdt

1:30 pm pdt when I was about 4 years old I borrowed a girl’s (neighbor) Barbie doll clothing without asking. But always had the intentions of returning all the clothing and I did. She noticed probably but didn’t like it probably bcz I didn’t ask and stopped playing with me. 1:32 pm pdt

1:37 pm pdt I started watching sailor moon when I was in middle school grade 7. I try to learn how to use the vcr to record it so I don’t miss it. 1:38 pm pdt heart pains 1:39 pm pdt

1:40 pm pdt on the phone after we were home from our trip to New York I told my sis I lost a l lot of weight during our visitation there. She tells me maybe I wasn’t a walking enough b4, and when she’s telling this to me she sounds like she hates me. I probably wasn’t friendly enough to her during the trip but it was bcz probably mostly that I had a lot of shame and guilt about past stufff and was trying to distance myself from her to keep myself out of trouble, so I don’t accidentally do something or so people cannot blame me for future bad stuff. But b4 she got married? (Brain/skull pain 1:44) they visited us at my apartment and she’s extremely distant to me and avoids talking to me and being alone with me and I don’t know why. 1:46 pm pdt(she came for a friend’s dads funeral 1:51 pm pdt) incubus makes every one distant and mean to me? 1:46 pm pdt she had her kids after she got married. It’s ironic she told me I don’t walk enough, when I wore myself extremely thin that trip and did 3 seasons of running sports. Diarrhea cramps. 1:48 pm pdt

1:52 pm pdt I guess I’m too selfish and I suck. No one likes me. Incubus hates me. I feel it on the inside that I’m wicked and selfish. I feel I emit bad vibes like Elsa in frozen. mom’s best friend for Christmas 2002? I think she gave an Elsa photo frame with pink roses painted on. Rise rising risen rose 🌹🥀🏵 I’m probably going to lose my hips and pelvis bone now. Incubus is giving me a lot of diarrhea cramps painful for the past 2 hours that’s been going fast. 1:57 pm pdt

2:01 pm pdt one evening I stayed at work extra hours in the evening to get work done, and everyone else was going out for dinner. She decided to come into the office and meets my boss. She acts as if she’s disappointed that I’m not going out to dinner with them even though she seems 2 disrespect me and avoided me beforehand. 2:03 pm pdt there are times we talked on the phone and she would say she will talk to me more next time. Next time she’s on the phone she doesn’t seem to ask to talk to me. I don’t know if it’s my blunder. (Sometimes we have a nice time talking. I don’t remember if I was trying too hard like I usually do 2:08 pm pdt) 2:05 pm pdt there’s something I was. Going to type but cannot remember again. This happens all the time. 2:06 pm pdt I don’t think they are going to let me remember it this time. 2:06 pm pdt oh I remember now. 2:09 pm pdt about adnan. I think I didn’t learn until after my wrist was broken that my sister actually had a crush on him. I met adnan first I think bcz he was in my class. They combined 2nd and third grades into one class. He was 2nd grade and I was third. I remember he was in my group after I came back to school from having the chicken pox. 2:11 pm pdt they let me name our group when I returned. 2:12 pmpdt incubus is trying to trick me again. Too much is going on with my body to believe anything he promises is anything good for me. Bcz he keeps saying marriage, wedding, rings, but all I get is flamed until I feel like I’m dying. No thanks incubus, no false promises necessary 2:14 pm pdt my sister had said one thing to adnan that made him angry that I never said. And she innocently told me later that she was like “ I like playing with you, too” to adnan, and even though I no longer had a class with adnan after that year and completely forgot about him the following year, she blamed me that they couldn’t be together. I guess she didn’t care that he broke my wrist and likes someone who might become a future wife beater. 2:18 pm pdt she was able to see him while I was stuck inside with chickenpox. She gave him my drawing. I did make her promise though to not date anyone my age or older than me at that time. But we were too young to be dating? I don’t really remember keeping her from him, or him from her. She dated a guy 11 years older than her that she met days b4 turning 18 years old. She has a lot of power. My mom empowered her probably for along time. 2:22 pm pdt there were times she locked me out of the bedroom and my mom allowed it. When we moved to blossom hill I remember allowing her decorate the bedroom however she wanted to. She did sleep on the top bunk. Maybe she didn’t like that... it’s hard being in a weird divorced family. It’s weird bcz I think when we were kids we maybe used to argue about who would get the top bunk (2:57 pm pdt b4 we ever got a bunk bed ? Hypothetically? we talked in case we would get one?? 2:58 pm pdt) but I got the bottom bunk with the fold out futon. It actually wasn’t good for my back it was all bumpy. 2:27 pm pdt but I used that bed for many years. From 2000? To end of 2014? No it was ≈ 2012/2013. I think I easily forgot about that. 2:29 pm pdt my sister almost caught up to me in height when she was 6th grade. 2:30 pm pdt I gave my nice twin mattress to my friend. 2:31 pm pdt

