#saying this out of anger and sadness i don’t mean it.
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
This honestly might be a downer or stupid, but I just got fired and I am having a really hard time. I just want to bury my head in Stan's chest and sob. I was wondering if you could write how the Stan and Ford might react to the reader being suddenly fired and maybe how they'd comfort them? I'm also really excited for the next chapter of your fic!
✧˚⋆ Stan & Ford supporting you when you need it most ⋆。♡˚
oh sweetheart, im so sorry ur going through this, holy shit. just the moment i received this ask, i knew i had to write smth when ill get free time today, because i feel so sorry for you. i hope these two old men gave u even a tiny bit of comfort, please be kind to urself right now, youre gonna get through this, i promise. sending u all my love !! stay strong please 🫂🫂
STANLEY
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6fac9d256e77a3492987419e31bb2ecd/3196edffa70db260-f8/s540x810/3176347ca1a699d791caf89810fd4f235fc6f72b.jpg)
the thing about Stan is that he gets it. he gets the feeling of being chewed up and spat out, of having doors slam in your face, of working your ass off and still being told you’re not enough. he gets the quiet humiliation, the bitterness in the back of your throat, the way your hands shake when you try to act like it doesn’t matterm
you don’t even remember how you got here. your feet must’ve carried you through the streets, past strangers whose lives weren’t just ruined, past cars honking, past buildings that still stood while the whole world inside you had collapsed.
“hey, hey. what the hell, sweetheart, breathe, alright? you’re okay, you’re right here.” his rough but worried voice reaches you when you slam mystery shack's door open, standing in the doorway with shaking hands, red-eyed.
“i got fired, Stan. j-just gone, outta nowhere. i don’t know what to do, Stan, im so lost.” your throat burns
before you can say anything else, he's opening his arms. “c'mere.” and you don't even hesitate as you crash into him like a wave, burying your face in his chest. and he holds you, one big arm wrapping around your back, the other hand coming up to cradle the back of your head
“there we go. you don’t gotta keep it all in, sweetheart.” the words hit you harder than you expect. you're so used to holding it together, to swallowing everything down, to being strong. and Stan, who’s built himself up from nothing, who’s taken every punch life threw at him and still kept standing, he’s telling you it’s okay to break.
so you do. you bury your face in his chest and cry until you’re dizzy, until your breath stutters and shakes, until all the anger and hurt and fear bleed out of you. Stanley doesn’t rush you or tell you to stop. “let it out, sweetie, s’gonna be okay.” he holds you close tightly because he’s spent his whole life holding people who needed it more than he did.
“it’s not fair,” you gasp, clutching on his clothes.
“no, it ain’t.”
“i worked so hard.”
“i know.”
“i feel like—like nothing i do is enough—”
Stan tightens his hold, pressing his chin to the top of your head. “hey. you listen to me.” his voice turns serious. “some suit in an office makin’ a crap decision got nothing to do with who you are. they're dumb. absolute morons for lettin’ you go. betcha the whole place is gonna fall apart without you because you were the best thing about that shithole. if they couldn’t see that, then screw ‘em. they lost you. not the other way around.”
you shake your head, clenching your fists. “but—“
“no buts,” he growls and then, softer: “you're not trash just ‘cause some idiots don’t know how to treat their workers. you're not worthless just ‘cause some suits decided you were expendable. you are not nothing.”
Stan pulls back to tip your chin up, making sure you’re listening. his thumb wipes a tear off your cheek. “i mean, you still got me, sweetheart. ain’t no job in the world that could change that.” he smiles genuinely at you.
you close your eyes, giving him a tiny sad smile back. you let yourself breathe, let yourself believe it, hiding your face in his chest again. Stan's grip stays strong and unshaking, shielding you from the whole world as you cry until you’re too tired, so all what you do is sob into his chest. you’re just leaning into him, exhausted, letting him hold you up.
Stan sighs, resting his cheek against your hair. “ya ever heard the story of the biggest screw-up in New Jersey?”
you sniffle. “what?”
”lemme tell ya, kid grows up in a house that don’t want him. gets kicked out. loses every job he ever had. ends up in a broken-down shack in the middle of nowhere. total loser.”
you shift against him. “Stan—“
“but he keeps goin’. and somehow, somehow, that dumbass loser ends up with people who love him. ends up holdin’ someone who needs it. ends up tellin’ the best damn person he’s ever met that they’re gonna be okay.”
he lets you lean into him again, lets you breathe him in, lets you stay as long as you need. tells you stories about all the bosses he’s scammed just to make you laugh.
at some point, when the tears have slowed and the weight in your chest isn’t crushing anymore, Stan ruffles your hair and leans back, arms crossed.
“y’know, i could use an extra set of hands around the shack.“
you blink up at him, sniffing. “what? you. . .you want me to work here?”
“yeah, id rather have someone i actually like workin’ here instead of hiring some random kid who’s just gonna rob me blind.” his usual gruff tone is back, but his gaze is what speaks louder, soft and certain, making it obvious that you belong here.
you open your mouth, but he cuts in, pointing a finger at you. “and before ya say some crap about not bein’ good enough or whatever, shut up. i’m the boss, i decide who’s good enough, and i say it’s you.”
you let out a shaky laugh, wiping your nose. “wow, such a heartfelt offer.”
he smirks. “hey, that’s as heartfelt as it gets, sweetheart. but seriously. think about it, okay? i got a spot for ya.” Stanley is not just offering a job for you, he’s offering a place, a place where you’re wanted, where you’re needed, where you don’t have to prove yourself to anyone.
you take a deep breath, feeling lighter for the first time all day. “yeah. yeah, i’ll think about it.”
“good,” Stan smiles and ruffles your hair again. “now, wanna eat somethin’? watch a dumb movie? beat me at cards? or you want me to egg their car?” about the last thing, he's joking, probably. but if you say yes, you know he’ll do it.
STANFORD
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a855abf95a718c9877e4c11491893626/3196edffa70db260-81/s540x810/a6f4c42ed79f62b137d75213c5314c43197d97e8.jpg)
Ford finds you sitting at the kitchen table, arms crossed on the surface, face buried in them. you haven’t moved and spoken in a while, just sat there, motionless, like a puppet with the strings cut.
he clears his throat, stepping closer. “i, ah. noticed you didn’t come in for dinner.”
you don’t respond. his brows knit together, concern creasing his forehead. he takes the seat across from you, folding his hands on the table. “would you like to talk about it?”
for a moment, nothing. then, muffled: “i got fired.” slips from your mouth. so that's what happened. Ford doesn’t say oh. doesn’t say im sorry. doesn’t say what happened? he understands you because Ford Pines knows what it is to be discarded. he knows what it is to dedicate yourself to something, only to be told you are wrong. to be shoved out, unmoored, drifting in the space between who you thought you were and who they’ve decided you are now.
he knows what it is to look down at his hands and wonder if they are still meant to build something. after being betrayed.
he frowns thoughtfully. “that was. . . rather sudden, wasn’t it?”
you nod weakly. Ford exhales through his nose, gaze sharpening, analyzing. you. your sadness. the whole situation.
“it must feel unfair.“ he doesn’t just acknowledge the loss, but the injustice of it. and it makes your throat close up.
you lift your head slightly, looking at his face. “it- it is. i tried so hard. i put so much effort into that stupid job, and now it’s just—just gone.”
Ford hums. “tell me something.” he leans forward, putting elbows on the table. “do you think your value was in the work you did?”
you blink at him, but he doesn't even let you answer. “because if that were the case, then the moment you lost that job, you would have lost all worth as a person. but that’s not true, is it?” his voice is always so calm, full of absolute certainty.
you shake your head slowly, unsurely and Ford nods, satisfied. then, after a brief pause, he stands. “wait here” you don’t have the energy to question him. you just sit, staring blankly at the tabletop, until he returns a moment later with a notebook and pen.
he places them in front of you.
you glance up, confused. “what’s this for?”
Ford takes his seat again, tapping a finger against the cover. “do me a favor, darling. write down five things about yourself that have nothing to do with your job.”
your face looks tired and skeptical. you stare at the paper. “Ford, i—“
“anything,” he says softly, smiling at you. “everything. what you love. what you’re good at. what excites you, what makes you feel something. what matters to you.”
your fingers tighten around the pen. at first, you don’t know where to start. but Ford doesn’t rush you, just patiently sits beside you.
so you write. you write about the things that make you you. and at first, it feels stupid and awkward. it starts small, your favorite books, your favorite songs, the way you love thunderstorms, the way you always make extra coffee just in case someone else wants some.
but then it gets bigger. the things you’ve created. the things you’ve learned. the times you were kind when no one was looking. the people who love you, who see you. the way you keep going, even when it’s hard
Ford watches as you write, nodding approvingly at each entry.
“now tell me: did losing your job take any of that away?”
you stare at the words. the little pieces of yourself you hadn’t even thought about in the wake of everything. softly, you shake your head
Ford’s expression gentles. “then you’re still you. and you’re still worth just as much as you were yesterday. because no job, no institution, no single event defines you.” you swallow hard. Fords voice drops lower. “you are more than what you do, more than what you produce, more than what some company decides you’re worth. you are your thoughts. your curiosity. your kindness.” he gestures to the list. “you are all of this and nothing can take that from you.”
your breath wobbles. Ford’s gaze softens further. “come here, sweetheart.“ you hesitate but only for a second, then stand and he meets you halfway, arms wrapping around you. and Ford isn’t Stanley, isn’t someone used to giving big, open, thoughtless affection. but what he lacks in ease, he makes up for in intent.
because he means this. his big hand moves up and down your back slowly. “you’re not alone in this,” he murmurs into your hair. “we’ll figure something out. and until then. . . you are still extraordinary.“ his voice is so certain, and suddenly you don’t feel quite as lost.
“th-thank you” you bury your face in his sweater, hands gripping his sleeves
“and don’t let anyone ever tell you you aren’t smart or brave or worthy enough.”
you stay there a while. until Ford gives your shoulder one last squeeze and pulls back, adjusting his glasses. “now. i assume you haven’t eaten?”
you smile at him, shaking your head. “no, wasn't in the mood.“
“come, sweetheart, let’s fix that.”
#gravity falls#gravity falls x reader#gravity falls x you#x reader#ford pines x reader#stanford pines#stan pines x reader#grunkle stan#stanley pines x you#stanley pines x reader#stanford pines x you#stanford pines x reader#stan pines smut#ford pines smut#stanley pines#stanford pines headcanons#gravity falls fanfiction#stan pines x you#ford pines x you
121 notes
·
View notes
Text
from my family line
It's funny how as a young child you cannot wait to grow up. You cannot wait to make your own rules. You can go to bed when you want, eat all the sweets in the world and make your own way. Then suddenly you are an adult, and you can do all those things, and you don't. You do not particularly know when you made that transition from innocent child to haunted adult. Maybe it was when you were thrown out of your house after your father saw you kissing a girl. He did not stop to console you after your best friend pushed you off her calling you a freak. He wasn’t swayed when you were crying at him to comfort you. He just handed you your kit bag and said you were no daughter of his and you left with a black eye.
Looking back, you don’t really understand why this bothered you so much. Growing up, you never had a stable childhood. Your mother (if you could still call her that) killed herself when you were 7. There was no conversation and no hug goodbye, I mean she did not even leave a note. You used to get sad thinking about it but now you just feel anger. Anger that she left in such a cowardly way and anger that she left you alone with your father. Your father was a cruel man whose mood could change quicker than the weather. On the most part he left you alone. He let you do whatever you wanted if you stayed out of his way, but if you mix alcohol into that equation then the situation quickly became unpredictable. You could not count the number of times you had ‘walked into a door’ or ‘fallen down the stairs’. That was one of the benefits of playing a contact sport like football, you always had an excuse ready if one of your teachers doubted you. Football has been the one constant in your life, the one thing that gave you stability and happiness if you are being completely honest. You quickly realised you had talent when you were in primary school. You were quick to sign up to any free clubs at school, either before or after the school day. It was a win-win situation as it kept you out of your house in a safe and clean environment and it did not cost anything. Thinking back now, you owe everything to that after-school football program for the opportunities you have been given in your life. It was the coaches who recognised your talent in football and sent you to a local academy. You loved your time there and, in all honesty, it was the last time you were consistently happy. You had a nutritious breakfast and lunch provided for you every day. There was always hot water for showers and of course the facilities for you to improve your football was great. You had hoped to stay there until you were 21 so you would have the necessary qualifications for a job, but it did not work out that way. Nothing in your life ever worked out the way you wanted it to, and you were naive to believe that.
That about brings you to the present moment as you stand in front of the Arsenal training ground. Your hand clenched around your bag strap as you try and fail to hide your nerves. You wonder how you are good enough for any of this. You wonder what the scout saw in you to have requested you join the team at arsenal. Even going as far as to buy you out at the academy so you had no choice but to go. You know you should be grateful for this opportunity. There are so many players who would jump at the chance to play for a top team in the league. Just as you began to spiral further into a pit of self-doubt, the door to the training grounds opens and you are met with a woman you have come to know as Renee Slegers closely followed by the scout who first took notice of you.
‘Dylan? We are so thrilled to have you join us here at Arsenal. Come in out the cold, you must be freezing’ she says with a friendly smile.
hey everyone, this is my first fic i have written so please let me know what you guys think of it and if you want more or something else requested. :)
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
Daddy’s Girl pt 7
Master List
Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (wife), Dean and Reader’s daughter, other characters from Supernatural
Warnings: court proceedings, angst, fluff, slight smut, mention of sexual assault
A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This chapter will touch on the sentencing of the jackasses, how the family is navigating life and other twists and turns.
This is a work of fiction and does not follow the Supernatural storyline. I do not own the rights to the characters used.
All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated.
Minors DNI 18+
I moved back into the bunker but not our shared bedroom. I slept in the spare room down the hall. Most nights I stared at the ceiling longing for Dean. My heart was still broken from the cruel words he flung at me, the anger he had towards me.
We had appointments with a therapist. Delilah, Dean and I had our own, then a family appointment and of course one for Dean and I together. I was scared the cracks in our foundation would open up and swallow us whole.
The day we were due back in court for the sentencing I woke up early. I took a shower and walked quietly to the kitchen. Turning the corner I gasped softly. Dean was sitting at the table. His green eyes flicked up to mine. He looked exhausted and sad.
“Good morning, sweetheart.” My breath hitched and my heart clenched. I missed hearing him call me that and meaning it. “Good morning, Dean. Are you ready for today?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He shifted in his seat and there was a crackle of tension in the air. “Hey, um, do you think you and I can sit and talk later?” He asked in an unsure way.
I took a deep breath, “Dean, I think we should wait and talk with the therapist. They can help us with communication so we don’t end up saying things we’re going to regret later. Hurt each other more.”
Dean took a shaky breath and nodded. He stood and walked over to me, cupped my face, “For what it’s worth I’m sorry. I don’t blame you for Delilah. I spoke out of anger. I love you and I can’t lose you.”
I leaned into his touch, “I love you too, Dean. I never stopped, but we have some work to do.” He nodded and let his hand slowly fall from my face. The warmth on my cheek lingered.
A few hours later we were sitting in the courtroom. I held Delilah’s and Charlie’s hands. Dean sat on the other side of Delilah and held her hand.
The judge came in and discussed the trial and what the charges were. “Since both defendants showed a lack of remorse, and it has come to light this attack was not the first one I feel it is my duty as an officer of the court and a sworn protector of justice that I sentence both of you to the max time and you two will have to register on the sex offender registry for the rest of your lives. Bailiff, please take both of these young men into custody where they will be transported to the regional jail.”
We all let out the breath we were holding. The boys were crying and their mother’s were wailing. Delilah looked at me and I leaned over, “Don’t feel bad for them. You did nothing wrong. Daddy and I raised you and Charlie to take accountability for your actions, this is how they take accountability.”
She nodded. I made eye contact with Dean and he offered a soft smile. I craved his arms around me, his lips on mine. I just wanted us to get back to the way we were. I missed my husband.
The next few days we spent time together as a family. The distance between Dean and I was growing. Sam, Eileen and Jody came over more often and tried to help.
Today Dean and I had our first therapy appointment together. I was nervous. All the hurt from the past few weeks was taking a toll on us. The ride to the therapist office was quiet.
When we arrived, Dean walked around and opened my door out of habit. Walking into the building, his hand graced my lower back. Again, habit. It made my heart flutter, a smile formed on my lips. Almost like there was a spark of hope igniting between us.
When we walked into the room the therapist invited us to sit wherever we were comfortable. Dean and I sat on the couch, but opposite ends. I noticed she wrote something down.
She started telling us about herself and then invited us to tell her about our marriage and what brought us here today. She already knew about Delilah, but she didn’t know what happened between us.
Dean shifted uncomfortably in his spot. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. “Well, the stress of what happened to Delilah really got to all of us. Dean and I didn’t handle it well, and things were said that led to our separation. When I got into my accident I wasn’t living at home. Waking up in the hospital I saw my babies and Dean. Leaving the hospital I decided to move back home.”
“I see, are you two sleeping in the same room?” I shook my head no. She wrote something down. She looked at Dean, “So, Mr Winchester, what do you think happened that brought you two here today?”
Tears filled Dean’s eyes and my heart broke. “It’s my fault. I got so angry at not being able to protect my baby I took it out on my wife. I’ve always been able to protect people. She didn’t deserve the things I said to her. It wasn’t her fault and I told her it was. None of this was her fault. I’m a coward. I got scared and lashed out at the one person I knew who would always love me. She’s seen me at my worst and helped put me back together. I guess I just assumed she’d always be there no matter what. Now I’ve lost the love of my life forever.”
I gasped softly and the therapist looked over at me. “Mr Winchester.” “Dean, please call me Dean.” “Okay, Dean, tell me when you first knew Y/N was the one. Tell me about the moment you fell in love with her.”
Dean smirked a bit and I looked over at him, wondering if it was the same day I was thinking about.
“We had just finished a particularly grueling, um week at work.” I smirked at his choice of words. “We hadn’t been dating long, but had been working together for years. The two of us decided to get away for a bit so we went to a friend’s cabin. Y/N didn’t know because I blindfolded her. When we got there I had blankets spread out on the floor, our favorite takeout and pie. Had to make sure my girl got her favorite pie.”
I smiled thinking about the day. A warmth filling my body.
“Candles everywhere. I went to start a fire and the wood was wet. I ended up chopping wood. She doesn’t know it, but I saw her watching from the doorway. The soft smile that ran across her lips, the way she bit her lower lip.”
I clenched my thighs together thinking about his cutting the wood. His shirt was tight against his body, the flexing of each muscle with the swing of the ax, and the way his strength was on display. I remember how it turned me on and made me feel. Like this man could protect me and anyone else that came along for the rest of our lives.
“When the fire was lit, I put on some music. I don’t know how to dance, but I knew how much she loved it, so I tried. I took her in my arms. I still remember the way her eyes looked at me. So beautiful, so full of love. We danced and I lost my footing. We tumbled onto the blankets, me hovering over her. Her hair falling in her face. I gently brushed her hair back, looked in her eyes, kissed her lips softly and that’s when I knew. When I knew I was in love with her and would never love anyone else for the rest of my life. I knew she was going to be my wife, the mother of my children. That was the day I told her ‘I love you’ for the first time.”
By the time Dean finished, tears were streaming down my face. The therapist told us it sounded like there was still a lot of love between us. This tragic incident in our lives tried to create a wedge. So, she gave us some homework, “I want the two of you to spend time together. Just the two of you. No children, no family. Just the two of you. You two need to get back to what made the two of you fall in love. I want you two to go away for a long weekend, or a week. Y/N, I want you to start by moving back into your bedroom with Dean. If this is going to work you have to be back in there.”
I nodded. We thanked her and left. Walking to the car, Dean’s hand was by his side. I looked over at him and slid my hand into his, our fingers intertwined. He looked at our hands then at me and smiled.
The drive home wasn’t as tense as the drive there. We talked about the homework and how we would figure out how to get away for a little bit. He took my hand and held it tight, “We will figure it out, baby. I want to make us work. I want to fix us. I will never forgive myself for hurting you. I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, Dean. I want us to fix us too.” He kissed my hand. We drove home and when we got home I walked to the spare room and started to gather my things.
Dean came to the door and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you need any help, sweetheart?” I looked up at him and shook my head. He walked towards me and cupped my face, “I’m so sorry, baby.” His forehead rested on mine. I looked up at him, our eyes met and he leaned closer to me. I leaned up and our lips met softly.
He pulled back and looked at me. Tears in his eyes and tears in mine. His hands moved into my hair and pulled me closer to him and his lips crashed on mine again. The weeks of separation, the anger, the pain, all slipping away.
We pulled apart when we heard someone clear their throat. We looked at the door and saw Sam. “Well I see therapy is going well.” He chuckled. “Actually yes. We have homework that we need to talk to you and the kids about. First, my beautiful wife is moving back into our room with me.”
I grabbed my things and walked past Dean and Sam. Sam smiled at me as I walked past and he squeezed my shoulder.
Walking into my shared bedroom with Dean I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I felt more of the shattered pieces coming back together.
“Okay guys, we need to talk to you all about the homework our therapist gave us. She wants mom and I to go on a long weekend away. Just the two of us to refocus and work on us, our marriage. So Sammy, if you don’t mind could you keep an eye on them?”
“Yes, of course.” Jody looked at us and smiled, “Well guys, you’re welcome to use the cabin if you want, and I’ll keep an eye on the kids when Sammy can’t.”
I hugged her, “Thank you. The cabin sounds great.” Delilah smiled and looked at Sam and then at Charlie.
“We will figure out a good time for everyone so we can get away. I want to make sure schedules are lined up so nobody is inconvenienced.”
Sam stepped closer to me, “Y/N, what would inconvenience us the most is if you and Dean separate. Y’all should go this weekend. That gives you a few days to get things in order.” I nodded.
Once it was settled I walked into the kitchen to start cooking dinner. Dean came in and leaned against the doorframe watching me. I was standing at the stove when I felt his arms snake around my waist. “Is this too much too fast? I can let go if you want me to.” “No, Dean. It’s perfect.” I leaned back into him.
My heart beat wildly in my chest. I craved him. He spun me around to face him and he tilted my chin up, “I will always love you. You are the love of my life and I am so thankful you’re my wife, my partner, the mother of my children. Thank you for giving me a beautiful little girl and a devilishly handsome son. I will spend the rest of my life trying to be the man you deserve.”
