#kids deserve better than that don’t give me the it’s for kids bullshit

[toastydoll]

We’re really speedrunning the whole mh g2 knockoff with the adventures of the ghoul squad rainbow edition huh

[ropebunnykant]

i think kids should have way more of a say in custody battles btw

[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 😤

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Franco Colapinto," Logan says quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"How could I forget?" +

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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username1 IM SOBBING

username2 i still can’t believe this

username3 well hold your tears because you’re next

pierregasly Chin up, mate @/logansargeant you’re a champ 👊

alex_albon You will always be family @/logansargeant, It’s so sad to see you go

username4 that was cute now hand your seat to daniel or yuki

username5 THE FIRST PIC 🥺🥺 IM NOT OKAY

username6 oh she’s PISSED

username7 this is so unfair for logan

username8 colapinto has an enemy on track already and it’s her 😭

username9 the best trio will be incomplete now i’m not okay

username10 YOU NEXT BYE BYE

logansargeant Thank you for everything, go make me proud 💙

↳ username1 IM SOBBING AGAIN

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.

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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

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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

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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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"YN…" Oscar starts, his tone cautionary.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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.

[daryltwdixon]

Teach You

Daryl Dixon x Reader

warnings: smutttttt

notes: daryl has 0 game, 0 experience, and is eager to please. I thought about this as I was falling asleep last night and couldn't wait to write it for you. Inspired by Norman saying if Daryl ever got down and dirty there would be premature ejaculation

She/her pronouns, foreplay only, gets straight to it

The invitation had been innocent enough, though Daryl had found a way to make it a minefield in his head. Dinner at her house. Nothing fancy, she’d said. Just them, some canned spaghetti, and maybe a drink.

He’d almost said no, but the way she’d looked at him—smiling soft and easy, like she wanted him there more than anyone else—made him mutter, “Yeah, alright.”

Now, he’s sitting on her couch, shoulders stiff, his crossbow propped awkwardly by the door. She hums in the kitchen, clinking dishes together. He wonders if it’s too late to leave.

“Don’t sit too quiet in there,” she calls, teasing. “You’ll scare the furniture.”

Daryl huffs a laugh through his nose. “Furniture don’t need me to make it nervous.”

She steps into the room, carrying two mismatched bowls. “You kidding? You’re terrifying. Real menace, Dixon.” She hands him a bowl, sitting close enough for her thigh to press against his.

Daryl shifts, his grip tightening on the bowl. “S’not what people usually say.”

She gives him a sidelong glance, lips quirking. “What do they say?”

He doesn’t answer, staring into the spaghetti like it’s gonna save him. She leans in, the bare skin of her arm brushing his, and he forgets how to breathe.

“You’re not used to this, huh?” Her tone is light, but her eyes are searching.

He shrugs. “Dunno what ‘this’ is.”

“Someone flirting with you,” she says, blunt as ever, setting her bowl aside. “How’s that feel, by the way?”

He almost chokes. “Ain’t what you’re doin’.”

“It’s exactly what I’m doing.”

His ears burn, and he fights the urge to stand up and bolt. “Y/N—”

She cuts him off, leaning closer, her voice dropping to something softer. “If I haven't made it abundantly clear lately: I like you. A lot.”

The words hit him harder than any walker ever could. He swallows, glancing at her, then quickly away. “Ain’t right.”

“Why not?”

“I’m… too old.” He shifts again, looking anywhere but her face. “You could do better.”

Her laugh is quiet, almost disbelieving. “You really think that?”

He nods, his jaw tightening. “Don’t got think ‘bout it. It’s true.”

She tilts her head, watching him for a long moment. Then, setting her hand lightly on his knee, she asks, “When’s the last time someone told you you’re wrong?”

He tenses under her touch but doesn’t pull away. “Not wrong—”

“Daryl,” she interrupts gently. “You’ve got this whole big, twisted idea in your head about what you deserve. And it’s bullshit.”

He stiffens. “Ain’t—”

“Bullshit,” she says again, firmer this time. “And I’m gonna prove it.”

She stands, setting her bowl aside, then his, and turns to face him. Her hands are on her hips, her gaze steady as she looks down at him. “Can I ask you something personal?”

He frowns but nods hesitantly.

“Have you ever… been with someone?”

His face flushes crimson, and he drops his gaze to the floor.

“That’s a no, then.” Her voice is warm, not teasing, but it makes him flinch anyway.

“Don’t mean nothin’,” he mumbles, fidgeting where he sits.

“It means everything,” she counters, stepping closer. “Because if no one’s shown you what it feels like to be wanted, how’re you supposed to know?”

His heart hammers against his ribs as she moves between his knees, crouching down and resting her hands lightly on his shins. He stares at her like a deer caught in headlights. “What’re you doin’?”

She smiles, tilting her head. “Only what you want me to. But you have to tell me if you do.”

He swallows hard, his hands gripping the edge of the couch. “I...I dunno.”

“It’s okay to want, Daryl,” she murmurs, moving her legs up and onto his lap with a slow, deliberate movement so she's straddling him, her hands now resting delicately on his shoulders.

His breath catches, and he freezes, his hands hovering uselessly in the air, "Okay," he breathes.

Her voice drops lower, softer. “You don’t even know where to put your hands, do you?”

“I— I can’t—”

She gently lifts his wrists, guiding his hands to the curve of her hips. “Start here.”

He stares at her, wide-eyed, his fingers twitching against her waist. “You sure ‘bout this?”

“I’ve never been more sure.” She says, her hand coming up to cup his jaw, the touch sending electricity into his skin, “I’ll show you what you’ve been missing. Only if you want me to.”

His grip tightens slightly, a shuddering breath escaping him. “Yeah. I want it. I want you.”

Daryl barely has time to process anything before she tilts his chin up, forcing his gaze to meet hers. Her hands are steady, her expression soft but laced with something deeper-desire, maybe? His throat goes dry.

"First things first," she murmurs, brushing her thumb along the line of his jaw. "You ever kissed anyone before?"

He shakes his head, his breathing becoming irregular.

Her smile softens as it spreads across her face, endearing and non judgmental. She leans in, her breath warm against his lips. "Then let me teach you."

Her mouth brushes his softly, testing, like she's giving him the chance to pull away. He doesn't. Instead, his hands tighten on her hips as she deepens the kiss, her lips moving against his in a way that makes his head spin.

"Relax," she whispers against his mouth, pulling back just enough to guide him. He exhales shakily, his shoulders dropping slightly. When she kisses him again, he leans into it this time, his lips parting hesitantly.

She hums in approval, her hands threading into his hair, tugging gently to encourage him. He nearly lets out an inhuman noise at the feeling of her fingers curling in his hair, but he swallows it down, instead focusing on her soft lips on his.

"That's it," she breathes, her voice low and sultry. "Just follow me."

Her tongue traces the seam of his lips, and he jerks slightly, his breath hitching. She pulls back, laughing softly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," he rasps, his face burning. "Just... wasn't expectin' that."

"Well, get used to it," she teases, leaning in again. This time, when her tongue slides tentatively into his mouth, he meets her halfway, mimicking her movements as best as he can. It's clumsy, but she doesn't seem to mind, her soft moans sending heat straight through him. It suddenly occurs to him that she might be enjoying this just as much as hime.

As the kiss deepens, her hips begin to move, rolling slowly against his lap. Daryl tenses, his fingers twitching against her sides as she grinds against him, finally drawing a low, shaky groan from his throat.

Her lips brushing against his stubble and eventually against the shell of his ear where she whispers, "You like that?"

"Yeah. Feels-feels good." he nods, swallowing hard.

She smiles, pressing a kiss to his jaw before pulling back just enough to grab the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she lifts it over her head, tossing it aside to reveal bare skin and soft curves that leave him staring, wide-eyed and trozen.

"You're beautiful," he mutters before he can stop himself, the words tumbling out unfiltered.

Her smile softens, and she cups his face in her hands, searching his eyes. "Could say the same about you. Touch me, Daryl."

His hands flex nervously on her hips, now pressing into bare skin that feels hot to the touch. "Don't wanna mess it up."

"You won't." She reaches for his hands again, guiding them upward until his calloused fingers brush the swell of her breasts. He sucks in a sharp breath, his touch featherlight and hesitant.

"Is this okay?" he asks, his voice rough with uncertainty.

"It's perfect," she murmurs, arching into his touch. "Here, let me show you."

She places her hands over his, guiding his fingers to knead and explore, her soft sighs of pleasure encouraging him. He grows bolder with each movement, his thumbs brushing over her nipples, drawing a gasp from her lips.

"Like that," she breathes, her hips grinding down harder against him. "You're doing so good, Daryl."

Her praise sends a jolt of heat through him, and he pulls her closer, burying his face against her neck as his confidence grows.

"Never done nothin' like this before," he admits, his voice muffled, his lips tracing the column of her neck and moving down to her shoulders, onto her clavicle and chest.

"You're a fast learner," she says breathlessly, tugging his hair gently to make him look at her. Her lips find his again, hungrier this time, and he responds with a desperation that surprises even him.

His hands continue their kneading of her breasts, traveling around her to hug her tight against him, the swell of them pressing into his clothed chest, his hips beginning to move instinctively beneath her. The thought occurs to him that he hates clothes.

She gasps against his mouth, breaking the kiss to press her forehead to his.

"You're incredible," she whispers, her voice breathy. "I've wanted this for so long."

Daryl swallows hard, his chest heaving.

"Don't know what you see in me, but... I don't wanna stop."

"Then don't," she murmurs, kissing him again. "I'll take care of you. Just let me."

With newfound confidence—or maybe just desperation—Daryl leans forward, pressing his lips against the soft skin of her chest. He works his way down, his kisses slow and clumsy, but she doesn’t seem to mind. Her breath hitches when his mouth brushes between the swells of her breasts, and when he kisses the top, then the underside, he swears she arches into him on purpose, trying to drive him out of his damn mind.

Then, tentatively, he takes her nipple into his mouth. The sound she makes—low and ragged—has his cock straining so hard against his jeans he thinks he might lose it right there. Her hands bury themselves in his hair, tugging lightly as his tongue flicks out, testing, tasting her. She gasps, and that sound drives a hunger in him he’s never felt before.

His hips shift beneath her as she continues grinding against him, her movements deliberate and unrelenting. The friction is almost too much, the ache in his lap unbearable. He grips her hips hard, trying to slow her down. “You’re gonna drive me crazy,” he mutters, his voice rough, lips brushing against her neck.

She exhales a shaky laugh, a smile teasing her lips. “That’s kinda the point.”

Before he can respond, she leans back slightly, her hands moving to the waistband of her jeans. “Here,” she says, popping the button open with practiced ease. His breath catches as she begins to slide the zipper down, revealing the curve of her hip.

His mind races. He’s never had a woman like this before—so wanting for him, so sure of herself. His chest tightens at the thought of messing this up, of not being enough for her. But at the same time, his heart pounds with anticipation. God, he’s thought about her like this more times than he can admit. What her skin would feel like. What her lips would taste like. And now, it’s happening, and he feels so far out of his depth he doesn’t know where to begin.

She must notice his wide eyed stare, because her other hand tilts his chin up then, catching his gaze, "Only if you want to," she says again.

His throat is suddenly very dry, and all he can do is nod.

She smiles, and his chest tightens. She guides his hand beneath the waistband of her jeans, the soft skin of her pubic bone brushing his fingers first. The light tuft of hair there is the only thing rougher than her skin, and when his fingers graze lower, they slide easily over the slick heat of her center.

A growl rumbles in his chest, unbidden, as he realizes how wet she is. For him. His head spins, his blood roaring in his ears. When his fingers dip lower, pressing into her, her walls clench around them greedily. She moans—loud, uninhibited—and the sound nearly undoes him.

"Yes, Daryl, that's it," she breathes. "Curl them, baby."

He does as she says, his fingers pressing into her, finding that soft, spongy spot that makes her cry out and buck against him. His palm brushes against the swollen nub at the apex of her sex, and the way she moves against him, grinding against his hand, has him gripping her hip with his free hand to ground himself.

“Goddamn,” he mutters, his voice raw as he watches her, awestruck.

She’s beautiful—blissed out and needy, her body moving with his like they’ve done this a hundred times before. He can’t take it anymore. His free hand comes up, fingers curling lightly around the back of her neck as he pulls her down to kiss him. The kiss is desperate, hungry, and the little sounds she makes against his lips make his body tighten unbearably.

“Don’t stop,” she gasps against his mouth, her voice trembling. “I’m so close.”

Her words send a jolt through him, and he groans low in his throat, the tension in his core mounting to an unbearable peak as he groans against her lips, gasping for breath as his high flushes through him. Before he can stop it, his release hits him hard and stars break against his vision. Her whimpers rise to full on ragged moans as she presses into his hand then one last time, his fingers knuckle deep inside her as they press against her spongey walls as she tightens around them, sucking his digits further into her as the climax breaks over her.

His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, her kisses trailing down his jaw and neck as her hips slow, her ragged breaths giving way to soft, contented sighs.

When she pulls back, her cheeks flushed and her eyes hooded with lust, she looks down at him and smiles. “Did you just…?” she asks, her gaze dropping to his lap.

His face burns as he remembers himself, the wetness in his pants prominent as they both look down. Slowly, he pulls his hand from her, the loss of contact making her frown slightly. He bows his head, shame tightening his chest as he presses his hands into his lap.

“That is so hot,” she murmurs, her voice rich and warm, not even a hint of laughter behind it.

Daryl’s head jerks up, his breath catching in his throat. “Hot?” he rasps, his voice cracking slightly.

She nods, her smile soft and utterly disarming as her fingers trail along his jaw. “Yeah. You’re so worked up just from me, Daryl. That’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her words make his head spin. She’s serious—dead serious—and it hits him like a freight train. She isn’t mocking him, isn’t annoyed or disappointed. She likes him. Wants him. And not just in some passing way.

“You really mean that?” he mumbles, his hands twitching where they return to rest awkwardly against her hips.

Her brow furrows slightly, her expression turning tender. “Of course I mean it. You have no idea how crazy you drive me, do you?”

He stares at her, stunned silent, his heart hammering in his chest. He doesn’t understand it—can’t wrap his head around why someone like her would want someone like him—but the look in her eyes leaves no room for doubt.

Her lips brush against his, slow and teasing. “Wanna go again?” she whispers, her voice like honey. “I’ve got a few more things I can teach you.”

His heart stutters, and he swears the heat in her gaze alone could undo him all over again. She’s not just enjoying herself—she’s reveling in it, like she’s been waiting for this moment as long as he has.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, rough and hoarse. He swallows hard, his body stirring again despite the lingering haze of his release. “Yeah, okay.”

