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wethotcrazy · 1 month ago

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Parallel Lines

pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x Olympic Figure Skater! Reader

word count: 6638

i've had this marinating in my brain for a bit. i just think that racing and skating have such interesting juxtaposition so here it is.

Sagamihara always had a sleepy kind of charm, but Yuki and YN felt something else in the quiet mornings and late nights, the stillness only broken by the hum of dreams in motion. Growing up here meant routines and rituals, like early morning alarms and empty streets, the cold air pinching at their cheeks as they walked out to different but parallel paths.

They’d seen each other countless times over the years: two kids with big dreams crossing paths by chance, brushing against each other’s lives without ever truly touching. YN was always the girl with the figure skates slung over her shoulder, eyes bright and posture poised even at dawn. Yuki, in contrast, was the scrappy boy with an endless supply of karting posters and racing memorabilia, always dashing toward the next practice with the fierce focus of a kid who already knew his path.

When they passed each other, there was always a nod, a polite “Good morning” or “Good night,” exchanged in those shared spaces—two people who understood the solitude of dreams.

The first time Yuki saw her was on his way home after a long day at the track, dirt and oil streaked across his cheek. YN was on her way to the rink, her skates glittering in her hands, her hair pulled back in a tidy ponytail. She looked ready to take on the world, and he couldn’t help but admire that, even as he ducked his head slightly, embarrassed by his own disheveled state. She’d simply smiled, nodding in that small, knowing way, and gone on her way.

Yuki didn’t know it at the time, but that look—the look of someone fully consumed by a dream—was something he’d come to recognize again and again over the years.

As they grew older, they kept moving in the same direction: toward ambition, toward something beyond Sagamihara. But they’d drifted apart in other ways. Yuki’s weekends became filled with karting, and then, one day, with plans for Europe—his sights set on Formula 1. YN’s weekends were consumed by rink hours, the constant, punishing quest to perfect each routine, each jump, each spin. They still crossed paths, sometimes outside the ice rink or the train station, exchanging those same fleeting nods.

It was strange—Sagamihara wasn’t large, yet somehow, they’d managed to orbit each other like planets, moving along parallel paths that never seemed to converge.

One summer evening, just after dusk, they crossed paths again, older now, YN carrying a gym bag and wearing a jacket from the national team, Yuki carrying a helmet, his clothes scuffed from a day of karting. They stood there, paused on the quiet street, and he couldn’t help but break the usual silence.

“You’re still skating, then?”

She nodded, her eyes warm with a familiar determination. “And you’re still racing.”

“Planning to stop anytime soon?” he teased.

Her smile was small, but it held a kind of fierceness. “Not until I make it.”

“Same here.”

The weight of their dreams hung in the air between them, the invisible wall that had always been there but that they’d learned to accept. There wasn’t any need for explanation, just that shared understanding. They were alike, but separate, and they knew the sacrifices and loneliness that came with chasing something so big.

Years passed like that, each of them watching the other only in passing—Yuki catching glimpses of her in news clips, her routines sharpened with an artistry that almost seemed untouchable, while she’d see photos of him in magazines and on TV, headlines proclaiming his meteoric rise through the ranks of motorsport. Every success felt like a nod to each other, a reminder of the dreams that had been born back in Sagamihara.

One winter, when Yuki was back in Japan for the off-season, he found himself walking through their old neighborhood, a rare moment of quiet for him. Snow had settled on the streets, muffling the sounds of the city and creating that same early-morning hush that he remembered from childhood.

At the ice rink, he spotted her just coming off practice. She noticed him, her eyes widening a bit in surprise, then softening in recognition.

“Yuki,” she said, her voice warm in a way that held their shared history, even if they’d never shared much more than a nod. “You’re here.”

“Just for a bit. Off-season,” he replied, feeling that same familiar ease, as though they’d just picked up an old, comfortable habit.

They didn’t need to say much; that was the thing about two people who’d been chasing dreams their whole lives—they’d run out of words long ago. Instead, they sat side by side on the cold metal bench outside the rink, their breaths visible in the chilly air. For a moment, it felt as if they were kids again, those same two quiet strangers in the early hours of Sagamihara, bound by something unspoken but unmistakable.

“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Yuki murmured finally, glancing over at her. “How we’ve always been here, but never really…here.”

YN nodded, looking out at the snowy street, her skates resting by her side. “Maybe we’ll always be a little like that. Parallel. Just…passing each other.”

He let out a quiet laugh. “Maybe. But I think I’m okay with that.”

And in that moment, they both knew it was true. They’d never really needed each other to understand. Their connection was there, solid but silent, like the hum of the early morning streets of Sagamihara that had once seen them both grow and rise, side by side.

As Yuki settled into his off-season routine, blissfully unaware, an unexpected storm was brewing on the internet. It began when a fan account posted an old, grainy yearbook photo that seemed to have no apparent significance—just two kids from Sagamihara, tucked into a corner of the page. Yuki Tsunoda, grinning with that familiar spark in his eyes even at a young age, and right beside him, YN, with a shy, focused look that hinted at the grace she’d later bring to the rink.

The photo alone might have gone unnoticed. But within hours, more yearbook photos appeared, retweeted and reshared by fans who’d pieced together the fact that these two seemingly unrelated athletes had shared more than just a hometown.

One especially dedicated fan managed to dig up an old article from a Sagamihara newspaper, “The Rising Stars of Sagamihara,” a feature highlighting young, local talents. In it was a tiny column dedicated to a 10-year-old Yuki Tsunoda, “the lightning-fast karting prodigy,” and a paragraph further down, highlighting YN, “the local ice princess.” The two write-ups were paired with side-by-side photos: Yuki in a helmet, hands on his karting wheel with that mischievous grin, and YN in her skating attire, her posture proud and determined even at such a young age.

Fans started to piece it together: the fact that they’d grown up in the same neighborhood, gone to the same schools, and even shared the same early mornings and late nights, each in their own world yet strangely intertwined. And it wasn’t long before the discovery of an old, archived video from a local TV broadcast surfaced online—a brief segment from years ago that fans began to pass around excitedly.

In the clip, the young, wide-eyed Yuki stood outside his local karting track, excitedly describing his dream of one day becoming a Formula 1 driver. The interviewer had asked him, “What’s the best part of racing?” Yuki had grinned, eyes lighting up in a way that was still familiar to his fans today. “Going fast,” he’d said simply. “And getting better each time. I want to be the fastest in the world.”

The video then cut to the local ice rink, where a young YN was carefully lacing up her skates, so focused on the task that she barely noticed the camera. When the interviewer asked her what drove her to skate, she’d answered with quiet conviction, “I just love it. I want to make it to the Olympics someday. It’s…where I need to be.”

The segment was barely two minutes long, but it captured two kids with dreams that stretched far beyond Sagamihara, two kids who, even back then, had an uncanny sense of direction and drive. Fans, both of Yuki and of the Olympic skating world, couldn’t help but feel like they’d uncovered a rare glimpse into a shared story—two kids from the same neighborhood, their paths woven together by dreams, even if only in the way they passed each other.

Social media blew up with fan theories, speculating on how often their lives must have intersected, how many times they might have passed each other on their way to training. Photos surfaced, sent in by locals who had watched them both grow up in Sagamihara—some just vague, fleeting memories: “I remember seeing them both at the train station on winter mornings!�� or “I used to watch Yuki at the track and YN at the rink. They were both so intense, so dedicated, even as kids.”

Yuki had been mostly offline during his break, enjoying a rare stretch of quiet, until one of his friends finally texted him about it. Amused, he clicked through the screenshots and articles, surprised by how far fans had gone to piece together these memories. He hadn’t even remembered half of them himself. One of the photos, an old class trip snapshot, brought a small smile to his face—YN and him standing near each other, neither of them smiling for the camera, both distracted, probably thinking about their next practice.

Meanwhile, YN caught wind of it from one of her friends, who sent her a link with a message: “Look! You’re practically trending!”

She’d laughed at first, scrolling through tweets and posts, memories flashing back like scenes from an old movie: her hurried mornings at the train station, those late-night practice sessions when she’d sometimes catch a glimpse of Yuki heading home from the karting track, their nods and polite hellos. She couldn’t help but feel a little nostalgic—she hadn’t realized how much those quiet moments had mattered to her, how they’d become part of the story of her dream.

One night, not long after, Yuki texted her.

“Have you seen the whole internet making us childhood rivals or something? Lol”

She smirked, fingers tapping quickly to reply.

“Or ‘childhood sweethearts,’ depending on who you ask.”

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed with his reply:

“They’re not totally wrong. Not the rivals part, anyway.”

She chuckled at that, surprised by the warmth the message brought. There was a comfort in knowing that he remembered those early days too, that those moments of passing each other had meant something, even if it had been unspoken.

“Maybe they’ll call us ‘parallel dreamers’ next,” she replied.

And as she lay back on her couch, scrolling through the old photos and shared memories, she realized something: maybe their paths had been parallel, and maybe they’d drifted apart in pursuit of those dreams, but Sagamihara had left its mark on both of them. It was their shared starting line, the place where they’d both learned to dream and to fight, even if their paths had rarely converged.

A few days later, Yuki was in Tokyo for a media event, and on an impulse, he texted her again.

“Coffee? For old times’ sake?”

When they met at a small, tucked-away café in the city, there was an ease between them, as if the years and distance hadn’t changed a thing. They laughed over the fan theories, traded stories about the yearbook photos and old video clips, and shared some of the strange, wonderful feeling of seeing their quiet little corner of Sagamihara suddenly brought to light.

“I always thought you were so intense back then,” Yuki teased, raising an eyebrow. “Every time I saw you, you looked like you were going into battle.”

“Look who’s talking, Mr. Formula 1,” she shot back, rolling her eyes. “I’d see you at the track, looking like you were in some kind of racing trance. You know, you used to scare me a little.”

He laughed, a sound that was so warm and familiar. “Guess we were both a little intense. Guess we still are.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the bustling street outside, each of them thinking back to those early mornings and late nights in Sagamihara, to the unspoken connection that had somehow brought them back together, even in the vastness of their separate worlds.

“Do you ever miss it?” she asked quietly, her gaze softening. “Sagamihara, I mean. Those early days?”

He nodded, his expression wistful. “Sometimes. I think I miss the simplicity of it. The way it felt to just…dream.”

She looked at him, and in that moment, she felt the weight of all those years, of all the mornings and nights they’d shared in passing, two strangers who had never truly been strangers at all.