Delilah stood at the door and watched us. She loved watching us and seeing the love between us. Her heart ached at the pain there was between us and she was determined to help fix it. Knowing our love story, and how we needed to get away she talked to Sam and Jody about recreating the magic of that weekend where Dean and I fell in love. Sam and Jody were all for it. Charlie offered to help too.
Jody and Sam went ahead to the cabin and got it ready. They met with the local florist to have flowers delivered to the cabin the day we were supposed to arrive.
Dean helped me finish cooking dinner and the four of us sat at the table like we used to. I couldn’t help but smile looking around the table.
“So daddy, can we have a movie night like we used to?” Delilah asked, batting her eyes at Dean. He chuckled, “Yeah, pumpkin. That sounds perfect.”
The four of us sat around eating and talked. Delilah said she was glad I was back home where I belonged. “I am too baby. I missed you three so much.” Dean lifted his eyes and looked at me. He smiled softly.
Delilah took notice and looked at Charlie, “Hey rugrat, let’s go get the cave ready for movie night.” “But I’m not done eating.” “Bring it with you.” She said more sternly. She glanced between Dean and I and Charlie nodded.
He grabbed his burger and headed out of the kitchen with Delilah.
Dean and I chuckled. “She’s not subtle.” He smirked, “No she’s not. I wonder where she got that from?” “Her daddy and Uncle Sammy.” Dean laughed. That deep, head tilted back, full of joy, belly laugh that I missed.
“I missed this, Dean.” “Me too sweetheart.” “I’m going to clean up the kitchen before we start the movie. I should be long.”
I stood and Dean stood. He took my hand in his, “Y/N, tell me we will get through this. I can’t lose you.”
I took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, “Dean, we will get through this as long as we’re both willing to put in the work. This, tonight, is a big step in the right direction.”
He nodded and cupped my face, “We were interrupted earlier. Care to continue what we started?”
His green eyes sparkled like emeralds in the sunlight. I smiled and leaned close to him. I placed my lips softly on his and my hands found the back of his neck. Dean sighed against my lips. Each time we kiss feels like parts of the cracks start to heal.
The two of us finished cleaning the kitchen and made our way to the Dean cave holding hands. Charlie and Delilah saw us holding hands and exchanged smiles.
Settling in for a movie, Dean offered me his arm and I slid in next to him. A small olive branch to help mend our relationship. He kissed my head and pulled me close. His fingers draw delicate patterns on my skin.
Delilah was on his other side. Her usual place since the day she was born. Even as she’s gotten older, her relationship with Dean has gotten stronger. It has changed to grow with her, but there will never come a day where she won’t need him.
Even in the midst of all of this pain, I am thankful she and Charlie see us working hard at mending our relationship, not just throwing it away. She’s been able to see Dean as a protector and a fighter, and someone who will always be there for her.
I looked over near the end of the movie and saw Charlie asleep on the floor and Delilah asleep against Dean. Dean’s eyes were closed too, his lips slightly parted like he was asleep. I smiled and started to get up slowly.
With his eyes closed he smirked, “Where are you going?”
I giggled, “I’m going to get blankets to cover the three of you up.” “I’m not asleep, besides, I’m not missing the first night of you back in our bed.” I chuckled softly, “Fair enough, but I need to cover them up before we do.”
I stood and he slipped off the couch, carefully laying Delilah down. We grabbed blankets and put them on the kids. Dean turned off the tv and the light.
We went to our bedroom. The door closes behind Dean with a click. I walked to my dresser and pulled out some clean underwear, and an oversized shirt. “I’m going to jump in the shower before bed.” Dean smirked, “Okay sweetheart. Enjoy.” I nodded and walked into the bathroom. Part of me wanted Dean to come in and the other part knew it wasn’t a good idea yet. We still had so much work to do before we had sex again. No matter how much I wanted it.
When I finished my shower I walked into the bedroom and saw Dean leaning against the headboard. He was shirtless and in his gray sweatpants. The ones that drive me crazy without him even trying. He smiled at me as I bit my lip. “Did you enjoy your shower, sweetheart?” “Yeah, I did. It was great.”
He pulled the blanket back on my side and motioned for me to slide in. I climbed in the bed and he slid down, taking me in his arms. “Baby, I hope you know I’m not expecting anything. I’m just glad you’re back where you belong. Sleeping right next to me.”
“I know, Dean. I’ve missed sleeping here. I love you and I know you’re not expecting anything. I do want you, more than anything, but I think we should wait.” He nodded his head in understanding. “Come on sweetheart, let’s get some sleep.” I nodded and snuggled closer to his side.
Drifting off to a better sleep. Better than I’ve had in a while.
The next morning Dean and I were packing and planning our trip. I was excited and a little nervous. Dean and I hadn’t been on a trip alone since before Delilah was born.
“Okay, so you two are going to be okay with Uncle Sammy and Aunt Jody? You have everything you need, right?”
Delilah smiled, “Relax mom. We are going to be just fine. You and dad need to focus on you two. Don’t worry about us. We are in very capable hands.” I nodded.
Dean carried out bags out and I noticed the way his biceps flexed under his shirt as he walked past.
My breath hitched and I licked my lips. Delilah smirked, “Dad’s a total babe, isn’t he mom?” My head spun and I looked at her. My face flushed red, “Delilah Rose!” “What?! I can see how you look at him mom. I hope one day I have a love as great as you two have.”
I cupped her face, “You will sweetie, I promise.”
Dean walked in and said “She will what?” Before I could answer Delilah smirked and said “Oh a husband that’s a total babe like you so I can undress him with my eyes like mom just did you.”
Dean laughed loudly and I covered my face. “That is not what I said.” “You didn’t have to mom.” She winked at me.
Dean flashed a smile at me and walked over, taking me in his arms, “You were undressing me, were you?” I hid my face in his chest. He smiled as he pulled me close.
We said our goodbyes and we took off in the Impala. Dean grabbed my hand and interlaced our fingers. “Ready sweetheart?” I nodded and he hit the gas.
As we drove closer to the cabin, memories of that weekend played in my mind like a silent movie. I looked out the window and over at Dean and smiled. He’d steal glances at me and his memories of that weekend ran through his head too.
Since that weekend, we’d been through so much, getting married, having babies, raising them, now we were faced with the prospect of our marriage not surviving if we didn’t put in the work.
Dean was willing to do whatever it took to keep his marriage going.
I was staring out the window and saw our favorite take out place. Dean saw it too and pulled in. I smiled.
“Should we eat here or get it to go?” I asked softly. “I think we should get it to go.” I nodded.
We walked in and ordered the food. Not much had changed in the restaurant. More dust covered items hanging from the wall, the carpet was worn, but the woman behind the register was just as sweet as she had been.
She remembered Dean and I and asked how we had been. Dean beamed with pride when he told her about the kids and how we were getting away for a romantic weekend, just the two of us.
She smiled, nodded and held up her finger. Dean and I shared a confused look.
She returned with a small bamboo plant and handed it to Dean. “This is for good fortune, growth and resilience. You two will be okay. I see love. Strong love.” She smiled at us and Dean thanked her.
A few minutes later we were back in the car with the food.
I sat with the plant in my hand thinking about her words. She was right, there was definitely strong love still there.
We pulled up at the cabin as the sun was beginning to set. Dean and I started to carry things in and as we walked in I gasped.
There were blankets spread out on the floor, battery operated candles everywhere, and beautiful flowers on the counter. I looked at Dean and smiled.
Walking to the kitchen I put the food down and grabbed the card attached to the flowers. I read it and smiled. “What does it say sweetheart?”
I read it out loud: “Mom and Dad, we hope you love the flowers and the blankets. We want you two to be as comfortable as possible while you’re falling in love again. We love you both. Love Delilah and Charlie.”
Dean smiled, “Those sneaks. I bet Sammy and Jody had a hand in this too.” I smiled, “probably.”
We unpacked the food and Dean carried it to the blankets. “I’m gonna start a fire.” He stood and grabbed some wood. “Huh, there isn’t enough for the whole weekend. I’ll have to chop some tomorrow.” I giggled, “I wouldn’t mind seeing that.”
Dean looked at me and smirked, “Well then I guess I better put on a show then.” I touched his arm, “I can’t wait.”
We ate dinner and talked. Remembering the therapist’s advice about talking about us and not focusing all our energy on the kids. At first it was hard but we eventually started talking about us and how we fix our relationship. We laughed and we cried.
Dean stood and walked over to the record player. He turned on Led Zeppelin’s Since I’ve Been Loving You. He offered me his hand and I stood and took it.
We swayed and he held me tight as he sang along to the lyrics. As the song ended he dipped me and I smiled. “We made it without falling this time.” “Oh sweetheart, I never stopped falling.”
My heart fluttered and I gasped softly. Dean leaned forward and kissed my lips.
Lifting me up he walked me backwards towards the blankets that covered the ground. The light of the fire casting shadows around the room.
He gently laid me down and hovered over me. “You’re more beautiful than the first time we were here. You’ve given me an incredible life and two amazing children. I love you more than anything. I’ve loved you since the minute I laid eyes on you and I still can’t believe you chose me.”
I looked up at him. His eyes full of love and regret. Dean leaned down and slowly kissed my lips. The kiss healing more of the cracks in the foundation of our love. I knew he was sorry and he regretted everything he said. It still hurt, but our love was worth fighting for. He was worth fighting for.
My hands found the back of his neck and I pulled him down. The kiss between us turned heavy and needy quickly.
Dean’s hand slipped down and to the hem of my shirt. He stopped and I nodded against his lips.
His hand slid under my shirt and left a trail of goosebumps in its wake.
Within minutes our clothes were discarded and Dean was hovering over me with lust filled eyes. His eyes scanned mine for any sign of hesitation. I saw his question and cupped his face, leaned up and kissed his lips. “Dean, I’m ready if you are. I love you and I want you.”
The look in his eyes quickly changed back to need and want. Positioning himself between my thighs he lifted my legs and pushed in slowly.
My fingers grabbed his biceps and my head tilted back as I moaned his name.
His head found the crook of my neck as he stilled. “Baby you feel so good.”
We made love over and over until we were both exhausted.
“Dean, that was incredible.” I rolled over and kissed his lips. “Baby, I love you so much and I’m so sorry I hurt you. You didn’t deserve anything I said to you. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had left me for good.”
I placed my hand on his cheek, “Dean Winchester, you are the love of my life. Yes you can be an ass sometimes, but I could never nor would I ever leave you. I understand why you did it and I forgive you.”
Dean’s eyes filled with tears and they silently fell. “I don’t deserve you, sweetheart.” “Yes you do. You deserve me, our children, Bubbles, and the beautiful life we’ve built together. Don’t ever forget that. You saved the world. So you, Dean Winchester deserve so much more.”
Dean pulled me in his arms and threw a blanket over us. “Want to sleep out here tonight?” I snuggled closer and nodded, “I’m quite comfortable right here.”
The two of us fell asleep, our bodies tangled together in front of the orange glow of the fire.
The next morning we woke up to the sounds of the birds singing and the sun shining through the large ceiling to floor windows.
Dean stretched and looked at me. “Good morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” I smiled, “Better than I have in a very long time.” He kissed my lips, “Me too, baby. Well I better go chop some firewood. Want to watch?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I smiled.
“You better believe it.” I giggled as I stood up with the blanket wrapped around me. “First I’m going to take a shower. Want to join me?”
He grinned and as I took off down the hall he came bounding behind me. Our laughter and giggles filled the cabin. When Dean caught up to me he pulled me in his arms and kissed me. Our chests rising and falling, trying to catch our breath. “Sweetheart, I love hearing you laugh. It’s been too long since I was the cause of it. Thank you for not giving up on me or us. I love you.” I placed my hands on his firm chest, “Dean I’ll never give up on you or us. I love you too.”
Back at Jody’s house the kids were settling in for the weekend. They decided to hang with Jody and the girls since Sammy and Eileen were working late. Jody noticed Delilah was very quiet over breakfast and pulled her to the side to talk to her.
She hadn’t had a chance to talk to her alone since all the stuff happened with Jaxon and Adam.
Delilah was sitting on the bed in the guest room and was on her phone. Jody knocked on the door, “Hey sweetie. Can I come in?” Delilah nodded.
“How are you doing, baby girl? I know a lot has happened lately.” Delilah shrugged, “I guess I’m okay. I just feel so guilty mom and dad are having problems. This almost broke them. They have always been so in love and they almost split up because of me.” Her tears started to fall.
Jody grabbed her hand, “Hey, no. This isn’t your fault. None of this was your fault. I don’t care if you snuck out and danced naked in the streets, he had no right to put his hands on you. Neither one of them did. As far as your parents, sweetie, they will work it out. I’ve known your dad for years and he can be a jackass sometimes, but he is head over heels in love with your mother. He’s going to do whatever he has to in order to make it right.”
Delilah took a deep breath, “Thank you, Aunt Jody. This is just so hard.” “I know honey. I went through the same thing. I was about twenty and went to a friend's party. I remember getting a drink, and then the next thing I remember was waking up to a boy on top of me. I screamed and fought, but I passed out again. The next morning I woke up naked and bruised. I was so ashamed, but therapy and a great family helped me through it. You have that right here. So many people love you and are here for you. You’ve got this sweetie. After all, you’re a Winchester.”
Delilah smiled and hugged Jody. “Thank you, Aunt Jody. Thank you for telling me and reminding me what I have.”
Sam had stopped by to check on the kids and to make sure they had everything they needed. Charlie asked Sam if he could talk to him for a minute and Sam nodded.
Sam and Charlie went outside and sat on the porch. “What’s up buddy?” “Uncle Sam, no one will tell me exactly what happened to Delilah. All I know is it was really bad. I just want to know so I can help her.”
“I get it bud, but it’s not my place to tell you. Just be there for her and help her when she asks for it.” Charlie nodded, “Okay. Thanks Uncle Sammy.”
Sam ruffled Charlie’s hair, “Anytime buddy.” They stood up and as they got to the door Charlie turned and looked back at Sam, “Uncle Sammy, I might not know exactly what happened to Delilah, but I can promise you nothing will ever hurt her again. I’ll make sure of that.”
Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.
Tags:
@nescaveckwriter @kr804573
@k-slla @jackles010378
@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx
@roseblue373 @cheynovak
@jassackles @chriszgirl92
@suckitands33 @arcannaa
@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78
@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27
@manicjk @stoneyggirl2
@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi
@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87
@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld
@nancymcl @baby19sthings
@cheekygirl2309 @oceean
@kindollss @foxyjwls007
@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove
@spxideyver @reignsboy19
@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy
@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75
@superrey @kamisobsessed
@obliviousap @ninii-winchester
@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny
@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn
@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98
@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen
@mandee7 @barnes70stark
@spnaquakindgdom @djs8891
@pughsexual @spnaquakindgdom
@lunaleah @amberlthomas
36 notes
·
View notes
Note
Something about annabeth getting really angry after the war about people having previously spat spy allegations and call her crazy for still believing in Luke...only for her words being the one to get throught to him and reader and percy having to calm her down after she snaps at Clarisse since Clarisse is the one dating an ex traitor, her father was with kronos at first and her calling silena a hero but being pissy about Luke when Annabeth just wants to grieve him in peace.
pairing: annabeth chase x reader x percy jackson
tw: mentions of death, grieving, not proof read
a/n: i’ve never written angst before so im sorry if it’s not good!
˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖
watching luke die was hard. and yeah, luke was technically a bad person, but that didn’t mean annabeth wanted to see him die. she still cared.
clarrise and annabeth had never exactly been friends, but they usually could keep their calm.
well, not today.
annabeth was already having a hard enough day, with the things other campers were saying about her.
of course, you and percy had usually sent them death glares, shutting them up. but their words still angered annabeth, even if she acted like she wasn’t effected.
but she lost it when she heard clarrise.
“i mean seriously- luke was a fucking monster, and she still cried over him! maybe she’s just as insane as h-“
“shut up!” annabeth snapped, “you dated a traitor too! and your father- don’t even get me started on him.” she glared. if looks could kill, clarrise would be six feet under.
“silena was a hero!” clarrise yelled back, squaring up to annabeth.
annabeth started to pull her dagger out when percy grabbed her arm, leading her away from the scene.
you glared at clarrise before following annabeth and percy into percy’s cabin.
you shut the door behind you before pulling annabeth into a hug. “ignore her. she doesn’t know a thing about you.”
percy nodded, “she’s an idiot.”
annabeth sighed, letting her head rest on your shoulder while percy rubbed her back.
“i feel so fucking stupid-“ she mumbled, tears starting to form in her blue eyes.
“you are anything but stupid.” percy replied, kissing her shoulder.
you smiled softly, “that might not say a lot coming from him, but i also think your a genius. you loved luke, he was basically your brother. you don’t need to feel sorry being sad.”
percy shot you a jokingly offended look before kissing annabeth’s head softly, pulling both you and annabeth into a hug.
“you deserve to be able to grieve him in peace, wise girl.”
annabeth nodded, wiping her eyes. “thank you. both of you.”
you smiled softly, “it’s what we’re here for, love.”
#pjo fandom#annabeth chase x reader#percy jackson x reader#percabeth#annabeth chase#hurt/comfort#x reader#annabeth chase x reader x percy jackson
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
matthew fairchild it should have been you.
#saying this out of anger and sadness i don’t mean it.#except that i do.#chain of thorns spoilers#tlh lb#when i actually get to this point in the book i’m going to kill myself. frankly.
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
that’s really the core of lucifer, i suppose. he knows that something horribly, desperately, unspeakably wrong was done to him. and god did that. so. there’s nothing that can be done but to accept it as it is.
#there’s something about how lucifer is barely. angry. in s5. right?#or like. not outwardly. not explosively. she’s bitter and resentful and mean. but she’s not. she’s not really Angry.#doesn’t yell. only lashes out when provoked (<- thinking of hammer of the gods gabriel scene.) she’s just. doing what she knows she has to.#but at the same time when she talks to sam she tells him to stay angry. tells him she’ll need that anger.#tells nick that god wronged him. tells sam to get angry. and she’s. i don’t know how to put it exactly.#it just stands out to me is all. that lucifer is primarily just sad. that the times that breaks aren’t for her to get furious but for her to#be a little silly. a little joyful. a little indulgent. you know its the flip between genuine sadness over the grave in carthage to smiling#when he tells sam ‘don’t go anywhere! not that you could if you wanted to!’ its the offering of demons for sam to kill and the star wars#reference.#lucifer knows she never really got out of the cage in s5. is what i think im saying.#but at least it got a little bigger for her before she gets put down.#lucifer spn
36 notes
·
View notes
Text
.
Worst part of trades is when someone from another team comes in and is like “take care of my boy uwu I love him 🥺” like they didn’t just walk into a room full of screaming, shattered glass, and multiple small fires ala that one community gif. Like we’re over here screaming and crying about the trade, and cursing out both gms, every one in the front office, and every other player involved in the trade for taking away our beloved boy(s). Read the fucking room first. Yes I’d love to love and respect the new boy but please I need to finish with the five stages of rage, grief, and mourning for the players I just lost.
#I know it’s their way of coping it just pisses me off#and this is a vent post#fuck trades#venting#yeah this one is actually discourse so we’re not doing reblogs#like I know folks mean well and it comes from a good place#but god sometimes I just want to scream at someone to read the goddamned room#this was so much fucking worse in blaseball when you couldn’t say a bad word about it due to the toxic positive atomosphere#you just had to grin in bare it and try not to offend when someone came in to love bomb the team about how much they’re gonna miss their gu#and you just want to scream until your throat is bloody about how much you miss your guy and you fucking want him back#so yeah idk I’m not thinking about the fans of the other team or treating my guys well cause honestly I’d wanna curse them out if I saw the#no fault of their own but they’re an available target and it’s not like either gm is here on tumblr for me to unleash my anger#just gonna stay in my lane and on my own blog so I don’t do anything ill regret#please don’t give me platitudes I told my mutual of the team that I’m this close to committing violence and they said ‘yeah fair’#so like that’s a trusted friend who knows me from best to worst#just let me be mad and petty and sad and upset I gonna fucking miss dragon and doc so fucking much#I don’t want to have to be gentle with a strangers feelings when I can’t even be gentle with my own - that kind of masking fucking sucks
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
not to be a downer but I am suuuuuuper worried that because Hunter is going through it and is pissed he's going to say something to Echo blaming him for what happened to Tech.
I am not prepared for that kind of pain.
#like in a moment out of anger and I don’t think he will mean it#but still#Like I don't want it to happen#but I can see it happening#saw plenty of people blaming Echo for even coming to see them and coming for help with intel#and now I have a new fear that is unlocked#I would probably lose my mind with absolute sorrow if this happened#It's just like... how separate Echo was from Hunter and Wrecker at the end in the last scene#it got me thinking#and the thoughts were not nice#haha this would never happen#right?#someone tell me it won't happen#pls#he's already probably feeling so guilty#and so sad#and having a part of his family blame him and say it out loud to him would break his heart and I can not handle that#honestly maybe it is because I am a writer who loooooves angst#and my current series contains so much family drama#the bad batch#tbb echo#tbb hunter#tbb tech#echo bad batch#tech bad batch#hunter bad batch
28 notes
·
View notes
Note
YOU LIKE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA!!
what is your favourite song omgomg
OMG DONT MAKE ME CHOOOOOOOOOOSE
Obvi the title song slaps, All I Ask of You is so sweet, Think of Me makes me jealous of sopranos cuz I can’t sing all the high notes, Prima Donna is fun, Music of the Night uhh did things to me lol, Angel of Music is so soothing, and Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again made me tear up a bit.