Her smile widens, and it’s nothing short of radiant. She leans in, her mouth covering his in a kiss that feels deeper this time, more confident. He lets himself relax, his hands finding her waist, and for the first time, he lets himself believe this is real—that she’s here, wanting him, and not judging him for a second.

Her hips roll against him again, slow and deliberate, and his fingers tighten instinctively on her waist. When she breaks the kiss, her lips curve into a smirk, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. “Good. ‘Cause we’re just getting started.”

Part II

[youreverydayfangirl]

DANCING WITH OUR HANDS TIED

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where new rumors begin, secrets start to be revealed and they never stop loving each other

warning: online hate, mentions of cheating

a/n: after two months its finally here for you guys

face claim: sabrina carpenter (just had to because shes gorgeous)

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landonorris has uploaded a story

seen by yourusername, exbsf and 4, 583, 586 others

yourusername lando as much as i appreciate you trying to do things right

yourusername the damage has already been done ive moved on

landonorris well i havent y/n

landonorris everything that happened is shit

landonorris you never did anything wrong and i let our four year relationship go to waste

landonorris both of us deserve better than that

yourusername i know

exbsf are you fucking kidding me lando

exbsf after all this bullshit your threatening me???

this user has been blocked

Things are heating up between Lando Norris and Ex Bsf after their sudden split

After Landos instagram story on Thursday ExBsf has since come to social media, talking about how she was blind sided by the break up and then further went to discuss how boundaries are important in a relationship and how allegedly Norris has been in contact with his ex girlfriend Y/n L/n and they have been seeing each other behind her back.

CLICK HERE TO READ MORE!

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by jimmyandsassysdad, thatoneartgirlalex and 30 others

y/nsprivate wtf is happening guys

thatoneartgirlalex KARMA IS WHATS HAPPENING

-> y/nsprivate FOR REAL THO

keekslikestospammmm BYE BYE BITCH

-> y/nsprivate KEEKS 😭

jimmyandsassysdad everything worked out just how it should've 🖤

-> y/nsprivate I LOVE YOU 🖤

-------

Y/n couldn't believe it, she just stared at her phone in shock. She had been scrolling absentmindedly through her phone when she saw it. The post. Everything had been coming to head for a while and she knew it, but to see the words written out in front of her? She didn't know what to do.

Exbsf had caused her so much pain and now? It seemed karma was catching up to her. It should've felt good. It should habe been validating. But instead, it was just old wounds reopening.

"Liefde?" Max's comforting voice rang out.

She didn't realise that Max had entered the room. His voice was soft, laced with concern. She gave him a small smile as he crouched infront of her, grabbing her hands to give them a kiss.

"Hey, whats wrong?" He murmured as he brushed a strand of her hair back.

She couldn't get the words out, instead she grabbed her phone and handed it to him. Max took one glance at the screen, his jaw tightening as he pieced it together.

“Y/n…” His voice softened even more as he put the phone down and turned his full attention to her. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Tears blurred her vision, and before she could stop herself, they spilled over and she hid herself in her hands as they wrecked her body.

Her eyes met his, glassy and red rimmed. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I should feel relieved, but instead, it just… hurts. It’s like everything she did is coming back all at once.”

Max nodded, his gaze understanding. “Because you cared about her. You gave them a part of yourself, and they threw it away. That kind of hurt doesn’t just disappear, all I can do is promise you that I'm not going anywhere Mijn liefje.”

He pulled her close, holding her against his chest. He didn’t say anything more, just rested his chin on top of her head and rubbed gentle circles on her back. His steady heartbeat was a grounding rhythm, and slowly, the sobs subsided into quiet sniffles.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest.

Max pulled back just enough to look at her, brushing a tear from her cheek with his thumb. “You don’t have to thank me. I’ll always be here, Y/n. No matter what.”

------

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exbsf cause I know that you'll never feel sorry

oliviarodrigo hey! so never use my song again 😃

-> exbsf get out of my insta weirdo

-> sabrinacarpenter LIV 😭

-> oliviarodrigo what?

-> user1 HELP I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

user2 is that not y/ns sweater

user3 using livs song is WILD

landonorris has posted a story

-----------

Y/n quietly hummed to herself and she took in the view infront of her. The sun was dipping low on the horizon, painting the ocean in hues of gold and pink as the yacht gently swayed on the calm waves. She took a sip of champagne, waiting patiently for Max as he had set up a picnic for them. The soft sound of the waves was the only noise around, making Y/n feel a kind of calm she had never felt before.

“Y/n,” Max’s voice called softly from behind her, and she turned to see him standing a few feet away, his hands tucked nervously into his pockets.

She smiled, tilting her head. “What’s with the serious face? You’re usually the calm one between us.”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, even I get nervous sometimes, come here.” He pulled her up and hugged her, swaying for a moment before pulling back. Before she could respond, he closed the gap between them, taking her hands in his. The warmth in his gaze was almost overwhelming, and her heart began to race.

“I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time, and I know its soon but it feels so right,” he started, his thumbs gently brushing over her knuckles. “And no matter how much I planned it, I don’t think I could ever put into words how much you mean to me.”

“You’ve been my anchor, my safe place, and my biggest adventure all at once. Every day with you feels like a gift, Y/n. And I want that for the rest of my life.” He let go of one of her hands, reaching into his pocket to pull out a small navy velvet box. Slowly, he got down on one knee, opening it to reveal a ring, the diamond on it sparkling from the last light of the setting sun.

“Y/n, will you marry me?”

Tears filled her eyes as she covered her mouth with one hand, overwhelmed by the moment. The love in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes, it was everything she had ever dreamed of.

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice breaking. Then louder, with a laugh bubbling out, she repeated, “Yes!” She then leaned forward to embrace him in a hug, the pair kneeling as Maxs heart thumped.

Y/n leant to kiss him, Max meeting her halfway. Once they pulled back they heard a loud cheer.

Y/n spun around to see her four closest friends standing further away from them, Kika and Alex both crying, although Alex was comforting Charles at the same time.

“How did you?!” Y/n started, looking between Max and their friends.

Max shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I might’ve had a little help setting this up.”

Kika rushed over to hug Y/n, tears in her eyes. “We wouldn’t miss this moment for the world!”

Charles handed Max a champagne bottle, clapping him on the back. “About time, mate.”

Pierre grinned as he popped the first confetti popper. “We’ve been holding our breath in there for so long, but it was worth it!”

The night turned into an impromptu celebration, the five of them toasting under the stars. Y/n couldn’t stop smiling, her hand never leaving Max’s. And as she looked around at her friends, laughing and cheering for her and Max, she couldn’t imagine a more perfect beginning to the rest of their lives together.

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

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OMG ANOTHER POST?????

i feel like i need to feed you guys, i'll start working on the next part soon

also felt like this was a good length one for yous

anyways a question for you. my main focus is finishing this series and then i'll give you the charles series but would anyone be interested in a lando spinoss series/imagine. i feel like man deserves a break omg.

anyway lmk xx

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[schrodingerscougar]

Hold it together (Simon Riley x reader)

Note: This takes place seven years after the second part. Warning: death.

It had only been three weeks since the funeral. The girls were still closed up like clams, shutting Simon out completely despite their young age. Lucy was seven, Nora was five, and he couldn't believe that they had to experience the death of their mother this soon. He was lost as well, having no idea how to deal with losing you.

While at the beginning he pushed you away, believing he didn't deserve the love you were trying to give him, later you became his other half, his partner in crime, the most caring and nicest lover he ever had. He would have never imagined he would once have someone like you in his life. And now? You were gone for good because of that goddamn accident.

Johnny loved the girls and whenever he was around, he had offered to look out for them while the two of you went out on a date. Now he was trying to lighten the mood, coming up with ideas for fun activities, but Simon saw it in his daughters that they weren't excited about them.

While he was waiting for his broken ribs to heal, the sergeant stayed with them to make life easier. One night Simon tucked in the girls and his heart ached when he saw the youngest getting ready to sleep with a photo of you on the edge of her bed.

“You miss mommy?” he asked as he swept a strand of hair out of her beautiful little face.

Nora was sniffling quietly as she nodded.

He loved both his daughters equally, but the balance was perfect. Lucy was a lot like him, a real tomboy who had been wanting to try martial arts ever since they watched the original The Karate Kid movie. She had been handling your death surprisingly well, maybe that's because her personality was a lot like his.

But this young lady was your carbon copy in and out. Seeing her missing you so much proved your strong connection, the one he would never be able to build with her. He had never seen anything like it, and this made it hard for him to console her if she was upset. She had always ran to you for support, but now she was sad because you were gone.

Simon pulled the girl against his chest, his eyes falling on his other daughter who was watching them from her own bed. He could see her eyes shining from the tears, but she held herself together. “It's okay, babygirl,” he whispered to Nora as he rubbed her back. “I miss her too, you know. And I'm sure Lucy misses her as well. But we're strong, aren't we?”

She mumbled something in agreement then pulled away to bury herself under the thick blanket. “Goodnight, Daddy.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead then stood up and went over to Lucy, leaning down to give her a goodnight kiss too. “Sleep well, big girl.”

When he turned to the door, Johnny was already waiting for him, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest. There was a look of understanding in his blue eyes, and he put a hand on Simon's shoulder when they reached the bottom of the stairs.

“They're kids, they'll adapt and move on. Maybe not soon, but eventually they will,” he tried to assure him. “I'm not so sure about you, though. I woke up to you coming down the stairs last night. I swear you're moving around this place like a real ghost.”

With a sigh, Simon walked around the Scotsman and threw himself on the couch. “Her parents want custody,” he told him, finally giving him an insight into what was truly bothering him. “They're willing to drag me to court. I'm not suitable to be a single parent because of my job, they say.”

Johnny sat on the armchair next to him and rested his elbows on his thighs as he leaned closer. “Bullshit. Price would help you get an early retirement if you asked,” he said, looking way more upset than Simon.

“Who knows, maybe staying with them would be better for the girls.”

“Don’t say this. You need to fight for them. They need their father,” Johnny added.

This broke Simon. He couldn't hold back the tears anymore, the tears he had been fighting ever since that night. His friend being by his side helped him keep it together, but they never talked about what exactly he went through because he always said he couldn't remember.

But he remembered lying in the ambulance, asking about you, begging for crumbs to find out what happened to you, if you were also on your way to the hospital, but they didn't tell him anything. “I’m sorry, we don't know,” one of them said.

“Talk to me, Simon,” Johnny quietly said once he sat down next to him on the other side of the couch. “You need to get this out of your system or you'll go crazy.”

Still fighting his tears, the lieutenant took a deep breath and finally began to talk. “She was unconscious. I–I remember looking over at her in the wreck but she wasn't moving, wasn't responding to my questions. They later said I had a concussion so probably that's why some time fell out of my memory. I don't remember how I ended up in the ambulance.

They didn't tell me anything. In the hospital I got out of the bed and went to look for someone who could finally tell me what the fuck happened, but I bumped into a doctor who was talking to a police officer. That's when I found out she was dead by the time help arrived,” he finished with a shaking voice.

Johnny leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “Did you have the chance to say goodbye?”

“I might have threatened someone to be allowed to go to the morgue. Her body was bruised, scarred, and bloody. Not how I want to remember her. But yes, I could say goodbye.”

“You need to fight, Simon. For her. She wouldn't want her parents to take the girls away from you,” the sergeant told him firmly as he reassuringly put a hand on his shoulder.

Just when he was about to answer, tell him he felt like it was a battle he was sure to lose, they heard light footsteps coming from the door. It was Lucy who walked over to them, sitting next to his father and resting her head on his arm.

“Do Grandma and Grandpa really want to take us away?” she asked hesitantly as she glanced up at her father. Simon nodded. “I don't want to go. I want to stay with you, Dad,” Lucy said, already sobbing.

Simon let out a sigh before wrapping an arm around her small body and placing a soft kiss on the crown of her head. “I don't want you to leave either, trust me. I'll do everything I can to stop them, okay?”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

You're a Dead Man (Part 2) | JJ Maybank x Routledge!reader

Summary: After JJ has a run in with his father, he begins to spiral and doubt his abilities to be a father, leaving you wondering if you're going to be a single mom.

A/N: A couple people requested part 2 and a great anon gave me this idea! Hope you like it. Link for part 1 is down below, but this could probably be read as a stand alone too!

|||| Part 1 ||||

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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“What do you know about being a dad? You’re gonna fuck that kid up just like I fucked you up.”

JJ replays the conversation with is dad over and over in his head. The anxiety growing even more intense. His hand shakes as he presses it into his heart.

He didn’t know anything about being a dad. His dad was right with that one. JJ had the bad genes; Alcoholics, drug addicts. The reoccurring jail time. The dead beat dads. It all ran in his family. A never ending vicious cycle that he was going to be continuing.

You recently had your scan, finding out you and JJ would be welcoming a baby boy into the world 20 weeks from now. A mini JJ. After needing to get back to work, both you and JJ split ways and headed back to work.

He was working on a boat motor in the local shop when his boss came to him, “Maybank, you got a visitor.” He threw his thumb over his shoulder.

JJ glanced up, expecting you or one of the pogues but didn’t expect to see his dad there, taking a drag of his cigarette, a subtle sway in his posture.

JJ mentally cursed, not wanting to deal with this.

“Take it out back. I can’t have customers walking up on his bullshit today.” His boss instructs, knowing Luke enough.

JJ wipes his greasy hands on his rag and jumps down from the ladder of the boat, heading toward his dad. “What the hell do you want?” He motions over to the right with his head, walking toward the side of the shop, Luke following with a stumble.

“Jesus Christ.” JJ mutters, smelling the alcohol on his breath.

“Heard you’re gonna be a dad.” Luke says with a slur.

JJ places his hands on his hips and nods, replying with a nonchalant, “yup.”

Luke sniffs, wiping his hand against his nose, “What do you know about being a dad? You’re gonna fuck that kid up just like I fucked you up.”

JJ couldn't believe his ears, “Did you seriously come all the way down here just to say this? I got work to do.” JJ begins to walk away but Luke roughly grabs him by the arm, “I’m not done talking to you, boy! Don’t you walk away from me.”

“You know it’s true. Do the kid a favor and stay away from him. We don’t need another fucked up Maybank in the world. Look at you, working at the local boat shop. You’ll never make it at anything else. You’ll never be able to give the kid a good life. Face it," Luke takes a step toward JJ, pointing an accusing finger in his face, "you’ll end up just like me, drunk trying to make it by in life wondering where it all went to shit.”

JJ rips his arm from Luke’s tight grasp, a red mark left behind, “you have no idea of what kind of dad I’ll be. As far as I’m concerned I know exactly what kind of dad not to be.” He starts to walk away, Luke continuing to slur and insult him.