3:02 pm pdt still cannot breathe. Coughed. Pain skull right front bone skull😖😭😖😭 I never punched anyone that I can recall but god incubus likes to get me punched in the head and ram my head into dense hard objects that are stainless steel? And dense wood? And it makes me pass out or almost pass out, and for years I feel like putting my head on people’s shoulders. I remember when my parents were still together once, when I’m probably 6 years old, my sister says she’s done with eating dinner and she said it sweetly. Yet she didn’t eat vegetables. I don’t want to eat vegetables either. She then says she wants ice cream and my dad gives it to her. I say I want ice cream, too, but he tells me to eat the vegetables. 3:08 pm pdt I screamed for the ice cream. 3:08 pm pdt

3:11 pm pdt I remember finding drawings my sister did that illustrated our mom was dying of debt. I’m trying to recall if I added to that grief. Shortly after those drawings she transferred to New York to go to an expensive art college on loans, and maybe a partial scholarship? I don’t recall it covering everything bcz I remember the loan payments were complained about and I think I remember a big number for the loans. I would have stayed at the coummunity college longer to figure out what I wanted to do but the grants were coming to an end. I did federal work study and was still very shy. When I applied to transfer to a 4 year I remember one of the teachers thought I would not be accepted at one of the colleges. Maybe bcz it’s really hard to get in, but I don’t recall. For some reason I felt probably a little pain? From the comment? Maybe he didn’t mean it that way. Maybe he didn’t intend for it to hurt. 3:20 pm pdt

============= going back to thinking about the twin who I felt unwelcomed by, I dont know if (heart pain) he intended to make me feel that way, or if he has an anxiety introversion problem. 3:22 pm pdt

=============

maybe the incubus did not like that I ate a lot of cookies or pizza when I was in middle school and high school. But my sister caught up to me and surpassed me in height anyway. I thought I remember not eating much 4 breakfast and lunch for years and so I sometimes was a little greedy around cookies and pizza. I don’t know if it was pure greed at this point bcz it was long time ago or if it was an addiction problem. There were a few times I didn’t pay someone in middle school back 4 ice cream. She was smaller than me and I don’t know what her financial situation was back then. In 8th grade ? I tried to help her on a drawing. She won the school’s mascot drawing competition and she took oil painting classes for her 8th grade project. I remember I made a lot of social mistakes. A lot of bad choices like that that probably made people not like me. 3:30 pm pdt in 2010 I thought about sending her a gift card but procrastinated on it. 3:31 pm pdt I remember I earned a lot of credit card rewards but it 99% expired b4 I thought about redeeming on one card. 3:33 pm pdt I still don’t know if I deserved all those head traumas though. In second grade I shared colored pencils and markers with the whole class. I don’t know if that’s who I really am. And even though I was jealous Of my sister I don’t really recall being very mean to her. We played Barbie dolls and video games and watched cartoons together? And we had to be well behaved while our mom slept b4 her work at the grocery store. I wasn’t perfect but I didn’t kill my sister. And I don’t remember hurting her? We shared a bedroom for @ least 18 years and she seemed to be idk maybe thriving? 3:39 pm pdt 3:41 pm pdt

9:42 pm pdt woke up to very bad acid burning feeling pain cramps in pelvis area. I don’t think me hitting her with a very thin Barbie cardboard box counts especially since she started crying b4 the box made impact. The box was about a foot above her head when she started crying. 9:45 pm pdt I am as probably still 8 years old. Wrote about it in an earlier post. 9:45 pm pdt

the incubus gas lights a lot = faking out. If you’re a real avid maroon 5/Adam Levine fan you will know what I’m talking about and why I say this. 9:47 pm pdt I’m so afraid of him wiping the memories of everyone of the things he’s lying of now. He already covered up his dove tattoo (9:48 urge toilet) which I read he got 6 days after 9/11/2001 bcz he was in New York when it happened. He was supposed to be going to classes in five towns college. I think he enrolled bcz it would be easy for him to earn credits. Why? Idk. 9:50 pm pdt

10:10 pm pdt I watched an interview that he took a cross country trip to get to Long Island New York. It might be true but I think he’s omitted something very important that I read probably 5+ years ago that he went with Jane Herman originally to New York because she was going to go to school there. Whether the oberlin stop over was true or not, prior to that I believe he probably went with her and chose to omit it? 10:13 pm pdt my friend tried asking questions to re-confirm what we read 5* years ago bcz we didn’t save the article and cannot find it anymore. If Jane page Herman is reading this, please know it appears you blocked my friend and left her questions unanswered. 10:16 pm pdt