I can’t narrow it down to just one, so imma say my top three are:
Music of the Night (especiallyyyyy the Ramin Karimloo version from the 25th anniversary)
Phantom of the Opera (nuff said)
and Point of No Return (the movie version)
It’s so good to see a fellow Phan!!!!! 🤩🤩🤩
#I was absolutely infatuated with The Phantom after I watched the movie (three times in a row)#I mean he checked all my boxes#aesthetic? check!#musical talent? check!#lives in a place with secret passageways? double check!#but then I had a dream where The Phantom was revealed to be my father and I think my brain was tryna tell me smth 💀💀💀#phantom of the opera#poto#man I was totally obsessed with this musical I even got to see it on Broadway before it closed!#I made an entire spreadsheet analysis on the different melodies and where they were used and what they meant#you know there’s one melody that always plays after the Phantom does or is mentioned to have done smth crazy or amazing#but then someone says or does smth that really just reminds the audience that the Phantom is not a demon or an Angel#he’s a human#I called the melody ‘true colors’ cuz idk what else to call it lol#it doesn’t have its own song it’s just used in spurts#its used after Erik gets after Christine for taking off his mask and Christine hands it back to him#(and we see him go from anger to vulnerability and then it plays)#and again in the preamble to All I Ask Of You when Christine goes#‘yet in his eyes / all the sadness of the world / those pleading eyes / that both threaten and adore’#(and we see Christine go from ‘he’s scary’ to ‘he’s wonderful’ to ‘oh u know what he’s sad and lonely’)#and more but I digress#anyways sorry that was a rant but I don’t really want to delete all that so there u go 😅#asks#Thanks for reaching out!! ❤️❤️❤️
5 notes
·
View notes
Text
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
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/163b4766b8a2a5ddacfe8a98eeacb3f4/60771ecc43e282c4-3f/s540x810/b732e91e6d1a6a43de75566a2a72c68b6ef0af75.jpg)
liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,027,537 others
yourinstagram p6 in zandvoort ! happy to see max on the podium for his home race. see you soon monza 🇮🇹
view all comments
username1 LEGEND
username2 p6 with that tractor feels like a podium finish fr
username3 give your seat to danny already
oscarpiastri Well done stinks 👊
↳ logansargeant Don’t praise her, her ego gets inflated
↳ username2 BEST TRIO ON THE GRID
↳ yourinstagram you’re both so jealous of me
redbullracing Keep pushing ! 💙
↳ username1 FIX HER FUCKING CAR
username4 p6 in a redbull? just hand the seat to someone more deserving
francolapinto Amazing 🙌🙌
↳ username2 franco is such a fannn
danielricciardo Proud of you 👌👌
↳ username1 haters want to create this beef between yn and danny for the seat but him adores her
maxverstappen1 Look she’s a nice teammate
↳ yourinstagram you adore me 😤
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f2bb542e3ab4536f3f49df444a2c4308/60771ecc43e282c4-69/s540x810/0617adabf0d85dff9ba224f4bd3709ee187dbc58.jpg)
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
A knot forms in your stomach as you read the messages. Something about the tone doesn't sit right with you. You quickly head towards Logan's motorhome, your mind racing and your axiety creeping in.
When you arrive, Oscar is already there, leaning against the wall with a concerned expression. Logan sits on the couch, his shoulders slumped and his gaze fixed on the floor.
"Logan?" you ask softly, stepping into the room. "What's going on?"
He looks up at you, then at Oscar, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and resignation. "I… I'm not coming back for the next race," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
You feel like you've been punched in the gut. Deep down, a part of you had known this was coming. Rumors in the paddock spread faster than a Formula 1 car on a straight, and there had been whispers about Logan's seat for weeks. But you hadn't wanted to believe it. You'd pushed those thoughts aside, convinced that if you just ignored them, they wouldn't come true.
"What? What do you mean you're not coming back?"
Oscar pushes off the wall, his brow furrowed. "Mate, what happened?"
Logan takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Williams… they're replacing me. I'm out."
The room falls silent for a moment as the news sinks in. Then, all at once, you feel a surge of anger coursing through your veins.
"They can't do that!" you exclaim, your voice rising. "It's mid-season! You've been improving, you've been working so hard. How can they just… just throw you away like this?"
Logan shrugs, a bitter smile on his face. "Apparently, they can. And they have."
A wave of emotions come crashing to you. Anger at Williams for their decision, frustration at the ruthless nature of the sport, and an overwhelming sadness for Logan.
Oscar moves to sit beside Logan, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry, mate. This is bullshit."
You start pacing the room, your anger building with each step. "Who are they replacing you with? Some pay driver? Some rookie who's never even touched an F1 car?"
"Franco Colapinto," Logan says quietly.
You stop in your tracks, whirling to face him. "Colapinto? The F2 kid? Are they out of their minds?"
Oscar tries to interject, his voice calm. "YN, maybe we should-"
But you're too fired up to listen. "No, Oscar! This is wrong. It's so wrong. Logan deserves better than this. He deserves a chance to prove himself. How is he supposed to do that if they don't even give him a full season?"
Logan looks up at you, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes. "I appreciate you having my back, stinks. But it's done. There's nothing we can do about it now."
You shake your head. "No, there has to be something. They can't just replace you with some F2 kid like that. They're out of their minds."
"YN," Oscar cuts in firmly. "I know you're angry. We all are. But right now, we need to be here for Logan. This isn't about us or what we think is fair. It's about supporting our friend."
As Oscar's words sink in, you feel a wave of guilt wash over you. He's right, of course. This isn't about your anger or your sense of injustice. It's about Logan, your friend who's just had his dream ripped away from him.
The three of you have been racing together since you were kids, climbing through the ranks side by side. You've shared victories and defeats, laughter and tears. You've pushed each other to be better, to chase your dreams relentlessly. And now, one of you is being left behind.
You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "I just… I can't believe this is happening."
Logan manages a small smile. "It's okay, stinks. I appreciate your passion. It's one of the things I've always admired about you."
"Remember when we were in karting, and YN nearly got into a fist fight with that kid who tried to push Logan off the track?" Oscar says with a small smile, trying to light up the mood.
"How could I forget?" +
Logan chuckles softly, "She was like a tiny ball of fury."
You feel a smile tugging at your lips despite the situation. "Hey, nobody messes with my boys and gets away with it."
"And nothing's changed," Oscar adds, giving you a fond look. "We've always had each other's backs, through everything. This is not the exception."
Without another word, the three of you come together in a tight group hug, a physical representation of the bond you've shared for so many years.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7b6357e87d18aa7e04c44652c59f8cdf/60771ecc43e282c4-59/s540x810/63993f3beb81f580ef286d619105dea21b94b564.jpg)
liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 2,017,697 others
yourinstagram logan, you’re more than just a friend — you’re family. we’ve raced together since we were kids, dreaming of f1. to see that dream cut short for you is heartbreaking
your talent, dedication and kindness have always shone through. you deserved better than this mid-season swap. this sport can be cruel, but this feels especially unfair and i’m angry that my friend’s journey has been interrupted
but i’m also incredibly proud of you, logan. you have handled this with grace and strength and this isn’t the end for you — it’s just a detour. love you, stinks 🥲
view all comments
username1 IM SOBBING
username2 i still can’t believe this
username3 well hold your tears because you’re next
pierregasly Chin up, mate @/logansargeant you’re a champ 👊
alex_albon You will always be family @/logansargeant, It’s so sad to see you go
username4 that was cute now hand your seat to daniel or yuki
username5 THE FIRST PIC 🥺🥺 IM NOT OKAY
username6 oh she’s PISSED
username7 this is so unfair for logan
username8 colapinto has an enemy on track already and it’s her 😭
username9 the best trio will be incomplete now i’m not okay
username10 YOU NEXT BYE BYE
logansargeant Thank you for everything, go make me proud 💙
↳ username1 IM SOBBING AGAIN
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/af82755909ba62db2bd29c858a3fd4fd/60771ecc43e282c4-a8/s540x810/be3ee1d28a967ed830ec6b9e8f24c57f23f28ffe.jpg)
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 ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/63e55d27fb07729325a6017b98b93afa/60771ecc43e282c4-14/s540x810/af2f61f5ecaa1f70d86339d6625b67c782cf3f8a.jpg)
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The sun beats down as you stand next to Oscar on the flatbed truck, waiting for the drivers' parade to begin. The usual buzz of excitement surrounding Monza feels muted to you, overshadowed still by Logan's absence and the presence of his replacement.
"Oi, what's with the long face?" Oscar nudges you playfully with his elbow. "You look like someone stole your last Tim Tam."
"Oh shut up, you dork," you can't help but crack a small smile, "As if I'd ever let anyone near my precious Tim Tams."
"Too right," Oscar grins. "But seriously, how are you holding up?"
You shrug, trying to keep your expression neutral for the cameras. "Oh, you know, just peachy. Nothing like a bit of midseason drama to spice things up, right?"
"Always the optimist, aren't you?" Oscar rolls his eyes, "Come on, I bet you twenty quid you can't name all the Italian F1 circuits without googling."
"You're on, Piastri," you say, grateful for the distraction. "Monza, Imola, Mugello…"
As you're racking your brain for more, you notice Franco Colapinto approaching. Your playful mood evaporates instantly.
Franco's eyes widen as he gets closer, clearly starstruck. "Uh, hi," he says nervously. "I'm Franco. I just wanted to introduce myself."
Oscar, ever the diplomat, smiles and extends his hand. "Hey mate, welcome to F1. I'm Oscar."
Franco shakes his hand before turning to you, his expression one of barely contained awe. "And you're YN. I… I can't believe I'm actually meeting you. You're such an inspiration. The way you've broken barriers in this sport, it's incredible. I've followed your career since your F3 days and-"
You cut him off, your voice cool. "Thanks. Welcome to the grid."
Franco's smile falters, but he presses on. "I just wanted to say how much I admire what you've accomplished. You've paved the way for so many young drivers, especially women in motorsport. It's an honor to be racing alongside you."
You nod stiffly. "Thanks," you repeat, your tone making it clear that you're not interested in continuing the conversation.
An awkward silence falls over the group. Oscar, sensing the tension, tries to smooth things over. "So, Franco, how are you finding the step up to F1 so far?"
As Franco turns to answer Oscar, you take the opportunity to step away, moving to the other side of the truck. You can feel Oscar's gaze following you, but you can't bring yourself to engage in small talk with Logan's replacement, no matter how well-intentioned he might be.
As you're standing alone, Alex approaches, a sympathetic smile on his face. "Hey, mind if I join you?"
You shrug. "Free country, Albon. Or free truck, I guess."
Alex chuckles softly. "How are you doing? I know this can't be easy for you."
You sigh, your guard dropping slightly with Alex. "It's… complicated. I'm angry for Logan, but I know it's not Franco's fault. It's just…"
"It's the reality of the sport we're in," Alex finishes for you. "Trust me, I get it. Been there, done that, got the Red Bull rejection t-shirt."
Your stomach twists at the mention of that, suddenly remembering the endless conversations and warnings from your team. And how despite having a contract for next season, there's threats about your seat being take away after every race weekend. But you push the thought away.
"Always the comedian, aren't you?"
"Someone's got to keep the mood light around here," Alex grins. "But seriously, I know it's tough. Franco's a good kid, though. He's been working really hard, trying to learn as much as he can."
You nod, not quite ready to let go of your resentment but appreciating Alex's perspective. "How's he settling in?"
"As well as can be expected," Alex says. "He's got a lot to learn, but he's eager. It's a big step up from F2, but he's handling the pressure well so far."
You're about to respond when the parade starts moving. Alex gives you a supportive pat on the shoulder before moving back to his spot. As the truck rolls down the straight, the cheers of the Tifosi wash over you. You lift your hand to wave, a mix of emotions swirling inside you that go beyond just Logan's replacement.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bf039fd62dbe055f0a49cba6a5e4a61f/60771ecc43e282c4-54/s540x810/5a670ce1a1356c7cb4cbb426c74c8ce0de7c5f1f.jpg)
liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 1,638,578 others
yourinstagram p8. it is what it is. ciao monza 👋
view all comments
username1 you will always be the moment
username2 FIX THE FUCKING CAR ALREADY
username3 ouu shes DONEEE
username4 most undeserved seat on the grid i swear
username5 anyway RICBULL IS COMING
francolapinto Such a pleasure to race alongside you!
↳ username1 franco respects and admires her so much i love it
↳ username2 im pretty sure yn hates him tho
username6 the constructors championship is gone thanks to her
logansargeant Chin up, love you 💙
↳ username2 i miss them so much
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0a2af83683a9e54b47363fdfb45ad792/60771ecc43e282c4-f2/s540x810/158215cca8d20ed07fbcdfe1bceeadfa09d25d31.jpg)
liked by username1, username2 and 12,739 others
f1gossip YN arriving at Red Bull HQ in Milton Keynes
Tensions running high as rumors swirl about potential driver shake-ups. Sources say YN’s recent performance has bosses considering options
Is the Honey Badger eyeing a comeback or could young Liam Lawson be making the leap to F1? 🤔
view all comments
username1 bro...
username2 they better fix her car NOW
username3 RICBULL RICBULL
username4 honestly the best thing for the team would be her getting replaced
username5 YAAAS SHE'S OUT FINALLY
username6 oscar is the only 2023 rookie who actually puts in the work
username7 some people need to start putting some respect on yn's name bc yall keep forgetting she was third in the championship and got her first win during her ROOKIE SEASON and the reason she's struggling rn is bc redbull is not getting their shit together
↳ username1 right??? they're just saying shit
↳ username4 you said it yourself, she has a championship winning car and she's not delivering. she should be out
username8 YN GET BEHIND ME
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/a709843fa4ceb8051a2997b401ee7fad/60771ecc43e282c4-e2/s540x810/6e3cc4ef47dabc2d95938e36069b91c4050da61b.jpg)
liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,638,538 others
yourinstagram great quali, we should have some fun tomorrow 😚
view all comments
username1 SLAYYY
username2 p4 after all the nonsense surrounding her seat? feels right
username3 THE QUEEN OF BAKU FOR REAL
lilyzneimer my favorite supergirl 💙
username4 she got lucky
username5 don't care, we still want danny or liam in that seat
username6 enjoy the race bc it might be your last
username7 watch her on that podium tomorrow
logansargeant Super proud always
↳ username2 LOGAN WE MISSS YOUUUU
francolapinto 🤩
liked by username1, logansargeant and 270,847 others
redbullracing Solid race and a bunch of points for the team 👊
Result 🏁PIA, LEC, YN P3, NOR, Max P5, ALO, ALB, COL, HAM, BEA
#F1 #RedBullRacing #AzerbaijanGP
view all comments
username1 SO DAMN TRUE
username2 yn back on the podium FINALLY
username3 yn saw the rumors about her seat and decided to shut them up
username4 SHES BEATING MAX FINALLY
username5 did they finally fix the car
username6 i don't want anyone commenting on her seat anymore
username7 i knew she got into that care absolutely PISSED
username8 QUEEN OF BAKU
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0d6c80c2d8a52550b1719814cb8a8c66/60771ecc43e282c4-da/s540x810/83f180bd21e3207fde34461af575f4b8c8300558.jpg)
liked by oscarpiastri, francolapinto and 1,764,933 others
yourinstagram was that entertaining? 😙 so happy to be on the podium for osco's second win, i love you so muuuch you diva
view all comments
username1 LEGEND
username2 she's so smug
username3 TELL THEM QUEEEN
landonorris The third pic is definitely your best @/oscarpiastri
↳ yourinstagram IKR
↳ username1 I LOVE THEM
logansargeant Congrats to both of you @/oscarpiastri @/yourinstagram I'm always proud of everything you achieve ❤️
↳ username2 logan should be there too i'm sad now
↳ oscarpiastri Love you mate
↳ yourinstagram this paddock will never be the same without you
maxvertsappen1 🙌🙌 So proud of you little sister
oscarpiastri Love you stinks
francolapinto Congrats! Always an honor to race alongside you
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2d6dde609928bde2a552def02e01f383/60771ecc43e282c4-86/s1280x1920/56c437daa225a7330c67847948390d805815cd3e.jpg)
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The drivers' briefing has just concluded, and you find yourself lingering in the room, chatting with your friends.
"I swear, I almost peed my pants at that press conference!," Lando says, his eyes widening as he recalls, "When Max and YN just sat there in silence, staring down the journalists… I thought I was going to lose it!"
Pierre chuckles, giving you a knowing look. "I knew YN was the mastermind behind that. It has her written all over it."
"Well, someone had to make a point about these ridiculous penalties," you can't help but grin.
The group's laughter is interrupted as Franco approaches, a tentative smile on his face. "Hey guys, mind if I join?"
The others welcome him warmly, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach. You force a tight smile, trying to keep your emotions in check.
"Franco, mate!" George exclaims, patting him on the back. "That was some impressive driving in practice. You're settling in well."
Alex nods in agreement. "Yeah, you're really holding your own out there. Williams made a good choice."
You feel your jaw clench at Alex's words, but you remain silent, watching as Franco's face lights up with pride and gratitude.
"Thanks, guys," Franco says, his voice humble. "I still have a lot to learn, but I'm giving it my all."
"Well, it's paying off," Lando chimes in, "Points in just your second race? You're pushing that Williams harder than we've seen in a while."
As the conversation continues, with each driver offering praise and encouragement to Franco, you feel your frustration and anger building.
The memory of Logan's disappointment and unfairness of it all, mixed with the ever present threat of you seat having the same fate, bubbles up inside you until you can't contain it anymore.
"And what about Logan?" you snap, your voice cutting through the friendly chatter like a knife. The group falls silent, all eyes turning to you in surprise. Franco's smile fades, replaced by a look of discomfort and guilt.
"YN…" Oscar starts, his tone cautionary.
But you're too fired up to stop now. "No, seriously. Everyone's so quick to praise him, but what about Logan? He was improving every race, working his ass off, and for what? To be tossed aside mid-season?"
The atmosphere in the room becomes tense. George and Alex exchange uncomfortable glances, while Pierre shifts uneasily.
Franco, looking distressed, speaks up. "I never meant for Logan to lose his seat. I just took the opportunity when it was offered to me. Any driver would have done the same."
"Oh, so that makes it okay?" his words only fuel your anger. "You just 'took the opportunity'? Do you have any idea how hard Logan worked for that seat? How much he sacrificed?"
"YN, that's enough," Oscar says firmly, placing a hand on your arm.
But you shrug him off, your eyes blazing as you face Franco. "You waltz in here, taking a seat you didn't earn, and everyone's falling over themselves to congratulate you. It's not right. It's not fair."
The room falls into a shocked silence. Franco looks like he's been slapped, his earlier excitement completely deflated. The other drivers are staring at you with a mix of surprise and disapproval.
It's George who finally breaks the tension. "YN, I think we all understand you're upset about Logan. We all are. But this isn't Franco's fault. He's just trying to make the most of his chance, like any of us would."
You feel a flush of shame creeping up your neck, but your anger is still simmering. "You don't understand," you mutter, but the fight has gone out of your voice.
Franco, looking genuinely distressed, takes a step towards you. "I'm sorry about what happened to Logan. I really am. I have nothing but respect for him, and for you. I never wanted to cause any problems."
His sincerity catches you off guard, and for a moment, you see not the driver who replaced your friend, but a young, talented kid trying to navigate a difficult situation. However, your anger and frustration gets the best of you.
"Whatever," you mumble, pushing past the group and out of the room, leaving a stunned silence as you disappear.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7e1789331037525d508a447124826b80/60771ecc43e282c4-47/s540x810/6ffedc34f98ad5330febf7c90554d3afc7806694.jpg)
liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 709,639 others
francolapinto still buzzing from singapore 🇸🇬growing up watching Lewis battle in marina bay and now getting to race wheel to wheel with him... surreal doesn't even begin to cover it 🤯 and that fight with YN for position was proper racing - those last few laps were intense! thank you to the team for giving me a car that could fight at the front. vamos 💪
view all comments
username1 he’s an f1 driver now but he’ll always be a fanboy
lewishamilton Good racing kid, you've got a bright future ahead 👊🏾
williamsracing Our boy! 💙
username3 Did anyone else notice how aggressive YN was when overtaking Franco? Almost pushed him into the wall...
↳ username1 fr she looked like she wanted to crash him
↳ username4 they were racing for position, that's what racing drivers do 🙄
username5 the way he always mentions YN in his posts but she never acknowledges him 👀
username6 that move from YN was unnecessarily aggressive, could've ended badly
landonorris Great drive mate!
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4b4e28e4f5dd43b2930221e974bf6bc9/60771ecc43e282c4-a5/s540x810/fc8f9ef404176c893889c810bdf1ac59ad762db4.jpg)
liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 2,370,739 others
f1 BREAKING: Daniel Ricciardo to leave RB, the team have announced. Liam Lawson will race in place of Ricciardo for the remaining six races of the season for the team.
view all comments
username1 DANNY NOOOO
username2 this sucks man
danielricciardo Been a hell of a ride! Thank you RB family ❤️
maxverstappen1 Going to miss you mate!
username3 Wrong driver leaving... YN should be the one out
↳ username1 exactly! she's been underperforming all season
yourinstagram always grateful for everything you taught me DR. more than a driver - you've been a big brother, mentor, and friend since day one. going to miss our pre-race dance parties 🥺🤍
↳ username3 now give him your seat
↳ username1 it's no annoying to see that drivers like her have an undeserved contract extension and talented drivers get left out
↳ danielricciardo Love you kiddo! Make me proud
username5 Gutted to see Danny Ric go 💔
landonorris Won't be the same without you mate!
username7 @/yourinstagram Maybe focus more on racing than dancing 🙄
↳ username8 she's literally P5 in the championship, shut up
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
As you step off the plane in Florida, the warm air envelops you, a stark contrast to the crisp autumn weather you left behind in Europe. Your heart lightens as you spot Logan waiting for you, his familiar grin a welcome sight after weeks of tension and stress. You missed your best friend so much.
You rush towards him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. "I missed you so much," you say, your voice muffled against his shoulder. "That paddock sucks without you."
Logan chuckles, returning the hug with equal enthusiasm. "I missed you too, stinks." He pulls back, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Now, let's grab a beer since you're out of race cars for a while."
You nod eagerly, letting him lead the way. He drives you to a nearby bar, one you've learned over the years of knowing him was the one he used to go to during his teenage years. The casual atmosphere is a refreshing change from the high-pressure environment of the paddock. As you settle into a booth with cold beers in hand, you feel some of the tension from the past few months start to melt away.
"So, how's life outside the F1 bubble?" you ask, taking a sip of beer.
Logan grins, leaning back in his seat. "It's… different. But not all bad. Actually, I've got some news." He pauses for dramatic effect. "I've been in talks with a few IndyCar teams."
Your eyes widen with excitement. "Logan, that's fantastic! Tell me everything!"
For the next hour, Logan animatedly describes his meetings with IndyCar team principals, the tracks he's excited to race on, and the new challenges he's looking forward to. You listen intently, genuinely happy for your friend's potential new chapter.
"It's not F1," Logan admits, "but it's a hell of a racing series. And who knows? Maybe it'll lead me back to F1 someday."
"I have no doubt," you assure him, raising your bottle in a toast. "To new beginnings!"
As the conversation flows, you find yourself relaxing more than you have in months. You chat about mutual friends, swap funny stories from your junior racing days, and discuss the latest paddock gossip.