“JJ you’re going to be a shit of a father! Don't say I didn't warn you. You'll be a sorry son of a bitch bringing a kid into this world!"

~

JJ's thoughts were running rampant. His mind slowly convincing itself his dad was right. He would never be a good father. He didn't know how to be a father. You and the baby deserved better than what he could offer you.

The old rock music thumping in his ears as he opened the wooden door. It smelled like cigarette smoke. The place started to get full as everyone begins to get off work.

"What can I get you?" The barkeep asks, cleaning the bar top in front of him.

JJ has his chance to back out of this. He glances down at his watch, you'd probably just be getting off of work and heading home. You told him at the doctor's appointment you would fix his favorite tonight. It was you and JJ's turn to fix dinner for the Pogues.

He knew he needed to leave and go home but his mind pushed his legs forward, taking a seat at the bar. He knew addiction ran in his family and this was bound to happen to him. His dad was right. Might as well speed things along.

"Whisky."

~

As you came close to finishing dinner, you glanced at your phone again, nothing from JJ. He should have been home by now. You'd called and texted but no response, you began to worry.

"Hey sis," John B greeted coming through the front door, Sarah following behind.

"How did your appointment go?" Sarah asks with a smile, pushing past John B to greet you. She was just as excited as you to find out the gender. Sarah had a bet with Kie - it was gonna be a girl. She just knew it and even placed a bet on it. She immediately frowns at your worried appearance, "What's wrong?"

"JJ should be home by now and I can't get in touch with him."

"Maybe he got stuck working late? I know he said he had to finish building that motor and wanted to get it done today." John B shrugs it off, popping one of the veggie pieces in his mouth, "I wouldn't worry too much about it."

"Yeah but," you shake your head, "He usually would at least send me a text to let me know. He knew I was cooking his favorite tonight and he said he wouldn't miss it. Somethings wrong, I can feel it." You place a hand on your growing bump, a sense of uneasiness flooding over you.

"Have you tried calling him?" Sarah asks, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed, "Like John B said maybe he's busy."

"I've called and texted." You look between your brother and Sarah, "Something's wrong, John B."

He sighs with a nod. He didn't need to hear anything else from you, he can see it was truly bothering you. "I'll find him."

"Thank you." You say softly.

He nods and kisses your head, "Anything for you."

~

JJ couldn't remember which drink he was on. 8? maybe 9? He was slurring his words, swaying. He'd become the center of attention at the bar, talking with a few people, laughing it up. He could feel his phone buzz and checked it, blinking his eyes to try and focus. The thinks it says John B but he can't be for sure.

One of the guys he'd been talking to slapped him on the shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts, he slid the phone back in his pocket.

"Another drink," JJ slaps the bar top.

"You sure? I think you've had enough," The bartender states.

"Oh come on, man, give him what he wants!" One of the guys says, "The fun is just getting started."

JJ saw the little baggie and the guys crazy eyes. JJ raised his eyebrows, "I don't know man." Even in his drunken state, you flash across his mind.

The guy places a hand on JJ's shoulder, "Live a little. You deserve it." And so JJ follows the guy and a few buddies out back.

~

John B went by his work to find the shop closed and moved on to a couple places to check. It was the 4th place, Blackbeards Bar, that he finally had someone say they saw JJ, but when he went to check out behind the bar, JJ and those guys were no where to be found. John B filled with dread.

He drove the Twinkie through town, looking left and right for any sign of JJ but didn't see him. He reluctantly returned back to the chateau where you and Sarah sat around the table. He dreaded having to return without JJ and explain where he was last seen. The bar was known to be occupied by the drunks and druggies. Luke was a frequent customer.

He could tell you'd been crying. You stood when he opened the door, "Did you find him?"

John B shook his head and saw your hopes get crushed, your body physically showing the signs. Your shoulders dropped, "he has to be out there somewhere, John B. Maybe you didn't look hard enough-" You snatched your keys off the table, storming past him, but he steps in front of you, "I looked everywhere. Y/n he was last seen at Blackbeards."

"he wouldn't-" you shook your head, "It had to be a mistake."

"He was seen with Luke's crowd, y/n."

And your world came crushing down.

~

JJ didn't know how he'd done it and made it all the way to the chateau but he did. He stumbled up the front stairs. The lights, indoor and out were on. He hoped he hadn't missed dinner. You'd cooked his favorite and he was starving. He belched as he kicked his shoes off, stumbling into the nearby shelf, something came crashing down. He giggled to himself, "Oh fuck."

The door swung open, there you stood in your gown and robe. He closed one eye, squinting to focus in on you and gives you a drunk grin, "there's my baby."

He's taken aback as you lunge at him, hands hitting his chest. it sends him flying back into the porch post. You probably could have just done it with your finger and knocked him over at how drunk and high he was.

"What the fuck?!" He manages to catch himself, "What the fuck was that for?!"

"You stupid son of a bitch! Do you know how worried I've been? It's 4 o clock in the morning! I was about to call the police!"

John B and the other Pogues stood at the door, watching this scene unfold. They committed to staying up with you, hoping to keep you company and keep you calm. You were only a few minutes from having another breakdown.

"Oh shit," JJ laughs, "It's 4 am? Time flies when you're having fun then." He straightens himself up, but stays with his back pressed against the post to keep himself from swaying. It didn't stop the room from spinning.

You didn't know whether to cry or scream. You were beyond angry; heartbroken that JJ had put you through something like this. Pregnancy hormones only made it worse. It was only in the light, you could see the white powder on his nostrils.

"Is that coke?" You ask in disbelief, pointing to his nose.

He quickly wipes it away with his sleeve, "no-"

You cry out, absolutely frustrated, "JJ, what the fuck is wrong with you! This isn't you. You're out late, drinking and now doing drugs with some of your dad's buddies? We're going to have a baby in 4 months. You can't do shit like this. You can't spiral. You have responsibilities!"

JJ could feel his anger boiling, threatening to blow. His entire body going hot, his face growing red, as he points an accusing finger in your face, "You don't get to tell me what to do."

You'd seen JJ get angry before, but had never had it directed at you. You couldn't believe you were about to say this, but he looked like Luke staring back. You could feel John B's presence beside you, ready to defend his sister. He didn't like the crazy look in JJ's eyes or how he threatened you.

You straighten your back, showing JJ you weren't afraid of him. You were pissed he'd done something like this, but when you thought more about it, there had to have been something that set JJ off. He was so happy at the appointment. Nervous, but excited to find out he was having a boy. He even made the comment, "My son will never feel the way I did."

From the time you departed to back to work, something had changed and the only thing that could have set JJ off would be his dad. You knew his anger wasn't meant for you.

JJ surrenders, "Go ahead, yell at me. Tell me how horrible of a dad I'm gonna be. How I'm gonna fuck that kid up just like I'm fucked up." He holds his arms out at his side, "The kid doesn't need me. If anything he's better off without me. You're better off without me." His eyes fill with tears, "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve a happy ending." JJ is defeated and emotional.

Your heart aches at the fact JJ would ever think that way about himself. He'd already proven to be a better dad than Luke would ever be and your son wasn't even in this world yet. "Is that what Luke told you? That you're going to be a horrible dad?"

JJ wouldn't meet your eyes. You step forward, hands cupping his jawline, willing him to look at you, "JJ Maybank, you've already proven you will be an amazing dad and our baby isn't even earth side yet. Me and him both will never be better without you because you complete us, you make this family whole." Tears fill in your eyes, seeing his doing the same, "You never felt a father's love and that has been your encouragement from the beginning. You know exactly how to be a father because you have first hand of what not to do. You've stepped up and become more than a father than your own will ever be."

JJ relinquishes into you, sobs racked his body as he held onto you as if you were his lifeline.

"shhh..." You ran your fingers through his hair in a calming manner, holding him. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before you were able to lead him into the house where he passes out on the couch.

~

JJ sulks onto the front porch, his head pounding and body feeling like he was hit by a bus. You're leaned against railing, gazing out to the water. It was a calm morning.

"Morning," His voice is husky and he smells clean as he approaches you.

You glance at him, his hair is wet and he's in clean clothes. At least he showered. He reeked last night. "Morning."

"about last night-" He scratches the back of his neck. It had come back to him in pieces but he knew enough to know what happened last night - or well this morning.

"I'm only going to say this once." You're stern as you face him, "If you ever pull the shit you did last night, you won't have anyone to come home to. I'm here for you JJ, always. And you can't spiral like that ever again." You rub a hand over your bump, "Are we in an understanding?"

He nods, "I can't even begin to apologize or have the words. I should have come home to you two." He places an uneasy hand on your belly, "I'm not him. I never will be."

"I know you aren't." You loop your arms around his middle, laying your head against his chest, "You're more than he will ever be."

~

I hope you all enjoyed this part two and I hope I did it justice for those who asked for it! I feel like I'm still a little rusty as I get back into writing here and there, so please be nice and be patient.

Likes, comments and reblogs are always greatly appreciated!

[umathurwin]

i still keep your number and your necklace

kiara carrera x rafe cameron; nsfw 18+

summary: Rafe pays Kiara a little visit at the surf shop when she's alone. Surely he won't have any ulterior motives, right?

tags, warnings, and more on ao3 !

“what are you doing here?”

no greeting, no niceties, nothing. rafe hadn’t exactly caught her at a great time, given the screen of texts between kie and her boyfriend was just a sea of blue now. even without that, she probably still would’ve had an attitude.

“damn, kid, i can’t come to shop? i can’t be a paying customer?” he mocked, fiddling with the displays and knocking over a pack of neon lures. he ignored the mess.

kiara didn’t give him a response, and he conceded. “fine. just wanted to stop by and say hello, is all.”

“so say it. then leave.”

rafe hissed, like he’d just touched a hot stove. “sweetheart, what’d i do to deserve this treatment?” he asked, pouting at her and walking around the counter.

his cologne reached her first and she had to shut her eyes to keep focus. as he slotted himself behind her, surely towering over her frame, her fingers wrapped around the bone-handled damascus that john b had given her for protection against wacky customers. and what better time than now?

he’s a little too perceptive for her, though. “my god, drop the knife. i’m not here to hurt you.” when the blade clattered to the ground, he smiled. “actually, i’m here for the opposite.”

oh, great. not again.

of course this wasn’t the first time he was paying one of these little sick visits. actually, she’d noticed a bit of a pattern of her dating a new man, and rafe quickly showing up to re-stake his claim on her body.

the first few times, it had been a typical bedroom-window tryst with him climbing into her sheets and folding her legs up to her ears, her biting her fist and trying to remain quiet. later it evolved into him dragging her to the backseat of his car at events and him cracking jokes about how obvious what they were doing was, and how neither of them must care. now, apparently, he’s evolved to showing up at her place of business in broad daylight.

“rafe, you know i can’t—”

“can’t? bullshit. you sure can,” he barked out a laugh before mocking her again. “can’t. that’s funny. what’s stopping you, exactly? and don’t tell me that pissant blonde you’ve been running around with. do you always pick boyfriends whose asses you know i could beat? is there some kind of thrill behind it?”

kiara squeezed her eyes shut, fingertips digging into the pressboard surface of the counter. her body betrayed her, the same way it always did when rafe got his hands on her, and she keeled back into his touch. “rafe… c’mon.”

“what?” he snapped, holding her hips tighter and grinding against her. his cock slotted against her a little too well and she had to bite back a whimper. “you afraid someone’s gonna come lookin’ for us? don’t wanna get caught with your pants down?”

“yes! i mean, no!”

“don’t even know what you want. poor girl,” he tutted. rafe took one hand and drifted it up her side, catching on the bottom hem of her shirt and lifting it a bit before it fell. no chance he didn’t feel the goosebumps on her skin as he trailed up her arm to her shoulder.

there’s a quick moment of relief when she felt him step back and his presence was replaced by a wave of humid air. too bad this was because he’d decided to kneel down, perfectly settling where his face was at eye level with her ass.

she could feel her face burning as he inspected her, gripping the soft flesh and pushing his thumb hard on the denim seam resting above her slit. her legs were starting to buckle and her head fell into her hands ashamedly.

he tugged her shorts down, catching her underwear and pulling those down too. rafe smiled when he was greeted with the familiar sight of her sticky, wet cunt. “goddamn, kie. d’this start the second i walked in here?”

“no!” she whined, but it was less a response to his question and more of a protesting squeal when he buried his face into her pussy. he dragged his tongue along her folds, adding drool to the slick mess.

kiara gasped, and her fingernails caught on the rough surface under her. her back arched and she had to fight not to reach back and grab rafe’s head to guide him.

(not that he needed much guiding, anyways. he’s had his tongue buried in this cunt so many times he’s confident he could make her cum in his sleep.)

as he lapped at her clit, she dropped the hesitant act and grinded back against his face. rafe grabbed the back of her thighs and she could feel him smiling into her pussy. nasty.

his angle could be better. she began to lift her leg to give him more room, but her dignity had her dropping her foot to the ground again.

once again, too perceptive. he grabbed her calf roughly and lifted her entire leg until her knee could rest on the counter’s edge. if she’d been modest before, she couldn’t be anymore with her dripping cunt right on display for him.

no time to feel bad about this, because he dove right back into eating her cunt. one of his fingers trailed near her ass and she let out a weak noise, so he pulled back. he must be playing nice today.

it wasn’t until she was riding out a powerful orgasm on his tongue that she realized how lucky it was their shop had no cameras. it wasn’t the safest set-up, but at least she was in the clear still.

he tugged her back to the ground, making her stand on wobbly legs. as rafe’s cock pressed against her slit, the illumination of her phone screen caught her eye. jj had responded, finally.

oh, right! what she was currently doing was bad. “fuck, please hurry, you have to leave soon—” she mewled. as he pushed inside her, rafe’s thumbs spread her open so he could sheath himself even easier.

“jesus, quit whining, will ya? i just made you cum, now it’s my turn. shut up or i’ll fuck you right on this floor.”

he’d do it, too. he’d bully her to the ground until her palms and knees were slipping on the disgusting surface below them. he’d belittle her for how she was still enjoying the degradation. he might even grab the back of her hair and push her all the way down until her cheek grazes the floor, too. he’d do all this and so much more, so she shut up.

then he was fully nested inside her. like always, the clock slowed and blood rushed in her ears. relaxing enough to let him in was one thing, bracing herself for what came next was another.