“Me too,” she said softly. And for the first time, it felt like they weren’t just passing by—they were here, in this moment, together.

The whole thing still felt surreal to YN. Figure skating had always been a quiet pursuit, one that seemed to exist in the background of mainstream attention—until the Winter Olympics came around, when suddenly, the whole world seemed to tune in. But this recent surge of attention felt different. It wasn’t just about her skating career anymore; it was as if her whole childhood was being reexamined through this strange, nostalgic lens. Fans couldn’t seem to get enough of the idea that she and Yuki had spent their earliest years unknowingly sharing the same road.

And, somehow, the more the fans uncovered, the more it actually brought her and Yuki together.

They began to message each other regularly, trading stories from their childhood that they hadn’t even realized they shared. YN would find herself laughing as she read Yuki’s late-night messages, recounting moments she’d almost forgotten—like the time they’d both been late for school on the same day because they’d each missed the early train, or the little neighborhood shop where they’d each spent their allowances on sports magazines and energy drinks, practically standing side-by-side without knowing it.

One evening, YN received a message from Yuki that included an old photo she had completely forgotten about. It was a group photo from a school field day, and there they were, standing a few feet apart in their gym uniforms, each of them looking off in different directions, probably already thinking about the next practice, the next goal. The caption he’d written was simple:

“Look at us, already daydreaming.”

She found herself smiling, typing back:

“I think we were both always somewhere else.”

To her surprise, Yuki replied almost immediately.

“Maybe we were just waiting to catch up.”

Something about that made her pause, her heart giving a small, unexpected flutter. She hadn’t expected this sudden closeness—hadn’t expected to find herself confiding in him so naturally, like they were picking up a conversation they’d started years ago but never quite finished.

The fans, meanwhile, were relentless. More photos and old stories kept surfacing, and every new discovery seemed to send the internet into a frenzy. Some old classmates even came forward with their own memories, adding to the charm of it all. One of the most popular was a story from a girl who remembered how Yuki and YN would always be the first ones out the school gates after the last bell, each headed in different directions, both of them racing the clock to get to their practices on time. “They looked like they were in some kind of secret competition,” the girl had written with a laugh. “They never even knew they were competing.”

The two of them found it all endlessly amusing, and they often texted each other late into the night, reminiscing and teasing each other about the memories fans kept unearthing.

Then one night, YN found herself scrolling through her messages with Yuki, reading back through the familiar exchanges that had slowly become part of her days. She felt a pang of nostalgia, and on a whim, she texted him:

“Hey, do you remember that old café near the train station? The one with the melon soda floats?”

He texted back almost instantly.

“The one where I spilled a whole soda on myself? Yeah, I remember. Want to meet up there?”

The next afternoon, they found themselves back in that cozy, faded café, sitting across from each other with melon soda floats, just like they had years ago. She watched as Yuki took a sip, and they both burst into laughter as he wrinkled his nose, clearly not used to the sweetness anymore.

“Wow, it tastes exactly the same,” he said, putting the glass down with a mock grimace. “How did we drink these all the time?”

YN laughed. “Guess we didn’t know any better.”

They sat there, talking easily about their childhood routines, each one of them filling in gaps in the other’s memories. Yuki told her about the hours he’d spent working on his kart at the local track, about the old man who used to stop by and offer him tips, and she found herself captivated, imagining the younger Yuki she’d only ever seen in glimpses.

She told him about the hours at the rink, practicing spins until her legs shook, the evenings when she’d watch the last of the sunlight filter through the windows and think about what it would feel like to one day skate for an audience that stretched far beyond Sagamihara.

As she talked, Yuki looked at her with a softness she hadn’t quite seen before. “I remember,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with a hint of awe. “I remember seeing you after practice, with your skates hanging over your shoulder. You always looked…so focused, like you were in a world of your own.”

She smiled, feeling a warmth blossom in her chest. “I always thought you looked like you were ready to take on the world.”

They sat there, a comfortable silence settling between them, and for a moment, it felt as if they were back in Sagamihara, just two kids chasing their dreams, both of them trying to make sense of a feeling they hadn’t quite had words for back then.

But this time, it was different. This time, they were here, and the world wasn’t pulling them in opposite directions.

That night, after they’d said their goodbyes and gone their separate ways, YN found herself thinking about Yuki long after she got home. She scrolled through her messages, re-reading the conversations they’d shared over the past few weeks, the memories they’d uncovered together, the fragments of their shared past that had slowly pulled them closer.

And as she lay in bed, her phone buzzed with one last message from him.

“Thanks for today. It was…good to be back. With you.”

She smiled, her heart warm with a quiet happiness she hadn’t quite felt before. She typed a quick reply:

“Good to be back, too. And hey—don’t forget, I beat you to practice every time back then.”

The next morning, as she headed to practice, she found herself smiling as she passed by familiar streets and old buildings. For the first time in a long time, she felt a kind of peace settle over her, a sense that maybe, just maybe, she’d finally found a piece of home in the most unexpected of places.

And perhaps, she thought with a quiet hope, this time their paths wouldn’t just cross—they might actually find themselves walking side by side, together.

At first, it was subtle, almost like a game of hide-and-seek played by two people who didn’t really want to hide. YN’s posts were usually quiet, focused on her routines, her performances, the ice rink early in the morning or late at night when it was empty and calm. But lately, fans had noticed a difference. There were little hints—a second coffee cup on the table, a shadow beside her in the mirror at the rink, a half-smile that seemed directed at someone just out of view.

And then, there was Yuki. His own fans, well-attuned to his habits, noticed he was a little more active online than usual, sharing bits and pieces of his days that were uncharacteristically… soft. He’d always had a down-to-earth presence, but now there was something more thoughtful to it—a kind of quiet happiness that seemed to radiate from even the simplest posts. A casual photo of him at a cafe would have a book next to his coffee, open to some obscure passage about ambition and the journey to reach it. In another post, he was on a quiet Tokyo street at dusk, the caption a single kanji: “帰” (home).

Most fans brushed it off as coincidence—until the first fan sighting happened. It was a quiet Tuesday, and Yuki and YN had snuck away to a tiny ramen shop tucked into one of the side streets of Tokyo, hoping to escape the city’s usual rush. They were deep in conversation, heads bent close together, laughing at some shared joke as they slurped noodles. Neither noticed the two fans a few tables over, both of whom sat in stunned silence, glancing at each other with wide eyes.

Photos surfaced on social media within hours. The fandom went into an instant, thrilled frenzy as fans dissected every detail—the relaxed way they seemed to sit together, the way Yuki had looked at her while she laughed, the unmistakable ease and familiarity that only came with years of shared history. And as more fans pieced together the clues that had been scattered across their social media, the internet’s interest in “the childhood rivals” reignited in a big way.

Some fans were quick to pull out old screenshots, examining the places YN had been posting about recently, pointing out landmarks that seemed to match up with places Yuki had been seen as well. Others dissected old interviews and clips, spotting the subtle changes in their expressions whenever their respective childhoods in Sagamihara were brought up. It was as if, now that fans knew what to look for, the hints were everywhere, woven quietly through both of their lives.

One day, YN’s manager pulled her aside, gently asking if she’d seen the fan reaction. She had, of course, though she’d tried not to look too closely, letting herself stay in the bubble of their quiet, everyday moments. But curiosity got the better of her, and that night, she found herself scrolling through post after post, watching fans piece together their shared past like some kind of romantic detective story.

There was one thread in particular that made her pause, an almost absurdly thorough breakdown of all the times YN and Yuki had likely crossed paths as kids. It included everything from their school schedules to their practice times, even a speculative timeline of when they might have seen each other at the train station.

One of the fans had written, “I think what I love most about this whole thing is that they were just… there, for each other, all those years. Even if they didn’t realize it. It’s like they were connected without ever needing to say anything.”

As she read, she found herself smiling, remembering those long, quiet mornings, those nods exchanged across empty streets. And when her phone buzzed with a new message from Yuki, she almost laughed at the timing.

“Guess they’re onto us, huh?”

She typed back, fingers moving almost without thinking.

“I think they like it. Us. All those years we kept passing each other.”

A few seconds later, his reply appeared.

“It’s kind of nice, actually. I didn’t know it’d mean this much to people.”

“To me, either,” she replied, pausing, feeling the weight of those words. “But I think they see it now—how we’ve been part of each other’s lives, all this time. Even if it was just little things.”

And that was the heart of it, wasn’t it? She’d grown up knowing his silhouette from across the street, his familiar nod, the way he’d look at her with a small, tired smile after a long day, as if they were acknowledging the quiet cost of their dreams. Those small gestures had added up, building something she hadn’t fully realized until now.

A few weeks later, when the off-season was almost over, Yuki suggested they meet at the old track in Sagamihara. She was surprised—after all, they’d both moved on, their worlds much larger than they’d been as kids, but something about the idea felt perfect.

When she arrived, Yuki was already there, leaning against a guardrail with a nostalgic grin on his face. The track was empty, just as it had been in their childhood, and he waved her over, his smile widening as she approached.

“Welcome back,” he said, his voice soft, filled with a quiet happiness she’d grown to recognize.

They walked around the track, sharing stories from their childhood that felt both old and new. Yuki told her about his first time racing there, how he’d stayed up all night the day before, too excited to sleep. She laughed, admitting she’d once done the same thing before her first competition, spending the entire night pacing around her room, practicing jumps she’d already perfected a hundred times.

They ended up sitting side by side in the stands, looking out at the track, lost in memories. After a while, YN spoke up, her voice barely a whisper.

“Do you ever wonder what it would’ve been like if we’d actually been friends back then?”

Yuki tilted his head, considering her question. “Maybe we were, in a way. I mean, we were there for each other, right? Even if we didn’t talk much.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “I think we were, too.”

He looked over at her, a gentle warmth in his eyes. “Well, we’ve got all the time in the world to catch up now.”

The simplicity of his words settled over her, filling a space she hadn’t realized was empty. She smiled, reaching out to lightly nudge his shoulder. “Guess we do.”

The fans, of course, noticed the Sagamihara track photo she posted later that night—a wide shot of the track at dusk, golden sunlight pooling over the asphalt. No sign of Yuki in the frame, no hints in her caption, just a simple line: “Sometimes, going back means moving forward.”

But to her, it felt like a quiet declaration—a way of honoring the years they’d spent running toward their dreams, passing each other like strangers on a shared road. And even if the whole world knew about them now, it didn’t change the fact that this was, at its heart, theirs alone: two kids from Sagamihara, two dreams that had always run parallel, finally side by side.