Eventually, Logan's expression turns a bit more serious. "So, Oscar's been keeping me updated on what's been going on in F1. Sounds like things have been… tense with Franco."
You feel your mood shift at the mention of Franco's name. "Yeah, you could say that," you mutter, taking a long swig of your beer.
Logan leans forward, his voice gentle but firm. "YN, I know you're upset on my behalf, but you can't keep this grudge going forever. Franco's just a kid trying to make his way in the sport, like we all were not too long ago."
"I know, I know. It's just," you sigh heavily, "Every time I see him in the garage, in your overalls, talking to your engineers… it feels wrong, Logan. Like he's stolen something that belongs to you."
"But he didn't steal anything," Logan counters. "The team made a decision. It sucks for me, yeah, but that's not on Franco. He just took an opportunity that was offered to him. Can you honestly say you wouldn't have done the same in his position?"
You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. Logan has a point, and you know it.
"Look," Logan continues, "I've had some time to process all this, and I've come to terms with it. It's a cutthroat sport, YN. We all know that. Franco's not the villain here."
"But the way it happened," you protest, "mid-season, with no warning. It wasn't fair to you."
"Fair doesn't always come into it in F1. It just happens," Logan shrugs, "Besides," he adds with a hint of a smile, "I hear he's doing a decent job. The kid's got talent."
"He's alright," you grudgingly admit. "But he's not you."
Logan laughs. "No one's me, stinks. I'm one of a kind."
You can't help but crack a smile at that. "True enough."
"So," Logan says, his tone turning serious again, "can you promise me you'll try to ease up on Franco? Give him a fair shot? For me?"
You sigh deeply, considering his words. "I'll try," you finally concede. "But I'm not promising to be his best friend or anything."
"That's all I ask," Logan says, looking relieved. "Now, is this just about Franco replacing me, or is there something else going on? You seem… I don't know, more on edge than usual."
For a moment, you consider telling him about the talks with Red Bull, about the uncertainty surrounding your own seat. The words are on the tip of your tongue, but something holds you back. Maybe it's not wanting to burden Logan with your problems, or maybe it's not being ready to voice your fears out loud.
"No, nothing else," you lie, forcing a smile. "Just the usual F1 stress, you know how it is."
Logan nods, though he doesn't look entirely convinced. "Well, if there ever is anything, you know you can talk to me, right? Even if I'm not in the paddock anymore."
"I know," you say, feeling a pang of guilt. "Thanks, Logan. Really."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d257572248558932d5d31cc744b35d2e/60771ecc43e282c4-fb/s540x810/37dbbf3e55573d0367806481915be299f89a58eb.jpg)
liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 1,289,673 others
yourinstagram florida !!! is one hell of a drug
view all comments
username1 AHHH she visited logan
logansargeant Next time we're doing the gator tour 🐊
↳ username2 i love them sm
oscarpiastri No invite for your favourite Aussie? Rude
↳ username2 we need the iconic trio together again
username3 they've been friends since forever, love how they support each other
username4 Logan and YN's friendship >>>>>
username5 Why is she on holiday when she should be working on her driving?
username6 the way logan always has her back 🥺
username7 surely there are better uses of time with 4 races left and her seat under threat?
francolapinto Amazing 🙌
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You arrive at the Red Bull hospitality area in Austin, the excitement of being back after the break palpable in the air. As you walk in, you spot Max lounging on one of the sofas, scrolling through his phone.
"Well, well, look who finally decided to show up," Max grins, looking up from his device. "Did you get lost in the Texas wilderness?"
You roll your eyes playfully, dropping your bag on a nearby chair. "Oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness. Did I keep you waiting? I was busy signing autographs for all my adoring fans. You know how it is… oh wait, you don't."
"Ouch, that hurt," Max clutches his chest in mock pain, "And here I was, about to show you something interesting, but now I'm not so sure you deserve it."
You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. The banter with Max always helps you relax before a race weekend, and you've missed this during the break. "Oh come on, spill it, Verstappen. You know you want to. Don't make me steal your phone."
Max chuckles and pats the seat next to him. "Alright, alright. Sit down before you hurt yourself trying to reach my phone."
As you sit down, he pulls up a video on his phone. "Check this out. It's an interview with your biggest fan."
It's an interview with Franco. Your initial instinct is to look away, a mix of guilt and stubbornness rising in your chest. But something in Max's expression makes you watch.
"Lewis Hamilton and YN are my biggest idols in F1," Franco is saying, his face earnest. "The way YN races, her dedication and skill, it's truly inspiring. She's broken so many barriers and shown that talent knows no gender. I feel honored just to be on the same grid as her."
As the interview continues, Franco heaps more praise on you, his admiration clear in every word. You feel a twinge of guilt, remembering how cold you've been towards him. The genuine respect in his voice makes you uncomfortable, forcing you to confront your own prejudices.
"Her overtake on Leclerc in Interlagos last year? That was pure brilliance," Franco continues. "I've watched that move countless times, trying to learn from it. YN's not just a great driver, she's changing the face of the sport. I hope one day I can race wheel-to-wheel with her and show her the respect she deserves on track."
Max turns off the video and looks at you expectantly. "I think you owe someone an apology," he says, his tone gentle but firm.
You nod slowly, the realization sinking in. A wave of shame washes over you as you remember your cold behavior towards Franco. "I think I do," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.
Max puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Hey, we all make mistakes. What matters is how we fix them. Franco's a good kid, and he really looks up to you. Maybe it's time to give him a chance?"
You sigh, running a hand through your hair. "I actually talked to Logan last week," you confess, watching Max's eyebrows rise in surprise. "He's doing well, actually - focusing on IndyCar now. But we talked a lot about… everything."
"Yeah?" Max shifts in his seat, clearly intrigued. It's not often you open up about these things.
"He basically told me I needed to stop fighting battles that weren't mine to fight. Said he appreciates me having his back, but Franco isn't the enemy here. He's just chasing his dream, like we all did. Logan said he remembers how it felt, getting his first chance - we all do."
Max nods thoughtfully. "Logan's right, you know. We've all been there at some point - getting an opportunity because someone else lost theirs. It's just how F1 works sometimes."
"I know," you admit, standing up. "And I've been unfair to Franco. He's actually doing a really good job with Williams, fighting in the midfield with a car that's not the easiest to drive. And here I am, making him feel unwelcome when I should be supporting talent. Some role model I am, right?"
"So what are you going to do about it?" Max asks, though his smile suggests he already knows.
You spot Franco heading towards the Williams hospitality area. "I'm going to make it right."
Walking over to Williams, you feel your heart pounding a little faster with each step. You find Franco sitting at one of the tables, going through data on his laptop with his race engineer.
"Franco?" you call out. "Could I steal you for a moment?"
He looks up, surprise evident on his face. "YN? Hi… yeah, of course." He glances at his engineer, who nods and excuses himself.
"Mind if I sit?" you ask, gesturing to the empty chair. When he nods, you take a deep breath. "I owe you an apology. A proper one."
Franco starts to shake his head, but you hold up a hand. "Please, let me finish. I've been unfair to you, and it wasn't right. I let my loyalty to Logan blind me to the fact that you're just a talented driver making the most of your opportunity. I've been cold, sometimes even hostile, and you didn't deserve any of that."
"I… thank you," Franco says quietly. "That means a lot. I want you to know, I reached out to Logan when-"
"I know," you interrupt gently. "He told me. That's partly why I'm here. You showed real class doing that, Franco. And you're doing a great job with the car. That P8 in Baku? That was proper racing."
A genuine smile breaks across his face. "Coming from you, that really means a lot. You know, I've watched your races since I was in F3. The way you fought through all the doubters, proved everyone wrong… you're really an inspiration."
You feel your throat tighten unexpectedly. "I had no idea."
"That's why your opinion means so much," Franco admits, fiddling with his water bottle. "When you seemed disappointed in me being here… it hurt, you know?"
"I'm sorry," you say again, meaning it more than ever. "How about we start fresh? Maybe you can talk me through that overtake in Baku - I noticed you used a similar line to what I did in Interlagos last year."
Franco's eyes light up. "You caught that? I actually studied your move while preparing for the race! The way you positioned the car on entry…"
You spend the next twenty minutes discussing racing lines and overtaking techniques, the earlier tension completely dissolved. Franco's enthusiasm is infectious, reminding you of your own early days in F1.
When you finally walk back to Max, you feel lighter than you have in months. He greets you with a knowing smile. "Feel better?"
"Much better," you admit. "Sometimes you need a kick in the right direction So thank you, I needed that wake-up call."
"Anytime," he smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulders, "Can't have my teammate being the paddock villain, can I? That's my job."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/03f5833305beedf5644bad5fbddd6c2f/60771ecc43e282c4-38/s540x810/a588581adf4e2b6ccfb3f433a5a3b0622eab436f.jpg)
Liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1 and 1,667,459 others
yourinstagram rookies keeping us on our toes 😤 good battles today @/francolapinto
view all comments
username1 THIS IS LEGENDARY
username3 franco is going to piss his pants
williamsracing Our rookie giving the Red Bull a run for their money 💙
username4 she shouldn’t be acknowledging that a rookie in a williams is making it hard for her… embarrasing
username5 the start of YN and Franco's friendship? 👀
username7 the tension between these two was getting old, glad they're friends now
username8 HANDLE YOUR SEAT
username8 MY DUO 😭❤️
francolapinto Next time I won’t make it easy for you!
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The private jet hums quietly through the night sky towards Mexico City. Most of the other drivers are asleep, exhausted from the intense Austin weekend. You find yourself unable to sleep, your mind still racing from the events of the day. Glancing around the dimly lit cabin, you notice Franco is also awake, absently flipping through a magazine.
Catching your eye, he gives you a warm smile and moves to the empty seat across from you. "Can't sleep either?"
"Too much adrenaline still," you admit, adjusting your position to face him better. "Great drive today, by the way. That point was well-deserved."
Franco's face lights up at the compliment. "Thanks! Though it's nothing compared to your battle with Lando. I was watching it from behind and thought 'there's no way she's going to make that stick' but then you just… did. It was incredible."
You laugh softly, careful not to wake the others. "There was a moment there where I wasn't sure either. But sometimes you just have to go for it, you know?"
"Oh, I know exactly what you mean," Franco grins. "Like that time in F3 when I tried to go around the outside at Spa and ended up practically in another timezone."
"Please tell me there's video of that," you snicker.
"Unfortunately for my dignity, yes. I think my engineer still uses it as an example of what not to do."
The conversation flows naturally, jumping from racing stories to childhood memories. You find yourself genuinely enjoying his company, something that would have seemed impossible just a few weeks ago.
"So what made you want to be a racing driver?" you ask, genuinely curious.
As Franco launches into how he found his passion for the sport, you find yourself really looking at him properly for the first time. The soft cabin lighting catches the angles of his face, and you notice details you'd overlooked before. His eyes are warm with flecks of gold, crinkling slightly at the corners when he smiles. There's a small scar above his right eyebrow, barely noticeable unless you're paying attention. His dark hair is slightly disheveled from the long race day, a few strands falling across his forehead.
You catch yourself thinking how handsome he actually is, in that classic way. His animated expressions as he talks about racing make him even more attractive, his passion for the sport evident in every gesture.
"...and that's when I knew I wanted to do this forever," he finishes, then looks slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to get carried away when talking about racing."
"No, don't apologize," you say quickly. "It's refreshing to see that kind of enthusiasm. Some of the guys get so jaded after a while."
Franco's smile turns a bit shy. "Speaking of enthusiasm, I'm really excited about racing in Mexico this weekend. It's one of my favorite cities - the atmosphere is just incredible."
"The fans are amazing there," you agree. "Though I still haven't found a really good place to eat in Mexico City. The hotel restaurant gets old pretty quickly."
Franco's eyes light up. "Oh, you have to let me help with that! I know a couple of amazing restaurants in the city. There's this incredible place that serves the best traditional dishes you've ever tasted, and another one in that does contemporary Mexican cuisine that would blow your mind."
You find yourself intrigued, both by the suggestion and the eager way he's describing it. "That sounds way better than room service."
"We could..." he hesitates for a moment, then continues with determination, "we could go together, if you'd like? After Thursday's media duties maybe? I'd love to show you my favorite spots."
There's something endearing about the way he's trying to sound casual while clearly being nervous about asking. You feel a flutter in your stomach that you definitely weren't expecting.
"You know what? That sounds great," you say, surprised by how much you mean it. "It's about time I experienced proper Mexican cuisine."
Franco's face breaks into a brilliant smile. "Perfect! I'll make a reservation for Thursday evening then. Trust me, you won't regret it."
As the conversation continues, you can't help but notice how natural it feels now, how easily you're laughing at his jokes and sharing stories. It's hard to believe this is the same person you were avoiding just a few weeks ago.
As other drivers start stirring from their sleep, Franco returns to his original seat, but not before confirming your dinner plans one more time.
Watching him walk away, you find yourself looking forward to Thursday evening more than you probably should. It's just dinner with a colleague, you tell yourself, even as you catch yourself smiling at the thought of it.
"Just dinner," you whisper to yourself, but somehow, you're not entirely convinced.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
yourinstagram has added to their close friends stories
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/715ed6e4537d43dc7df7f1473124769a/60771ecc43e282c4-43/s640x960/f60ec3d5a59030aef20e5facf46ff9415269d835.jpg)
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 ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b961735fa80c0b4406ff32466039f16d/60771ecc43e282c4-00/s540x810/a948b0311551c429899031ee5dd97417b55dd21d.jpg)
liked by username1, username2 14,892 users
f1gossip🚨 Franco Colapinto and YN spotted having dinner together in Mexico City. They spent over two hours at the restaurant according to witnesses.
view all comments
username2 This is getting interesting... 👀
username3 STOP I'M CRYING 😭❤️
username4 they're just friends guys, calm down
username4 the way he makes her laugh though!!!
username5 watch how they'll deny everything tomorrow
username6 MY HEART CAN'T TAKE THIS
username8 this has to be more than just friendship...
username10 I MANIFESTED THIS
username12 focus on racing instead of dating maybe?
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
The Brazilian rain hammers down relentlessly on the Interlagos circuit. It's barely 6 AM, but the paddock is already buzzing with nervous energy for the early sprint qualifying. You stifle a yawn as you check your phone for what must be the hundredth time that morning. Another message from Franco pops up - a picture of himself looking comically miserable in the rain with the caption "Maybe if we all pretend we didn't see the rain, they'll cancel quali?"
The past week has been unexpected in the best way possible. After that dinner in Mexico, something shifted. What started as sharing breakfast in the hotel turned into spending every free moment together. During the long flight to São Paulo, George had dramatically sighed and switched seats with Franco, muttering something about "not being able to take the longing looks across the plane anymore."
"Someone's cheerful for 6 AM," Max comments, walking into the garage as you quickly type a response to Franco. "Let me guess - Argetinian company keeping you entertained?"
You try to hide your smile but fail miserably. "Shut up and focus on qualifying."
"Oh, I'm focused," he grins. "Unlike someone who keeps looking at their phone every two minutes."
"I'm just-"
"YN," Max interrupts, counting off on his fingers, "he waited outside our debrief yesterday just to walk you to dinner. He somehow always knows your coffee order. And don't think I didn't notice him giving you his jacket yesterday."
You feel your cheeks heat up. "We're just friends."
"Right," Max smirks. "Friends. Like how Charles and I are 'just friends' when we're trying to punt each other off track."
"Shut up, as if you weren't secretly in love with each other."
A few hours later, as you prepare for the drivers' parade, Oscar sidles up next to you with his trademark grin.
"Well, well, if it isn't the stranger," he says dramatically. "Remember me? One of your best friends? Though I suppose you wouldn't know, being attached at the hip with a certain Williams driver these days."
You roll your eyes, but there's no heat in it. "Miss me that much, Piastri?"
"Just saying, used to be we'd get coffee before parade, now it's all 'Sorry Oscar, Franco already got me coffee,'" he mimics your voice terribly.
You're about to retort when Franco appears, and Oscar's grin widens. "And that's my cue. Have fun, kids!" He winks before sauntering off.
"Ignore him," you say when you notice a small smile in Franco's face, "He's the perpetual pain in my ass."
"He's okay," Franco says, standing closer to you. You're trying to get your hair in order when you realize something's missing.
"Shit," you mutter, patting your pockets. "I forgot my hair tie."
"You always braid it before races, right?"
"Yeah," you sigh, still searching. "I'm stupidly superstitious about it. Haven't gotten into the car without a perfect braid since F3."
"Here," Franco pulls a hair tie from his wrist. At your surprised look, he shrugs. "I started carrying one after Mexico. Just in case," he shrugs, as if he was saying the most obvious thing ever, "Turn around."
"You know how to braid hair?"
"Sisters, remember? I'm practically a professional." His fingers are gentle as they work through your hair. "Besides, can't have you breaking your streak because of a missing hair tie."
You're acutely aware of the other drivers watching with varying degrees of amusement. Lewis gives you a knowing wink as he passes, while Charles not-so-subtly elbows Oscar and gestures toward you two.
"There," he says finally, securing the end with your hair tie. "Perfect braid for perfect racing."
You reach back to feel it - it is indeed perfect. When you turn to thank him, you find him much closer than expected, his eyes soft as they meet yours.
"Show off," you manage to say, trying to ignore the way your heart is racing.
"Only for you," he replies with a wink, and you hear what sounds suspiciously like Alex whispering "Just kiss already" to George.
The moment is broken by the announcement for drivers to take their places on the parade truck. As you climb aboard, you catch Oscar making exaggerated swooning gestures at you, while Max simply mouths "Just friends?" with a knowing smirk.
Franco takes his place beside you on the truck, close enough that your shoulders touch, and somehow you find you don't really care who's watching.
"Nice braid, by the way," Charles calls out teasingly from behind you. "Franco, think you could do mine next time?"
"Get your own hair stylist, Leclerc," you call back, and Franco's laugh next to you makes everything - the bad qualifying, the rain, the teasing - worth it.
The truck starts moving, and Franco's hand finds yours, hidden from view between you. You intertwine your fingers with his, and neither of you let go for the entire parade.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/d70f9ec636681e6bafe14a3a177de447/60771ecc43e282c4-46/s540x810/810de1a843c6fd54064e92793e2b52d9a3b088ae.jpg)
liked by username1, username2 and 21,765 others
f1_insider🚨 Christian Horner spotted leaving Williams hospitality after a 2-hour meeting in Brazil. This comes amid increasing speculation about driver changes for 2025.
view all comments
username1 They're not even trying to be subtle anymore…
username2 leave YN alone challenge
username3 Franco to Red Bull confirmed? 👀
username5 WAIT WHAT
username7 the timing of this… right before quali 😬
username8 everyone acting surprised like this hasn't been brewing for weeks username11 They're trying to destabilize her before the race
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c1a8f496a2f1bdf7d947e8490f87bdc0/60771ecc43e282c4-c7/s540x810/def12b25749e0e256de2bfb7d51654eff72c195d.jpg)
liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 2,093,032 others
yourinstagram brazil never disappoints. p15 ➡️ p2. proud of this one.
view all comments
username1 IM STILL CRYING
username2 MIC DROP
maxverstappen1 Proper racing today 💪🏻 That defense in the last 10 laps 🔥Love you kiddo, couldn't ask for a better teammate
↳ username1 max said SHE'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE
danielricciardo THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! That's my girl!
username3 EVERYONE'S PRIDE AND JOY
username4 she got lucky and still no win this season
landonorris Absolute monster in the wet
logansargeant THAT'S MY BEST FRIEND
username5 this is why she deserves that seat
username6 where are all the haters now? 🤫
username7 that battle through the midfield was masterclass
username8 Silencing critics in the best way possible
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/63315a69a150e1b5ee98c37d0309fe62/60771ecc43e282c4-12/s540x810/2f108e94c2ab5ecdec8154eee66860a9e8ac07a7.jpg)
liked by username1, username2 and 14,088 others
f1gossip YN's radio messages during Franco's crash show a different side to their "rivalry." Listen to how her voice changes when she finds out it's him. Sometimes the real feelings come through in moments like these.
view all comments
username2 this doesn't sound like someone who "hates" him
username3 top I'm crying 😭
username4 "tell me he's okay" broke me
username6 forget the rivalry narrative, that's genuine concern
username7 MY DRIVERS STOOOOP
username8 this is the most emotion we've heard from her all season
username9 notice how she's been cold towards him for weeks but the second he's in danger…
username10 SOMETHING SHIFTED
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/cbf480a9c514c46a73ff32aff2735839/60771ecc43e282c4-a6/s540x810/7d4f72d63fce636c317d70aaf7a55ebadd059698.jpg)
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 ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/0fc2d894059fa0757925019aa8096a0d/60771ecc43e282c4-f1/s1280x1920/48d8fa237c25766ec461f582f1dc88e3bef90fc0.jpg)
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You've managed three weeks. Three weeks of perfectly crafted indifference, of calling him "the Williams driver" in interviews, of taking different routes through the paddock just to avoid those chance encounters that used to make your heart skip. Three weeks of pretending you don't miss his stupid sparkle messages, or the way he always saves you a coffee during early practice sessions.
But now your hands won't stop shaking as you stare at your dark phone screen, trying to ignore the screens showing the mangled Williams in the Las Vegas Strip. You've watched the replay seventeen times without meaning to, each time feeling your heart stop at the impact.
"This is getting ridiculous," Max's voice is quiet beside you, making you jump. You didn't even hear him approach. "Stop with this nonsense."
"I'm fine," you respond automatically, thumb still pretending to scroll on your black screen. "Just checking the timing sheets."
"Your phone isn't even on." Max's hand appears, gently taking the phone from your trembling grip. "They've taken him to UMC. Just go."
"I can't," you whisper, finally looking up at your teammate. You hate how your voice catches. "Everyone will—"
"Who cares what everyone will say?" Max interrupts, already reaching for your bag. "Hannah's got a car waiting. Go."
"I don't want to," you protest weakly, but even you can hear how unconvincing it sounds. "I don't need to—"
"Stop," Max's voice is firm but gentle. "You're not going back to this. Not after everything. You care about him, stop pretending you don't."
You take a shaky breath, then nod once. You're out of the garage before you can change your mind and rebuild those walls you've spent three weeks perfecting. Because Max is right – you do care. You care so much it terrifies you. And right now, nothing else matters except knowing he's okay.