“mm, fuck, you feel that? well… you’re pulsing around me, so i guess you do. isn’t that divine? yknow i’d stay in here all day if i could.” rafe withdrew about halfway, then slowly pushed back in to the hilt. “if you’d let me. i know you miss this. feeling so full,” he thrusted a bit, just to fit the last of himself inside her, and she cried out. “feels the same as the last time. which says a lot.” when a slutty moan spilled out of her, he knew he’d won. he pulled out again, but this was the end of his mercy.

the trinkets on the counter were rattling as he fucked her, and he wouldn’t allow her head to fall with a firm grip on her curls.

“how about i make a little deal with you?” he asked, forcing his cock in so far he nudged against her cervix.

kiara cried out and sucked in a gasp. “w-what?”

“if you don’t cum while i finish up here, i’ll never bother you again.”

too much logic, too little brains left in her skull. “you… you’ll wh—?”

“dumb girl,” he muttered and thrusted again. “i know you’re too drunk on my own cock to think, but try to follow along.” rafe slowed to a pace which tortured her, dragging along her walls enough to spark pleasure but not enough to build. “don’t cum, and i’ll leave you alone. got it?”

she nodded desperately, as best she could with him still holding her hair.

around this time, he’d get mouthy. rafe never could keep his thoughts to himself and the problem was tenfold when he was buried inside kiara. if it had come from anyone else’s mouth, his words would be pathetic, begging. but from him? he taunts.

when are you just gonna admit you need this, huh? i come back every time and you’re just as fuckin’ eager. it’s like you know i own you, but you can’t accept it. you know how good you’d look with me again? yknow how well i’d take care of you? be the prettiest fuckin’ girl on figure eight. it’s all yours, but you keep being a brat. good thing i’m always around to keep you in line, huh?

not this time. now, he was dead quiet, and the sick noises coming from where they met spoke for him. forced to accept the loud reality of what they were doing in the very place kiara would have to come back to every day.

without thinking, one of her hands tried to reach down to play with her clit, but he caught her wrist and twisted it around to pin behind her back. she was still stimulated, as every thrust of his cock sent his balls hitting against her clit. “good try,” was all he muttered.

tears welled up in her eyes when she realized she was going to cum anyways. he’d even tried to make it a fair fight by not touching her or saying anything. she was just a doll for him, one that bent over and spread her legs and moaned and begged for more. he didn’t even have to try, and she still tensed up and trembled as a second orgasm washed through her.

her legs nearly gave out entirely as she came, shaking and twitching under her. rafe’s possessive hold on her prevented her from collapsing to the filthy ground, and he smirked. “fuckin’ A. that’s a feeling i’ll never get tired of.”

she would die before ever admitting this, but she felt much of the same.

after he came, rafe lifted kiara so her feet were no longer on the ground, and her torso was entirely on the counter. he was careful in pulling out his cock, making sure none of his seed dripped out of her aching cunt. he quickly pulled her underwear and shorts back up, sealing in the mess they’d just made together.

“guess i’ll see you tonight, huh?”

[kezdispenser]

Breaking Character pt11/?

Summary: You are the new cast member of 'The Boys' and you play Butcher's cousin and Soldier Boy's new love interest 'Solene'. You're introduced to the cast by the director at a dinner and you're seated next to Karl and Jensen to "bond".

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Warnings: SMUT, language, fluff, 18+, KINKS

The living room was alive with laughter as the cast huddled around the coffee table, snacks strewn everywhere, and a heated game of Pictionary underway. Jack was furiously scribbling on the notepad, his tongue sticking out in concentration, while Erin and Antony shouted wildly incorrect guesses.

“Is it...a car?” Erin yelled.

Jack groaned. “Does this look like a car?!”

“Maybe a horse?” Antony guessed, squinting at the mess of lines on the paper.

“It’s obviously a toaster,” Karl said with a straight face, making the rest of us dissolve into giggles.

Jensen sat beside me on the couch, his arm slung comfortably around my shoulders. He was terrible at hiding his amusement, his chest rumbling with soft laughter. I leaned into him, feeling that warm, easy comfort that only he could provide.

“You’re not even trying to help,” he teased, nudging me gently.

“Because this is too much fun to watch,” I replied, grinning up at him.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered with a smirk, pressing a kiss to my temple.

The moment felt perfect. The room was filled with the kind of joy that made everything else fade away—the drama, the stress, all of it.

But then my mind wandered, unbidden, to a conversation Jensen and I had just days ago.

-

“I’m done, Jensen,” I had said, pacing the length of our hotel room.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me with a calm that only made my frustration grow. “Done with what?”

“My manager,” I snapped, spinning to face him. “I’m done with the constant criticism, the pressure, the...the bullshit.”

He stood and walked over to me, his hands resting gently on my shoulders. “You don’t have to put up with that, Y/N.”

“I know,” I said, my voice softening. “That’s why I’m firing him.”

Jensen’s lips quirked into a small, proud smile. “About damn time.”

“I just...” I hesitated, glancing down. “What if it backfires? What if—”

“No.” His voice was firm, cutting through my doubts. “You’re not doing anything wrong. If someone in your corner isn’t supporting you, they don’t deserve to be there. Period.”

I exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of his words settle over me. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Because it is,” he said, cupping my face in his hands. “You deserve better, and if firing that asshole is what it takes, then do it. I’ll be here no matter what.”

-

“Earth to Y/N!” Erin’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

“Huh?” I blinked, realizing everyone was staring at me.

“It’s your turn!” she said, holding out the notepad and pen.

Jensen chuckled, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Good luck, sweetheart.”

I groaned but took the pen, determined to draw something only slightly better than Jack’s unrecognizable toaster—or horse, or whatever it was.

The night carried on in the same playful, lighthearted spirit, the memory of my decision to fire my manager leaving me with a quiet sense of empowerment. For the first time in a long time, I felt free.

The house was still and quiet as we stepped inside, the only sound the faint click of the door locking behind us. Jensen turned to look at me, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tossed his keys onto the counter, his movements unhurried but deliberate.

“Feels weird without the kids here, huh?” I said, kicking off my shoes and letting out a long sigh as I sank onto the couch.

“A little,” he admitted, his voice low and easy, “but I’m not complaining.”

He crossed the room toward me, his strides purposeful. His eyes had that familiar gleam, the one that always made my heart race. When he reached me, he crouched in front of the couch, his hands resting on my knees.

“You’re too far away,” he murmured, his voice tinged with mischief.

“I’m right here,” I replied, trying to keep my tone steady, but his touch had me unraveling already.

“Not close enough,” he countered, slipping his hands under mine and tugging me gently forward until I was perched on the edge of the couch, our faces just inches apart.

He kissed me then, slow and deep, one hand sliding to the back of my neck while the other rested on my thigh. There was nothing hurried about it—just the deliberate, intoxicating way he always made me feel like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my skin. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

I laughed softly, my hands curling into the front of his shirt. “You’ve mentioned it a few times.”

“I don’t say it enough,” he said, his tone turning serious as his fingers traced idle patterns on my leg. “You’re everything to me.”

The intensity in his words had my chest tightening, my throat threatening to close up with the weight of emotion.

“Jensen…” I started, but his name barely made it past my lips before his hands began to wander.

Jensen leaned back, his arm draped casually over the back of the couch, but his eyes were anything but casual. They were filled with a mix of desire and mischief as he watched you, his gaze lingering on your chest.

“You know,” he said, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, “I’ve always had a thing for… well, let’s just say I appreciate a good pair.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile forming on your lips. “Is that so? What do you appreciate about them?”

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. “Everything. The way they look, the way they feel… and the way they drive me absolutely wild.”

You felt a rush of heat at his words, your heart racing. “Maybe I should give you a better view then,” you suggested, your voice playful yet inviting.

Jensen’s eyes darkened with desire as you slowly lifted your shirt, revealing your bare skin. His breath hitched, and you could see the hunger in his gaze as he took in the sight of you.

“Damn,” he breathed, his voice thick with lust. “You’re stunning.”

He shifted closer, his hands finding your waist, fingers brushing against your skin as he pulled you toward him. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and it sent shivers down your spine.

“Can I?” he asked, his eyes flicking to your chest, a mix of eagerness and respect in his gaze.

“Please,” you whispered, your heart racing with anticipation.

With a swift motion, he leaned down, his mouth capturing one of your breasts. His tongue swirled around your nipple, and a moan escaped your lips as pleasure coursed through you. Jensen’s hands roamed, squeezing and kneading your other breast, his touch firm yet gentle.

“God, you’re perfect,” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as he lavished attention on you. The world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you in this moment of pure bliss.

“Jensen,” you gasped, the sensation overwhelming. “I need more.”

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with lust. “You got it, babe.”

With that, he shifted, positioning you so that you were lying back against the couch, your body arching toward him. He took a moment to admire you, his gaze filled with hunger. Then, he leaned down, his mouth finding yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within you that you never wanted to extinguish.

As he kissed you, his hands continued to explore, tracing the curves of your body, his fingers brushing against your breasts, teasing and tantalizing. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, and you wanted nothing more than to feel him closer.

“Jensen,” you breathed, your voice a mix of urgency and desire. “I want you.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, your heart racing. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

With a wicked grin, he leaned back down, his mouth capturing your breast once more, his tongue flicking and teasing as he lost himself in the moment. You could feel the heat building between you, the world outside forgotten as you surrendered to the pleasure he was giving you.

Jensen’s mouth moved with a fervor that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. He lavished attention on your breasts, his tongue swirling and teasing, while his hands explored the curves of your body. You could feel the heat pooling in your core, a desperate need building within you.

“Jensen,” you gasped, arching your back as he took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently. “I need you… please.”

He pulled back, his eyes dark with desire, a smirk playing on his lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “You’re driving me insane.”

With that, he shifted his position, kneeling on the couch beside you. He took a moment to admire you, his gaze roaming over your body, drinking in every curve. You felt exposed yet empowered under his scrutiny, the heat of his gaze igniting a fire within you.

“Let me show you just how much I appreciate you,” he said, his voice thick with lust.

He leaned down, his mouth trailing kisses down your stomach, his hands gripping your thighs as he pushed them apart. You gasped, your breath hitching in your throat as he settled between your legs, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Jensen,” you breathed, your heart racing with anticipation.

He didn’t respond with words; instead, he leaned in, his mouth finding the sensitive skin between your thighs. A moan escaped your lips as his tongue flicked against you, teasing and exploring. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

“God, you taste amazing,” he murmured against you, his breath hot against your skin.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, urging him closer as he continued to work his magic. He was relentless, his tongue swirling and teasing, driving you closer to the edge. You could feel the heat building, the pressure mounting as he expertly brought you closer and closer to the brink.

“Jensen, I’m so close,” you gasped, your body trembling with need.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “I want to feel you come for me,” he said, his voice low and sultry.

With renewed vigor, he focused on your clit, his tongue flicking and teasing in a way that sent you spiraling over the edge. You cried out, your body arching as waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and trembling.

As you came down from your high, Jensen crawled back up your body, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips, and it only fueled the fire within you.

“Now, it’s my turn,” he said, his voice thick with desire as he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head to reveal his chiseled chest. You couldn’t help but admire him, your hands roaming over his body, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingertips.

He leaned down, capturing your lips once more, his hands gripping your waist as he positioned himself between your legs. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension building as he pressed against you.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low and filled with need.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yes, Jensen. I want you.”

With a primal growl, he pushed inside you, filling you completely. A moan escaped your lips as you felt him stretch you, the sensation overwhelming. He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, his eyes locked onto yours.

“God, you feel incredible,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

He began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, but the urgency quickly built as he lost himself in the moment. You could feel every inch of him, the heat and intensity building with each thrust.

“Jensen,” you gasped, your nails digging into his back as he picked up the pace. “Harder… please.”

He obliged, his thrusts becoming more frantic, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. You could feel the heat pooling in your core once more, the pressure building as he drove you closer to the edge.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his breath hot against your ear. “I want to feel you come around me.”

With a final thrust, you felt the wave of pleasure crash over you, your body trembling as you cried out his name. Jensen followed closely behind, his thrusts becoming erratic as he found his release, filling you completely.

As you both came down from your highs, he collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms. You could feel the warmth radiating from him, the afterglow wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

“Damn,” he said, satisfied.

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

A/N: Hey you guys, I'm back, I hope you guys had fun during the holidays, idk if I'm back to posting regularly but I can try.

@justwhisperingfantasies @impala67rollingthroughtown @deansimpalababy @jackles010378 @winchester @barnes70stark @nancymcl @oceean @spnaquakindgdom @ladysparkles78 @sexyvixen7 @spxideyver @stoneyggirl2 @star-yawnznn @quietgirll75 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

[tartarusknight]

Eddie Joins the Family

Eddie didn’t think that he would get a big family when he pulled Dustin, Mike, and Lucas into Hellfire. He didn’t think it would happen but it did. One day, after school he’s stopped short at the sound of his name. He stopped and glanced back to see a redheaded girl. She looked familiar but he couldn’t place her. She had a skateboard under her arm and a determined look on her face. “You’re Eddie Munson right?”

Eddie frowned, “I don’t sell to kids.”

Her nose wrinkled, “ew. I’m Max, Lucas’s girl- we’re friends.” She stumbles a little and his eyebrow raised. 

She rolled her shoulders back, “can you give me a ride home? I missed the bus and we’re neighbors. I can give you embarrassing stories of any of the boys,” she waves her hand but he can see her nerves. 

“Sure,” he shrugged and she brightened. However, she was definitely trying to hide her emotions. “Our chariot awaits, milady.” He opened the door for her a swept his hand towards his shitty van. However, it didn’t stop there. Suddenly he was driving her more and more. Even though she didn’t even join his club! Okay, but she was quickly becoming one of his favorite freshman anyways. 

But Max wasn’t the only one. One day he ran into Nancy Wheeler and she actually stopped him. “Eddie, right?” Her eyes were hard and he shifted nervously. He gave her a small nod and she cleared her throat. “Mike’s really looking up to you lately.”

Eddie grimaced, “he could’ve picked someone better.”

She nods in agreement which stings only a little. He knew it was true. “You’re going to meet me twice a week. Give me your schedule.” She ordered and he stood there dumbfounded. “It wasn’t an option, come on.” She waved her hand. 

So he took a moment and wrote it all down before handing it over. She frowned, maybe at his shitty hand writing or the way it was kind of jumbled. “We have study hall the same hour. I’ll get a pass and I’ll meet you.”

“Uh, why?”

Her glare was terrifying, “because if he’s going to look up to you than you can give him a good example. I’m not going to let you keep failing all your classes and show him what it’s okay.” She snapped and Eddie wasn’t sure if he’s ever been this shocked before. “Understand?”

“Aye, aye, captain.” He gave her a weak salute before she turned and walked off. 