The end of the break came faster than either of them expected, and with it, a quiet sense of loss that lingered as Yuki prepared to leave for Europe. For years, leaving home had been easy, almost routine. But this time, Sagamihara felt different. It was as if his small hometown was charged with a new kind of energy—one that came from having someone there who felt like home in a way he hadn’t fully expected.

But, even though they couldn’t be in the same place, Yuki and YN settled into a rhythm of staying close despite the distance. Texts flew back and forth, little jokes and stories from their days. The hours spent on FaceTime became a kind of ritual, each call bringing with it a familiar warmth and comfort that reminded them both of those shared streets and the quiet dreams of Sagamihara.

One evening, on a call, Yuki mentioned an idea that had been buzzing in his mind for a while.

“You should come to a race,” he said, his voice casual but his eyes bright. “I mean, if you’re interested. It’s not exactly like a skating competition, but… it’s something you’ve got to experience live.”

Her face lit up on the screen. “Are you serious? I mean, I’ve watched some races since we started talking, but I’ve never seen it in person.”

He grinned. “Oh, it’s totally different live. The sound, the atmosphere… it’s like nothing else.” He paused, then added, “Besides, it’d mean we get to see each other again.”

It didn’t take long for her to say yes.

The day of the Grand Prix arrived, and as YN stepped into the bustling paddock, she was hit by a mix of excitement and nerves. She’d seen glimpses of this world through Yuki’s stories and posts, but nothing could have prepared her for the sheer intensity of it—the colors, the noise, the energy crackling through every inch of the place. There was a sense of purpose everywhere, a buzzing energy that felt so different from the serene calm of an ice rink but somehow familiar, too. It was the feeling of athletes chasing something, pouring themselves into every detail, every second, every breath.

And then, there he was. Yuki spotted her from across the paddock, weaving through the crowd with a wide grin, looking more animated than she’d ever seen him. They met with an easy hug, as if no time had passed since they’d last seen each other. She couldn’t help but laugh, taking in his racing suit, his excitement radiating off him in waves.

“It’s even crazier in person,” she said, glancing around, trying to absorb everything at once. “I didn’t know it would be like this.”

He laughed, looking both proud and a little sheepish. “Yeah, it’s… it’s a lot. But you’ll get used to it. I wanted you to see it, though. This is… well, it’s my version of the rink, I guess.”

They walked through the paddock, with Yuki explaining everything from the intense setup behind each car to the team’s relentless preparation. She could see the pride in his eyes, the way he moved around his car with a sense of ownership, a reflection of the countless hours he’d spent on tracks, working toward this dream. And she could feel it—this was where he belonged, where every step and sacrifice from their childhood had led him.

He introduced her to a few members of his team, laughing as they teased him about finally bringing a friend to a race. She watched as he interacted with his team, realizing for the first time just how much responsibility he carried. The boy she remembered from Sagamihara had grown into someone steady and sharp, someone whose determination had molded him into a presence that filled the space around him.

When the race started, she was in awe. The sheer speed, the roar of the engines, the crowd’s cheers—all of it combined into a visceral thrill that went beyond anything she’d ever experienced. She found herself gripping the railing, watching Yuki’s car flash past, feeling every twist and turn like it was happening to her. She hadn’t expected to be so captivated, but here she was, heart pounding as if she were skating a program of her own.

After the race, when things quieted down, Yuki found her in the paddock again. He was exhausted, his face flushed, but his eyes sparkled with the high of it all. She threw her arms around him, feeling a surge of pride she hadn’t expected.

“That was incredible,” she said, still breathless from the excitement. “I didn’t know racing could feel like that.”

He grinned, a little bashful. “It’s different when you’re here, right?”

They spent the rest of the evening wandering through the emptying paddock, the buzz of the race still lingering in the air around them. As they walked, she told him about her own competitions—the nervous energy that would settle over her before she stepped onto the ice, the strange kind of stillness that would take over the rink just before she launched into her first jump.

And for a moment, they were just two kids from Sagamihara again, two dreamers who’d spent their lives working tirelessly toward something that felt bigger than themselves.

She looked over at him, her heart warming at the honesty in his expression. “I get that. I always felt the same way about skating. But I think… I think it makes a difference, knowing someone else understands it.”

They found a quiet spot near the track, sitting on a low wall overlooking the grandstands. The stadium lights cast long shadows over the empty space, and for a while, they just sat there, letting the silence fill the spaces between them. It was a kind of peace they hadn’t realized they’d been looking for.

“You know,” YN said, her voice soft, “when I was younger, I always wondered what it’d be like to actually talk to you. To know you, beyond just passing each other on the way to practice.”

Yuki looked over at her, his gaze steady. “Guess we’re finally getting that chance now.”

They sat in silence again, a comfortable warmth settling between them. And in that moment, with the empty track stretching out before them, they both felt it—the quiet realization that they’d found something here, something that had always been there, waiting for them to finally catch up.

As they sat there, Yuki reached out, a small, tentative movement that spoke volumes. She took his hand without hesitation, their fingers lacing together easily, naturally. It was a small gesture, one that felt both familiar and thrillingly new, like finding home in a place they’d both thought they’d left behind.

And in that quiet, empty paddock, with the echoes of the race still hanging in the air, they found a kind of peace they hadn’t known they were looking for—a sense that, no matter where their paths led, they’d always be able to find each other, side by side.

By now, Yuki and YN were inseparable, no matter how many miles lay between them. It was a connection that felt both effortless and profound, the sort of bond that didn’t need big declarations or elaborate plans to make sense. They’d found something in each other that went beyond their childhood familiarity and beyond the worlds of figure skating and racing—something that was uniquely theirs, a relationship that had grown quietly and steadily, almost as if it had been waiting for them all along.

Anyone who spent time with them could see it. Fans had a field day piecing together every time YN was spotted near a racetrack or every time Yuki happened to be in the audience at one of her competitions. There were moments when fans speculated wildly, building romantic theories out of mere glimpses, but Yuki and YN never fed into it. For them, what they had was too precious to make a spectacle of; this was theirs alone, and they were happy to keep it that way.

Friends and family saw it too, though their reaction was less of a surprise and more of a quiet understanding. For years, everyone who knew them had seen that glimmer of connection, the kind that didn’t fade with distance or time. Their friends laughed about it sometimes, joking that Sagamihara must have woven their destinies together before they even knew it themselves.

Even other drivers, those who saw Yuki at his best and his most vulnerable, couldn’t miss the subtle shift in him. There was a calmness to him now, a steadiness that came from having someone who understood the cost of his world, someone who’d been chasing dreams just as big. In the garage, Yuki would occasionally have a little grin on his face as he read a text, or he’d walk into the paddock with a quiet happiness that his team members hadn’t seen before.

“You’re different these days, you know?” one of the drivers remarked one afternoon, a teasing smile on his face as they sat together after a race. “You’ve got that… settled look. Like someone who finally knows where he’s going.”

Yuki didn’t deny it. Instead, he just shrugged with a slight smile. “Guess I do.”

And then, there were moments when they found themselves together in the same place, and it felt like the whole world disappeared. No matter how loud the roar of the crowd or how many people surrounded them, they had this ability to turn everything else into background noise.

One weekend, after one of Yuki’s races, they found themselves in a quiet corner of the paddock, hidden away from the bustling crowds. They had little moments like these, stolen pockets of time when the rest of the world felt a million miles away. YN leaned against the wall, watching Yuki as he recounted moments from the race, his eyes bright with excitement. She knew she’d never tire of seeing him like this, his passion shining through every word.

“It’s funny,” she said, smiling as he paused to catch his breath. “When we were kids, I’d see you after a long practice, and you’d look just as exhausted but never as happy.”

“Back then, we were both just pushing, you know?” he replied, a nostalgic glint in his eyes. “We were both fighting so hard to get somewhere, to make something of ourselves. I think we both forgot it could be this… good.”

She nodded, understanding completely. There was something different now—a balance, a kind of peace that came from knowing they’d reached the places they’d fought for, and that they had someone to share it with.

He reached out, his fingers finding hers, lacing together in a way that had come to feel so natural. “Do you ever think about how many times we must have passed each other? Back in Sagamihara, at the train station, or even just walking down the street?”

“Yeah,” she replied softly, a smile playing at her lips. “It’s like we were both so focused on our own paths that we didn’t even realize we were following the same one.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, simply enjoying the moment, their hands still intertwined. There was a quiet magic to these moments that no audience could ever see, a depth of understanding that went beyond words. In each other, they’d found a quiet kind of solace, a shared understanding that had blossomed into something more, something as vast and unshakable as the dreams they’d chased all their lives.

When she finally had to return to Tokyo, they shared a hug that lingered a little longer than usual, the unspoken promises between them clear. “I’ll see you soon,” he said, his voice soft but sure.

“Soon,” she echoed, knowing that, wherever they were in the world, they’d always have this unbreakable thread tying them back to each other.

As she walked away, he stood there for a moment, watching her go, a feeling of certainty settling over him. What they had was beyond the limitations of time zones and stadiums. It was something far bigger than Sagamihara, beyond racing circuits and skating rinks. It was something timeless, something that was just theirs, waiting patiently for them all these years.

And as Yuki turned to head back to the track, a quiet smile on his face, he knew that whatever twists and turns lay ahead, he’d always have this piece of home with him—something that had started long ago, on quiet mornings and late nights in Sagamihara, and had grown into something far more beautiful than he’d ever expected.

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lorarri · 8 months ago

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★ . . . 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏 𝐁𝐅 , 𝐘𝐓𝟐𝟐

summary , it's yuki's birthday and his girlfriend just had to make every single person in the world feel even more single than normal

pairing , yuki tsunoda x fem! gf! bookworm! reader

main masterlist | f1 masterlist | yuki tsunoda masterlist

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yourinstagram Dear yukitsunoda0511, happy birthday I can't believe that you have been mine for three years now. It feels like yesterday that we met at that bookstore in Paris, where you spilt your coffee all over my favourite hoodie. And now with confidence I can say with confidence that it was worth it, you make me feel peaceful and whole. I hope you get everything your heart desires today. And that includes me. Your girl, Y/N L/N.