You hate hospitals. You've spent too many hours in them after your own crashes, but somehow this is worse. Standing outside his room, you're suddenly unsure of everything. Three weeks of carefully constructed distance seems ridiculous now.
"You can come in instead of hovering at the door," Franco's voice carries from inside, slightly hoarse but still holding that hint of amusement that always used to drive you crazy. "Unless you're planning to run away again."
You step inside, trying to maintain some composure even as your heart clenches at the sight of him. "I wasn't running away," you say automatically, but it sounds weak even to your ears.
"No?" He raises an eyebrow, wincing slightly at the movement. "So you just happened to take different paddock routes?"
"Franco—"
"It's back to Franco now? Not 'the Williams driver'?" There's hurt beneath his teasing tone, and it makes your chest tight. "That last interview was particularly cold, by the way. Very convincing."
You stay by the door, arms crossed. "I thought that's what everyone wanted. Space. Distance. Rivalry."
"You're here now though."
"Max made me come," you lie.
"Sure he did." Franco's small smile tells you he sees right through you. "Nothing to do with how many times you asked if I was okay over the radio?"
You feel your cheeks heat up. Of course he's heard the radio already. "I would have asked about any driver."
"YN," his voice softens, and it breaks something in you. "Stop pretending. Please. I miss my friend."
The last words hit you hard, and you finally let your arms drop, taking a step closer. "I miss you too," you whisper, and it feels like admitting defeat and victory all at once. "I was so scared when I saw the crash."
"Come here," he says quietly, patting the edge of the bed.
You hesitate for just a moment before crossing the room, carefully sitting beside him. "I'm sorry," you say softly. "For these past weeks. For being harsh. For—"
"I know," he interrupts, his hand finding yours. "I know. But you're here now."
You squeeze his hand gently, feeling the walls you've built crumbling completely. "You could have died today and I would have never—" you stop yourself, running your thumb over his knuckles without thinking. "All because of this stupid seat."
Franco's quiet for a moment, then lets out a small laugh that turns into a wince. "Is that what you think? That I'm after your seat?"
"Aren't you?" You try to pull your hand away but he holds on. "The meetings with Christian, the—"
"YN," he interrupts, waiting until you look at him. "I never got any offers from RedBull.”
You freeze. "What?"
"I'm not taking your seat," he says softly. "In fact, I still don't have a seat."
"But...the meetings with Horner?" You're struggling to process this. "He basically told me they were considering options for next season, and those options were you in my seat."
"Sounds to me that he was pressuring you." His eyes hold yours. "My team had meetings with RedBull, yes. But we never got a solid offer, not even for VCARB."
You feel slightly dizzy. Three weeks of avoiding him, of building up walls, of convincing yourself he was just another driver trying to take your seat...
"I'm an idiot, aren't I?" you finally manage.
"Well, you've taken the long way through the paddock just to avoid me," he teases, then becomes serious. "I wouldn't hurt you like that. You know that. Or at least, you used to."
"I got scared," you admit quietly. "When I heard about the meetings, I just... it was easier to push you away than to admit that I care about you."
The silence that follows feels heavy with everything unsaid. Finally, Franco squeezes your hand gently.
"Well," he says softly, "nearly dying seems to have worked out well for me then."
"That's not funny," but you're fighting a smile.
"Made you come see me though, didn't it?"
"I hate you," but there's no heat in it.
"No, you don't," he says confidently. "You just admitted you care about me. No taking it back now."
You roll your eyes but don't deny it. "How are you feeling, really?"
"Like I crashed a car at 200mph," he grins, then softens. "Better now though."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/85107d30a486e05127bc7bce945e6a56/60771ecc43e282c4-c3/s540x810/6515bb3b02bda8513b275a33f6524dd8939e8108.jpg)
liked by francolapinto, maxverstappen1 and 1,908,479 others
yourinstagram champion x4 🏆so proud to be part of this journey. no one deserves it more than you @/maxverstappen1. thank you for being the best teammate anyone could ask for, on and off track.
view all comments
username1 IM CRYINGGGGG
username2 this is my family
maxverstappen1 Couldn't ask for a better teammate and bonus little sister. Thanks for having my back all season 💪🏻
↳ username1 HE SAID SHE'LL ALWAYS BE MY TEAMMATE
danielricciardo Look at my kids making me proud 🥹
christianhorner Fantastic team effort all year. Proud of both of you.
↳ username1 FIX HER CAR AND STOP FEEDING HER TO THE PRESS!!
username5 the way max waited to celebrate until she crossed the finish line
username6 remember when they said they wouldn't get along
username7 brother sister energy we love to see it
francolapinto Amazing work 🙌
↳ username8 bro ready to take her seat
username9 their relationship is too pure. max adores her like she's his little sister and yn would take a murder charge for him pretty much
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
After showering and changing post-race, you're walking back to your hotel room when your phone buzzes. Franco's name lights up the screen: "Hey... could you come to my room? Need to get my mind off today. Room 412."
You hesitate only briefly before responding. After everything that's happened - the crash, the hospital, the conversations that followed - things between you have felt different.
Qatar had been grueling, you managed to score a solid P4 but the story for Franco had been different. He was part of a collision during turn one that ended his race right there. You heard it on the radio and your heart couldn't help but ache for him.
When you knock, Franco opens the door looking drained, his usual spark dimmed by the day's events. He's changed into soft sweatpants and a team shirt, hair still damp from his shower.
"That bad, huh?" you say softly, following him into the room.
He drops onto the bed with a sigh. "First lap incidents are the worst. All that preparation, all those hours in the sim… gone in seconds."
You settle into the armchair across from him. "I saw the replay. That wasn't your fault - Hulkenberg came across way too aggressively."
"Doesn't matter whose fault it was. Points are points, and I need them." He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture you've come to recognize as stress. "The pressure's getting intense. Everyone keeps asking about next year's plans, and I just… I don't know."
"Hey," you say gently, moving to sit beside him. "You're one of the most talented drivers out there. Everyone sees it."
"Do they?" His voice is uncharacteristically vulnerable. "Because right now it feels like every mistake is being magnified. One DNF and suddenly everyone's questioning if I deserve the seat."
"I know that feeling too well," you admit. "I mean, I spent three weeks avoiding you because I thought you were after my seat."
That draws a small laugh from him. "Not my finest moment in the hospital, guilt-tripping you about it."
"It worked though, didn't it?" you nudge his shoulder playfully, "Plus, I guilt tripped you about Logan's seat for the longest time, it's only fair."
"Yeah, well, I was desperate. Do you know how hard it was watching you take different routes through the paddock just to avoid me?"
"About as hard as it was taking those routes," you say softly. "I missed you."
"You did manage to find some creative paths though," he teases, his mood lightening slightly. "I particularly enjoyed watching you duck behind Lando in the airport."
"I did not duck!"
"You absolutely did. Practically dove behind him. Poor guy had no idea why you suddenly needed an urgent conversation about sim settings."
You feel your cheeks heat up. "Well, what about you? Mr. 'Oh sorry, I didn't see you there' when we literally made eye contact in the media pen?"
"That was Oscar's fault! He told me my hair looked weird and I got distracted."
"Your hair always looks weird."
He gasps in mock offense. "Take that back! This hair has its own fan accounts."
"Yeah, horror fan accounts maybe," you tease.
"Says the person who needed my expert braiding skills before races."
"Which you learned from your sisters, if I remember correctly?"
His expression softens. "Actually… I might have YouTube'd it after Mexico."
That catches you off guard. "You… what?"
"Yeah," he rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking sheepish. "Spent like three hours practicing on a rope I found in the gym. Alex caught me and wouldn't stop laughing."
"That's…" you feel something warm bloom in your chest. "That's actually really sweet."
"Don't tell anyone," he grins. "I have a reputation to maintain."
"Oh yeah? What reputation is that?"
"You know, cool, mysterious, definitely not the type to watch hair braiding tutorials."
You laugh. "Hate to break it to you, but anyone who's seen you try to work the coffee machine knows you're not mysterious."
"That machine is complicated!"
"It has three buttons!"
"Three very confusing buttons," he protests. "Besides, you're the one who always shows up right when I'm struggling with it."
"Pure coincidence."
"Right," he smirks. "Just like how you 'coincidentally' started showing up earlier to breakfast after I mentioned that's when I usually go?"
You feel your cheeks warm again. "I just… wanted to beat the rush."
"The rush of exactly two other drivers who eat that early?"
"Shut up," you mutter, but you're smiling.
The air between you changes, becomes charged with everything unsaid. You're suddenly very aware of how close you're sitting, how his eyes have dropped to your lips.
He doesn't say anything else, instead, he leans forward and kisses you, soft and careful, like he's afraid you might pull away. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and you feel yourself melting into the touch.
When he pulls back, you blink at him, slightly dazed. "You kissed me."
His familiar smirk returns, though his eyes remain soft. "Well done, Sherlock."
You roll your eyes at his sass, but can't help smiling. This time, you're the one who leans in, capturing his lips with yours. The kiss is deeper, more certain. His hand slides into your hair as you press closer, and you feel him smile against your mouth.
"You know," he says softly, playing with a strand of your hair, "besides being one of my racing idols, you've also always been my crush."
You pull back slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Don't let it go to your head," he grins.
"Oh my god," you laugh. "You were such a fan! Did you have posters too?"
He groans, hiding his face in your shoulder. "I'm never telling you anything again."
"No, no, this is great," you tease. "I'm just a year and a half older than you, Colapinto, and you completely idolized me."
"I hate you," he mumbles into your shoulder.
"No you don't," you say confidently. "You just admitted you had a crush on me."
He lifts his head, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. "Still do, actually. Although the real you is much more annoying than poster you."
"Poster me didn't call you out on your coffee machine struggles."
"Poster you was much nicer," he agrees, but he's smiling as he leans in to kiss you again.
This kiss is slower, deeper, filled with everything you've both been holding back. When you finally pull apart, you rest your forehead against his.
"Been wanting to do that for a while," he admits softly.
"Even when I was avoiding you? Or giving you crap to defend my best friend's honor?"
"Especially then. Do you know how adorable you looked trying to pretend you didn't see me in the paddock?"
"Shut up," you laugh.
"Never," he grins, pulling you closer. "I have years of fan stories to make up for."
You kiss him again just to shut him up, but you can feel him smiling against your lips, and you think maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where you're meant to be.
"You're never going to let me live down the fan thing, are you?" he asks when you break apart.
"Not a chance," you smirk. "I bet Alex has pictures of you practicing those braids too."
"Don't you dare!"
But you're already reaching for your phone, laughing as he tries to grab it from you, and somehow you end up tangled together on the bed, both laughing too hard to care about anything else.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/262b01b7b53e3cdd7587affff7ff4944/60771ecc43e282c4-dc/s540x810/c2486053140568b60bb9cb76d39ab715ec4cd6e9.jpg)
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You're halfway through your coffee when Franco appears, wearing his team polo and that signature grin that used to irritate you but now makes your stomach flutter. It's still surreal how much has changed - from despising him for taking Logan's seat, to avoiding him over your seat rumors, to… whatever this is now. He slides into the seat next to you, leaning in for a kiss. You quickly place a hand on his chest, pushing him back playfully.
"Easy there, hotshot," you tease. "Let's keep it professional."
"Professional?" He raises an eyebrow, that mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, don't be shy now. Not after last week."
You feel your cheeks warm at the memory. "Last week was different. We were alone."
"Oh, so that's the rule? Only when we're alone?" He leans closer, lowering his voice. "Should we discuss what else happened when we were alone?"
"Franco!" You swat his arm, but you're fighting a smile.
"What? I'm just saying, for someone who used to avoid me like I had the plague, you sure changed your tune."
"Yeah, well," you stir your coffee, trying to maintain your composure, "turns out you're not as annoying as I thought."
"High praise," he chuckles. "Remember when you wouldn't even look at me in driver briefings?"
"Remember when you replaced my best friend and then tried to steal my seat?"
"I didn't try to steal your seat!" he protests. "That was all media speculation."
Before you can respond, Max drops into the seat across from you, already looking amused at finding you two together.
"Well, well," he says, reaching for the coffee pot. "If it isn't my favorite teammate and her… what are we calling this now?"
You roll your eyes. "We're calling it none of Max's business."
"Everything is Max's business," Max says cheerfully. "Especially when said business involves my teammate getting cozy with the competition."
Franco's phone buzzes and his expression shifts slightly as he reads the message, and you catch that flicker of worry he's been trying to hide all weekend. The weight of it being potentially his last race in F1 has been hanging over both of you.
"Engineers?" you ask softly.
"Yeah," he sighs. "Last pre-race meeting of the season. Hopefully not my last ever," he adds, attempting a joke that falls flat.
You reach for his hand under the table, giving it a quick squeeze. "Hey, you've shown what you can do this year. The pace is there, the talent is there-"
"The results aren't," he cuts in, running his free hand through his hair. "DNF and crashes don't exactly scream 'keep me for next year.'"
"The car's been shit though," Max speaks up, "Everyone knows that. You've outqualified your teammate and scored points."
"Try telling that to the team principals," Franco says, attempting a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Anyway, better go before they add 'chronically late' to my resume." He stands, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "See you later?"
"Of course," you say softly. "Good luck in the meeting."
Once Franco leaves, Max leans forward, "Okay, spill. Everything. Now."
"There's nothing to spill."
"Nothing to spill?" Max scoffs. "Last month you were convinced he was plotting to take your seat, and now he's kissing you goodbye at breakfast? That's not nothing."
"You don't need to know everything about my life, Max," you try to busy yourself with your coffee, that's pretty much cold by now.
"I'm the older brother you never wanted but got stuck with anyway, so I do need to know about these things."
You sigh, knowing he won't let this go. "Fine. After Qatar, things changed. We… spent time together."
"Spent time together?" Max wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.
"Not like that!" you protest, then lower your voice. "Well, not just like that. We talked a lot. About everything again - the rumors, the misunderstandings, why I was so angry about Logan, and… I don't know. It's different now. Good different. When I'm with him, everything just feels…" you trail off, searching for the right words.
"Right?" Max supplies, his teasing tone softening.
"Yeah," you admit. "Which makes this whole situation even harder. If he doesn't get a seat…"
"Then you'll figure it out," Max says, "But let's not write him off yet. Season's not over until the checkered flag."
You nod, but can't help glancing at the door Franco left through. "You know what's ironic?" you say, turning back to Max. "A few months ago, I was worried about him taking my seat. Now I'd give anything for him to have one, anywhere on the grid."
Max smiles knowingly. "Amazing what a few kisses can do."
"It's not just that," you protest. "He deserves to be here. He's so talented-"
"And you're completely smitten," Max interrupts, grinning.
"Shut up," You throw a napkin at him. "I'm getting a new teammate next year," you declare.
"No you're not," Max laughs. "You love me." He pauses, suddenly looking both nervous and excited. "Actually… want to know a secret?"
Something in his tone makes you lean forward. "Always."
"Kelly's pregnant," he says, a huge grin spreading across his face. "We just found out last month"
You practically leap across the table to hug him, nearly knocking over both your coffees in the process. "Oh my god! Max! I'm going to be an auntie!"
He laughs, hugging you back. "Actually…" he pulls back slightly to look at you, "What do you think about being a godmother?"
Your eyes widen. "Are you serious?"
"Of course," he grins. "Who else would I trust to teach my kid how to properly terrorize the paddock?"
You feel tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm going to spoil them so much," you warn, hugging him again. "Like, an absolutely ridiculous amount."
"I know," he laughs. "That's kind of counting on it."
"Does anyone else know?"
"Just family for now," he says. "And you, obviously. Because you are family."
You're definitely crying now. "I hate you for making me cry before a race weekend."
"Sure you do," he grins. "Just like you hate Franco, right?"
You wipe your eyes, deciding to ignore his comment. "God, I can't believe you're going to be a dad!"
"Me neither," he admits, and there's something soft and vulnerable in his expression that makes your heart squeeze. "It's scary but… in a good way, you know?"
"You're going to be amazing," you tell him seriously. "The best dad ever."
His smile turns mischievous. "Just wait until Franco gets you pregnant-"
"And that's my cue to leave," you gather your things. "Congratulations again, future dad. I love you, even when you're the worst."
His laughter follows you out of the room. "Love you too, future godmother!"
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/914bd098839105fabebd101c6f31da66/60771ecc43e282c4-3b/s540x810/612553d4ac2aec00db444119f81ba121047de772.jpg)
liked by maxverstappen1, francolapinto and 2,099,437 others
yourinstagram ABU DHABI WINNER! 🏆✨ still feels surreal to type those words. to win the last race of the season, after everything… no words can describe this feeling. thank you to every single person who never stopped believing in me, even when things got tough. to my incredible team - this one's for you. we did it! 🧡
view all comments
username1 SHE FUCKING DID IT
username2 first win of the season in the last race - poetic justice
username3 the way everyone doubted her at the start of the season and now look at her QUEEN BEHAVIOR
logansargeant YESSSS! That move was legendary! So proud of you!
username4 this feels so RIGHT
francolapinto Mi campeona 🖤 That last lap move was 🔥
↳ username1 IM CRYING OMFG
↳ username2 THEY'RE SO TOGETHER I DON'T MAKE THE RULES
username5 brb i'll be crying while i watch that video of her hugging franco
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You're still riding the high of your Abu Dhabi win as you unlock your apartment door. Your first win of the season, in the last race - it feels poetic, somehow. Like a final "fuck you" to everyone who doubted you, who questioned your seat, who spent the entire season speculating about your future.
The trophy sits in your bag, along with the champagne bottle Charles insisted you keep. Franco follows you in, still wearing that soft smile he's had since he watched you cross the finish line.
He's staying at your apartment since he doesn't have a place in Monaco and the now traditional drivers dinner is happening, after all you time together, inviting him over felt...natural.
The past few days have been a whirlwind - the podium, the celebrations, the multiple kisses stolen in your motorhome between media duties. The flight to Monaco where you both pretended to sleep but kept "accidentally" touching hands. It should feel fast, rushed, but somehow it just feels right.
"Still can't believe you pulled that move on the last lap," Franco says, dropping his bags by the door. "Even Max was impressed, I think you broke his brain a little."
"Speaking of broken, try not to destroy anything while you're here," you tease. "Some of us actually live in Monaco full-time."
Franco turns to you with mock offense. "When have I ever broken anything?"
"Do you want the list chronologically or alphabetically?" you raise an eyebrow. "Because I distinctly remember a certain incident with Lewis' scooter…"
"That was a manufacturing defect and you know it," he protests, moving closer.
"Sure it was," you laugh. "Just like the tablet in Singapore was a 'technical malfunction'?"
He's close enough now that you can smell his cologne, the same one that's been driving you crazy since Qatar. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"
"Never," you confirm, but your voice comes out softer than intended because he's looking at you the way he has been since that first kiss in his room - like you're something precious.
"Guest room's down the hall," you say quickly, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "Bathroom's across from it, you know the drill."
Franco raises an eyebrow, that mischievous glint in his eyes that you're starting to know too well. "You're really going to make me take the guest room? After all our bonding?"
"Bonding?" you scoff. "Is that what we're calling it?"
"Well, what would you call making out in your motorhome? And the plane bathroom? And-"
You cut him off by pressing your hand to his mouth. "Those were… moments of weakness."
He kisses your palm before moving your hand, and the simple gesture shouldn't make your heart race like it does. "Lots of moments."
"I was emotionally vulnerable," you argue weakly.
"Uh-huh," he steps closer, backing you against the wall. "And now?Are you emotionally vulnerable now?" His hands find your waist, and you try to ignore how right they feel there.
"I'm…" you start, but then he's kissing you, slow and deep, and you forget what you were going to say.
When he pulls back, you're both breathing heavily. "We should get ready for dinner," you manage.
"We should," he agrees, but kisses you again.
"Franco," you mumble against his lips. "We're already late."
"Five more minutes," he murmurs, trailing kisses down your neck.
It ends up being fifteen minutes before you finally push him away, your lips swollen and hair slightly messed up.
"Guest room," you point firmly. "Get changed."
He grins, stealing one last quick kiss before grabbing his bag. "Yes, boss."
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
yourinstagram has added to their close friends story
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c7f7e5cce207a1a332d0731e521df847/60771ecc43e282c4-ba/s640x960/a0f13d43b7557f9dd4edeed202f2c10667555879.jpg)
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You arrive at Lewis' Monaco penthouse a fashionably acceptable ten minutes late, Franco's hand resting casually on your lower back as the elevator opens to the top floor. The space is already filled with the familiar chatter of your fellow drivers, the city lights twinkling through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
"Look who finally made it," Charles calls out, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Got lost on the way from your apartment? It's only three blocks…"
"Traffic," you say smoothly, ignoring Franco's poorly concealed laugh beside you.
"Must have been terrible," Alex joins in, eyes twinkling. "Considering you live literally around the corner."
Lewis appears, saving you from having to respond. He hugs you warmly before turning to Franco with a grin. "No scooters allowed inside this time, mate."
"That was one time!" Franco protests as everyone laughs. "And it was definitely faulty manufacturing."
The evening flows easily, conversation and wine flowing freely as everyone celebrates the end of another season. You find yourself constantly aware of Franco's presence - the way he automatically hands you your favorite wine, how his hand finds yours under the table, the soft looks he gives you when he thinks no one's watching.
(They're all watching. These are racing drivers - subtlety isn't their strong suit.)
"Get together, everyone!" you call out later, holding up your phone. "I want a picture."
There's the usual chaos of twenty-odd drivers trying to arrange themselves, plenty of shoving and laughing as everyone finds their spot. Franco ends up behind you, his chest pressed against your back, hands resting lightly on your waist.
"Alright, someone else take it," Lando announces. "YN's too busy making heart eyes at Franco to frame it properly."
"I am not-"
"You kind of are," Pierre interrupts with a grin.
"Just like in Abu Dhabi," Oscar adds. "And the flight home. And baggage claim. And-"
"I hate all of you."
The night continues with more conversation, more drinks, and constant teasing from your friends. Even Charles joins in, muttering something about "finally dealing with all that sexual tension in the briefings."
By the time you leave, you're both pleasantly tipsy, walking back to your apartment with slightly unsteady steps. The moment your door closes behind you, the atmosphere shifts.
"So," he says finally, stepping closer. "About that guest room…"
"What about it?" you ask, but you're already moving toward him.
"I'm thinking," he cups your face with one hand, "that it would be a shame to use it."
"Would it?"
"Mhmm," he's close enough now that you can feel his breath on your lips. "Especially when the winner deserves proper celebrations."