Then suddenly he and Nancy were working together often and in the few classes they shared she offered to be paired with him. It was freaky and his friends were just as weirded out as he was. But he had to admit that as they met after school a few times, that maybe, just maybe they were becoming friends. It wasn’t confirmed until one day she was painting his nails as he rambled about an idea he had for a campaign. Except she wasn’t just listening, she was giving him tips and helping him develop it even better. 

And with Nancy came Karen Wheeler. The woman would give him baked goods and thank him for all he was doing with Mike. It was weird but she made amazing cookies so he dealt with it and fucking Ted who didn’t deserve Karen. However, it got even worse when he made a comment that he mostly cooked for himself and his uncle since Wayne worked the worst hours. That had him in the kitchen with Sue Sinclair, Claudia Henderson, and you guessed it, Karen Wheeler. 

The three moms taught him all their tips and tricks, telling him he could impress any girl with his new skills. He didn’t say he wasn’t interested in any girls. Instead, he grinned and took all the information he could. It became a weekly thing and he got all the good gossip that wasn’t high school bullshit. And he gave them all the high school bullshit they wanted. 

And suddenly he became a babysitter for his younger friends. The freshman were annoyed at the development and Eddie got paid to hang out with them so he was fine with it. It didn’t happen often, since apparently Eddie was the back up babysitter. He didn’t care... that much, he was just curious. But being the back up babysitter gave him Erica Sinclair who quickly became his arch enemy and favorite. They didn’t do much but when he was in charge of her they would argue back and forth before retiring to painting mini figures with music playing in the background. 

However, that wasn’t even the end of it. Because suddenly Dustin was introducing him to Robin Buckley. Apparently Dustin had been trying to get her and their friend together but since they didn’t seem to get their act together, Dustin believed him and Robin would work together. Eddie and Robin took one look at each other and saw the fruitiness of the other. Which gave him a friend to talk about all the shit he dealt with that no one else did. No one else but Robin. 

Robin was a beauty and became one of his closest friends. They often spent time at his trailer and she started eating lunch with him and Hellfire. Of course Dustin was being a little bitch about it but Eddie and Robin claimed their were completely platonic. Which had the young members echoing, “with a capital P.” 

That one comment brought in the last of the party that remained in Hawkins, Steve Harrington. Steve was someone he knew from school but this Steve wasn’t what he expected. The first interaction after all the bragging the rest of the party did for him didn’t match up with his old vision. Eddie was leaving Hellfire and noticed Robin standing next to the man, waiting for the kids. “Eddie!” Robin waved like he wasn’t walking towards her already. 

He grinned, ��hey Buckley, fancy meeting you here.” Then he glanced over at Steve and god dammit, he was still as pretty as he had been back in high school. 

“Harrington,” he drawled and watched Steve’s face grow pink. Which was curious...

Steve smiled and it wasn’t a smile Eddie had seen on him before, not really. This looked completely real and a little dopey. “Hey, Munson, I heard I’m missing out on the Munson friendship train.” He tilted his head a little and his hair flopped. The kids were already getting into Steve’s car but neither Steve nor Robin looked to be in a rush to leave. 

Eddie laughed a little awkwardly, “Yeah man. You don’t know what you’re missing.” He waved at himself and watched Steve’s eyes drop to follow his hands up and down his body. Which was... it was... Eddie didn’t really understand what he was feeling. 

He cleared his throat, “welp, enjoy driving these gremlins home.” He waved at the back seat. However, when he looked at Steve the dude look upset at the idea. Which was weird because he’s been told over and over how much Steve loved the kids. He waved and jogged off to avoid anymore of that. 

But that wasn’t the last he saw Steve. No, in fact, suddenly Steve always picked them up. Nancy no longer took time out of her schedule nor did any of the parents. And when Eddie went to his weekly dinner session with the moms they all laughed and said Steve was a good babysitter, always so caring about their time and kids. 

And well... Eddie didn’t hate it. Not one bit as Steve got there about 30 minutes early each time and watched the end of the session. Then he’d help Eddie clean up and they’d talk until they parted ways. Some times Robin was with him and most of those nights they’d meet him at the trailer after dropping the kids off with a movie for the three of them. Except soon, Steve would stop with or without Robin. 

Eddie loved and hated his time with Steve. Because the more time they saw each other, the more Eddie fell for the straight boy. He was done falling for straight boys so it pissed him off. But it didn’t stop him from putting his legs in Steve’s lap during a movie. Or letting Steve play with his hair. Or letting Steve kiss-

Okay the kissing was knew. And Eddie wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Not when during Grease Steve got up from the couch to sing and dance along. Eddie had laughed and when he was pulled to his feet, he stumbled into Steve’s chest. It was just the two of them but even if they had been in a crowded room, Eddie was sure the only thing he would’ve seen would’ve been Steve. 

Steve had cupped his face and smiled, “You’re the one that I want, o o oo honey. The one I need,” Steve had sung so soft and Eddie blinked at him, shocked. “Eddie,” Steve whispered as he leaned in closer. “Can I kiss you?” Eddie had made some noise that he’ll never claim and nodded frantically. Steve kissed like it was a sport that he never got less than gold in. Eddie pressed in and they moved in sync. 

And when they dropped next to each other in Eddie’s bed. Eddie didn’t think Steve might be as straight as he previously thought. “You know,” Steve started after they both regained their breath. “All I heard for weeks was Eddie this, Eddie that. Suddenly even the moms were in love with you. And it was so god damn annoying. Cause I knew they were all right. I remembered you from school, how free and open you were. When Dustin and the others mentioned you befriending them I knew they’d be okay. But I was jealous.”

Eddie looked over at him, “You were jealous? Of me?”

Steve snorted and Eddie didn’t think it was fair that even that was endearing. “Of you, of them. I don’t know... but I saw my shot and I took it.” He shrugged and Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Dude, you were like my gay awakening! I serious!” Steve had a big smile on his face and Eddie grinned back. 

“Really? Little ol’ Eddie Munson was King Steve’s awakening?”

Steve smacked him and rolled so he leaned over Eddie, “yeah. You were.”

They grinned at each other, “so you were checking me out when you first picked up the kids.”

“Hell yeah I was,” Steve winked and it was so dorky. He was flushed pink but still trying to stay confident. “To be honest, I lied when we started talking.” Eddie raised an eyebrow, insincerity rising up in him. But then Steve flushed more, “I didn’t want to join the Munson friendship train. I wanted to see what you’d be like as my boyfriend.” Steve wiggled his eyebrows and Eddie couldn’t stop the laugh.

“Yeah?” He flipped them so he was on top of Steve. Steve looked pleased as he did so. “Get ready, big boy. I’ll show you what you’re missing.” He promised and kissed him just because he could. 

Steve broke it though, “so, you, Eddie Munson agree to go on a date with me?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “yes. I Eddie Munson, will date you, Steve Harrington. You can pick me up tomorrow at 7.”

And Eddie would swear that Steve’s eyes fucking twinkled. “It’s a date.”

So, yeah bringing Dustin, Lucas, and Mike into Hellfire was one of the best decisions he’s ever made. Maybe one day he’ll thank them for giving him the best year he’s ever had. 

[eddies-puppet]

You Gave Me Our World

(Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Just a little Valentines blurb to try and get myself writing again 💜

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff with a decent serving of angst. No REAL smut but allusions to it. Mentions of Eddie’s mom, Eddie being insecure.

Notes: Sorry if this sucks, just trying to get rid of my writers block!

———————————————————

Heaven. That’s where I am right now.

Wrapped in my boyfriend’s arms, bodies tangled between the bedsheets as the rain pattered lightly on the roof of the trailer where Eddie and I live together. My head lay on his chest, his heart beating hard against my ear as he came back down to earth after the throes of ecstacy we’d both been in a few moments ago. The arm that wasn’t around me was bent up beneath his head.

“You still with me baby?” Eddie asked softly, his fingertips dragging lightly against the soft skin of my back.

“Mmm, still here,” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper as I trailed my nails gently across his tummy, smiling as I felt his muscles react involuntarily. It was his most ticklish spot.

Sighing deeply, I pressed a soft kiss to his tattooed chest. “Can we stay here forever?”

“That sounds really good,” he chuckled.

I closed my eyes, the sound of his heart beating steadily soothing me, sleep trying (unsuccessfully) to overwhelm me.

Life had gotten real busy lately, meaning that I valued these moments so much more. The moments of quiet, when it’s just the two if us, the noise of the outside world just fading away.

Just us. Me and him. All I needed in life.

When Eddie and I had first got together, everyone told me to run. That trouble followed him, that he wasn’t the ‘type of boy’ I should be with.

But I knew the other side of Eddie Munson. Kind, goofy, made me laugh until I cried. That was my Eddie.

His hand had worked its way up my back, now gently running his fingers through my hair. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. I’m sure there were probably hearts in my eyes if you looked hard enough!

He was miles away though, deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked him. His eyes dropped to mine, the sadness in his eyes evident despite the darkness of the room. “Eds, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing baby, I’m good,” he smiled unconvincingly.

“Don’t try and bullshit me Munson, I know you better than that.” He sighed heavily, his eyes going back to the ceiling.

“I don’t know, I just…” he hesitated. “You deserve better.”

“Better than what?” I asked him, my voice unable to hide the concern.

“This,” he said frustratedly, the hand that had been behind his head now gesturing wildly around the room. “It’s Valentine’s Day for fuck sake! You should be at that new expensive hotel in the city, or Enzos at the very least. Instead you’re eating takeout pizza under two blankets ‘cos we can’t afford extra on the utilities!”

“Hey, the sex warmed me up at least,” I giggled, regretting it instantly when his sad eyes met mine once again. “I’m sorry, I’m kidding,” I whispered, my hand moving to his face. “Eddie, I don’t give a shit about expensive dinners, or how many blankets we have to use,” I promised him, his breath shaking as he exhaled, my thumb gently stroked his cheek.

“Baby, this isn’t the life you were born in to. You should be living in a big house, with a white picket fence and a swing on the porch.”

“You’re right, it’s not the life I was born in to. But it’s the life I chose,” I assured him. “Eds, I know you sometimes find it hard to believe, but I love you. The rest of it doesn’t matter. It’s all just background noise.”

I propped myself up on my elbow, looking down at him, his dark eyes sparkling, his dark curls fanning out across the pillow. “Look at you,” I whispered. “Beautiful.”

In spite of himself, he smiled back at me.

I leant down, my fingers burying themselves in his hair as our lips met. I kissed him gently, his breath tickling my cheek as he slowly exhaled through his nose.

“I love you. So much,” I told him again, resting my forehead against his.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “I just wish I could give you the world.”

“You’ve given me our world, that’s all I need,” I smiled before laying back down.

As I snuggled back in to his chest, I reached for his hand, which was laying on his stomach. As my fingers traced the veins on his hand, the cold metal of his ring caught me off guard.

You would think with them being worn all the time they would warm up. Perhaps it was just the stark contrast from his hot skin.

Eddie Munson was always warm, even in the middle of a snowstorm. He was great to be around in the winter, stifling in the heat of the Indiana summer.

My fingers played absentmindedly with the cold metal, the large black stone smooth to touch as I lost myself in his warmth, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the gentleness of his other hand soothing up and down my back.

He rolled over to face me, his arms encircling me, pulling me flush against him.

“There is one thing that I can give you,” he said softly. “That I want to give you.”

I could feel his hands fidgeting behind my back, not unusual for Eddie, but when he bought his hand between us and opened his hand, he held his ring. The same one I had been playing with a few moments ago. The one that had belonged to his mother before she died.

I shook my head as he held it out to me.

“I can’t take that,” I whispered.

“I want you to have it,” he said insistently.

I hesitated, freezing in place, my head empty. I obviously paused for too long.

“She’d have loved you, you know,” he smiled, his eyes glistening suddenly with unshed tears.

“Baby, I cannot take this. It means too much to you.”

“So do you,” he smiled. “Look, are you planning on running out on me?” He beamed, the deep dimples appearing on his cheeks making you smile again.

“No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” I grinned, biting at the inside of my cheek.

“Then you’re not taking it. Look at it as a loaner until Corroded Coffin hit the big time and I can afford to replace it with a diamond the size of Hawkins,” he laughed as he took my hand and gently slid the ring on to my finger.

“See?” He grinned as he looked at my hand. “Fits you better than me anyway.” He lifted my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss where his ring now sat.

“I guess you’re right, it is a perfect fit.”

“I have something else that fits you perfectly,” he grinned cheekily, rolling his hips against me.

“Really?” I laughed. “Already?” He nodded eagerly, raising his eyebrows suggestively before burying his face in my neck.

“Not for fun obviously, I’m just getting cold,” he said between kisses, his lips dragging against my skin. “Unless you want me to just go get an extra blanket?” He added quietly, just before his teeth nipped at the spot below my ear that he knew always drove me crazy.

“Don’t you fucking dare go anywhere,” I giggled, throwing my leg over his hip and pulling him on top of me. No way was I letting him go tonight.

[rainy-writers]

poor pitiful greens, who would’ve been slaughtered had Rhaenyra taken the throne. They had every right to usurp her because obviously they and their children deserve to live…obviously they deserve to live more than Jace, Luke, little Joffery, Aegon, Viserys, Baela and Rhaena who also would’ve been slaughtered had the Greens succeeded, right?

It kills me when people say that the greens would have been slaughtered had Rhaenyra taken the throne because they were too much of a challenge and use that to justify usurping her. Like you do realize…if they’re a challenge to Rhaenyra and her kids then it’s vice versa? If they can’t live while Rhaenyra reigns then that means Rhaenyra’s kids can’t either. But apparently it’s okay for Jace, Luke, Joffery, Viserys, Aegon, Baela and Rhaena to die if it means your favs get to win. All of a sudden, you’re okay with children dying if it means a man can now rule Westeros. A woman and her innocent children dying is okay to you because what? It’s “normal for a woman to rule?” Aegon should be King because…he’s a man? Because Viserys spent years advocating for him, right? Because this rapist, abuser piece of shit and his psychotic brothers who burned millions and allowed for the rape of little girls are somehow better than their sister who only raised taxes?

Alicent can fear for her children’s lives against the woman who’d never even think about harming them, but Rhaenyra can’t fear for her kids—who Alicent literally tried to get executed for years?

And don’t give that bullshit: the Greens would never!

Uh, canonically, they did! Unprovoked! Before they even got the fucking throne! They did it with Rhaenys and Luke—who, no matter much you call him Strong, is still related to them from Rhaenyra. Team Green has personally harmed their own family, their own blood in broad daylight and have celebrated doing so, so what makes you think they’d spare the rest? What honestly makes you think they’d let them live? Luke was a child, so no, even the children wouldn’t be spared.