親愛なるユキ、お誕生日おめでとう。あなたがもう 3 年も私のものだなんて信じられません。パリの本屋で会ったとき、あなたが私のお気に入りのパーカーにコーヒーをこぼしてしまったことが昨日のことのように感じられます。そして今、私は自信を持って、その価値があったと自信を持って言えます。あなたは私を平和で健全な気分にさせてくれます。今日、あなたが心から望むすべてを手に入れられることを願っています。そしてそれには私も含まれます。あなたの彼女、Y/N L/N。

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user yuki is the only driver who’s enjoying life to the fullest with his hot gf - eating all the good food traveling around the world love that for him

yukitsunoda0511 I'm sorry about hoodie I'll buy you a new one ⤷ yourinstagram a new hoodie? no. I want one of your's please 😊 ⤷ yukitsunoda0511 okay baby now come cuddle with me ⤷ yourinstagram on my way 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

user pov the second pic is your dream ⤷ user Y/N FR LIVING MY DREAM

user happy birthday short king

user they are both barbie neither of them are ken 😭😭😭

user "liked by pierre gasly" ⤷ yourinstagram lurking as always 🙄 ⤷ pierregasly got a problem? ⤷ yourinstagram yeah with your face ⤷ pierregasly wow what a creative insult what are you 5 ⤷ yourinstagram listen here fuck french fuck I would smoke you in a fight now shut the fuck up and eat a baggette ⤷ pierregasly your mean...go play monopoly ⤷ yourinstagram esteban is my fav french ⤷ pierregasly you have gone to far ⤷ estebanocon thank you Y/N 😊

user So pretty yuki 🔥🔥🔥

user STOP THEY ARE SO CUTE

user brb I'm gonna go sleep with me on the highway ⤷ user gonna go take a bath with my toaster ⤷ user I feel like having a nice big tall glass of bleech ⤷ user suddenly I wanna skydive without a parachute ⤷ user I'm gonna jump off a moving train ⤷ yourinstagram mom pick me up I'm scared 😭😭😭

user So beautiful 💓🤩

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gguk-n · 10 days ago

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Soul's tapestry (Yuki Tsunoda x Reader)

Summary- In a world where soulmates exist. Some people get to experience memories of their soulmates which may lead them to each other. Yuki feels like every new food he tries, still seems familiar.

Y/N was an avid traveller. As soon as she was able to, she had set out to experience new countries, new cultures and their heritage. But there were a few country she visited, even though it was her first time, she felt like she had been there. Most people call it deja vu, but she knew. Her soulmate had been there too. That feel was warm and fuzzy to know she got to share this with her soulmate.

She had been able to sense her soulmate's memories from a young age. She couldn't really see them as clearly and her family told her it was because they would grow vivid as the time of her meeting would draw close. It excited her, one of the main catalyst for her little travelling. She hadn't realised than but her soulmate was a bit of globe trotter, she thought. She hoped that even he would be able to feel her presence in her memories, so she made sure to try every new cuisine there was to offer.

Yuki Tsunoda was a Formula One driver, which meant he barely got to live at home, having left in his early years. But there was one thing that kept him company, it was his soulmate's memories. He found comfort in food since a lot of those gave him a warm feeling. He would smile to himself when the food tasted familiar even though it was his first time. That was where his innate desire to cook for people began. He wanted to cook delicious food for the people he loved, especially his soulmate.

He noticed how some places, when he would revisit them during the next race year had a familiarity to it. He could feel his soulmate's memory of enjoying her time there. He had began to hope to run into her some day and be able to share in all these experiences.

From the start of 2024, all these memories had become vivid for the both of them. They could see their soulmate in different countries; they didn't know what they did but they got to see each country through their eyes.

It was the Japanese grand prix and Yuki hadn't been home in a really long time, especially during the cherry blossom season. On his flight to Japan, he saw a very vivid memory of his soulmate stood in a cherry blossom garden with the petals rustling and falling from the wind. He felt his breath hitch, there were butterflies in his stomach. Was it time? Was he really going to meet his soulmate in a few days?

Y/N had been wanting to see Japan during the cherry blossom season for years now. And now that she was here, she felt tears in her eyes as she watched the beautiful trees in bloom and the people walking around with their soulmate. She hoped to one day share this with him. She had a vivid memory of a race track. She wasn't sure that there was a race, she didn't keep up with sports but maybe her soulmate was here for that. She wondered if she should try to find it or him.

Like clockwork, fate was working it's magic. Y/N was at the cherry blossoms for the last day of bloom before they would wither away. She tried to take as many pictures as possible to remember this moment. And as she was clicking a picture, her camera landed on a man, in middle looking around and searching for something. She slowly put her camera down and looked him, frantically scanning the area until their eyes met. That familiar feeling was back. Like they'd know each other their whole life. Without even knowing, she started walking towards him. Right now, they both stood in front of each other with the petals falling. "I guess the myth is true" Yuki said holding the cherry blossom petal in his hand. There was saying, if you caught the cherry blossom petal than whatever you wished for would come true. "What did you wish for?" Y/N asked. "A lot of things. But the most important one just came true" Yuki said. "I guess we both wished for the same thing than" she smiled at him. "I'm Yuki Tsunoda" he smiled holding his hand. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N" she said shaking his.

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cheriladycl01 · 7 months ago

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Cupid and Me - Yuki Tsunoda x ColombianOlympicArchery! Reader

Plot: Yuki loves watching archery… and of course he supports the Japanese Team, however he can’t help being entranced by the Colombian Lady, and he thinks it’s time to become Cupid himself even though your aim is way better!

Yuki was always into sports, not just karting going into F1 but he loved Golf, Football, Swimming, he loved it all. So when AlphaTauri gave him the chance to go and watch the summer Olympics for a few days in the off season as a means for content he was so excited to be a part of it.

He started off his day watching a Basketball match. He sat watching happily to see who would win between Finland and China.

The atmosphere was always so incredible and the amount of different fans you would that had travelled half way across the world just to see these sports and people compete for their country was incredible.

The next place he was to go to, was Archery. He was extremely excited, knowing the people he’d be rooting for were good at these kinds of sports that required that extra level of intellect and precision.

While he held up his Japanese flag for the woman who currently held the highest score of the match, having a bullseye and a few 8’s and 9’s his gaze wondered over to you, who was just about to start.

You were tall, fierce and your sleek dark hair up in a claw clip keeping it in place out of your face.

Now Yuki didn’t believe in love at first sight but when he saw you pull back the now and line it up close to your nose to get the perfect shot, and he saw you immediately hit a 9 and celebrate in a loud and almost boisterous manner he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter.

It was stupid really, he was there in the stands waving a Japanese flag to support his own country and his people, but you stood there with the Colombian flag on the back of your team gear along with your name and number he couldn’t help it.

As the game went on, he found himself learning more about you, from the way you talked to the other contenders with a bright smile on your face, or nodding your head while your trainer chatted your ear of no doubt about strategy and where you were lacking, not that Yuki thought you were, you were storming your contestants.

“Can I get a picture with the winner, I think it’ll be good for content?” He asked once it was obvious you were going to be the winner.

“Yea, let’s pray the Japanese team pull through so you can hold the flag up together but that Colombian girl, Y/N is the Archer himself!” She exclaims seeing Y/N pull another bullseye.

You ended up winning gold, a Japanese girl called Ai and an American called April.

“Y/N there’s someone who wants to take a picture with you and meet you” you trainer says as you finish your celebrations holding up the other girls flags while they had pictures with their flowers before they held up yours.

“Oh yeah who is it!” You smile, wondering if it was a fan or another celebrity.

“It’s Yuki Tsunoda? He’s a Japanese F1 driver!” She answers and you nod, being sort of familiar with the popular driving sport.

“Sure, where is he! Send him my way!” You grinned excited to meet another athlete.

Yuki came in and you were shocked to see how short he was, around 5’2 whereas you were around 5’7. But he was cutely pocked sized - how on Earth was he an F1 driver.

You were in thought as he shyly came up to you. Be polite, great him in his own language.

“Kon'nichiwa” you test, with a polite bow. You’d learnt greetings in most languages, as an Olympian it was always in your mind that you should hold the upmost respect to your competitors.

“Oh, you speak Japanese?” He asks with an even shyer smile on his face.

“Jakkan” you grin indicating that you only knew a little bit of the language, with a wolffish type of smile that had Yuki’s face bursting with Red as he couldn’t take his gaze from you and how captivating you were.

“Okay, how about that photo?” The Alphatauri manager asks directing you to to stand next to each other.

“Hey, you want to wear my medal?” You’d asked him, another grin on your face as you stated to take it off from around you next.

“No no no. It’s yours!” He cries as if it’s the most outrageous thing ever, but you stop him and place it around his neck! In the photo you have your arm around his shoulder your opposite hand pointing to the medal with your mouth open in an excited way.

Yuki is all smiles and before you know it, the managers have left the pair of you alone and your both talking.

He’s asking you about how you got into archery and your talking about how he got into F1 and how it feels to drive a car as quickly as that, and when you both delve a little deeper you find the feels of releasing the arrow and launching as the lights go out isn’t too dissimilar.

“You want to join me for dinner?” You ask boldly, not that it was a scary situation for you, you were normally quiet upfront when it came to things like this so it didn’t feel too odd.

“Yes, I think I’d really enjoy that!” He smiled.

And that was the start of a beautiful new relationship formed through observation, love at first sight and a little help in hand from Cupid.

y/user

Liked by yukitsunoda0511 and alphatauri

y/user: Met a guy, became Cupid 💘 made him fall in love with me 😉

Tagged 1 Person

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yukitsunoda0511: I tried to be Cupid first - but her aim is too good!

-> y/user: I’m just too appealing! Love you Yuki 🥰

fan1: omggggg the height difference between them is just so cute!

pierregasly: Yuki my friend, you fell hard! But you picked a good one!

alphatauri: New WAG Alert! We love you Y/N!

fan2: oh she’s the one … I know it - that is the look of love!

Instagram Story Caption:

Back at it again 🇨🇴 ¡Buenos Días Mis Amigas!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #yuki tsunoda fluff #yuki tsunoda x you #yuki tsunoda x y/n #yuki tsunoda x reader #yuki tsunoda imagine #yuki tsunoda #yt22fanfic #yt22 x reader #yt22 #yt22 fic #yk22 SMAU

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drunkenkissesatdusk · 7 months ago

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SOFT. — yt22

pairing . . . yuki tsunoda x reader summary . . . after the particularly disappointing Canada Grand Prix, all Yuki needs to come home to is his partner, cooking for him, as well as fully prepared to be his own personal pillow for the week. warnings . . . nothing really! notes . . . guys I literally love Yuki so much :( also, this is pretty short!!

masterlist

━━━━━━━ YUKI WASN'T HAPPY with how the Canadian Grand Prix ended, but at least he was on his way home, which was all that mattered. He knew you would be home when he touched down, and he'd be touching down in the evening.