"Or maybe you're just being a horndog," you tease, even as your hands find their way to his chest.
"Maybe," he concedes. "Or maybe I just can't stop thinking about kissing you."
Your breath catches. "You've already kissed me plenty today."
"Not enough," he murmurs, then proves his point by capturing your lips with his.
The kiss is different from all the others. Those were stolen moments, quick and heated. This is slower, deeper, like he's trying to memorize every second.
"Don't make me take the guest room," he murmurs against your lips.
You pretend to think about it, even as your hands slip under his shirt. "Well, since you asked so nicely…"
"I can be very nice," he grins, then kisses you again, backing you toward your bedroom.
"Prove it," you challenge.
The guest room remains empty that night. And many nights after.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3380037651128b8fb8aba203c188908b/60771ecc43e282c4-6c/s540x810/0c68d29eca00ba6f1905b86e06dfdaeace7c6f71.jpg)
liked by pierregasly, francolapinto and 2,044,387 others
yourinstagram i love my little dysfunctional family !! yes i'm the one behind the camera
view all comments
username1 THIS IS LEGENDARY
username3 FRANCO'S FACE ??? DEVASTATED BC HIS GIRL IS NOT NEXT TO HIM
lewishamilton Always family ❤️
oscarpiastri Never sitting between you and your lover boy again..
↳ username1 HUH??
↳ username2 oscar spill the deets PLEASE
↳ logansargeant to the gc NOW
↳ username3 LET ME INNNNN
↳ username4 im crying
↳ yourinstagram i hate you both
francolapinto ❤️
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
yn's biggest fans groupchat
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/cf8e6ef09474ac36fa489f4e07ace783/60771ecc43e282c4-62/s540x810/978caacd7324a278830d42a7c09723e4bb8fdb72.jpg)
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
You're curled up on your couch, watching the lights of Monaco twinkle through your window as snow falls softly outside. Franco's just finished unpacking his bags, having arrived from Argentina an hour ago. The past weeks without him felt strangely empty, even though you'd been surrounded by family for Christmas.
"Mama keeps asking about the foods I mentioned you cook," Franco says, settling beside you with a grin. "She's convinced I'm making it up."
"Did you tell her it's mostly pasta and those empanadas you taught me to make?"
"Si, but she says my standards have dropped since moving to Europe," he laughs, stealing some of your blanket. "How was your family?"
"Good. Dad's still buzzing about Abu Dhabi. He's watched the replay about fifty times, especially that last lap battle with Max," you grin, throwing your legs over his lap. "How was home?"
"Hot," he sighs contentedly. "Really hot. Nothing like a proper Argentinian summer."
"Meanwhile I was freezing in London," you poke his side. "Speaking of which… don't you have some news to share?"
He raises an eyebrow. "How did you-"
"Carlos texted me. He's terrible at keeping secrets."
Franco runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you've come to recognize. "I signed with Williams. As their reserve driver for next season, there's talk about 2026, but nothing concrete yet."
"Franco!" you exclaim, throwing your arms around him. "That's amazing!"
He hugs you back, letting out a relieved laugh. "You think so?"
"Of course I do!" you pull back to look at him. "Williams is doing great things, and with Carlos and Alex there…" you trail off, seeing something in his expression. "What aren't you telling me?"
"Nothing bad," he assures quickly. "Just… I'll be based in England a lot. For simulator work and development."
"Oh," you say quietly, understanding dawning. You'd gotten used to having him here, in your space, in the paddock, in your life.
"Hey," he tilts your chin up. "It's not that far. And I'll still be at all the races. Plus," his lips quirk up, "I hear Nice has a pretty good airport."
You can't help but smile. "True. And I suppose I could be convinced to visit Grove occasionally."
"Only occasionally?" he teases.
"Well, I am very busy and important," you say loftily, making him laugh.
His eyes drop to your lips. "I'm sure you can save some time for me," he murmurs before closing the distance between you.
The kiss is soft and familiar, like coming home after a long trip. When you pull back, he's wearing that small smile that always makes your stomach flip.
You settle back against him, comfortable silence falling between you. "Talk to me about next season," he says eventually. "What's going on in that head of yours?"
"Honestly? I'm nervous," you admit. "Abu Dhabi was amazing, but what if it was just luck? What if I can't do it again?"
"The same way Suzuka was luck? And Singapore? And that insane qualifying in Baku?" Franco shifts to look at you properly, "You've been fast all season. Abu Dhabi just proved what everyone already knew."
"Smooth," you laugh, then remember something. "Oh! Speaking of next year - what are you doing for New Year's Eve?"
"Nothing yet. Why?"
"Logan's throwing a party in Florida for his birthday. Want to come?"
Franco hesitates. "Won't that be…"
"What? Weird because you stole his seat?" you tease, making him groan.
"I thought we cleared that up months ago," he protests.
"We did, I just like messing with you," you grin. "Come on, it'll be fun. There'll be cake."
“You know my weakness,” he sighs dramatically. “Does this mean I get to kiss you at midnight?”
“Bold of you to assume you’ll be my midnight kiss,” you tease, even as you lean into him.
“No? Planning on kissing someone else?” he raises an eyebrow, hands settling on your waist.
“Maybe. Logan might have a hot friend…”
"Terrible," he murmurs against your lips. "You're terrible."
"You like it," you whisper back, just before he kisses you again.
When you finally break apart, he's already reaching for the remote. "Want to watch Qatar?"
You groan, but you're smiling. "I hate you."
"No you don't," he says confidently, pulling up the race highlights.
And as he starts his terrible commentary, making you laugh despite yourself, you think about how easy this is - whatever this is between you. No labels, no pressure, just… this.
Outside, Monaco continues to sparkle under the falling snow, but in here, with Franco's warmth beside you and his voice in your ear pointing out "that brilliant move you did in turn 4" for the hundredth time, you think maybe some things don't need defining to be perfect.
Plus, you already know who your midnight kiss is going to be. Not that you'll tell him that - his ego's big enough as it is.
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/88e009309713567989f583246f194ed9/60771ecc43e282c4-ab/s540x810/fb3b599f448e9db13e33019faa513e2683349a31.jpg)
liked by username1, username2 and 12,870 others
f1gossip Spotted: F1's power couple enjoying a day out in Monaco! Franco Colapinto and YN were seen strolling around today, looking very cozy! The pair, who have been subject to dating rumors seemed to have no interest in hiding their relationship anymore.
view all comments
username1 THE FUUUUUCK
username2 i don't like this..
username3 FRANCO GET AWAYYYY she's going to distract him
username4 why is this lowkey powerful
username5 THIS PLOT TWIST OMFG
username6 i thought they hated each other ??
username7 oh how the tables have turned
───────── ౨ৎ ─────────
Music pulses from Logan's Miami beach house as you and Franco make your way up the palm-lined driveway. The December air is surprisingly warm, fairy lights twinkling in every tree and reflecting off the pool visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Your hand is loosely intertwined with Franco's, something that still gives you butterflies even after weeks of... whatever this is between you.
"Birthday boy!" you call out as Logan spots you from the entrance, where he's greeting guests in a ridiculous party hat and an even more ridiculous Hawaiian shirt.
"If it isn't my best friend and the guy who stole my seat," Logan grins, pulling you into a tight hug before turning to Franco with an exaggerated suspicious look that quickly breaks into a genuine smile. "Good to see you, man."
"Happy birthday," Franco offers with a grin, accepting Logan's enthusiastic handshake-turned-hug. "Nice shirt."
"Right? YN said it was terrible, but what does she know about fashion?"
"Hey!" you protest, but you're laughing. "I have great taste."
Logan's eyes drift meaningfully to your joined hands. "Clearly," he smirks, making you blush and Franco chuckle. "Drinks are everywhere, food's by the pool, try not to fall in."
"That was one time," you mutter as Logan gets pulled away by more arriving guests.
Franco raises an eyebrow. "One time?"
"Don't ask. Come on, I need a drink before I tell you that story."
After getting drinks, you find yourself drifting between groups, Franco's hand a constant presence at the small of your back or linked with yours. It's nice, you think, not having to overthink every interaction, every touch. Here, away from the paddock and the cameras, you can just... be.
It's about an hour into the party when Logan finds you again, now sporting two party hats and what looks suspiciously like glitter on his cheek.
"Stinks! Just the person I wanted to see," he announces, dragging you away from where Franco is deep in conversation with Alex. "Back in five," he tells Franco with an exaggerated wink that makes you roll your eyes.
"Subtle," you comment as Logan leads you to the makeshift bar.
"Please, subtle went out the window when you two showed up holding hands like teenagers at prom," he snorts, mixing drinks with practiced ease. "Speaking of which..."
"Don't start," you warn, but you're fighting a smile.
"Me? Start something? Never," he puts a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I just find it interesting that the same person who spent three hours ranting to me about 'that arrogant Argentine who stole your seat' is now making heart eyes at him across my party."
"You're impossible."
"And you're happy," he says softly, his teasing tone giving way to something more sincere. "Like, really happy. I haven't seen you like this in… well, ever."
You look down at your drink, feeling your cheeks warm. "Yeah, well…"
"Hey," Logan nudges your shoulder. "It's a good thing. You deserve this, YN. Someone who gets you, who understands the pressure and the crazy schedule and still looks at you like you hung the moon."
"He doesn't-"
"He absolutely does. Trust me, I've been watching him watch you all night. It's disgustingly cute."
"I'm kind of scared, Logan," you look down at your hands nervously, "Six months ago, I hated him. And now I can't picture myself apart from him. It's all happening really fast and I'm not quite sure when everything shifted, but I feel like there's no going back now. And that's terrifies me."
"Stinks," Logan says gently, "you didn't hate him. You were hurt because of how everything went down with the seat, and you projected that onto him. I get being scared. This sport… it complicates things. But I've seen how he looks at you and how you look at him. It's okay to have feelings for him."
"How do you always know what to say?" you look up at him.
"Because I'm your best friend," he squeezes your shoulder. "Now go get your man. And please kiss him at midnight so I can win the bet with Alex."
"You bet on us?!"
"The whole grid did. I have fifty bucks riding on tonight!"
Later, as midnight approaches, you find yourself on the beach with Franco, fairy lights and stars twinkling above. Your conversation with Logan keeps playing in your mind, making you fidgety.
"You okay?" Franco asks softly, touching your arm.
"FIVE MINUTES!" someone shouts from the house.
"I have feelings for you," you blurt out. "Like, real feelings. And I know it's fast and complicated and I was horrible to you at first because I was hurt about the seat thing but then you were so nice and understanding and you brought me coffee after bad practice sessions and you defended me to the press and you make me laugh even when I'm trying to be mad and your accent gets thicker when you're tired which is unfairly adorable and-"
"THREE MINUTES!"
"-and sometimes I catch you looking at me in debriefs and it makes me forget what I'm saying and Oscar keeps making these knowing faces at us and I pretend to be annoyed but actually I kind of like it and-"
"SIXTY SECONDS!"
"-and I know this could complicate everything but I can't stop thinking about you and the way you smile when you see me in the morning and how you remember how I like my coffee and-"
"TEN! NINE! EIGHT!"
"-and maybe this is crazy but I really really like you and I know we should probably talk about what this means for next season but-"
"FOUR! THREE!"
"-and I just needed you to know-"
"TWO! ONE!"
Franco cuts off your rambling with a kiss, one hand cupping your face while the other pulls you closer. You melt into him as fireworks explode overhead, your heart racing for reasons that have nothing to do with the celebration around you.
When he pulls back, he's wearing that soft smile that always makes your stomach flip. "You're so cute when you rant."
"I don't rant," you protest weakly.
"Mi amor, you just spent ten minutes listing all the things you like about me, including my accent."
"Shut up."
He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours. "I want to be with you, YN. Officially, properly, no more undefined territory. I want everyone to know that you're mine and I'm yours. I want morning coffees and post-race celebrations and quiet moments like this. I want all of it, with you."
"Yeah?" you whisper, hardly daring to believe it.
"Yeah," he confirms, brushing his thumb across your cheek. "I'm crazy about you, in case my terrible attempts at flirting haven't made that obvious."
"Your flirting isn't terrible."
He kisses you again, laughing against your lips. "So… is that a yes?"
You pretend to think about it. "I don't know, Logan's friend is looking pretty good tonight…"
"Terrible," he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. "You're terrible."
"You like it," you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"I like everything about you."
Your heart skips. "Everything?"
"Everything," he confirms. "Even your terrible taste in coffee."
You laugh, bright and happy, before pulling him down for another kiss. Around you, the party continues, music and waves and distant fireworks creating a perfect backdrop to this moment. When you finally break apart, you're both breathless and smiling.
"Happy New Year," you murmur.
"The happiest," he agrees, and as he leans in again, you think that maybe some feelings are worth being scared of, especially when they lead to moments like this.
Plus, you just won Logan a bet. Not that you'll tell him that.
#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto fanfic#franco colapinto fanfiction#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto smau#franco colapinto fic#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 fanfic#f1 social media au#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#harrysfolklore#fc43 x reader#fc43 imagine
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
i don't think we love each other
procreate hates me and tbh that's good otherwise i'd definitely overrender this, some missing things include the lamb's halo and cape but WAHH
i forgot i liked making comics this much- this goobers bring me so much joy- higher contrast and detail shots below
Text written out;
Narinder: Do you think we fall in love in every universe-
Lamb: …no, I’m- Sorry! I don’t mean to make you sad!! But, truly? I don’t. There are those in which your fear makes you cruel, and those which in my anger so am I. But… I love you in this one, in this universe, I hope-
Narinder: COUCH!
Lamb: You asked! That’s not fair!
Narinder: You’re supposed to say YES- see you tomorrow incessant lamb.
Small text to the left side of Narinder says: secretly very happy
In the bottom right hand has a white heart, indicating the lamb, with a question mark, surrounded by swirling hearts, indicating Narinder, as if to say he does in every universe
#cult of the lamb#cotl#cotl fanart#cotl lamb#cotl narinder#my art#narilamb#cotl fanfic#cotl narilamb#no i wouldn't love you as a worm wtf#lenpenart#cardinalau
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
“No!”
Your ears perked up at your daughter’s little voice ringing from the bedroom. You sat in the living room, tired but on edge to deal with a tantrum. Wine glass in your hand, you swirled the cup in hesitance. Katsuki wanted you to relax after working a long shift, and he urged you he could put Mai down to bed.
“Nooo!” Little footsteps ran with a flutter of hurry from the bedroom to the living room. “Mommy, noo!”
Mai’s cheeks were rosy and big tears were falling down her face, and she quickly climbed onto the couch and into your lap.
“Mai, please let your mommy go, it’s time for bed-“ Katsuki tried to reach out for Mai but the little girl screamed bloody murder.
“No! No Suki! Go away!” Mai huddled closer to your chest, sniffling.
“Baby, don’t be mean to Katsuki,” you softly chastised. “He’s just trying to help.”
Rubbing Mai’s back, you rocked your baby against your chest.
“Mommy, no sleep. Suki being mean!” Mai was cranky, you could tell and her misdirected anger was a tad funny coming from the toddler.
Katsuki sighed, running a hand through his hair. You realized then that Katsuki didn’t understand that Mai was sleepy but fighting it, which meant turning her anger towards him.
“Hey missy, you’re making Suki sad.” You pressed a kiss to her forehead, Mai looking up at Katsuki in shock at your words.
“He just wants to be your friend, and friends don’t be mean to each other.” You recalled some simple life lesson from Mai’s favorite cartoon, and your daughter immediately sympathizes.
“Suki my friend?” Mai looked to you, eyes wide but now tear free.
“Yes my love, Suki is your friend and he’s mommy’s friend too,” you explained. Mai nodded, like it all was clicking for her.
“You say sorry to Katsuki?”
“Sowwy Suki,” Mai jutted out her bottom lip, hands now reaching for the hero.
Katsuki smiled, taking her in his arms. “It’s okay baby.” He kisses her forehead, leaning her weight into his forearm and holding out his free hand towards you.
“How about mommy and I put you to bed? Would you like that?” Katsuki asked Mai.
Your heart squeezed, setting down your glass and immediately hugging Katsuki’s side.
“Yes! Mommy sing and Suki read!” Mai clapped cheerfully, making Katsuki and you laugh at her orders, but you both knew you’d do anything for her.
#ahhhhhh Katsuki would be so scared if he had to deal with a tantrum#he’d take it to heart#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katuski#bnha bakugou#mha bakugou
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Yandere!Hero (Chosen One) x Saint!Reader
Being the Hero – the Chosen One – means that the world’s fate is on Elias’ shoulders. He’s long since forgotten how to live for himself, his life belonging to everyone but him. He’s merely a puppet that’s being strung along by the world for the sole purpose of saving it.
At first, he was honored to be chosen as the Hero – it’s a privilege most don’t get. But everyone expects too much – everything – from him. His life is carefully shaped into what others want of him, people only looking at his role and not him as a person.
Now, he fights and saves people due to duty, not desire. There is no sparkle of pride when he helps villagers. Instead, all that is left is another thing checked off of his mental checklist. Now, he just wants to rest. He just wants things to be over.
So that’s why he despised the idea that some Saint from the Church would be his “helper.” Traveling with someone else is only going to slow him down. Not to mention the fact that he doubts the Saint has ever seen bloodshed and disease like he has.
But when he actually meets and travels with you, the Saint, he realizes that you’re actually not that bad. You’re actually kind of nice. He’d expected you to turn your nose at the commoner population, refusing to heal them, but you actively seek them out to help. You’re kind and gentle, but headstrong. Even when you’re visibly exhausted, you do your best to keep going.
It’s… kind of impressive, actually. He had misjudged you, perhaps.
Even now, you’re helping the knights that were attacked by bandits (which Elias had vanquished), healing not only their bodies but their souls, too. He can’t help but look at you, a raw beacon of kindness that he hasn’t seen before in his travels.
Once you’re done healing the knights, you look up at him, before a gasp escapes your lips. “Elias!”
He blinks at you, curiously.
“You’re bleeding!”
“Ah.” Elias looks down at his hand, blood dripping down his fingers. He had instinctively grabbed a knife by the blade earlier because he wouldn’t have been able to dodge it in time. “This is nothing.”
“Oh, shush!” you say, approaching him. You push him towards a tree stump, forcing him to sit, which he allows. Carefully, you take his hand in yours, frown deep set on your mouth. Your hand is so warm that it makes his heart burn.
“You’re tired,” he states, bluntly. He doesn’t tug his hand out of yours. “You’ve healed too many people.”
“I can–”
“No.” He shakes his head. “Rest for now, Saint. I am fine.” And he’s right – he’s the Hero, after all. His wounds heal much faster and better than a normal human being. He doesn’t necessarily need your healing.
“Still,” you murmur, looking up at him. “Can I at least clean and bandage it?”
It’s pointless, really, but Elias says, “Do what you want.”
So you do. You disinfect and clean his wound, before carefully wrapping his hand with bandages. For some reason, his heart squeezes painfully as he watches you tend to him so gently. He doesn’t remember if anyone’s ever treated him this kindly.
“There.” You look proud of yourself. It’s kind of cute.
“You didn’t have to,” he mutters without really thinking about it.
You give him a smile that makes his brain stop. “I wanted to. I want to support you.”
For some reason, your words almost make him want to cry. He’s not sure why – he’s seen so much death and destruction to the point that his emotions have become numb. Yet, you bring flickers of his feelings back to him – happiness, sadness, anger, love.
You make him feel like he has an existence beyond just being the Hero. You make him feel human.
So, how can he let you go? He can’t – and he’ll do everything he can to make you his. Even if it means he has to destroy the world.
#yandere oc#male yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#tw yandere#tsuuper ocs#yandere hero x reader#yandere imagines#yandere boyfriend#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#Elias Lightrend Tsuu OC#male yandere oc x reader#male yandere oc#2024 yan/monstertober tsuutarr#i love this loser#he's so...... listen i have Thoughts#he hasn't had a lot of human interactions since he's traveling as the Hero TM to safe the world#so darling is the rare person he's been able to talk to + darling is like. the one person that doesn't expect things from him#and darling is one of the ppl that want to HELP him#so darling means a LOT go Elias and im just-- LISTEN
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
arcane characters breaking up with you x fem reader
characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.
writer's note: gosh i loovee drama i'ts so spicy and fun! btw i cried a lot with ekko's... anyways request are open, darlings ;)
reconciliation link:
alternative sad final link:
Viktor
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7c83a86236f59a12d7acf5691d7f22f6/20190e9f2fce7ece-fa/s540x810/8c3255dac5adb996528101875179d0b66d4b14ea.jpg)
The laboratory was shrouded in a deep silence, the kind of silence that feels heavy, as if the air itself was dense, pressing down on your chest. The light from the screens flickered in the darkness, casting shadows that moved with the rhythm of the science Viktor had created. He was there, motionless in front of the table covered in blueprints, his head lowered, as if struggling with something he couldn’t share.
You stood there for a moment, watching him in silence, waiting for him to break the silence, but something in his posture told you he wouldn’t. The distance between you felt greater than you could bear, and the knot in your stomach grew heavier with each passing second. Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer.
“Viktor…” Your voice trembled, but you forced it to sound strong. Every word felt like a challenge to your own fear. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t look at you, but his shoulders tensed. The sigh that escaped his lips was full of something you couldn’t recognize. It wasn’t frustration, nor exhaustion. It was something worse, something you already feared.
“You don’t understand, do you?” he finally said, his voice low but clear. “I can’t stop now. This is bigger than us. I can’t lose what I’ve been building. The machine… the transformation… It’s the only way to save myself, to save us.”
A cold shiver ran down your spine. It couldn’t be. You were sure you must have misheard, but the words kept echoing in your head like a drumbeat. It wasn’t just about science. It wasn’t just his obsession. Viktor was pushing you away. And the pain, the pain was unbearable.
You stepped forward, your heart pounding in your throat. How could he do this to you?
“Is that all I am to you?” Your voice was a whisper, but the venom of desperation was there, cutting through your words. “An obstacle? Something you have to leave behind? All this time, everything I’ve done for you… And this is what I get?”
Finally, Viktor looked at you. But it wasn’t the look you expected. His eyes, so cold, so distant, weren’t the eyes of the person you had known. It wasn’t the Viktor you had protected, the one you had loved. It was someone else, someone who no longer saw in you what they once did.
“I do love you, you know?” he said, his voice broken, as if the words were becoming harder and harder to say. “I love you more than you can imagine, but this… this is bigger than us. This is the future, and I can’t risk losing it because… because of something as small as my own feelings.”