Alicent has spent over twenty years fear mongering and terrorizing her own children to the point where it just could not happen. They would execute every single one of the Team Black kids down to Visenya if she had lived.

Yes they would’ve killed two year old little Aegon and Viserys and they’d have been happy to do it. Lest we not forget these are the same people who threw a party, canonically, when Luke was killed so…yeah. Aemond and Daeron probably would’ve forcibly married Baela and Rhaena and raped them…But that’s okay to you people, right? Because at least it isn’t happening to the fucking misogynist Greens who didn’t deserve the throne anyways.

The difference between them and Rhaenyra is that she has never given any indications that she thinks Kinslaying is right. Book or show, Rhaenyra understands the weight of such titles and what it would mean. She understands it would forever stain the name Targaryen if she killed not one, but SIX members of her own family. Obviously it’s this fucking Rhaneyra that would’ve killed them all though, right? It’s Rhaenyra, and not the Greens or her idiot brothers who canonically been classified as Kinslayers and usurpers, who would not have let TG live.

Book or show, you cannot even argue that they’re not Kinslayers because hopefully even TG stans aren’t so delusional to outright deny what we’ve seen. Which means that YES, they would’ve killed all those kids and then used their big scary dragons to terrorize anyone who didn’t agree—as they did the exact same media you’re seeing them in.

In the same book or show, nothing ever indicates that Rhaenyra would kill them. In fact, she actively gives them a chance to bend the knee after they kill her son, and furthermore, she does not spend years terrorizing her children with the idea they’ll be slaughtered so they have to kill the other side, even the children, because if not they’ll do the same to them.

The only difference in this scenario is that the people who raised the TB kids would have spared the Greens, while the people who have been raised to be hateful and spiteful against even the innocent people in their family would’ve given the TB kid’s death not second thought.

You guys simply don’t understand the tabooness of Kinslaying, and it’s becoming a popular trend that people think you can just get away with it and nothing will happen. You cannot just go around killing people of your own fucking family with no consequences. No matter how delusional you and Alicent might be, it cannot happen without major consequences. It’s the main reason majority of Westeros DID NOT support the greens bc it’s an AWFUL thing to do. There is nothing worse to the people of Westeros than a Kinslayer, not even a rapist. It is the ultimate crime to commit and it shows your lack of understanding of this world if you think Rhaenyra would just do this. Even if you don’t like her, her character was described as someone that would NEVER.

Meanwhile, you know who went down in history for doing this? Not once but twice? And one of those was a child? You know who still fucking did and was willing to keep doing it until an entire side of their family was wiped out?

The Greens.

The difference between them and Team Black is that TG spent twenty years harboring hate for a woman and her kids who did not even give them a second thought. It’s almost laughable how unimportant they were to Rhaenyra until the day they killed her son. The day Aemond killed Luke and Aegon threw a feast to celebrate the worst crime imaginable to a Kingdom he was supposed to rule, is the day you should’ve realized how different and how much more deserving Rhaenyra Targaryen is compared to her monster brothers.

I do not fucking care that Alicent was young and dumb and manipulated once. The women who poisoned her own children, the woman who was willing to kill a fucking newborn and said I quote,

“I hope the whore dies in childbirth.” Was a grown ass adult and would not show an inch of mercy. Even show!Alicent would have no choice, because it was her idiot planning that put her psychopath of a son in the ultimate position of power so she couldn’t even stop it if she tried.

So tell me, what makes you think Helaena, Aemond, Aegon (who were all adults during the dance, mind you), Jaehaera, Maelor, and Jaehaerys deserve to live more than Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Baela, Rhaena, Aegon, Viserys, Visenya (possibly), or anyone that stood as a threat to Aegon’s reign?

Surely you can’t say it’s because Jaehaera, Maelor, and Jaehaerys are just children.

You root for the one Team whose succession will end up with them all dead, as canonically it did, instead of the woman that would’ve spared them. Book or show, there’s never any evidence she would harm them unlike the literal people you root for. There’s only one scenario where everyone lives and it’s when Rhaenyra Targaryen sit the throne. Because we’ve seen how well it turned out for those kids and everyone when she was usurped, so rooting for Team Green bc you want to ‘spare the children’ is a contradiction in itself.

Or, just say you’re a misogynistic asshole like we already know and be done with it.

[wooataes]

Real Eyes, Fake Lies (Part Nine)

Pairing: soulmate!Lee Jihoon x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.2K

Warnings: Hanahaki!au, angst, alcohol consumption, swearing, jihoon has a panic attack, tears, nothing else too drastic this chapter 🙏🏼

Summary: What do you do when you find out the one person that was created by the universe to be yours doesn’t want you back?

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS, DEAR READERS! Omg it’s been so long and I apologize for that! Hopefully this can tie yall over into the new year! 🥰 I hope you all got spoilt over the holiday period and enjoy this new chapter! 🫶🏼 ALSO shoutout to my girl Wei for pretty much cowriting this chapter with me 💜

- Tae 💜🌸

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“It’s you, isn’t it?”

Jihoon stares at your brother’s soulmate with wide eyes.

“Is what me?”

“Don’t bullshit me, Lee.” Jeonghan frowns, arms crossed tight across his chest. “Y/N. Are you her soulmate or not?”

Jihoon’s heart skips a beat as he pauses.

“What makes you think that?”

Jeonghan notes his avoidance of the question. “It all adds up a little too well. She found her soulmate the day you were supposed to walk her home. She avoids you like the plague unless she has to be near you. She can barely look in your direction but you stare at her like a lost puppy. I see you smiling about her when you think no one is looking. But… you have Ji-ah.” Your soulmate grimaces. “And knowing my Ladybug, which I do, she would never want to separate a couple if she can help it. She’s too selfless for that. She would give her worst enemy the shirt off her back if she thought it would help.” Jeonghan’s eyes look glazed over, tears filling them. “All of the evidence I’ve seen concludes that you’re her soulmate and she is tearing herself apart to keep you happy.”

“How do you know she is hurting?”

“She is drinking.” Jeonghan mutters. “She only ever drinks if she’s really upset about something. This is the only thing I can chalk it up to. Am I correct?”

“No. You’re wrong.” Jihoon lies through his teeth.

“I hope I am.” Jeonghan retorts quickly. “Because what I’ve heard from Soonyoung about you, you’re a great person.” Your soulmate winces as he feels the guilt seep in again. “I know someone wouldn’t willingly do this to someone as sweet as her.”

“You don’t know me.” Jihoon’s voice is small.

“You’re right. I don’t.” He agrees. “Look, I don’t care if you are or if you’re not. All I care about is that girl back there. If you are her soulmate, you need to stop giving her goo-goo eyes while you’re with another girl and giving her false hope. You need to cut the tether. Let the girl heal in her own way because you two being around each other is giving her hope of a relationship that will never happen.”

“You don’t think I’ve tried that?” He hisses. “I have tried to fucking avoid her and let her heal and let her forget about me!” There are tears in his eyes now.

“If I could change how it turned out, I would. I’m her fucking project partner and her best friend is my best friend. This stupid invisible force keeps drawing me to her and I’m hating it.” His words keep spilling out, the tears beginning to fall.

“I feel her cry every fucking night and I can’t do anything about it and help her without hurting someone else! And the worst part is that still despite everything, she hasn’t told anyone because she doesn’t want anything bad to happen to me! I don’t deserve her! I want to stop her suffering and leave her alone but I can’t! What am I supposed to fucking do?!”

Jeonghan sighs and stares at your soulmate in tears before him. “Is it stupid to say follow your heart?”

“Yes.”

He chuckles. “Then I say make your choice and make it quickly. I can’t stand to see that kid go through any more pain than what she has been through, you better be fast.” Jihoon winces as he watches Jeonghan turn around and begin to walk away. “Jihoon-ssi, Consider yourself lucky that it was me that noticed and not her brother. If it was him, you’d be dead where you stand. Do you understand?”

“Yeah.” Jihoon whispers, running his fingers through his hair slowly.

“Good. I hope I don’t have to tell you to stop hurting her again.”

Jihoon stares up at the starry sky as Jeonghan makes his way back to the campsite, tears still falling down his cheeks. His mind is running a mile a minute, his lungs squeezing as he tries to control his breathing.

What the fuck is he going to do?

It takes Jihoon another 20 minutes before he makes his way back to the group, his brain just as jumbled as it was before. He is no closer to a solution than he was before being confronted by Jeonghan, and he is sure he isn’t going to have it by the end of the night. He looks to the picnic table first, looking to see you still wedged between Jisoo and Seungcheol, sipping from your third bottle of soju. Your eyes are glazed over as you lean quietly into Jisoo’s side, a dopey smile on your face as you laugh at Soonyoung. Jisoo’s arm is kept tightly around you, rubbing your arm soothingly as Seungcheol speaks in hushed whispers with his soulmate.

Jeonghan’s words have planted a seed of worry in Jihoon’s brain as he spots Seokmin watch his soulmate with adoring eyes, who is currently fawning over you. He really should figure out what to do with his fucked up situation, but for now, he makes his way to his housemates and his not-soulmate. He plants himself down in the camping chair next to Ji-ah, who doesn’t seem to notice his arrival. Instead, she is staring at her phone with a little smile forming on her face.

“Did your sister send you some dress ideas, babe?” Jihoon asks, the pet name leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

His presence startles Ji-ah, yelping and almost dropping her phone. “Huh?”

“I just asked if that was your sister.”

“O-oh.” She laughed, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Uhh.. yeah, just talking about cake flavor ideas.” She shoves her phone quickly into her pocket before he can see, cheeks flushed. Jihoon simply hums and nods as he leans forward slightly to listen in on Mingyu and Wonwoo’s conversation.

“No~!” Jihoon hears you whining as Seungkwan takes Seungcheol’s spot beside you. “I want it, Boo.” You jutt your bottom lip out as Seungkwan holds the bottle of soju above your head.

“Ah-ah. No.” His voice is firm. “That is bottle number three when you have had no food in you. It’s time to eat.”

“Why?” You sigh dramatically.

“Because you’re going to get alcohol poisoning.” Jisoo tries to encourage you.

“Maybe I want to get blackout drunk.” You huff.

“Maybe,” Seungcheol agrees with you, leaning against Seungkwan’s back as he held the alcohol high above your reach. “But in this family, we drink responsibly. You will get this back when you eat at least one bowl of rice and some meat.”

“Come on, you,” Soonyoung sits atop the table in front of you, holding the chopsticks full of food towards you. “One bite at a time.”

“No.” You grumble, turning your head away from him.

“If you eat, you get the soju back, Goober.” Jisoo encourages beside you, still rubbing at your arm as you look up at him. Your frown is still visible as he smiles down to you, nodding eagerly. After a long sigh, you open your mouth obediently as Soonyoung puts the awaiting food into your mouth.

“There we go!” Seokmin grins and claps happily at you.

“Good girl.” Jisoo praises, and your cheeks turn red as a small smile forms on your lips, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by your soulmate.

Soonyoung wordlessly offers more food to you, which you take eagerly with Jisoo’s praises, but Jihoon can’t help but stare at your blushing cheeks and dazed smile at your brother's friend with each bite. For the upteenth time that night, Jihoon pushes down the uncomfortable feeling that settles in his stomach as he tries to remember Jeonghan’s words to tell him to move on from you.

Within five minutes, almost the whole plate is finished by you, your rosy cheeks puffed up as you look hopefully to Seungkwan. “I did good?”

“Hmm~” he hums appreciatively. “You sure did.” He grins, patting your head sweetly as he passes the soju to Jisoo.

“Now, you can have this back, but you gotta be good and drink slowly. Okay, Goober?”

“Yes, Shua-‘ppa.” You chirp through your last mouthful of food, and giggle gleefully as he passes the alcohol to you.

Jihoon purposely attempts to keep his back to you to avoid the temptation to keep an eye on you. You’re clearly tipsy at best, and too many nights of handling a drunk, clingy Mingyu have conditioned him to want to try and keep an eye on you to see if you’ll be just as destructive as your friend.

To his surprise though, for the rest of the night you stay by Jisoo’s side, nestled delicately against him. Jisoo doesn’t mind, on the contrary, he has kept up his conversations with the others well as his arm absentmindedly keeps you close, stroking your shoulder as he talks. You stay happily curled up, fiddling with a box of beads and string that Jisoo has brought for the trip, making bracelets as you hum drunkenly to yourself.

“Hyung,” Mingyu is whispering to your brother, standing by the fire near Jihoon’s seat, who can’t help but listen to his housemate speak. “Are you sure you should be letting Y/N-ie drink?”

“She’s not hurting anyone, is she?” Seungcheol deadpans, raising an eyebrow. “Look at her. She’s fine.”

Jihoon follows the line of view with Mingyu, observing you. You’re smiling quietly as you delicately place a purple flower bead onto the small plastic thread, Jisoo leaning down and whispering something in your ear, making you giggle and nudge his side before testing the length of the bracelet around his wrist.

“Aren’t they a little too close?” Wonwoo comments, a frown of concern on his face as your soulmate keeps his eyes on you tying the end of the bracelet around Jisoo’s wrist securely.

“If you’re trying to insinuate my friend would make a move on my sister, you’re wrong.” Seungcheol hums nonchalantly, taking a swig of his beer. “We were all close as kids. This is exactly like how they were.”

“Is Shua single, babe?” Jeonghan asks your brother, loud enough for Jihoon to hear. Jihoon frowns deeply, knowing what he is trying to do.

“I mean, he has a soulmate.” Seungcheol responds, Jeonghan keeping his eyes on Jihoon. “He hasn’t seen them for a long time, but he has one.”

“Interesting.” Is Jeonghan’s only response, sipping his drink as he eyes your soulmate’s obvious grimace.

Your giggles filled the comfortable silence for most of the relaxed evening as you watch Seungkwan nag to Soonyoung, wagging his finger in his face as the older boy starts to imitate him. The night has begun to quiet down now, nearing close to 1am as some of the group have retreated to their tents for the evening, leaving only Seungcheol, Jeonghan, Jisoo, Soonyoung, Seokmin, Seungkwan, Jihoon and yourself left awake. Although, you are clearly losing the battle of consciousness.

You’re currently on your upteenth bracelet of the night, blinking blearily as you place the rainbow beads carefully onto the thread as Jisoo, who now hasn’t left your side almost all evening, joins in as he seems to be making a necklace. Jihoon has been preparing to go back to his tent for a little while now, but he finds himself not able to rest until everyone else has. He stays put in his camping chair as he watches you and your friends wind down for the evening.

“Hey, you.” Seokmin leans over you, making you lean backwards against his front, relishing in his warmth as you hum in content.