He would drive himself home, but he knew you'd be waiting for him there, his favorite dish cooked for him and a bath ready to be ran for him. You catered to his every need when he got home, ready to drop any and everything for him.

It's not like you really had much to worry about, you worked from home. That also made traveling with your boyfriend much easier, being able to hold your entire job on one laptop.

Yuki was right, as soon as he pulled the front door open, the smell of his favorite dish wafted through the air. He was home, and he was safe. He left his work behind him, on the front doorstep. He was home, he didn't have a facade to live up to anymore.

You still stood in the kitchen, dishing out two plates of food when he walked into the kitchen. You faced him, smiling before setting everything down and walking over to him. Wrapping your arms around him, and feeling his around you after so long, was the most relieving part.

"Are you hungry, Yuki?" Your voice was soft, nothing more than a careful whisper. He tiredly nodded, sitting down across from you at the dining room table. You smiled as he ate, he always loved this part of your guys' tradition.

"Should I run us a bath today or tomorrow?" Your hand reached his, tucking into it from where you sat. Yuki was finishing up his meal, drinking most of the cup of water you'd set out for him.

"Tomorrow. I showered before getting on the plane, I want to sleep." He complained, rubbing at his drowsy eyes. You smiled, taking care of both of your plates. It was a matter for tomorrow to wash them, so you pulled Yuki into your guys' bedroom.

You'd made the bed earlier, the windows were pulled open, sheer curtains waving in the moonlight breeze. Yuki and you changed into pajamas, joining each other under the blankets. It was warmer beneath them, and it was also warmer in his arms. But tonight was about Yuki. So, you gathered his head into your chest, and pushed your fingers through his hair.

As they moved through his hair, they scratched against his scalp, which effectively put him to sleep.

#ceciljameswork #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 #fluff #yuki tsunoda #yt22 #yt22 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #yuki tsunoda imagine #yuki tsunoda x reader #yuki tsunoda x you

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agendabymooner · 1 year ago

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CHAOS FAMILY! yt22 social media snapshot

summary: a series of instagram stories in which your favourite menace in the team radio is a dad. you can only imagine what’s that like having a chaos for a dad.

content warning: dad!yuki tsunoda, named account user (pia ellis), yuki being a cool dad and a menace, funny banters, wholesome content, chaos

note: stopping myself from writing more smut so here’s a yuki content 😚😚 enjoy xx

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

papayapia’s instagram archive: THE BEBES 💗

the little mini yukis

hana tsunoda

shin tsunoda

#yuki tsunoda #yuki tsunoda imagine #yuki tsunoda smau #yuki tsunoda instagram au #yuki tsunoda x reader #yuki tsunoda x you #yuki tsunoda fic #yt22 #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #f1 smau #formula one smau #formula 1 #yuki tsunoda fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 social media au #formula one dad #formula one fluff #f1 fic

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scrollonso · 2 months ago

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Babysitting Duty — Lawhan

@ellearts for you ofc!! love you elle baby

Just like every other normal adult with a job on a Friday morning, Liam is at work, looking through his previous race stats and figuring out what went wrong when suddenly the screen of his phone lights up with a new notification.

lance, 09:38

okay so

just so you know

you’re on babysitting duty today

liam, 09:38

Good morning to you too

Also no.

lance, 09:38

wtf

you're her favourite uncle

liam, 09:39

Jack and I have plans.

lance, 09:39

even better!!!

he can help you as well <3

Liam feels his eye twitching.

“I’ll be back in a second.” He tells Yuki, who shrugs beside him and doesn’t even arch an eyebrow when Liam pushes the chair back so forcefully that the metal legs of it almost break, and then marches out of the library like a man on a mission.

“This is the fourth time this week alone.” Liam hisses the moment his friend answers the phone and barely has time to let a word out.

“Li, please .”

“Listen, I love Delilah, I really do,” Liam sighs out and leans back against the tree in the park, suppressing the urge to bang his head against it. “but you know that Jack has been drowning in work and we’ve barely had time to spend together off track since August, it’s November now.”

“This is the last time, I swear.” Lance tells him and even through the phone, Liam can hear desperation in his voice. He slightly bangs his head against the wall. “Luca and I have to go to Monaco, we weren’t planning to, but we’re scared those motherfuckers are destroying the house instead of building it and I can not take my 2 years old daughter all the way to fucking Monte Carlo because her uncle is a massive–”

“Lance.” Liam interrupts him before he has time to send himself into a cardiac arrest which is truly the last thing Liam wants or has time for right now. “Fine.”

“Really?”

“Of course, you asshole, when have I ever told you no?”

“Literally five minutes ago?”

“You know I can very easily change my mind, right?” Although Lance can’t see him, Liam has that smug smirk on his face that always makes his "brother" want to punch him in the face.

“But you won’t because you love Lilah and you love me and–”

“No, I do not.” Liam cuts him off and he doesn’t even need to specify that he’s talking about Lance — though his bonus brother knows Liam loves him he definitely knows he's not talking about his one and only and favourite neice. Liam would go to hell and back for her. “Now can you please get off my back so I can go and work like every normal adult does on nine in the morning?”

Lance doesn’t miss a beat before chirping, “technically, it’s already ten.”

“I’m hanging up.”

As always, Liam stays true to his word and hangs up before Lance has time to tell him when he needs to pick Delilah up from the daycare. He doesn’t really need to because Liam has his schedule memorised (considering how many times he had to pick the kid up instead of his idiot brother and brother-in-law since they adopted Delilah) and plus, it’s not even him who’s going to be picking him up.

“Hey, love.” He can hear the smile in Jack’s voice the moment he answers. “Is everything alright?”

“Debatable.” Liam, being the dramatic little shit that he is, whines out and is definitely not offended at the sound of Jack giggling on the other side at his theatrics, thank you very much. “We’re on babysitting duty tonight, again, for the fourth time this week.”

“I did have a feeling that you were going to call me about that.” Jack hums, and even without being able to see him, Liam knows that he’s spinning around in his stupid spinning chair in the Alpine office like a little kid (Liam wants a freaking spinning chair too).

“Which means that you already know you’re going to be the one picking her up from the daycare?” Liam asks with a grin on his face.

“You know it wouldn’t kill you every now and then to walk to her daycare and meet the teachers, right?”

“Oh, sorry, I can’t hear you anymore, the service here is terrible, bye.”

Liam slams his finger against the end call button so firmly that his thumb starts to hurt, but whatever. He is not walking all the way to that daycare after a long day at work; he would rather die, no offense to the Marini-Stroll family.

And, truth be told, Liam finds it very interesting that Jack loves to make fun of him for hating to go to places that are too far from his flat or his work, considering that Jack drives everywhere and yet, he still hasn’t taught Liam anything, no matter how many times Liam begged him to teach him how to drive — it's more different from racing than one would think.

A traitor of a husband, that’s what he is, but Liam still loves him with his entire being.

After letting out a small, quite embarrassing giggle at the dumb meme Jack sent of himself right after he hung up, Liam shoves his phone into his pocket and walks back inside the library, a small huff breaking out of his throat as he throws himself onto that uncomfortable chair.

“We need to get new chairs,” he complains to Yuki, who doesn’t even remove his gaze from his laptop as he hums absent-mindedly. “I’m serious, these are so uncomfortable.”

“Or maybe you're just jealous that your husband has a spinning chair at Alpine's building and you don’t.” The corners of his mouth twitch upwards slightly the moment Liam groans quietly and bangs his head on the top of his desk.

However, his frustration gets thrown out the window the second he reads a newly received email from Christian, saying that he has to cancel tomorrow’s meeting for family emergency reasons. Liam hopes that the man and his family are alright but holy shit, he won’t have to sit there and fight the urge to lose his mind for three hours on Saturday morning and he will be able to spend a morning lazily in bed with his husband — God bless.

Liam sends a quick message to Jack, announcing his once-in-a-lifetime moment to him, receiving dozens of confetti emojis (and an eggplant emoji; Liam hates this man) in return before he returns to the list of those damned books — yes, red bull has assigned him readings to complete before he can drive — with a dumb grin on his face.

Liam slams his laptop shut right at 5:58 pm.

“If I have to go through this list for one more minute, I will freaking lose it,” he hisses to Yuki, who genuinely doesn’t care or finds it absolutely hilarious when Liam is being tormented. And, considering that this time isn’t any different, he giggles and looks at him with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Just go already, then.” He suggests, as if Liam is an idiot for not even thinking about that option — which is rude, because of course he thought about that option, and that is exactly why he's now shoving his laptop and notebook so aggressively into his bag.

“I am going.” He tells him without any heat and pushes the chair back into its place, flashing a small smile at Yuki now that his mind has accepted he’s about to be free from this hell.

Every complaint about his sometimes pain-in-the-ass job disappears from his head the moment he steps outside the library and sees that Jack is already there.

His husband is wearing classic pants and a shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he looks absolutely gorgeous; Liam almost drops to his knees the moment he processes the outfit (again, because he was quite literally there in the morning when Jack was getting ready). But the thing that gets him the most is that Jack has Delilah in his lap, playing with her and grinning triumphantly when she lets out that heartwarming laugh.

Liam has seen Jack with kids, of course he has, but there’s something so different about this. This, as in Jack picking her up from the daycare, driving straight to Liam’s work, and entertaining her while they wait for Liam to be done so they can all go home. There’s something so unbearably domestic about it.

Liam has always known that he and Jack would have kids, but it was mainly him who asked Jack not to rush into things, especially when they’re as serious as adopting and raising a child, and they’ve been married only for a year. But it hits Liam suddenly, totally unexpectedly, that there’s nothing he wants more than to raise children with Jack now, and he can not wait for it to happen.

“Love, is everything alright?” Jack asks with worry in his eyes and slowly gets up from the bench. He puts Delilah on his hip and starts walking toward Liam when he notices that he’s cemented to the spot, staring at them with his mouth agape.

It’s like Liam’s brain is refusing to cooperate and form words, so all he does is give Jack a small nod in return. The second Jack is close enough, Liam grabs him by his tie and pulls him down carefully, a sound escaping Jack’s throat quickly muffled by Liam’s mouth.