10:24 pm pdt (pain right thigh bone? Flesh? 😖😭🥵😤🥵😤 near joint. Bleeding 🩸) 10:26 pm pdt on Friendster Brendan had girl friends I think I remember a Carly, collette, and a petite red head Katie who I think he wrote to saying she had moved like mj (probably Michael Jordan?) I think 🤔 I remember Carly put Brendan is a PIMP. Collete seemed to have a past affection (affectionate 11:08 pm pdt ) relationship? With him but they are still friends? Katie looks like she’s unrequited love 💕. 10:29 pm pdt a pimp, huh 🤔? 10:30 pm pdt on spokeo it showed that he lived at least once with a heather. And there might have been a Ryan?? I am trying to recall heather’s astrological sign 🪧. 10:32 pm pdt

11:08 pm pdt when I was 8/9 years old I thought 💭 I got diarrhea from Raisin Bran cereal 🥣 after I tried it again at my dad’s. It took a few days for me to think 🤔 this, but I also observed my dad ate the same cereal 🥣 straight out of the box 📦 with his hands 🙌 in the box 📦 but I didn’t make that connection until years later I think 🤔 about the hands 🙌 to the foods. And now it (brain stabbing pain 😖😭��🥵😤🥵) it doesn’t matter anymore. 11:13 pm pdt

[jiuwi]

🎬 >﹏< !? unexpected kisses ♡l

꒰ featuring ! ꒱ diluc, ayato, kazuha, dottore, zhongli ?!

꒰ warning/s ! ꒱ established relationship, gn! reader

— tyvm for 300 !! >< aaaand i kept my promise 😤💪 the promised fluff drabble is now here !! first time writing for dottore as well so it might be ooc TT

DILUC : 「 after hours at the tavern ! 」

after a long day’s work, the people by the tavern had slowly begun to exit and retire to their respective homes. the noise that came along with them died down and soon you were left with the bar’s owner and your lover. it has not been long since you two started going out and he was still shy on initiating anything with you so he often stays silent and gives you subtle, gentle glances instead. though diluc isn’t a big fan of pda, the people in mondstadt can see how he loves you so much just by a single look at him. he was far more... happy and free with you around.

more utc.

so here he was wiping the glasses whilst you were leaning against the counter, elbows placed on the wooden surface and your palms cupping your cheeks. it was quiet and peaceful, neither one of you uttering a word until his eyes land on yours. noticing that, your lips contort into a sweet smile and he gulps, hard, as if you did something out of the ordinary. naturally, his hands have stopped moving and he places the glass down to rub his temples. “diluc? what's the matter?” worried, you try to reach out to him before he sways his hand from left to right, indicating that he’s fine. but obviously you didn’t fall for it.

you stand up abrubtly and grab his face in your hands. “alright, you’ve got to— ah.” between your hands, there is  a man who’s red as a tomato. he doesn’t look at you nor makes an effort to do so. he’s embarrassed for having these ridiculous thoughts about you, thoughts of kissing you. it's not as if he didn’t share a kiss with you before, it’s just that doing it again might actually make him go crazy. and what would you feel knowing that he has such thoughts of you? you’d probably... “diluc!” you snap him out of his thoughts and squeeze his cheeks to get his full attention. “you’re sweating, is it hot?” you glance by the nearby shelves and take a clean glass from the side to fill it up with water. once you did, you handed it to him and he carefully drinks the warm liquid. “now, are you okay?” he nods as you sit back down. he finally meets your eyes and takes your hands in his, caressing your skin and mindlessly drawing invisible circles on them.

finally, you start. “you know, i’m not naive, diluc.” the audible ‘oh’ that came out of his mouth was enough evidence that he was indeed thinking about you. “tell me, would you like to kiss me?” it was a light taunt to make him answer you and he does exactly that. “i do, very much.” the last part sounded like a whisper, not too loud but not too quiet either, enough for only you to hear.

with your eyes closing shut and your lips ready for him to dive into, he leans in and kisses you. softly, gently, like you’re a delicate flower that needed to be preserved. after a long time of not being able to do this with you, he thanks the archons for giving him the courage and status as your partner to press his lips against yours. you pull away breathless while he lets out a slight huff, yet neither of you have any plans to part ways. 

“may i kiss you again?”

“you don’t need to ask, silly.”