“Hi.” You smile sleepily, watching as Seokmin reaches down to tie the bracelet against your wrist.

“Ready for bed, hm?” He smiles down to you as you begin to pout. Before you can speak, though, he laughs. “Come on, Bug, we are going into the city tomorrow to go to the beach. We need to rest so we can have a fun beach day.”

Jihoon can see the gears ticking in your head as you process his words, lip still in a deep frown. It’s cute.

“The bracelets will be here for you tomorrow, y’know.” Jisoo chimes in with a charming smile. “And we are all going to bed now so you won’t miss out.”

“Mm…Kay.” You yawn.

“C’mon.” Soonyoung coos, taking your hand as you rise, reaching up and rubbing at your eye tiredly. He wraps you in a fluffy blanket as he leads you to the large inflatable pool. He glances at Seungcheol and Jeonghan as he passes them, whispering. “Do you have the painkillers for tomorrow?” When they nod, he nods with approval before scooping you up and settling you down on the pillows beside his soulmate who takes you carefully.

“Ready for some stargazing?” Seokmin smiles as you nod silently, already leaning back and looking up at the clear, starry sky as Soonyoung lays down beside you. Your eyes begin to tiredly flutter closed, your head falling and resting against your best friend’s shoulder.

“I thought you said she wasn’t affectionate and cuddly with soulmated people?” Jisoo asked your brother curiously as you snuggle with your friends.

“Normally she isn’t.” Seungcheol hums.

“She’s been drinking, that’s why.” Jeonghan chimes in as he cleans the last of the rubbish on the table.

“Did you end up finding out why?” Your brother asks quietly. “She only ever does when something has really hurt her.”

Jeonghan pauses with a quick glance to Jihoon before shaking his head, a pang of guilt building inside him. “No. She wouldn’t tell me.”

“She will tell you about it when she’s ready, I’m sure.” Jisoo replies sagely with a smile that makes Jihoon almost scoff. He has known you for five minutes.

“Yeah, but…” Seungcheol sighs.

“Hey, no buts.” His soulmate smiles, pecking his lips. “She’s in the safest hands she could be in. And like Joshuji said, she will tell us when she is ready.”

After the others all made their way to their tents for the night, (and after a stupid longing stare at you resting in Soonyoung’s arms) Jihoon heaves a sigh as he steps into his small tent to see Ji-ah sitting straight up on the mattress, looking as if she’d seen a ghost.

“Babe?” The name leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that he chooses to ignore. It causes Ji-ah to jolt, not sensing his presence. “Is everything alright?”

“Jihoon,” she sighs nervously. “Something has happened. I… tomorrow when we go to the city I need to go home.”

“Wait, what?” Jihoon’s eyes widened as he crawled onto the mattress beside his not-soulmate. She tenses. “What’s happened? Do you need me to go with you?”

“No!” She insists quickly, making Jihoon jolt in shock. “I mean… no,” she takes a shaky breath and laughs awkwardly. “No.. it’s fine. I just need to get home as soon as I can.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” He reaches for her hand, which she hesitantly takes.

“Yes, I’m sure, babe.” She smiles, although to him it almost seems like a grimace. He pauses for a moment before nodding.

“Okay. I’ll get Jeonghan-ssi to take a detour on the way to the beach tomorrow.”

“Thank you…” she smiled again, a bit more genuine this time as they both moved to lay down to rest, although Jihoon doesn’t think he will be able to sleep any time soon - the memories of Jeonghan’s words and your heartbroken face playing over in his head on loop.

At the ripe time of 8:14am, Jihoon steps out of the tent with Ji-ah’s suitcase in tow, wincing at the bright sunlight shining through the trees on the campsite. He rubs at his eyes tiredly, glancing around at the state of the others.

At the early hour, only a few are awake and making breakfast for the (most likely) hungover others who are still resting. Jeonghan and Seungcheol man the barbecue, Jisoo putting all the food onto plates for everyone once they wake. Jihoon can’t help but frown a little at Jisoo before he glances over to where he knows he shouldn’t look.

Seokmin and Soonyoung are awake, sitting up and talking quietly to each other with a still resting you sleeping against Soonyoung’s chest. Your face is hidden from everybody, buried against the soft fabric of your best friend’s hoodie, protecting you from the brightness of the sun. Soonyoung is patting the back of your head as he speaks intimately with Seokmin, who is scratching your back absentmindedly. Jihoon watches for a moment, nose scrunching up slightly before he turns to make his way to your brother and his soulmate.

“Umm, Jeonghan-hyung,” Jihoon starts nervously. Hyung is fine, right? It’s respectful enough. “Can I please talk to you for a second?”

Jeonghan looks genuinely surprised at your soulmate standing before him, looking dare he says… scared? He’s amused as he watches Jihoon glance at your brother nervously for a split second. Your brother pays him no mind, still tending to the food so it doesn’t burn.

“Sure, give me a second.” He smiles, stepping out from behind the barbecue to the picnic table a few meters away, Jihoon trailing behind awkwardly.

“I’d like to ask a favor.” He can’t look Jeonghan in the face. If he was honest, his chat with him yesterday scared the crap out of him at the thought of your brother’s wrath. “It isn’t much, really…”

“What is it?”

“Ji-ah has had a family emergency come up.” He gestures to her suitcase by their tent. “I just wanted to ask if it was okay if we could pass by the train station on the way to the beach today? I can cover for fuel and-”

“Oh!” Jeonghan lets out an airy laugh. “Is that all?” Jihoon’s shocked at the change in his tone. “I thought you were going to tell me that you were going to do something stupid like ask me how to woo your soulmate.”

Jihoon gasps audibly as he quickly turns to look around to see if anybody overheard Jeonghan’s words.

“It’s fine, Jihoon-ssi.” He smiles. “Half of the guys are planning to go shopping in the city while we go to the beach anyway. No sweat.”

He releases a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Oh.. thank you, hyung.” He nods slowly. As he turns away, he jumps slightly at the feeling of Jeonghan’s hand grabbing his wrist.

“It’s no problem.” His voice is suddenly icy. “But, for future reference, don’t think about asking me about how to win Ladybug’s heart unless you’re 100% serious, you hear me?” A small jolt of fear runs through him as he nods worriedly. And just as quick as he came, Jeonghan’s expression changes back to his happy demeanor. “Perfect! We are on the same page then! Good talk.” He claps him on the back before making his way to the food. “Now have some breakfast before it gets cold.”

The others are uncharacteristically quiet as they all climb onto the bus for the quiet ride into the city due to the copious amount of alcohol consumption from the night before. Seungcheol is amused at the sight of a hungover you climbing onto the bus and planting yourself down on a seat.

You pull a pair of sunglasses over your eyes, leaning your head on the headrest as you immediately attempt to curl up and get comfy. Seokmin sits beside you, smiling at you as you grab his hand, placing it directly on top of your head with an intelligible mumble. Seokmin seems to understand, though, as he carefully pulls what hair he can back, starting to braid it delicately and neatly as Seungkwan chuckles with Mingyu at how adorably clingy you can be when you aren’t worrying so much.

Jihoon is unfortunately in the seats directly behind you both with Ji-ah, a small frown on his face as he tries to not stare at you and your hair. He’s so close he can hear you almost purring with content as you start to drift off once more, his stomach twisting in pain as Jeonghan starts the bus to take off.

“Thank you again for keeping her company, last night, Jisoo.” Jihoon can hear Seungcheol murmur to his friend, who is sitting beside Soonyoung.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He chirps happily, the alcohol’s after effects clearly not bothering him. “I’ve missed my little Goober.” Jihoon scoffs quietly, glancing out the window to try and ignore the conversation but feels his blood run cold for a moment as Jisoo’s voice grows softer.

“Besides, she needed that last night - to be carefree and have someone be there for her the way someone who loves her can, even if it was just for a night.” Everyone understands what Jisoo is implying, including Jihoon as he spots your brother’s soulmate stare at him for a moment through the rear view mirror. He winces, glancing away from the intense gaze, opting to stare at the scenery that is his first home town for the remainder of the short drive.

“Thank you again for dropping me off here, Jeonghan-Oppa.” Ji-ah smiles politely as she stands by the door of the bus. “You could have dropped me with the others at the mall, I would’ve found my way here.”

“Don’t be silly,” Jeonghan smiles at her, having got out of the bus to stretch his legs for a moment. “It’s no trouble at all. I would have rather known you made it here safely and in one piece. I hope your emergency is able to get sorted out quickly.” He gently pats her arm as she smiles sweetly at him.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you in?” Jihoon asks her quietly, and she shakes her head with a smile.

“I’m keeping you guys enough as it is. Go enjoy the beach, kay?” She smiles. Jihoon nods with a little smile.

“Alright then. Message me when you get back home?” He leans in to peck her lips, only to be surprised when instead of her lips, his own meets her cheek.

“Will do, Hoon. Bye!” Ji-ah is quick to grab her suitcase, dashing towards the entrance to the station, leaving Jihoon dumbfounded at the foot of the bus.

Did she just dodge his kiss?

“Jihoon-ah.” Jeonghan’s voice calls to him. If he noticed anything unusual, he doesn’t comment. “You coming?”

Jihoon blinks out of his daze, nodding quickly before climbing back up into the bus and back into his seat.

Jihoon has always loved the beach. Even though he was, as Soonyoung would call it, a certified hermit, as a child he would always find himself spending his weekends at the beach with his parents if the weather called for it. He takes in a deep breath as he tastes the familiar salty air, a small smile of content on his face as he watches the waves lull lazily against the shore.

Only a small number of the group decided to join Seungcheol and Jeonghan at the beach, including himself, Seokmin, Soonyoung, Wonwoo, Mingyu, Seungkwan, Hansol, Jisoo and yourself. He was more than happy with anyone who decided to join them, with the plan being the whole group meet up for dinner at a hotpot restaurant to celebrate Seungcheol’s actual birthday before taking the party back to the campsite for drinks and games.

Seungcheol, Soonyoung and Mingyu are already in the water as Jihoon sits down on his beach chair under a large communal beach umbrella where he and the others have set up for the day. He watches as Seokmin sits with Seungkwan and Hansol, happily making plans for a large, elaborate sandcastle while Wonwoo and Jisoo sit quietly on their towels, having a quiet discussion together. He glances down at his phone to see if Ji-ah has texted him yet, and sighs quietly when he sees no notifications.

“Are you seriously not thinking about getting into the water today, Ladybug?” Jeonghan’s hums in the distance, drawing closer to Jihoon and their things. “I think the cool water would make your hangover better, wouldn’t it?”

“Nope.” Your voice is dull and monotone, mirroring the way you feel. “There are sharks in that water, I refuse.”

“Sharks wouldn’t come up to where the water meets your hips, pabo.”

“I refuse to take that chance.” You wave him off, Jihoon hearing your voices getting closer. “I like swimming in bodies of water that are condensed and clear enough so I know what I’m getting into.”

“Then why are you wearing the bikini if you don’t plan on getting in?” Jeonghan retorts. Jihoon gulps.

“Because I need the tan.” You bark back, Jeonghan simply chuckling as he tickles your sides, causing you (and Jihoon) to jolt and yelp.

Jihoon knows he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Against his better judgement, he turns his head towards where your voice is coming from, choking on his own spit as he sees you; hair braided and sunglasses covering your eyes. You’re wearing a pastel blue and white striped bikini, the little galaxies of your collarbone on full display as you make your way to a beach chair near where Wonwoo is situated.

Jihoon is so fucked.

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[socra-time]

Naruto Episode Comments, Ep. 41-50

Ep 41:

-puppetry has gotta be one of my favorite ninja techniques so far ngl

-also Kankuro gives me bitchy theater kid vibes ngl. We stan

-again, Sakura has a far more compelling relationship with Ino than she does with fuckass Sasuke

-…goddamnit do I ship Sakura and Ino

-the way Gai says Kakashi’s name is so funny to me, he’s like “kaKAshi”

Ep 42:

-I think it’s funny that Lee just drifted over to hang out with Kakashi and Naruto

-ngl Ino losing her hold on Sakura was COMPLETE bullshit, Ino absolutely should have won that match

-ngl I’m really annoyed by the results of this match

-but anyways Gai and Lee cheering for Tenten was wholesome. Team Gai supremacy

Ep 43:

-okay Temari’s voice isn’t as bad as I initially thought it was

-rip Tenten, I get that they have to set up the threat of the Sand Siblings but Tenten deserved a little more of a fair fight rather than just being fodder for Temari to take down

-but also holy shit Temari’s takedown was fucking brutal

-Lee I fucking love you

-I also kinda love Ino now

-Naruto istg you better not beat up Kiba’s dog

Ep 44:

-not the first time I’ve noticed them but I like Kiba’s fangs

-I don’t really like Kiba’s voice

-if I was Naruto I would have forfeited the match immediately, I’m not gonna fucking fight a puppy

-ah yes the greatest jutsu of all, Furry jutsu

-Naruto kinda wasted his shot by biting Kiba while disguised as Akamaru, he should have tried to do more damage and punch Kiba in the face or something

-I love how everyone was commenting on how Naruto’s jutsu usage was more impressive than they thought and meanwhile Neji’s just like “I can’t believe he bit his opponent”

-why isn’t everyone just taking food pills during this exam if they’re so useful

-Kiba honey I hate to break it to you but you are not, in fact, the main character of Naruto

-respectfully both Naruto and Kiba should never be Hokage, it should OBVIOUSLY be Lee

Ep 45:

-NOOOO AKAMARU BBY

-I’m not gonna lie I don’t really believe Naruto has the chakra control and intelligence at this point in the series to pull off the trick he does with the double transformation jutsu

-I find it both amusing and annoying that Kiba (and also Shikamaru and Choji) calls Naruto “kid”. Like y’all are the same age lmao

- yeah no same as Ino, Kiba kindaaaa should have won. I’m more okay with this outcome than the Ino-Sakura result because Naruto’s the MC so he’s obviously going to win, but that fart was utter bullshit

-also I get that Kiba probably would have wrecked the clones with his human drill shit but why didn’t Naruto just try spamming shadow clones from the beginning

Ep 46:

-Team 8’s dynamic intrigues me. I want to see more of them

-why was ANYONE surprised that Hinata and Neji are related. Like were their eyes not a dead fucking giveaway???