“Everything is perfect,” Liam breathes against his lips, hearing Jack let out a small chuckle at his hoarse voice. He would definitely ask what all of that was about if it hadn’t been for Liam turning to Delilah to pinch her cheeks almost painfully until the girl turned to put her face into the space between Jack's neck and shoulder. Liam grins, prideful. “Let’s go home, I’m starving.”

Thankfully, on their way back home, Delilah seems to remember that Liam isn’t an evil uncle who’s going to eat her whole and is, in fact, her favourite uncle. For at least twenty minutes, she chatters about everything and anything, while Jack and Liam nod along, even though they can barely make out half the words she’s saying.

At some point, Jack mutters under his breath that he has two kids in his car, because Liam gets so close to throwing a tantrum in the moving car until Jack finally stops by Dunkin’ to get his husband his daily dose of sickly sweet donuts. Jack doesn’t even bother to hide the fond smile that creeps onto his face when Liam’s eyes light up as soon as Jack hands him the box.

Getting Delilah to wash her hands and change into the extra clothes her dads left around Liam's flat is quite a struggle, to say the least. But with combined powers, they manage to achieve the goal, just like they manage to convince her to eat a proper meal instead of filling up on the donuts Jack brought for Liam.

However, when it comes to finding something to entertain Delilah so she doesn’t notice that her dads aren’t there with her — and to prevent her from tormenting poor Enzo — that’s when all hell breaks loose.

“We’re putting on Cars!” Liam declares, grabbing a DVD from the shelf.

“No, we are putting on Animaniacs for Lilah!” Jack retorts, reaching for another DVD.

“Cars!”

“Animaniacs!” Jack fires back, grinning.

“Animaniacs doesn't teach her anything!” Liam protests.

“You wanna put on a movie about talking vehicles!” Jack counters, folding his arms.

“Jack Doohan, we will put on Animaniacs or you’re staying home next month, and I’m taking Mick with me to Abu Dhabi!” Liam threatens, wagging a finger at him.

In the end, all three of them end up sprawled on the couch, cuddled up and cozy, drifting off to sleep to the sound of cars driving and Mater Mater-ing.

When Liam wakes up with Delilah nestled on his chest and Jack’s arm wrapped protectively around both of them, he can’t help but smile. This might just be his definition of perfect.

Liam feels Jack's arms around his naked body and the man's chest against his back before he even fully comes back to consciousness. That doesn’t stop him from letting out a contented hum and snuggling more into his husband’s touch before it suddenly hits him that he has absolutely no clue if he put Delilah to bed properly yesterday or not.

Almost as if Jack heard Liam’s thoughts, he tightens his hold and nuzzles his nose into Liam’s neck, murmuring before Liam has a chance to start panicking, “Lance and Luca picked her up while you were sleeping last night.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” Liam grumbles, turning around in Jack’s arms, almost squishing his nose against Jack’s chest in the process.

“Because.” Jack replies simply, and before Liam has time to complain about how that’s not a proper answer, Jack pushes him onto his back and drapes his body over Liam’s, earning a small, winded oof from him.

Liam smiles fondly at Jack curling against him like an actual cat (even though they both agree Jack is a golden retriever while Liam is a cat, never mind Lance calling them both idiots for it). Wasting no time, he wraps his arms around his husband, burying half of his face in Jack’s soft waves.

“I think Delilah had a good time yesterday,” Jack whispers against Liam’s throat, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down Liam’s spine.

“She always has a good time here, torturing our poor puppy and getting you to stuff her face with sweets.” Liam says with a small smile, running his hands up and down Jack’s bare back, scratching here and there for the fun of it.

“There are sacrifices we all have to make to get a kid to like us.” Jack declares, looking up at Liam with that toothy grin, and Liam just has to kiss him for it.

“You’re great with kids,” he tells Jack, watching as his sleepy eyes start sparkling with happiness like a little kid’s. Liam hopes Jack doesn’t notice the way his heartbeat rises at the words he’s planning to say next. “You’ll be an amazing dad.”

“You’ll be an amazing dad too, Li.” Jack says, leaning forward to leave a soft kiss against the corner of Liam’s mouth before his husband tugs at his curls, pulling him into a proper, open-mouthed kiss.

“Jack, I mean that—” Liam tries to continue after breaking the kiss, but he isn’t exactly sure how to say it without freaking him out, because what if Jack isn’t ready or doesn’t want kids, or doesn’t want kids with him, or—

“You’re overthinking again.” Jack’s sweet voice interrupts Liam’s spiraling thoughts just in time, and he can feel the anxiety start to fade as Jack cups his face gently, pressing his forehead against Liam’s and looking into his eyes. “What is it, love?”

“You— you want to have kids with me…right?” Liam asks, wincing internally at how choked the words sound.

“I— Li, sweetie, of course I do!” Jack looks so surprised by the question that for a moment, Liam genuinely worries his eyes might fall out of their sockets. “Did you think I didn’t want to?”

“No, I just…” Liam almost groans, trying to look away but failing due to the way Jack is holding him firmly and staring into his eyes. “I just really want to raise a child with you, and— I needed to make sure you felt the same.”

Jack’s confused expression softens, replaced by a fond look in his brown eyes, and he kisses Liam again, though both struggle with it since Jack can’t stop smiling.

“Li, there’s nothing in this world I want more than having kids with you.” Jack whispers against his lips, his smile growing even wider at the sight of tears gathering in Liam’s eyes. “In fact, we can start working on it right here and now—”

“You’re such an idiot.” Liam laughs, which quickly turns into a quiet whimper as Jack presses himself between Liam’s legs, leaning down to kiss and bite his throat.

“So I’ve been told.” Jack hums. “But you love me for it.”

“I do.” Liam’s hands slide up into Jack’s hair again before he tugs hard enough to make Jack look at him. “I’m choosing the name.”

“Why not me?”

“Because you’ll name him after a MotoGP world champion or a video game!”

“I would not— him?”

Liam isn’t sure why, but he instantly blushes and nods, “I want to have a boy.”

“I’m starting to think you’ve already picked a name.” Jack says, his voice full of adoration as he brushes a strand of hair out of Liam’s face and kisses his forehead, the tip of his nose, and then his lips.

“I have.” Liam admits, feeling the tips of his ears grow hot as he watches Jack’s expression turn awestruck.

“Well, tell me then!”

“Pierce.” Liam whispers, playing with Jack’s curls as Jack looks at him like he’s falling in love all over again. “Pierce Doohan-Lawson— it sounds cute, doesn’t it?”

“It does— Longest name ever, but it really does.” Jack whispers, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he grins wide enough to rival the sun before pulling his husband into another deep kiss.

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old-lorarri · 2 years ago

Text

❨ main f1 masterlist | football masterlist ❩

𝐘𝐔𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐃𝐀

𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 → yuki tsunoda x fem! arab! heiress! reader

freshly single and ready to mingle he takes a trip to saudi arabia where he is caught getting cozy with an heiress

𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏 𝐁𝐅 → yuki tsunoda x fem! gf! bookworm! reader

it's yuki's birthday and his girlfriend just had to make every single person in the world feel even more single than normal

𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 → yuki tsunoda x fem! gf! surgeon! reader

a world renowned surgeon and an f1 driver in a long distance relationship always rember to send each other sweet texts until one day when they remove the distance between them

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐔𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 → yuki tsunoda x fem! nakagami! kpop idol! reader

with the kpop girl gourp aespa on a haitus one of the member decideds to venture out of the pond all the way to italy where she meets someone who becomes very important to her very fast

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spamsmcgee · 1 year ago

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I Put a Spell on You

-> I Put a Spell on You from Hocus Pocus

Yuki Tsunoda x the short alt reader face claim: Jenna Ortega

In honor of the Belgian Yoints, enjoy some post race celebration fluff. Referencing some spice, but not nsfw.

yourinstagram

Liked by yukitsunoda0511, pierregasly and Others

yourinstagram weekend fits babe 🖤

yukitsunoda0511 I do still think you should wear more AlphaTauri gear

yourinstagram As long as it isn’t another neon pink

alphataurif1 We’ll see what we can do 👀

formulawhat Yuki can you fight?

userrrrrr Didn’t think Yuki would be into that

yourinstagram tbh neither did I

You watched from the garages. A promising p11 qualifying led to a very loud garage. Mechanics around you holding their breaths, jumping with every overtake. By the time lap 40 rolled around you had been crouched on your chair, fingers crossed and eyes trained on the screens.

The last lap closed out, with Yuki taking home the point. Mechanics swarmed him as he pulled into the garage. As soon as he could tear his helmet off you had all but jumped into his arms. He held onto you before the two of you were ushered out and towards the media pens.

Your arm tossed over his shoulder, his held your waist close.

The two of you walked on, being led by officials to the media pens. You would hang back, watching as he would chat on about his points finish. As usual, post race media took way too long. Before his interviews were even done he had grabbed you by the hand, holding you close to his side as he spoke to Will Buxton.

It took entirely too long before the two of you made it back to his motor home, and even longer before the two of you had settled into his bed after the more interesting post race celebrations.

His hair brushed against your nose as he pushed himself up to lay on your chest. His hands buried themselves under the oversized band shirt you had changed into, massaging your sides in a half asleep haze.

A soft groan left him as you raked your own hands through his hair. Sure, you just had to get his hair out of your nose, but it did evolve into brushing through his hair as you looked down at him.

His eyes moved under closed lids.

“What’re you thinking about?” You asked, moving his head up to face you with a finger under his chin.

With his eyes still closed he moved a hand to your face, cupping your cheek while still rubbing on your side with his free hand. “You,” he said before finally opening his eyes back up.

Your hand found it’s way back into his hair, “what about me?”

“Let’s get married.”

You laughed it off. You knew well enough that whenever he came off of that post race adrenaline he was always more affectionate. The way he looked at you had you melting inside. Those brown eyes glowing in the dim light of the motorhome. Windows shielded by blackout curtains save for a sliver of sunlight peeking through to perfectly reflect that deep brown in the warmest way.

Those brown eyes that always looked best in the dusk hours when the sun starts to set. However the sun wouldn’t set for another few hours, the simulated darkness would do.

“I’m serious,” he said, voice dropping to a whisper as he pulled himself closer to your face. His nose brushing against yours, breath against your face. “You can pick out your ring, I’ll take you anywhere.”

His lips caught yours in a slow progression. Lazy, after the high speed day the two of you had thus far. You responded between long, drawn out kisses. He wouldn’t let you get away with more than one or two words before catching you again.