AYATO : 「 early mornings ! 」

the day had dawned upon you but that wasn’t solely the reason why you awoke. you find yourself to be cuddled by a man who’s peppering your neck with sweet kisses <33 he’s still in his sleepwear and his voice is still groggy when he greets you. “good morning, love.” he keeps his hand lazily wrapped around your stomach and nuzzles his head on the base of your neck. “ayato, you have work to do.” you playfully remind him while slightly stretching your arms forward. he doesn’t say a word and continues to stay in the same position for the last five minutes.

however when someone knocks on the door to your shared bedroom, he knew that he had to get up or else the butler might barge into the room and drag him out. “ah it seems that i have slept for too long.” he says while getting up and tidying his messy hair. you on the other hand, looked like you’ve been offended but at the same time entertained. “uh-huh, you were sure sleeping soundly earlier.” pertaining to his small pecks of fondness from just a minute ago.

he chuckles. “it is a shame that i must leave you at this moment.” he watches as you turn your body to face him and you point at the door. “well maybe if you do your work then we can spend more time together.”

within a minute he bolts out the door and leaves you there, stunned.

KAZUHA : 「 at the crux ! 」

the refreshing sea breeze hits your skin as you watch the waves ripple against one another. you wish that everyday could be like this, calm and tranquil. you enjoy this, every moment of it. the wind hits your skin and you tap your feet against the floor to add entertainment. just then a figure creeps up from behind and when the figure blows against your ear, you turn around and see kazuha.

“oh you surprised me!” you place a hand on the ear he blew on to rub the ticklish spot. he laughs at the sight and stands beside you, ruby eyes landing on the water down below. then his gaze flickers from the sea and then up to your face. “yes? is there something wrong with my face?” you ask as you gently pat the sides of your face, his gaze never leaving yours. “no, no. it’s nothing,” you didn’t miss the way he smiled and his eyes scrunching up into tiny, crescent moons.

he takes your hand in his and presses his lips firmly onto it, it’s warm and light to the touch. “you’re just too lovely. i should thank the archons for blessing me with such a person.” he makes sure to emphasize that last part and with that, he leaves you alone satisfied.

DOTTORE : 「 at his research facility ! 」

throughout the weeks he had been busy with his research, again. though for some reasons, he decided to let you tag along with him for research purposes, or whatever he means by that. when you entered the empty building, he simply asks you to sit on the chair he prepared and so you did. minutes after minutes passed and a new problem arises from your situation, you’ve been sitting like this for fifteen minutes and he’s not mentioning what exactly your job here is.

he stands from across your seat, eyes assessing your form and turning back to his table once he’s finished. “how long do i have to sit here?” you ask him with your arms crossed. he faces you and walks towards your chair, leaning down and showing you a sly grin. “not long, you can get up now.” he watches you stand up as you rub your sore back and bottom.

you glare at him. “what was that for?” he shrugs his shoulders in response. “oh well, let’s say i’m making a ‘little’ something.” he directs you to the papers scattered across the board and your eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing. it seems like he was making an exact replica of you, a living one that is.

he reaches out for you but a harsh slap to his hand is what greeted him instead. he looks at his hand deliriously and peers back to your agitated state. “you’re crazy.” you hiss, watching as he towers over you and grabs you by the hips, preventing you from escaping. you struggle to get out of his grip and he whispers against the shell of your ear, lips brushing against the smooth flesh and leaving a peck there. “and i know full well how much you like that.”

ZHONGLI : 「 a birthday surprise ! 」

the two of you haven’t seen each other a lot recently. your schedules haven’t exactly been... great, to say the least. your schedules have been colliding with each other for the past month and neither of you got the time to see each other. if there’s a miracle, you’d be blessed to only see a glimpse of his figure before he disappears into the bustling crowd of liyue.

his days aren’t that nice either. he comes home late and wakes up very early to go to the funeral parlor, leaving you in your deep slumber most of the time.

tonight however, it was different. zhongli had gotten permission from hu tao to leave early as it was your birthday. obviously she agreed and he raced back home with a bouquet of flowers in hand. he knocks on the door and you open it with astonishment labeled on your face. he was sweating, hair disheveled, and most of all, his tiny, apologetic smile. without wasting a second you lead him into the living room and scramble to get him out of his coat, into which he kindly offers to take it off himself to let you relax. you place the flowers on a nearby table and turn to him with a warm cloth in your hand.

“happy birthday, my dear.” he keeps his eyes lowered and bows his head in apology. “i apologize, i’m late for your birthday and—” before he could finish his sentence, you interrupt him and handed him the cloth to wipe his sweat. “hush now, you’re never too late for anything. i’m glad you’re here, zhongli, thank you.” your hand lies atop of his and he looks at you with pure adoration laid out in his amber glazed eyes.

with one swift move he leans in and gives you a sweet kiss on the cheek, his fingers intertwine with yours and yours do the same. before one of you can say anything else, he engulfs you in a tight hug, one that indicates that he misses you. you inhale his scent and at last, you finally feel at home.