-Kurenai is so mother

-anyways fuck Hinata’s dad

-between this match and the Sakura-Ino match, why did no one tell Naruto to not interrupt the matches

-okay so this confirms that Team 8 is the Konoha team that I would LEAST want to fight, purely because my options are (a) getting my chakra devoured by a swarm of bugs, (b) getting mauled by the human equivalent of Drill Run, or (c) suffering organ failure. Yeah no I’d rather get punched or stabbed by the other teams, thank you very much

Ep 47:

-with his level of precision and the Byakugan, Neji should quit the whole ninja thing and go be a doctor

-oh Naruto you sweet oblivious child

-I am absolutely not sold on Naruto and Hinata as a ship yet btw

-ngl if I was the proctor I would have yelled at Naruto to shut up and stop interrupting the matches

-Lee and Gai continue to be the best duo in this entire fucking show

Ep 48:

-I’ve heard that Gaara vs Lee is amazing, so I’m going in with high expectations

-Gaara is so fucking small next to his siblings

-Lee is so goddamn cute. I love my son

-you know you’re terrifying when SHINO is afraid of you

-Lee is so happy that he gets to go apeshit lmao

-the moment when the leg weights drop was amazing

-also it’s the first time we see Gaara look surprised and off-guard, which really hammers home just how insane Lee is

-I’ve seen it before but the effect of Gaara’s face cracking is so cool

-also it’s funny that Kankuro has fully just joined the Konoha peanut gallery for this match

Ep 49:

-welp Gaara’s gone completely off the rails

-Lee is officially my favorite character rn and it’s not even close

-if Lee can only do taijutsu, how did he pass the academy test and become a genin? I mean maybe it was a Naruto type of situation where other shit happened, but he wouldn’t have been able to pass the test normally, right?

-Leeeeee my silly badass son I love you so much. Peak character of all time

-again, the way Gai says “kaKAshi” cracks me up

-so like is Gai not gonna get in trouble with the ninja government for teaching Lee forbidden jutsus? Like Lee is very blatantly using the Primary Lotus and Hidden Lotus in a government-run exam and it’s pretty obvious who would have taught him those

Ep 50:

-holy shit Lee is fully just going Super Saiyan

-even Neji is shook by Lee lmao

-NOOOO LEE

-Gai stepping in and the background music and noises cutting out was such a good moment

-Gai is legit Lee’s dad and I’m so here for it

-Lee has Naruto solidly beaten for the title of “most tenacious motherfucker in the show”

-that moment with Gai hugging Lee’s unconscious body was so good, my heartttttt 😭

-the medic telling Gai that Lee will never fight again would be much more heartbreaking if I didn’t know that he’s literally fine later on

-the strings instrumental that plays after Lee’s defeat is so good

[striveattemptfail]

chaos, we so catostrophic | Logan Howlett & Wade Wilson, 1.1k, PG-13

@poolvertober: Day 17 – Cozy

Summary: Takes place immediately after Wade introduces Logan and Mary Puppins to Al. This is 100% dialogue and is more gen than slash but we all know the truth ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) TW: Rated for canon-typical violence, gun use, mentions of drugs/alcohol, language, and death of a nameless rat. Read on Ao3

A/N: I'm taking today's prompt real fast and loose here so please forgive me lmao. Title from Chk Chk Boom by Stray Kids because I'm still offended it wasn't included in the OST, smh 😑 Shout out to the wonderful Zay @comatose--overdose for the beta, idea throwing, and putting up with my ass (ಥ‿ಥ) All other mistakes are mine.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

“It’s like an armadillo fucked a gremlin, angrily, and in a bed of gonorrhoea—”

“Wow.”

“—and didn’t stop ‘til the sun came up!”

“Whatever it is, I ain’t taking care of it.”

“Don’t worry about that. Besides, we should talk about how Logan is here to live with us!”

“No, I’m not...?”

“How the fuck are we supposed to keep a mangy dog and another whole-ass human being alive in this shithole apartment, Wade?”

“Gasp! How dare you call her mangy? She’s a princess and deserves to be treated like royalty!”

“And you want her to live in this cocaine-less den?”

“Did you just say ‘gasp’ out loud, bub?”

“The movie’s almost over, so I can probably hook you up with Doug’s forbidden baking powder soon. I’ll figure it out!”

“What about the entire man—”

“Ooh, that he is.”

“—that you intend to house in this one-bed, one-bath?”

“I’ll only be here until I can get on my feet, ma’am.”

“Nope, you’re staying here until you’re 90! Also, ‘ma’am’? Logan, I’m pretty sure you’re twice her age.”

“What the fuck?”

“Oh yeah, Logan’s the Wolverine and he’s, like, stupid old.”

“Fuck you.”

“...I thought Wolverine died?”

“This is a new one.”

“How the fuck did you get a fucking new one?”

“I’ll give you the abridged version of the movie later, after everybody settles in.”

“Wade! For fuck’s sake, I can hear you leaving—don’t you dare walk away from me!”

“Don’t you dare walk away from meeeee!”

“Singing Whitney doesn’t answer my question about how the hell we’re fitting three people and a dog in here!”

“We’ve got a pull-out—haha, pull out—in the living room and an XL twin in the bedroom.”

“My bedroom, Wade!”

“Bub, are you fuckin’ serious?”

“Hey, if the fanfics can make it work, then we’ll make it work!”

“I cannot believe this shit. This dumbass never listens to me.”

“Jesus fuckin’ christ. Althea?”

“Yes, Logan?”

“Ya got any booze around?”

“I think there’s beer in the fridge.”

“Booze? Already? It’s not even—Al, what time is it?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“Right, blind, can’t see the time.”

“If that wall clock’s right, it’s 3:14, bub.”

“It’s not even 4pm and you’re already drinking?!”

“If I have to put up with your hairless-brained bullshit, yes, I am.”

“I’d be more offended at that joke but I’m honestly impressed, pookie.”

“Seriously? For calling you bald?”

“His standards are in hell used as Satan’s spreader bar where he should’ve gone instead of rooming with me.”

“Hey!”

“Pfft!”

“Unbelievable, I can’t believe—oh, no! No no no no, Lady Leprosy With Legs, don’t nap in that! That’s where Daddy keeps his knives.”

“That’s what I’m trying to talk about, Wade! Where the hell is everyone supposed to sleep?”

“You and I can bunk together like we used to, Al. Logan can take the pull-out.”

“Oh, friggin’ hell—no. You and I will share that damn couch and Althea can keep her bed.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet, sugar tits!”

“Now, what about the dog?”

“She’ll get a dog bed, duh.”

“What? D’ya just have a dog bed lying around somewhere?”

“I do, actually! But where did I put that thing?”

“Are you serious?”

“Convenient, huh! I found it in Al’s shit when we moved in together and decided to keep it. I’m guessing the author got too lazy trying to figure out a better way to include it in this fic.”

“...He just says shit sometimes. Don’t mind him, Logan.”

“I’m well aware. You’re a weirdo, bub.”

“Thank you! I’ll take that as a compliment. Now, if I remember right—SHIT!!!”

“What?!”

“The fuck’s happening?!”

“Ah, shit, fuck! There’s a rat!”

“A RAT?!”

“Althea, where did you get that gun—put it down!”

“POINT ME TO THE FUCKING RAT!”

“Al, put the fucking gun down!”

“GET RID OF THE RAT FIRST!”

“Arf!”

“Mary, don’t touch that thing!”

“Fuckin’ hell, bub, grab Mary while I—”

BANG!

“AL, FOR CHRIST’S SAKE—”

“Arf-arf! Rrrrruff!”

“WADE, GRAB THE GODDAMN DOG!”

“NO, GET THE FUCKING RAT FIRST!”

“Mary—!”

BANG!

“AH!!!”

“Althea!”

“Jack Kirby’s giant ballsack!”

“Did I get it?!”

“Fuck no! You hit me, you empty-eyed, shit-for-aim walking corpse!”

“Rrrrrrafff!”

“Logan, keep her from shooting this way!”

“Just let me aim for the fucking rat!”

“Althea, please just hand me—”

“Get your goddamn hands off my glock!”

“Then stop shooting!”

“Mary, wait—!”

BANG!

“Rrrrrragghhh!”

“Ho. ly. shit.”

“What the fuck happened? Did I get it? Is it dead?!”

“You’re such a good girl, yes, you are!”

“He better not be talking to me, I swear to god.”

“Little miss angel face here just caught our uninvited guest!”

“Grrrrrr.”

“Wade, get that thing out of her mouth before it catches rabies from her.”

“Wow, rude, she doesn’t have rabies! Also, I’m pretty sure it’s already dead. She’s got no teeth but a hell of a bite, don’t you, my lovely bundle of herpes and joy?”

“Just get the fucking thing out of here!”

“Ugh, fine, jeez louise—come here, girl. You did such a good job, yes you did! Thank you for killing that thing! Now, let’s go toss it out.”

“The dog caught the rat?”

“Yeah, she did.”

“Well...I guess it can stay then.”

“Really? The dog’s already in your good graces?”

“You’re the one who tried grabbing my gun.”

“Because you were shooting everywhere!”

“And now you’re arguing with me!”

“...My apologies, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

“Just keep your word and it’s alright.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Alrighty! Time to go look for that bed again.”

“Anybody want a beer?”

“Can you grab me one, Logan?”

“You already finished that whole can?!”

“‘Course I did. All that shit gave me headache.”

“Welcome to a day in the life of Deadpool and Blind Al, peanut!”

“I did this to myself. I chose to come here. How the fuck did that happen?”

“I wonder the same damn thing all the time.”

“Your beer.”

“Thank you, baby.”

“I can’t believe it’s been less than five minutes and both of you are already ganging up on me!”

“S’not hard to.”

“My Wolvie is so mean! Aha, here it is! I knew I still had the old thing. Here you go, my fearless guard dog.”

“It was a rat, not an intruder, Wade.”

“She protected the house and killed that pest. She’s practically a guardian angel!”

“Eh, good enough for me.”

“See, Al gets it!”

“I still ain’t looking after that thing.”

“That’s fine. Logan and I will!”

“I did not sign up for that.”

“You did when you agreed to crash with me!”

“Is he always like this, Althea?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

“Make yourself cozy, Logan, because it only gets better from here!”

“God help me.”

“God help us all.”

“Arf!”

[girl-of-many-fandoms]

Better Late Than Never

Pairing: Alex Karev x Reader

Summary: After years of being gone, Alex makes his return to Grey Sloan Memorial.

Warnings: Mention of Jack Gibson and light cursing.

She's baaccckkk!!!

-----

“Dr. Y/L/N.” 

“What is it Griffith?” The brunette looked up from the tablet in her hands to see the new intern smiling back at her and panting like she just ran two miles. Y/N cocked an eyebrow and the intern who seemingly forgot her reason for searching for the OBGYN in the first place.

“Oh! There’s a really handsome man looking for you. Well, I overheard him asking Dr. Hunt for you down in the pit but he got brushed off so I offered to bring him up but he said he knew this hospital like the back of his hand. Which is weird now that I think about it.” Griffith tilted her head to the side causing her curls to bounce on top of her head as she thought back to her interaction with the man.

“Did he give you a name?”

“I didn’t ask but he’s right-” 

“Here.” For a second the doctor’s heart skipped a beat at the sound of a very familiar voice. A voice that she tried so hard to forget over the past couple years. 

No no no, it can’t be him she thought.

“Y/N.” 

“Griffith I need you run down to the lab to collect Mrs. Henry’s lab workup.” Alex hung his head and the intern could visibly see her superior trying her best to ignore the man that called out to her.

“Y/N you can’t igno-” 

“Griffith-”

“On it.” The intern glanced between the pair before speed walking down the hall to the elevator. Alex sighed, he knew that she wasn’t going to be happy to see him but he didn’t expect her to ignore him either.

“Y/N please, can we talk?”

Rolling her eyes at him Y/N walked past him to go check on her patient but that only made him follow her. Alex securely took hold of her arm and pulled her into the nearest on-call room.

“Alex! What the hell?” Breaking away from him she wasted no time in putting as much distance between them as possible. 

“Y/N I know you don’t want to see me especially after the way things ended between us but I just want to talk.” 

“It’s been years since you left me to go back to Izzie and now you want to talk. Alex I’m only going to say this once, fuck you. I don’t want to hear a word coming out of your mouth because when you were supposed to talk to me you left. You took your things and took off leaving me a freaking letter filled with bullshit.” Alex listened to her release all her anger on him that she definitely had pent up over the years.

“I meant everything in that letter Y/N. I loved you and every single thing we had built together-”

“Oh please, you wouldn’t even know what love is even if it slapped you in the face Karev. If you had loved me, loved us and what we had, you wouldn’t have left. We would’ve come up with a way for you to meet your kids and be a part of their lives but you took off instead. You didn’t mention them to me, you just found out and left me in the dirt.” Hot tears pricked at her eyes as all the hurt, frustration and anger rushed to the surface but she’s not going to let them fall. Alex Karev didn’t deserve another tear of hers.

“You didn’t deserve that.” 

“I didn’t deserve that but yet still you did that to me!” Alex felt a stabbing pain in his chest hearing and seeing how much pain, how much she’s hurting over the way he left. After all, they were three days away from getting married and starting a life together.

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s a little too late for apologies.” A moment of silence fell over the room giving Y/N the time to get a hold of her emotions. Alex couldn’t help but take in her appearance after being away from her for years. He had to admit, her beauty never changed but the thing that struck him was the wedding band that she wore on her left hand.

“How are they?”

“Mhm?” Alex snapped back to reality at the sound of her voice.

“Your family, how are they?” She couldn’t help but to be curious about the kids and what they looked like. A smile graced his face at the thought of his kids back home.

“They’re good, the kids are growing nicely.” 

“And Izzie, how is she?” 

“We’re no longer together, we had gotten remarried and tried the whole apple pie family life but that only lasted for two years. I’m just sticking around for the sake of the kids.” His smile faltered, breaking that news to her. When he left he had hopes of working things out with Izzie and they did but it wasn’t the same and he knew that. He knew that his heart was back in Seattle with Y/N but he didn’t want to not be part of his children’s lives. Clearing his throat, he pointed to the rock that sat on her ring finger.

“You got married?” 

“I did, I married Gibson” Y/N’s lips curled up into a smile at the thought of her husband Jack.

“Gibson from Station 19? Wow, okay.” Alex didn’t see that one coming, he stuffed his hands into his pockets as he continued.

“He uh- treating you right?” 

“He is.”

“Good, good, you deserve it.” Y/N could see that he’s still wrapping his head around it and just as she was about to say something her pager went off.

“I have to go, they need me in the pit.” She brushed past him but stopped with her hand on the doorknob.

“Alex, although it took a while, thanks for finally coming to talk.”

“Better late than never, right?” The pair chuckled at that statement because it’s true. Now she was finally able to bury what they had.

“But I should get going, take care of yourself Karev.” Y/N opened the door and ran off leaving him in the cold room. Just as the door closed shut behind her, Alex found himself saying the three words that he wanted to tell her all along.

“I love you.”

-----

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