“I want,”

“Propose to me”

He only nodded, continuing his unspoken praises. The fire he might have had some twenty minutes before had died down into a low simmer that professed his love for you between every kiss. Time would drag on, for maybe a minute more, before he planted a quick kiss on your nose. Another to your cheek. And one on your neck as he settled against you to finally pass out from the day.

Leaving you to once again brush through his hair, and stare down at him. Taking in that face. The face you could get used to waking up with every morning. Doing taxes and folding laundry with. The face you could never live without. The whole thing.

yukitsunoda0511

Liked by yourinstagram, pierregasly and Others

yukitsunoda0511 So happy for p10, glad to get points before summer break. Always thank you yourinstagram for being here for me, and always feeding me after races. Now to rest up for the next half of the season 👍👍

yourinstagram that’s my mans 😩😩

yukitsunoda0511 And your mom says she doesn’t like me

yourmom Yuki!! You know you’re my favorite!

f1fannn Oh Yuki definitely got laid after this

formulawhat they’re basically Morticia and Gomez, he would’ve gotten some if he dnfed

f1fannn You right, did you see the way he was looking at her during the post race show?

#yuki tsunoda #yt22 #f1 x reader #yuki tsunoda x reader #yoints baybee #return of the short alt girlfriend #Yuki got p10 so here’s some fluff

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minkyungseokie · 9 months ago

Text

Yuki Tsunoda; YT22

Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist

⎆Written

There's nothing yet...

⎆Blurbs

There's nothing yet...

⎆Smau

There's nothing yet...

⎆Series

There's nothing yet...

⎆Moodboards

There's nothing yet...

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multicohn · 1 month ago

Text

summary: y/n is the only person who can calm yuki down

warnings: cursing? not proofread so spelling errors or missing words might be present

pairing: gn! reader x yuki tsunoda

genre: fluff, comfort, established relationship

author note: “i need to write other drivers” - i say while writing more yuki

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

loud bangs and even louder cursing was easily heard from yuki’s driver room. he had another awful race where his patience became thinner and thinner every lap that passed, but finally broke it was being hit from behind by kevin. yuki knew it was accident, his brakes weren’t working properly and he even checked on him before apologising, but something had been going wrong for the last few races and yuki was very close to just ripping the car apart barehanded.

“fuck this! fuck everything!”

everyone knew to leave yuki alone when he was angry or else he’ll snap at whoever entered.

however, unbeknownst to everyone, there is one person who can calm down quickly.

yuki snatched his phone out of his bag to decline who was calling, but paused at seeing the familiar contact name. he let it ring before taking a deep breath and calling back.

“hi, honey” the sound of their voice made yuki take a deep breath

"hi, y/n"

"wanna talk about it?" yuki leaned against the wall before slowly sliding down

"i'm going to rip that stupid piece of shit apart with my bare hands soon" y/n snorted at this which made a small smile creep onto yuki's face

"be careful when you do and make sure you wear gloves in case they investigate or something like that" yuki chuckled

“don’t worry i will”

then silence.

yuki wanted to keep his relationship private and away from the media, some drivers have asked him when they were certain that there were no mics around if he had a partner, but yuki never gave a straightforward answer which left them wondering.

“how’s ( work / studying )?”

“tiring, but it’ll be over soon and then we can spend the whole break together in peace” yuki let out a sigh, his shoulders shagging at the thought. he loves to race, but he loves doing nothing and spending time with his partner

“i got interviews soon”

“think anyone’s figured it out?” he rolled his eyes

“no. they probably still think i got a talking to or something” y/n laughed loudly which made yuki easily follow along

it soon quieted down and y/n released a sigh.

“i have to go ( my lecture is starting / my break is almost over ). you okay, now?”

“yeah” he breathed out

“thank you”

“don’t mention it. i’ll see you soon”

“i love you”

“i love you too”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

extra scene:

yuki put his phone back, released a sigh, and started tidying up the room. once everything was… somewhat neater than he left it, yuki opened the door to see his manager staring at him with their mouth wide open.

“what?”

“how did you calm down so quickly?” yuki shrugged

“i drank a redbull”

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wethotcrazy · 2 months ago

Text

SYMPATHY IS A KNIFE

pairing: Yuki Tsunoda x Fem! Driver! Reader

word count: 3727

this is loosely based off of sympathy is a knife by charlie xcx, it’s a lot of world building please bear with me i have a vision (-﹏-。) also expect cursing. this is quite a long one (im working on multiple parts), i'll try to post as much as can.

part ii part iii part iv

All children are encouraged to do their best, dream big, and reach for the stars. But let's be honest: how many kids actually achieve that goal? How many adults can say they have been fighting for their place for far longer than they can remember?

Not a lot.

That kind of passion was rare. But perhaps it was more than passion; maybe it was the sick sense of wanting something bigger than yourself. Maybe she was just a workhorse that never learned when to stop.

Growing up karting was where Yn found a love for motorsports, it was her dad that introduced her to it. A part of her felt for the older man; this had been his dream as much as it was hers. Back then, it had always been just a hobby, even though she had already achieved multiple wins. She never thought it would come this far.

At 16, she was picked up by the Red Bull junior team to race in various junior categories, eventually making it into Formula 3 and then Formula 2. Even then scoring points and race wins came easy. Years of hard work and dedication had done her well, with many saying that a Formula 1 career was surely in the cards for her.

And if she was being honest, Yn was hungry for that Formula 1 seat.

Yn’s laptop lit up with an email, enclosed was her contract with VCARB. She was going into Formula 1. Was it arrogant to say she had been expecting this? Could you blame her for asserting it wasn’t a matter of if, but when?

But signing the contract should have felt like a victory, a promise fulfilled, a chance for everything she’d worked toward to pay off. But as the seconds flew by, Yn could already feel the weight settling over her, heavy as a storm cloud. The stakes had never been this high, and the whispers were already there, quietly accusing, scrutinizing. Her entrance into F1 wasn’t just a testament to her skill and ambition; it was a flashpoint, a reason for some to undermine her achievements and question her right to be here.

F1 wasn’t just a men’s world—it was a battleground where “passion” for her felt dangerously close to “obsession,” and her relentless pursuit of victory was both her strength and her vulnerability. Yn knew that she couldn’t just be good; she had to be perfect, ruthless in her pursuit for wins and podiums, and undeterred by every sly remark and skeptic. Sympathy, after all, was nothing but a knife in disguise, and she’d long since learned not to expect it from anyone, even her team.

Her first day at VCARB was a whirlwind of meetings, briefings, and countless faces both excited and skeptical. The engineers studied her, sizing up the girl who was stepping into a seat she’d earned, but one they seemed to question if she could keep. Her jaw tightened with determination—she would prove every one of them wrong, and not out of spite but out of an unyielding hunger to carve her name in F1 history.

Yuki arrived in the afternoon, a familiar face in a sea of unknowns. With an easy grin, he crossed the garage, his demeanor effortlessly lighthearted as he joked with the engineers before catching her eye. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you here so soon,” he teased, a glimmer of pride in his eyes that he knew she’d earned.

She let a small smile slip, and for a moment, the walls she’d erected came down. “Surprised? I thought you’d know better,” she quipped back, crossing her arms.

“Not surprised,” he replied. “Just excited. Maybe I’ll finally have someone here to keep me on my toes.”

But behind their friendly exchange was an edge, a reminder that this was a competition and that teammates or not, they were both vying for survival in the world’s most ruthless racing series. They had both clawed their way here, and no amount of camaraderie could change the fact that every second on the track was a chance to prove they deserved to stay.

Underneath Yuki’s easygoing nature, she knew there was a fierce competitor. She’d seen him race, seen the raw talent that made him as unpredictable as he was quick. Yn knew they’d push each other to the limits, that their friendship would inevitably become a duel of ambition. And she wanted that—it made her hungrier, sharper.

But there was something different about her fight. Being the first female F1 driver in years meant her wins were never just hers; every success and failure became ammunition for those who doubted women in motorsport. There was no room for mistakes, and any slip-up would be amplified, dissected in the press, on social media, even in private conversations she was never meant to hear.

One night, as she stared out at the empty track after hours, she felt Yuki’s presence beside her. “They’re going to be watching everything I do,” she said, voice low, a rare admission of vulnerability.

“They watch all of us,” he replied softly, his voice uncharacteristically serious. “But I know how hard you’ve worked to get here. And… well, if they think they can beat you down, you’re gonna prove them wrong. Just… stay hungry, yeah?” He nudged her shoulder gently.

“Hungry?” she scoffed, steeling herself. “I’m starving.”

Yuki chuckled, but it was laced with respect. “Good. Because that’s what it takes.”

The season had started on fire for Yn. Her first four races saw her consistently in the points, an impressive feat for any rookie, let alone one under as much pressure and scrutiny as she was. Headlines praised her talent, with journalists and fans alike marveling at her ability to keep up with more seasoned drivers. Her team, too, seemed to start letting their guard down, seeing her not as a gamble, but as an asset. But as is often the case in Formula 1, the success didn't last forever.

Her fifth race began with promise, but Yn knew almost from the start that something was off. The car felt different, twitchy around the corners, each lap feeling more and more like she was on a knife’s edge. Halfway through, she could feel her grip on the track slipping, but she pushed harder, unwilling to lose ground.

With just a few laps remaining, the inevitable happened.

The crash was swift and brutal. The car spun out in the third sector, her back tires skidding as she lost control. She hit the barriers hard, the sound of carbon fiber breaking echoing through her helmet. Her vision blurred as the world spun, then finally stopped, leaving her breathless in the cockpit, staring at the wreckage around her.

Her engineer’s voice came through her headset immediately. “Yn, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly, trying to steady herself, adrenaline still pumping as she felt the sting of defeat sink in. “I… I’m sorry. I lost it. The car just—slipped.”

There was a pause on the other end, a moment that felt like judgment even through the crackling radio. “We’re glad you’re okay. We’ll get you back to the garage. We’ll review the data,” her engineer replied, his voice careful.

Yuki’s voice came through on her personal channel moments later, after seeing her crash on his onboard. “Yn? You alright?” His tone was laced with concern, stripped of the usual playfulness.

She swallowed, fighting the frustration building in her chest. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… pissed off.”

“You’ll be back next race,” he assured her, but she could only respond with silence. The shame of letting her team, her fans, and herself down weighed heavily on her.

In the post-race interview, Yn struggled to find the right words. The cameras focused on her, the flash of lights overwhelming as journalists fired questions, each one cutting a little deeper.