The words came out of his mouth as though they were the only thing left inside him. And you, standing there in front of him, felt the ground crumbling beneath your feet. The pain, the betrayal, cut through you like blades.
“And what about us, Viktor?” you said, unable to stop the mix of anger and sadness in your voice. “What about everything we’ve shared? Everything we’ve been through together? Doesn’t that mean anything? Nothing to you?”
He took a step back, each word he spoke a wall being built between you two. With each word, you felt smaller, more invisible. As if he had already made his choice.
“I can’t go on. I can’t be the person you need. If I stay… if I stay with you, all of this… everything I’ve built, everything I am, will crumble. I can’t be that person anymore.”
The pain overwhelmed you in an instant. A silent sob began to rise, but you didn’t let it escape. The knot in your throat tightened, but the words couldn’t come out anymore. You felt empty, as if the air you were breathing was the same air that had killed everything that once meant something to you.
“Then, goodbye, Viktor.” Your words were a broken whisper. “I can’t wait for you to choose between me and your obsessions. I won’t stay here, watching you lose yourself in something you don’t even know what it is.”
Viktor didn’t say anything more. There was no attempt to stop you, no plea, not even a look of regret. Just the sound of his breathing, shallow, as if something inside him was breaking too, but it was too late.
The door slammed shut behind you, the sound of the wood ringing in your ears. And Viktor, inside, remained alone with his experiments, his machines, and the man who had decided that everything else had to go.
Jinx
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/03bf6cd41b0f44c296f70a056fab7a3a/20190e9f2fce7ece-ca/s540x810/c6f0e6bf3c49bf55814a2c6d5c22833efafdaf1e.jpg)
You approached her softly, as you always did, trying to calm her, trying to make her focus on you again. But you knew this wasn’t the same Jinx who used to laugh and be unpredictable. Something in her gaze told you she had gotten lost, that her thoughts were no longer hers, that the chaos in her mind had taken control.
Suddenly, Jinx stopped moving. She stood still, staring into the void, and everything around her grew quieter. Then, she began to murmur, as if speaking to herself, but her words weren’t clear. You grew concerned, stepping closer, but that was when her body reacted violently, out of control.
You didn’t understand what was happening until you felt the sting of a blow. You hadn’t seen it coming, but the pain hit you instantly. In that moment, fear took over, and your body trembled as you tried to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened. Jinx looked at you, but her eyes weren’t focused on you. She was trapped, lost in a hallucination.
The voices started. “Kill her! She’s going to betray you, Jinx! Kill her before she leaves you!” The voice was cruel, disdainful, so cold. And then, another voice, softer but equally terrifying: “She hates you. She doesn’t want you, Jinx. Let her go before you do it again!”
You froze, watching the confusion in her eyes, the terror on her face. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t the Jinx you knew. She was caught in an internal struggle, a battle that you couldn’t fight for her.
You stepped closer to her, despite the blood dripping from your nose and your trembling hands. Jinx was crouched down, her eyes lost in an empty space, her hands covering her face as if she could hide the pain and chaos she had just caused. But you knew you couldn’t run from this. You couldn’t leave her now. Not after everything you’d been through together. And not after the promise you made to her.
“Sweets,” you whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure she could hear you. “Please, look at me.”
Tears kept falling from her eyes, but she didn’t see you. Jinx didn’t see you. And the blow she had struck you moments ago seemed like a distant memory compared to what was happening now: the emptiness she was feeling. The war in her head.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” she whispered, her voice broken, shattered. “I didn’t want… I didn’t want to hurt you. I can’t… I can’t do it again. I… I hurt you.”
You knelt in front of her, searching for her eyes, feeling the knot in your throat. But she wouldn’t look at you. She was trapped. And you knew what that meant.
“Wake up, babe,” you said firmly, taking her hands. “I promised you. I won’t leave you. Not now, not ever.”
The voices in her mind began to rumble, like an overwhelming wave, growing louder, rougher. “She’s going to kill you! Kill her before it’s too late! It’s best for her! Do it now!”
“No… no,” Jinx said, covering her ears as if she could silence them. “No… I’ll hurt you… I don’t want to lose you! I swear I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m a monster!”
You stood up, forcing Jinx to look at you, taking her by the shoulders. “You’re not a monster. You’re not, Jinx. I promised you I wouldn’t leave you. I promised!”
But Jinx started sobbing, with a desperation so deep it hurt to see her like this. “You… you don’t understand. I’m the cause of all this. I’m the worst for you… It’s going to hurt so much if I stay close. You’re going to die! I’m the reason why you…”
“No!” you interrupted, gripping her hands tightly. “Don’t say that. I’m not leaving. I need you. You’re the only one who… who has understood me. Don’t leave me. I promised I’d be by your side.”
Jinx pulled away from you with a sigh, her face filled with guilt and desperation. “You deserve something better, something… more. You don’t have to stay. You don’t have to put up with my madness, you don’t have to stay for me.”
“I don’t want to be with anyone else!” you shouted, desperate. “You’re what I want. You’re what I’ve always wanted. Don’t leave me!”
But Jinx walked away, her steps wavering but firm. “I can’t… I don’t want to be the cause of your death, the cause of… the worst. You’ve given me everything, you’ve given me more than I deserve, but… you could be happy without me. I’m a burden, a curse. And… and I don’t want to lose you more. I don’t want to kill you.”
The voices in her mind grew more intense, more cruel: “Do it! Let her go, Jinx! She’s better off without you.”
“Wait!” you screamed, your eyes filled with tears. “You’re not a burden! I love you, Jinx, I love you! I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone, and I won’t leave you now!”
But Jinx’s words were clear, heartbreaking. “You… you’d be happy without me. I’m the reason for all the pain, for everything that’s made you suffer. And if I stay… I’ll hurt you, I’ll always do it.”
Jinx took a step back, her heart breaking inside, while you kept holding on to her. “I’m leaving. Because… because if I stay close, I’ll do the same thing as always. And you… don’t deserve that.”
“No,” you whispered, your voice broken but determined. “I need you. I need you, Jinx.”
But she was already so lost in her own mind that she couldn’t hear you.
She looked at you for a long moment, her eyes filled with guilt and sadness, and with a painful sigh, she turned away. “I’m sorry… I swear. I’m so sorry.” And in that instant, she left you behind.
Vi
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/69d5140004b6947689585419a6da89ff/20190e9f2fce7ece-07/s540x810/5e1e166954a3160e8ec71e5feb4d770362bcccef.jpg)
When you enter the house, the sound of Vi limping towards you makes you take a step forward. You stay still, observing her wounds: a black eye, swollen lips, blood still dripping from a cut on her arm.
"Vi," you begin, anger taking over you, "You can't keep doing this! I can't see you like this! For a few damn coins? I can pay for everything you need, whatever you want, you don't have to do this!"
Vi shoots you a glaring look, her breath heavy from the effort, but her pride intact. "What do you know, huh? What the hell do you know about sacrifice? About fighting to survive, about having no other option but to fuck yourself over to get more than scraps?"
"You don't have to fight, Vi. You don't have to risk your life like this, for a few damn coins. I can give you whatever you want!" you shout, tears threatening to spill, the helplessness making your voice tremble. "I don't want you to hurt yourself for pride! I want you, and you're killing me seeing you like this!"
Vi takes a step back, her look as hard as stone. "I don't need anything from you! No money, no help! I can take care of myself, do you hear me? I'm not your damn fragile doll, I'm not your entertainment! I'm not your fucking fun."
"It's not that! It's not fun, I care about you, Vi! I can't stand seeing you destroy yourself over something so stupid!" Your breathing grows more ragged, your heart pounding hard in your chest. "I don't want you to keep destroying yourself for pride!"
Vi laughs bitterly, her tone cruel. "You think you're the only one who knows what it is to suffer? You think just because you're some princess from Piltover you can judge me for what I do, for what I am? You've never had to fight for anything in your life! You were born in a fucking silk bed, surrounded by luxuries, and you don't know what it's like to live in the shit, in the mud of Zaun."
The poison in her words hits you like a slap. "Why do you judge me like that when you know it's not true? I've told you, I want to help you, get you out of this shitty life that's consuming you."
Vi takes another step back, her eyes full of disdain. "And what, now you want to make me your project? Your experiment? A poor girl from Zaun who can throw her whole world away just so you can feel better about yourself? Is that what you want? To have a 'girl from the slums' story? I bet you'd get bored of me! Of me and what I am!"
Your words choke in your throat, the truth of her accusations ripping through the air between you. Vi keeps staring harshly, stepping back again. "I'm not what you need, and that's it. I don't want you to be my savior, I don't want to be your fucking project. I'm not going to stay here, waiting for you to cure me, to turn me into something I'm not."
"Vi..." you whisper, tears now falling uncontrollably from your face. "Why... why are you doing this to me?"
"Because we don't have to be together. If I stay with you, I'll just kill you too." Vi takes one last step back, and her voice softens, but not enough to stop the damage. "I don't want to be your fun anymore, I don't want to be your damn experiment. I want you to be happy, to live your life. Far from me."
The silence says it all. Vi turns around, and before you can say anything else, she leaves, leaving you alone in the cold space, with only your tears and her broken words remaining.
Caitlyn
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/99f69064b8c95db6ea095500e3f5586e/20190e9f2fce7ece-b0/s540x810/3bb1b8fde63cc87566e01ceba558bbd3f4bcdc91.jpg)
The light in the cell is dim, the coldness of the place surrounds you as you stand there, completely in shock. The shackles on your wrists are a brutal reminder of what just happened. You can't believe it. Caitlyn, the woman who showed you love, the one you thought would never hurt you, has left you here, between these cold and dark walls.
The door creaks open, and there she is, Caitlyn. Her face, usually full of compassion and determination, is now empty, almost indifferent. You watch her approach, and for a moment, you hope she'll come to free you, that she'll tell you it was all a misunderstanding. But no.
"Why?" you manage to say, your voice broken with pain. "Cait... do you really think I could betray you?"
She doesn't answer immediately. She just looks at you with eyes full of conflict, her face serious, even cold. The tension in the air is palpable, and you can see the internal struggle in her. Finally, she sighs, and her words come out of her mouth like a sentence.
"I don't know," she replies coldly. "You're under suspicion now. I can't let you escape."
The weight of her words falls on you like a stone. Your heart stops for a moment, and a lump in your throat prevents you from speaking. You can't believe what you've just heard. The woman who swore to protect you, the one who shared your bed and your laughter, now accuses you of being a traitor.
"But... I just wanted to bring peace, Caitlyn," you whisper, feeling how despair is consuming you. "How can you think I would do something like that? I didn't want to hurt anyone. I just wanted..." The words break in your throat, and the anguish in your chest is unbearable. "Do you really think I'll be capable of lying to you and cause a revolution?"
Caitlyn closes her eyes for a moment, as if she’s searching for answers she can’t find. "I can't risk it, I can't let what you did go unanswered," she says, her voice harder now. "My duty is to Piltover, to justice. I can't be weak."
You step closer to her, hands outstretched, tears overflowing from your eyes. "Caitlyn, please, don't do this to me... I'm not the traitor you think I am. I love you. We promised we'll always have each other's back. Don't you remember that?"
She takes a step back, and her expression hardens even more. "I'm sorry," she says with a broken voice, but her eyes show no regret. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I can't let you remain free, not after everything you've put into doubt."
And before you can say anything else, Caitlyn turns her back to you, her footsteps moving away. "I'll keep you in the cell until everything is resolved," she says without turning. "But I can't trust you now."
The door slams shut with a metallic noise, and the sound of the locks clicking into place is all you hear. You fall to your knees, the anguish overtaking you. All you wanted was to be with her, to do the right thing, but now you're here, a prisoner of a justice you don't understand. The betrayal hurts, not because it was done to you, but because the person you love most has now turned their back on you.
Jayce
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5eb2358560d8637fe579acd11ad70bfd/20190e9f2fce7ece-c4/s540x810/6bf5325252fc3a76f3e2dd9a193f2d0d35e4144f.jpg)
The conversation had started calmly, like all the others. But something had changed. The tension in the air grew as the words left your lips, and you could see the discomfort on Jayce's face.
"Jayce, enough," you say, your words full of frustration. "I know you want to do great things, but not at the cost of everything else. You can't keep sacrificing everything for your ambition."
He looks at you, surprise and annoyance mixing in his eyes. "I don't understand what you mean," he replies, his tone tense. "Do you think I'm doing this just for myself? I'm fighting for a better future for everyone."
"You don't see it, Jayce!" you shout, unable to contain the emotion choking you. "You've forgotten about the people who really matter to you. Everything you do is for power, for control, for your image. There's no place for me in your life, no space for what we are."
Jayce crosses his arms, his gaze harder than ever. "Is that what you think? That everything I do makes no sense? I'm trying to save Piltover, build something bigger than us. And what do you want? For me to give you more time to be by your side? For everything to revolve around you?"
The pain pierces your chest like a dagger. "It was never about that, Jayce," you say with a broken voice. "I always wanted to be by your side, support you in what you do. But I feel like a shadow. Like you can never see me, like my life, my dreams, everything I am, isn't enough."
He takes a step back, and the distance between the two of you seems to grow with every word that leaves his mouth. "You don't understand," he says coldly, his eyes now so distant. "What I do is bigger than anything I could offer you. If you can't understand that, if you can't meet me at my level, then maybe we're not what we thought we were."
"What are you saying?" you ask, feeling your heart flip. "Are you telling me that everything we've been doesn't matter? That I'm not enough for you?"
Jayce takes a deep breath, as if trying to calm his own thoughts before speaking. "It's not that. But I'm tired of you asking me to put you above everything I'm trying to build. If that means losing you, then..." his voice cracks for a second, but he recovers quickly. "Then it's what I have to do."
An emptiness opens in your stomach, and the world seems to crumble around you. "So you're leaving me. Just like that, as if I never meant anything to you." You look at him with disappointment.
Jayce lowers his gaze, avoiding your eyes, and his words hit like a blow. "I don't want you dragging me backward. You have to understand, I can't do this anymore."
Tears well up in your eyes, but you don't let them fall. "If that's what you want, Jayce, if that's what you really think is best for you, then goodbye. I hope you don't lose yourself on your way to perfection."
And in that moment, the words between you become empty. Jayce turns around, without even looking at you one more time, and walks away without saying another word. You stand there, in the middle of the place you once considered your refuge, while the echo of his indifference lingers in your ears.
Ekko
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6b15a3f58f359f5f90f77d6d6aa84fb6/20190e9f2fce7ece-e5/s540x810/f289dbd124bc82970ff42882d5c609585ed5764f.jpg)
The house is silent, but the air is thick with tension. Ekko's gaze, which usually radiated passion and energy, now seems empty, lost in thoughts that don't include you. You watch him from the door, the knot in your throat preventing you from speaking.
"Ekko," you manage to say, your voice almost breaking, "I can't take it anymore."
He looks at you, seeming surprised, but he doesn't approach. The silence stretches between you two, as if you both know what's coming but neither of you wants to say it.
"What can't you take anymore?" his voice is low, as if he's too exhausted to argue. "What do you want me to do, huh? I'm doing what I have to do for Zaun, for everyone here. I can't just stop. I can't anymore."
"Can't stop? Are you really saying that?" Anger begins to take control, and helplessness mixes with pain. "Ekko, I've been watching you disappear more and more into your missions, your plans, everything that keeps you busy in Zaun. And I... what am I to you? A nuisance? A distraction?"
Ekko takes a step back, the exhaustion on his face becoming more evident. "It's not that, but..." He falls silent for a moment, as if words aren't enough to explain how he feels. "I can't keep living in two worlds, in two realities, and you know it. Zaun needs all of me, and you... you don't understand what that means. I can't be the Zaun guy and be your boyfriend at the same time."
"So, all of this was a mistake?" you ask, desperation about to drown you. "Everything we shared? Everything we built? Doesn't that matter? Does Zaun matter more?"
"Yes, sometimes it matters more," Ekko replies, his voice cold, but his gaze betrays him. "You... you're part of my life, I know. But I have to be objective and realistic, and no matter how much I love you, right now, you can't be a priority in my life. I can't be who you want me to be anymore. I can't be the guy who fights for you and for Zaun at the same time. I need to be one or the other, and Zaun needs me now."
"And I need you too," you say, the pain in your words, "but you don't see it anymore, do you? I'm not enough, I'm not what you need. I feel used and stupid," you said angrily, kicking a chair.
Ekko looks at you, his gaze wavering, as if there's an internal struggle he can't win. "Believe me, no one wants this to work more than I do, baby, but I... I'm not capable of giving you what you want, and neither are you to me."
The silence stretches into what feels like an eternity. You approach him, desperation overtaking you. "Ekko, please. Think about it one more time, we can't leave things like this. You've taught me to fight. Isn't it worth fighting for this?"
"Sometimes there are battles that aren't worth fighting because you know you'll never win them," he said, his words burning like acid in his throat. He kissed your forehead and stepped away from your personal space. "I'm sorry..." he murmured, and for a moment, he seemed tempted to hug you, but he didn't. "I'm sorry. But this is what's best for both of us."
The words destroy both of you.
Reality hits you like a bucket of cold water in the middle of winter. Everything you'd feared, everything you'd known deep in your heart, is happening. Ekko is pulling away, and even though you understand, you can't accept that the love you shared is no longer enough to keep him.
"Is this for real?" you ask, tears falling uncontrollably. "Is this what you're giving me? A cold goodbye because Zaun is more important than me?"
"Zaun needs a leader," Ekko replies, his voice broken but resolute. "And I need to be that leader. I can't be what you need, not now."
You stand there, feeling how the void between you grows larger, as Ekko turns and walks away, taking with him the last hope of what once was.
Silco
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f3945a87215930e508cfad01b30e066f/20190e9f2fce7ece-a6/s540x810/66e33104f0ecc8f72428c45834d330c167cf6b46.jpg)
The rain hit the windows of Silco's office with force, the sound almost deafening as you leaned against the wall, breathing irregularly. You had been rescued again, once more on the brink of death, another attempt on your life, and once again, Silco was there to save you. But something in his gaze, cold, distant, made you fear the worst. You didn’t understand what was happening, but something had changed. Something in him.
“This is over,” he said after a long pause.
“What do you mean by that?” Your voice trembled.
Silco looked at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t read, something darker than the usual shadow he carried. He took a step toward you, but his presence was no longer comforting. His gaze remained fixed, as if he was deliberately pushing you away from him.
“It’s for the best,” his tone was low, almost hesitant, but the coldness in his words made you freeze. “I can't keep exposing you to this. You don't belong in this world. I can’t risk you anymore.”
“What are you saying?” Your words barely came out, drowned by the pain of his cold resolve. “Silco… you don’t have the right to decide for me. I choose to stay, I choose to remain here by your side.”
He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he took another step back. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice deeper than ever. “I don’t want to protect you anymore. You’re a burden, a burden I can’t carry any longer. I’m tired of you.”
The blow was like a stab to the chest. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. “What? You’re tired of me?” Your words came out choked, unable to grasp the cruelty he had just expressed.
“The rumors are true,” he said with a harshness that froze the air between you both. “I’ve only seen you as a little distraction. A good pet. A weakness. Nothing more. I had fun, yes, but that’s over. I’ve found something better.”
“No… that can’t be…” you said, but when you saw the coldness in his eyes, something inside you shattered.
Silco didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on you, and for a moment, everything felt like a lie. Then, with a cruel indifference, he said, “You were never my equal. You were just a pastime, something I could have for myself. Something no one else could have. But you're replaceable. We all are.”
“That’s not true,” you whispered, struggling against the knot in your throat. “How can you say that?”
“I’m getting tired of repeating myself. I don’t want you in my life anymore. You’re no longer useful to me, you only bring me problems,” his voice was now firm, unyielding. “So go. I don’t need any more weaknesses in my life.”
The words were like a sentence. Everything you had ever felt for him, everything you had believed you shared, crumbled in that moment. There was nothing left. With your heart shattered, you took a deep breath and, without another word, turned away.
As you walked toward the door, the echo of your footsteps filled the empty office. Silco watched you, but did nothing to stop you. There was nothing left to say.
When the door closed behind you, silence filled the room. Silco stood there, in the darkness, his fists clenched, the pain in his chest stronger than any wound he had ever suffered before. For the first time in years, a single tear ran down his face. But no one saw it. He was alone, and that was all he deserved.
Mel
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/189ea445a3b31140e35cd2758a90a757/20190e9f2fce7ece-9e/s540x810/256ac63a3d3dce694ff81e6d12810cc59a60ca8a.jpg)
Mel's bedroom was silent, illuminated only by the faint light of the early morning hours. The bed, still messy, bore witness to a night of passion, but also to something much deeper that had been growing between the two of you. The sheets, tangled together, seemed to reflect the tension that now filled the space. The room, which had once been a warm refuge, was now soaked in a thick, suffocating atmosphere.
You sat on the edge of the bed, watching how Mel lay with her back to you, her face hidden in the pillow, breathing irregularly, as if she were still searching for something she couldn’t find. It wasn’t physical exhaustion that was affecting her, but something much deeper.
"Mel..." you said, your voice low but filled with an anguish you couldn’t control. “What’s happening between us?”
She didn’t move at first, as if she hadn’t heard you, but the weight of your words finally reached her. She turned over, and when her eyes met yours, something in her gaze made you fear the worst. It wasn’t the look of the woman you loved. It was something much more distant, something you couldn’t understand.
"I'm sorry... I can't keep doing this," she said, her voice, though soft, tinged with a hardness you couldn’t ignore. "I can't keep dragging you into this."
"What do you mean?" you asked, unable to comprehend what she had just said. "I won’t let you push me away. I won’t allow it."
Mel sighed and sat up, her eyes reflecting an exhaustion that seemed to surpass the physical. "It’s not about that... I don’t want to keep exposing you to all of this," she said, pressing her lips together with a determination that hurt. "I’m putting you in danger. It’s not fair to you."
"I don’t care," you replied, moving closer to her, your words heavy with desperation. "I don’t care what happens. All I want is to be with you."
But Mel didn’t give in, and instead of softening, her expression hardened even more. "You don’t understand, do you? I... I’m not enough for you. I can’t be what you need. I can’t keep being this, being... who I am."
"And what are you, Mel?" you asked, pain clear in your voice. "Ambessa’s daughter? The woman who lives under her shadow, trying to be someone she’ll never be? You’re not just that. You’re not. You’re... you’re the woman I want, the woman I love. But you keep running from it."
Mel, hearing your words, took a step back, as if an invisible force had pushed her away. The look in her eyes was painful, as if your words had struck her to the core. "You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to be Ambessa’s daughter," she said, her voice cracked with frustration. "You don’t know what it’s like to do everything for her, for her approval."
"No I don't," you replied, unable to hold back the heat of your own truth. "But what I know is what it’s like to try to be what others want. To try to please someone who’ll never see you for what you truly are. And still, you stay there, looking for something you can’t even define."
Mel fell silent, her face paling with each of your words, but you wouldn’t stop. Not after everything you’d tried. "I’m telling you, I don’t care what you do. I don’t care if you have to live under her shadow forever. I just want to be with you. But you... you can’t see that you’re losing what matters most. What you have left. What we could be."
"It’s just that I can’t... I can’t give it all up for you," she whispered, her gaze lost, almost disoriented. "I’m not enough for you. I can’t be."
"Why do you keep saying that?" you said, your voice breaking. "Why do you keep seeking her approval? You don’t have to be her perfect daughter, Mel. You have to be you. But you keep seeking her love, and you’ll never find it. It will never be enough for her. And as long as you stay there, you keep losing yourself."
She closed her eyes, as if your words pierced her, but she didn’t say anything more. The silence between you two became unbearable, and finally, Mel looked down, tears welling up in her eyes. "I’m telling you, I can’t keep going with you," she murmured, and this time it wasn’t a doubt, it was a statement.
You stayed there, frozen, unable to move a muscle. "What?" you whispered, unable to believe what she had just said.
"What I’m saying is that... I can’t keep being what you need. I can’t be happy like this. I can’t keep fighting for something I don’t have."
You couldn’t believe it, the words slipped from your mouth, but they didn’t find the right form to come out. "But, Mel, you don’t have to be what they want. You don’t have to live under her shadow. Why don’t you see it? I don’t want you for what you are to others, I want you for what you are to me."
Mel looked at you then, and for a moment, you thought everything could be resolved. But the look in her eyes wasn’t the same anymore. It was empty, sad, as if she had given up everything she once was. "I can’t stay here, I can’t keep doing this," she murmured, and with those words, she turned away, walking away from you.
Your heart shattered, but it wasn’t the pain that stopped you. It was the anguish of knowing that, despite everything you shared, she would never be able to leave that shadow, that need to please her mother.
And as she walked away, the words echoed in your mind over and over again: "I’ll never be enough. I’m not enough for her. I’m not enough for you."
Sevika
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f80bb4f41ef8306a1bdf93e22b1810cf/20190e9f2fce7ece-f8/s540x810/7a6c5163b848d68daa04dd68ac608943a746707b.jpg)
You find yourself with Sevika in her usual spot, where the world seems to stand still, surrounded by ruins and rubble. The atmosphere is thick with silence, but there's something in her eyes you can't ignore. There's tension in the air, as if a conflict is about to erupt.
"Sevika," you call, your heart racing. "We need to talk."
She turns toward you slowly, and her eyes seem colder than you've ever seen them. "I know," she replies, her voice deep and cutting. "I've been waiting for you."
You approach, but Sevika's gaze feels so distant, so detached from you. Something is wrong, and you know it. You can't stop the doubts from forming in your mind.
"Why have you been pulling away from me?" you ask, the knot in your throat growing tighter. "What's happening between us?"
Sevika crosses her arms, her posture more defiant than ever. "Don't you know? I told you, remember? I'm no good for you. I'm not what you need."
You furrow your brow, confused. "What are you talking about? I've never asked you to be anything else. I accept you as you are. I love you, Sevika."
She takes a step back, distancing herself from you, as if your closeness burns her. "That's what you don't understand. You think this is love, but what you're seeing isn't it. What you see in me is just an illusion. I'm just using you to get what I need: a little comfort, a distraction from the damn chaos of this city. But I don't want you to keep deceiving yourself. I'm not someone you can save, and I don't want you wasting your time with me."
Your words catch in your throat. "No... don't say that. I'm not deceiving myself, Sevika. I want to be by your side, through thick and thin. Why are you saying all of this?"
Sevika laughs, but it's not a laugh that gives you peace. It's cold, bitter, as if she's laughing at a cruel joke. "Because you're weak. And I don't want to drag you into this shitty world anymore. I don't want you to be another victim of what I am. And the worst part is, you don't even get it. You're a dreamer, an idealist, but there's no room for that here. There's no room for love in Zaun, there's only pain. And you won't be able to handle it."
"I don't want to leave you. I can't leave you," you respond, moving closer, but Sevika takes another step back, her face hardened by an internal battle. "I can't live with the thought of you pushing me away."
"Well, that's what's going to happen," she says, her voice so cold it echoes through the emptiness of the factory. "I'm leaving you because I can never be what you expect. I'll drag you into the darkness, I'll sink you even deeper than you already are. And that, that would ruin you. I have nothing left to offer you."
You're frozen, the pain piercing through your chest. "No... don't do this, Sevika. Please. Don't leave me alone."
"I left you the moment I accepted this damn world," Sevika says, and you can see a single tear silently roll down her face. "The only thing I offer you is more suffering, and that's the last thing I want for you. Forget me. And go, before I end up destroying you."
"No! I won't leave you!" you shout, but the desperation in your voice is futile. Sevika looks at you, but there's no warmth in her eyes anymore, only emptiness. "You're going to be happy without me. I'm not the person you need."
Before you can say anything else, Sevika turns around, walking toward the exit of the factory, leaving you alone in that dark, cold corner. The last image of her, her figure fading into the darkness, breaks you completely. You know that what she just told you isn't a lie, and that maybe, just maybe, she was right.
But what destroys you more is that you love her so much, and you can't bear the thought of losing her forever.
#arcane x reader#arcane fanfic#arcane imagine#arcane x female reader#arcane#arcane angst#viktor x you#viktor arcane#viktor x reader#jinx x reader#jinx arcane#vi x you#vi x reader#vi arcane#caitlyn x you#arcane caitlyn#caitlyn x reader#jayce x reader#jayce arcane#ekko x reader#ekko arcane#silco x reader#silco arcane#sevika x reader#sevika arcane#mel x reader#mel arcane#viktor x y/n#vi x y/n#sevika x you
808 notes
·
View notes
Text
F1 GRID | it was never meant to be (1/2)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/97c7d39855b3b4d96319b8d4d8b679fc/fef49047dc395a68-94/s540x810/f11813f9ac85c8706b4a75fd4b003394c5a6d319.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6e55ffcbb942c6abd8dddc4a361cfa2a/fef49047dc395a68-af/s540x810/2a71f949219fb52426cc0399d5a2b10b68924f33.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/79e3defa11c34060f67d4f03bfd6cd18/fef49047dc395a68-0b/s540x810/9fb195b891e020206500d6c87c374fc688aef03b.jpg)
୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, franco colapinto ୨ৎ : synopsis : your f1 boyfriend's publicist suggests he should date someone with more status in front of the camera, he agrees to it, but what happens to your relationship when his "fake relationship" with her blossoms into something more.
୨ৎ : genre : heartbreak, angst, sad themes ୨ৎ : tws : arguing, break-up, cheating ୨ৎ : word count : 2703
୨ৎ masterlist ୨ৎ
୨ৎ part two (carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri) ୨ৎ
ᡣ𐭩 a/n : got this idea from my sister, she lowkey cooked.
ʚ・max verstappen
the hotel room felt colder than usual, despite the late spring air outside. you sat on the edge of the bed, your hands trembling slightly as max paced in front of you, his movements restless, his eyes fixed on the floor.
“you promised me,” you said, your voice quiet but filled with an unmistakable tremor of pain. “you promised me it was just an act.”
max froze, his back to you, his broad shoulders rising and falling with a shaky exhale. he didn’t turn around.
“what happened?” you pressed, your voice breaking as tears welled in your eyes. “what changed?”
his silence was louder than any answer he could have given.
you stood, the ache in your chest unbearable as you closed the space between you. “look at me, max,” you demanded, your voice sharp now, desperate. “say it. tell me it wasn’t real. tell me you didn’t—”
“i can’t,” he interrupted, his voice hoarse, raw. he finally turned to face you, his blue eyes filled with guilt and something else you couldn’t quite name. regret? pain? relief?
your breath hitched, and the room spun for a moment as the truth settled like lead in your stomach. “you fell in love with her,” you whispered, the words barely audible.
he didn’t deny it.
“how could you?” you choked out, tears spilling freely now. “you swore to me, max. you swore it was just for the cameras, that it was me you loved. how could you let this happen?”
“i didn’t mean to,” he said, his voice breaking as he ran a hand through his hair. “it wasn’t supposed to happen. i thought i could do it—i thought i could keep it separate. but… things changed.”
“things changed?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger. “what about us? what about everything we’ve been through? you don’t just fall out of love with someone, max! you don’t just replace them like—like they’re nothing!”
“you’re not nothing,” he said quickly, stepping closer, but you recoiled, the hurt too fresh, too raw. “i didn’t want this to happen. i didn’t plan it.”
“but it did,” you said bitterly, shaking your head. “you let it happen. you chose her. all those nights you spent with her, all those events, all those ‘pretend’ moments—somewhere along the way, you stopped pretending, didn’t you?”
he looked down, unable to meet your eyes.
you laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and empty. “i gave everything to you, max. i stood by you through everything—through the wins, the losses, the endless travel, the pressure. i loved you when you couldn’t even love yourself. and now you’re telling me that wasn’t enough?”
“it’s not about enough,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “you were everything, but… i changed. i don’t know how to explain it. i just… i’m not the same person i was when we started this. and maybe that’s why—”
“don’t you dare blame this on change,” you snapped, your hands balling into fists. “this isn’t about change, max. this is about you breaking every promise you ever made to me. it’s about you deciding that what we had wasn’t worth fighting for.”
“i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
“sorry?” you repeated, your voice shaking with disbelief. “you’re sorry? do you even realize what you’ve done to me? to us? you’ve destroyed everything, max. everything.”
he didn’t respond. he just stood there, his shoulders slumped, his eyes glistening with tears he refused to let fall.
he tried to step closer, his hand reaching for you, but you shook your head. “i hope she was worth it,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the pain. “because you’ve lost me.”
with that, you turned and walked out, leaving him standing there, the echo of your words hanging in the air.
ʚ・lewis hamilton
the evening was quiet, save for the soft hum of the london skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of lewis’s penthouse. he stood by the counter, his back to you, shoulders tense as he gripped the edge of the marble. you could feel the weight of the silence between you, a chasm that had only grown wider these past months.
“just say it, lewis,” you said, your voice soft but trembling. “i deserve that much.”
he exhaled, long and shaky, before finally turning to face you. his brown eyes, usually so warm and full of life, now held only guilt and a sadness that cut deep.
“it wasn’t supposed to happen like this,” he said, his voice barely audible.
your chest tightened, and you blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. “what wasn’t supposed to happen, lewis? you falling for her?”
he winced at your words, his jaw clenching as he looked away. “you know it started as a pr thing,” he said, almost defensively. “the team thought it would be good for my image—me and someone high-profile. someone who fit the brand.”
“and you agreed,” you said bitterly. “you promised me it was just for the cameras. you swore to me, lewis.”
“i thought it would be,” he said, his voice breaking. “i thought i could keep it separate. that it wouldn’t mean anything. but…”
“but what?” you snapped, taking a step closer, anger overtaking the ache in your chest. “you spent so much time pretending that you forgot it wasn’t real?”
his silence was deafening.
“i gave up so much for us,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “the constant travel, the scrutiny, always being second to your career. i did it because i loved you, lewis. because i believed in us. and now you’re telling me you fell out of love with me because you fell for her?”
“it’s not that simple,” he said, his voice rising slightly, though there was no anger behind it—only desperation. “you don’t understand what it’s like, the pressure, the expectations—”
“don’t you dare make this about your career,” you interrupted, shaking your head. “i stood by you through all of it, lewis. i was there when no one else was. and now you’re throwing it all away because someone ‘fit the brand’ better than i did?”
“that’s not what this is,” he said, his tone pleading. “i didn’t plan for this to happen. i didn’t want to hurt you.”
“but you did,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “you already did.”
he looked at you then, tears glistening in his eyes, and for a moment, you saw the man you fell in love with—the man who promised you the world, who told you that love was the only thing that mattered. but that man had made a choice, and it wasn’t you.
“i’m sorry,” he said, the words trembling as they left his lips.
you let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as tears streamed down your face. “sorry?” you echoed, your voice cracking. “sorry doesn’t fix this, lewis. sorry doesn’t erase the nights i stayed up worrying about you, the times i put you first, or the pieces of myself i gave up to love you.”
he flinched but didn’t say a word, his silence cutting deeper than anything else.
you took a shaky step back, your breath hitching. “i hope she gives you everything i couldn’t,” you said, your voice trembling with heartbreak. “but just know—you didn’t lose me, lewis. you gave me up.”
with that, you turned on your heel, walking toward the door with as much strength as you could muster. the tears blurred your vision as they fell, but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t stop. not for him. not anymore.
ʚ・george russell
the door creaked as you stepped into the flat, soaked from the rain, your coat dripping onto the floor. george stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, a mug of tea untouched in his hand. he turned as you entered, but the usual warmth in his expression was gone.
you closed the door behind you, hanging your coat on the rack with deliberate slowness, trying to steel yourself for what you knew was coming. “you texted me to come home early,” you said, your voice careful. “what’s going on?”
he set the mug down and ran a hand through his hair, the strands disheveled as though he’d been doing it all evening. “we need to talk,” he said, his voice soft, almost too soft.
you froze, your heart sinking. “george…”
he met your gaze, guilt etched deeply in his features. “i don’t know how to say this,” he began, his voice shaking slightly, “but i have to be honest with you.”
your chest tightened as you stepped closer. “honest about what?” you asked, though the dread pooling in your stomach already told you.
he exhaled shakily, his hands gripping the edge of the counter. “i’ve been trying to keep things together, to keep this… us. but i can’t lie anymore.” he looked at you, his blue eyes clouded with regret. “i don’t feel the same way i used to.”
the air left your lungs. “what?” you whispered. “what are you saying, george?”
he hesitated, but the words came anyway, cutting through you like a knife. “i’ve fallen for her,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “the girl i was set up to date for the press. it wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did.”
you stared at him, disbelief washing over you in waves. “you promised me,” you said, your voice trembling. “you promised it was all fake, that it was just for appearances.”
“i thought it would be,” he said, his tone desperate. “i thought i could keep it separate, that it wouldn’t mean anything. but somewhere along the way… it stopped feeling like an act.”
your head shook as tears welled in your eyes. “and what about me, george? what about us? do i mean nothing to you now?”
“you mean everything to me,” he said quickly, stepping forward, but you backed away, the distance between you growing. “you were there for me when no one else was, when i needed someone who believed in me. but…” his voice broke, and his shoulders sagged. “it’s not fair to you if my heart’s not in it anymore.”
“not fair to me?” you snapped, the anger bubbling to the surface. “what’s unfair is that i stood by you through everything—your career, the pressure, the public eye—only for you to fall for someone else because she ‘fits the narrative’ better.”
his silence was deafening, his expression pained but offering no defense.
“i gave you everything,” you said, your voice breaking. “and you’re throwing it away like it’s nothing. for what, george? for someone who plays the part better than i do?”
“it’s not like that,” he pleaded, but you raised a hand, stopping him.
“no,” you said firmly, tears now streaming down your face. “you don’t get to justify this. you don’t get to pretend this is about anything but your choices.”
he reached out, but you stepped back, shaking your head. “i hope she makes you happy,” you said bitterly, your voice steadying despite the pain. “because you just lost the one person who loved you for who you really are—not the perfect image the world expects you to be.”
the words hung in the air as you turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind you.
… weeks later
the flat was empty now, your things gone, and george sat alone in the quiet, staring at the spot where you used to sit on the couch with your legs tucked under you, reading or laughing at something he said.
his phone buzzed, a text from her lighting up the screen. he stared at it for a long moment, but he didn’t reply.
because the truth was, she might’ve been the perfect fit for his career, his brand—but she wasn’t you. and now, as the weight of his choices settled over him, he realized what he had lost wasn’t just love. it was you. and no pr stunt could ever fix that.
ʚ・franco colapinto
the sound of the rain tapping against the window was the only thing that filled the space between you and franco as he sat across from you, his hands clenched into fists on the table. you’d been waiting for this moment for weeks, months, really. deep down, you had known it would come sooner or later. you had known that the pressure, the expectations, the image—none of it could last. but even when you anticipated it, even when you braced yourself, hearing it from him felt like a punch to the gut.
“i never wanted to hurt you,” franco said, his voice low, his eyes avoiding yours as he spoke.
“then why are you doing this?” you asked, your voice steady, but your heart a mess of emotions. “why now?”
his gaze finally met yours, and there was guilt there, but there was also something else—a sadness that wasn’t enough to change what was happening. “i thought i could keep things separate. that it wouldn’t change anything between us.” he paused, letting out a shaky breath. “but it did.”
you swallowed hard, the words you had prepared for this moment now stuck in your throat. “you fell for her, didn’t you?” you said, the bitterness in your voice more evident than you wanted it to be.
franco’s silence was all the confirmation you needed.
a small, dry laugh escaped you as you wiped your eyes, the tears threatening to spill. “i knew it would happen,” you whispered, the ache in your chest growing with each passing second. “i knew you’d choose her. you always had to. it was never about us, was it? it was about the image, the brand, the plan.”
“no, it wasn’t like that,” franco said quickly, his voice desperate as he reached for your hand, but you pulled away. “i didn’t want this. i thought i could just go along with it, make it through for the sake of everything. but… it’s not just a plan anymore. i care about her.”
the words felt like they were suffocating you. “i tried to pretend i was fine with it,” you said bitterly. “i convinced myself i was okay with the idea of this being temporary, that it would all go back to normal. but hearing you say it out loud… hearing you admit it… it makes it real. and that hurts more than i thought it would.”
he opened his mouth to say something, but you held up a hand. “don’t,” you whispered. “don’t try to explain it. i don’t need the explanation.”
“i never meant for this to happen,” he said again, his voice faltering. “you have to believe me.”
“i do,” you said, your voice quiet, the tears now falling freely. “i do believe you. but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”
you stood up, your legs feeling weak beneath you, the reality of it all settling in. you had known this was coming, had prepared yourself for the moment he would look at you and admit the truth. but somehow, hearing it—hearing it from him—made it feel like a wound that had just been freshly opened, a wound that had been bleeding for far too long and was finally exposed.
“i thought i was enough for you,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him, your hands shaking as you wiped away your tears. “but i guess i was never going to be enough for what you really needed.”
franco stood up then, stepping toward you, but you shook your head, unable to meet his eyes. “don’t.” your voice cracked as you spoke. “you’ve already made your choice.”
for a long moment, neither of you moved. the weight of everything hung heavily in the room, suffocating the air around you both. finally, he took a step back, his shoulders slumping. “i’m sorry,” he said quietly. “i never wanted to hurt you.”
“i know,” you said softly, the words barely escaping your lips. “but sometimes… sometimes it’s the things we don’t want to happen the most that hurt the most when they finally do.”
and with that, you turned and walked out of the room, the door clicking shut behind you with a finality that echoed in your bones.
2021-2025 © jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate
#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto angst#max verstappen#formula 1#formula one x reader#formula one imagines#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen angst#formula 1 x reader#lewis hamilton x you#lewis hamilton x reader#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton#george russell fanfic#george russell#george russell x reader#george russell x you#george russel x fem!reader#𐐪♡︎₊˚ ― jungwnies#jungwnies
717 notes
·
View notes
Note
Ahh your bee hybrids are making me think of the dynamics of the bulls and cows ♡♡ So doting and loving~ Soft and fuzzy!
I keep thinking about a nearby wasp or hornet colony getting a little jealous hearing about such a pretty queen - they're so big and scary..
Just rambly thoughts hehe, enjoy your day/night~
Let’s just say that you had a good relationship with the wasp hybrids before becoming the queen of the bee hybrids. You may have even had a fling with one or two, and they told the others.
For a while they watched on in jealousy, wanting you for themselves, until some got brave.
A few wasps get in and mate with the queen, filling you with their own eggs. It’s different than mating with the bees, they fuck and stuff you, leaving you with bite marks and hickeys… it feels so good…
The bee hybrids are devastated when they find out and aren’t sure what to do… while they hate the idea of sharing you, they’d also prefer to not go to war with the wasp hybrids. Hive vs Hive won’t end well, and your safety is their top priority.
So they find the wasps responsible and execute them… but you don’t really like that. Now the bees have made their beloved queen sad, and their next suggestion only angers you further.
They want to just kill the eggs, but that upsets you! They’re your eggs, and you get to decide if you carry them or not! The bees are at a loss. While killing them isn’t allowed by you, they can’t stay in the bee hive, that’s dangerous. Wasps are aggressive and they’re afraid they’ll hurt your bee hybrid babies.
The wasps send an ambassador, who says the other hive will go to war with them for the queen… but they offer a compromise.
Since both hives love you and neither of them wants to suffer through a war, they suggest sharing you.
So they hesitantly accept the offer to share their queen, the only stipulation being that they have more access to her and their eggs are the priority. The wasps don’t really plan on obeying that rule, but they agree because god they want you so bad.
Now imagine being surrounded by the aggressive and rough wasp hybrids that are deliciously rough on your fat cunt while you’re also being worshipped and adored by the bee hybrids who mate with you however you please…
You’d spend your days going from one hive to another, being given more and more love and affection as both hives try to stay in your favor and possibly convince you to stay with them forever.
They’re both very possessive species, and aggressive when it comes to their hive and queen. Who knows how long this treaty will last.
This scenario could be explored more if anyone’s interested.
I think the bees would usually not do this, but with the added lore that the queen was once friendly with the wasps and they are more desperate to have her means the bees would rather share than potentially lose to war. In their minds they can’t comprehend that the wasps would never hurt you, they think that they will take out the entire hive along with you.
#wasp hybrid#wasp hybrid smut#wasp hybrid x reader#bee hybrid smut#bee hybrid x reader#bee hybrid#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#monster fic#chubby!reader#chubby reader#x reader#fem reader#female reader#ask answered#monster smut#monster fucking#mon#terato#teraphilia#exophelia#terat0philliac#monster imagine#monster boy oc#teratophillia#fat reader#cw breeding#cw oviposition
2K notes
·
View notes