“Yn, it was a tough day. Do you think the pressure got to you out there?”

She clenched her fists, forcing a composed smile. “I don’t think it’s about pressure. Today just… wasn’t my day. The car was giving me some issues, and I did my best to control it. Sometimes, that’s just racing.”

“But after four races in the points, are you worried this is a sign of things to come?”

The question sliced through her like a knife, and she could feel the weight of the implication: that she was fragile, a fluke who’d just been lucky.

“No, I’m not worried,” she replied, her voice steady but tense. “One race doesn’t define my season. I’m here to compete, and I’ll be back even stronger next race.”

When the interviews ended, she caught Yuki’s eye across the paddock. He gave her a nod, a silent show of support that reminded her she wasn’t alone, even if it felt like she was carrying the world’s judgment on her shoulders.

The news coverage the next day was ruthless. Headlines screamed with exaggerated disappointment: “Yn Cracks Under Pressure?” and “First Female F1 Driver in Years Falters After Promising Start.” A few outlets were kinder, chalking up the crash to typical rookie mistakes and downplaying any concerns over her ability to handle the car. But most took the crash as an invitation to dissect her every move, doubting whether she could handle the demands of the sport.

Social media was ablaze, fans and critics alike chiming in, and Yn could barely stand to look. She knew this was part of the game, that everyone in F1 was under scrutiny, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that for her, the stakes were higher. Every failure she faced felt amplified, a reason for the world to question her right to be here.

Yuki called her that night, his voice calm and soothing against the chaos swirling around her.

“I’m just so pissed,” she admitted finally, her frustration cracking through her voice. “I wanted to prove that I belong here, and now… it feels like all anyone sees is this one mistake.”

“You know that’s not true,” he replied, a hint of warmth in his tone. “Everyone makes mistakes, even the greats. They’ve all crashed at some point. Don’t let them take that fire from you. Because once the season’s over, they’ll see what you’re made of.”

She took a shaky breath, comforted by his words. It was strange—she’d started this journey expecting every teammate to be a rival, another barrier to overcome. But in Yuki, she’d found someone who understood the relentless, hungry drive that fueled her, and who respected it.

The next morning, her team’s engineers ran a debrief, analyzing the telemetry and tire data from the crash. They assured her that she’d made the right call in pushing the car, that the twitchiness wasn’t imagined. Yn felt a flicker of relief; maybe she hadn’t just cracked under pressure, maybe it had been an unfortunate mix of circumstances. But no matter the reason, she knew she had to rise from this stronger than before.

It had been a long race, Jeddah was grueling and relentless, yet Yn had been on the verge of a breakthrough. She was fighting tooth and nail for P8, going wheel-to-wheel with Fernando Alonso in the final laps. She’d been holding her own, each move calculated, each corner taken with the precision she’d been honing for years. This was her shot, her chance to show everyone she wasn’t a fluke or a face in the crowd. She was ready to prove herself.

Then it happened.

They clashed in the final sector, both fighting for space. Fernando took the inside line, edging her out, and she, desperate to hold her position, stayed close, too close. Their wheels touched, and in a flash, her car lost stability, skidding and spinning before colliding with the barrier. The jolt left her breathless, her hands gripping the wheel as the rage took over.

Her engineer’s voice cracked through the radio. “Yn, are you okay? What happened?”

She clenched her jaw, trying to control the fury building up inside her. “That fucking guy, Alonso! He squeezed me—left me no room!” Her voice was shaking, frustration and adrenaline spilling over. “I had that position!”

There was a silence on the radio as they processed her words. “Copy, Yn. We saw the incident. Just stay calm.”

Stay calm? She’d given everything, and now, twice in a row, her race had ended in ruin.

After the race, Yn felt the press of cameras and microphones on her as she trudged toward the media pen. She could barely contain the frustration bubbling inside her, a storm barely held back as reporters closed in, questions already on their tongues.

“Yn, this is the second crash in a row. Are you feeling the pressure of Formula 1?”

“What’s your take on the incident with Alonso? Do you blame him?”

Yn took a steadying breath, but the calm she'd usually conjure wasn't there. “Look,” she said, voice tight, trying to keep her tone steady, “I know what happened out there, and Alonso gave me no space. I was holding my line, fighting for position like we all do. I’ll review the footage with the team, but if people think I can’t handle the pressure—they’re wrong.”

The next question felt even more loaded. “Is it challenging to maintain focus, given the scrutiny you’re under as the first female driver in years?”

She forced a smile, one that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m not here to be a spectacle; I’m here to race. Everyone’s under pressure in this sport. It’s what makes us competitors. The scrutiny just makes me hungrier.”

Her words were pointed, but she could already feel the twisting of her words forming in the reporters’ minds, their pens scratching away, headlines already buzzing to life in their notebooks.

The news the next morning was merciless. Some articles analyzed her crash with Alonso, calling it a “rookie miscalculation,” while others openly questioned whether Yn’s composure was “cracking” under the scrutiny. The worst were the opinion pieces, suggesting she might be better suited to junior categories if she couldn’t handle the rigors of F1.

Yuki found her in the paddock later that evening, her expression set as she packed up her things, clearly wanting to avoid any more eyes on her. He walked over, hands in his pockets, a gentle smile on his face.

“Hey,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. “Rough race out there. I saw the footage—Alonso really gave you no room.”

She shot him a look, her expression unreadable. “Thanks, Yuki, but I don’t need anyone to say it wasn’t my fault. I should’ve handled it better.”

“It wasn’t about fault,” he countered softly, unfazed by her edge. “It was a close fight. You held your ground. Besides, you’re doing something none of these people could even dream of.”

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh, shoving her race gloves into her bag. “Spare me the pep talk. I don’t need anyone’s sympathy. Especially not yours.”

He took a step closer, not backing down. “This isn’t sympathy, Yn. You’re one of the best rookies on the grid. Every one of us has crashed. I know what you’re going through, and I know how much you want this. But maybe don’t let their voices drown out what you already know—you deserve to be here.”

She wanted to tell him to stop, to remind him that it was different for her, that every mistake was fuel for those doubting her existence in this sport. But instead, she looked away, unable to bring herself to speak. She didn’t want to be seen as weak, as someone who needed reassurance.

Yuki sighed, catching the conflicted look in her eyes. “Alright,” he said quietly, his gaze softening. “Just… don’t forget that you’ve got people here who believe in you. No matter what the headlines say.”

She gave him a brief, reluctant nod, her voice a whisper. “Thanks, Yuki. But belief isn’t going to get me P8.” She turned and headed for the exit, leaving him behind as the words hung in the air, heavy with the reminder of just how high the stakes were.

Yuki knew things had changed since those days in the Red Bull junior program. Back then, it was just him and Yn, two kids pushing limits, sharing laughs and late nights studying data, feeling like the world wasn’t so big, like maybe they’d take it on together someday. She’d always been determined, sometimes stubbornly so, but she’d had that spark, that glint in her eye when she talked about F1 like it was the only thing that mattered. But now, standing at the pinnacle they’d dreamed of, Yuki could feel the distance growing between them, a wall she was building with every race, every misstep, every setback.

He tried to remind her of those lighter times, even when the racing got intense. On weekends, he’d linger in the garage with her, cracking jokes, trying to coax a laugh out of her, like they used to do after tough sessions back in Formula 2. But it felt different now. She had this look, as if there was a weight pressing on her that no amount of lightheartedness could lift.

The night after her crash with Alonso, Yuki tried again, catching up to her outside the paddock as she was leaving. “Hey!” he called, jogging to catch up. “Thought maybe we could grab a bite together. There’s this place nearby that serves ridiculous ramen—reminds me of the spot we’d hit after races.”

She hesitated, her gaze distant, before letting out a sigh. “Yuki, I’m tired. I just want to go back to the hotel and review the data. It was a messy race, and I don’t think I have much appetite.”

Yuki’s shoulders dropped, but he shrugged, forcing a smile. “We could just hang out, then. No data. Just us. I mean… it’s been a while since we’ve really relaxed, you know?”

She gave him a weary smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I appreciate it, really. But I need to focus. I can’t afford to mess up again, not with everything they’re saying.”

He could hear the bitterness in her voice, the resentment barely hidden beneath. It killed him to see her like this—so hardened, so guarded. She was always the toughest of the rookies, fearless, but now it seemed like her own passion had turned against her, trapping her in a never-ending battle against herself.

He tried again the next day, lingering by her side during their briefing, sending her a grin every chance he got, trying to bring back that easy dynamic they used to have. But it was like she was somewhere else, somewhere far away where his words couldn’t reach her. She’d nod along, respond, but always with that distracted air, her eyes flicking back to the screen, the telemetry, the data, anything but him.

By the time they were heading out after debrief, Yuki couldn’t hold back anymore. “Yn,” he said, his voice softer, catching her arm as she went to turn away. “I know you’re frustrated, I know it feels like everything’s on the line, but… this isn’t like you. You’re carrying everything on your shoulders alone. Let me be there, like we used to.”

For a moment, her expression softened, a glimpse of the Yn he remembered, the one who used to nudge him in the ribs and joke about who could get pole on the practice track. But it faded just as quickly, replaced by that same stony determination.

“I appreciate it, Yuki. But you don’t understand. It’s different for me.” She pulled her arm back gently, looking away. “Every mistake I make gives people more reasons to think I shouldn’t be here. Every crash, every missed point. Sympathy’s a knife in this sport, and I can’t afford to need anyone’s help. I just… I have to handle it.”

He let her words sink in, feeling the sting behind them, realizing that every race, every session was turning her into someone he barely recognized. But he understood, maybe better than she thought. Yuki knew that in F1, there were those who supported you, but there were also those who’d gladly let you fall, especially if you didn’t fit their mold.

“Maybe it’s different for you,” he said quietly, keeping his voice steady. “But you don’t have to do it alone. We’re teammates. We’re supposed to be here for each other. I’m… I’m supposed to be here for you.”

She looked up at him, and for a second, he thought he’d broken through. But she just shook her head, a faint, sad smile on her lips. “Thanks, Yuki. Really. But I need to be strong enough on my own. If I rely on anyone too much, they’ll use it against me. I have to prove myself, no matter what.”

Yuki watched as she turned away again, shoulders squared, that unyielding resolve back in her posture. He knew there was no convincing her, no getting her to see that it was okay to lean on someone every now and then, that it didn’t make her weak. But as she walked away, he felt the weight of her words settle on him, a sadness mingling with frustration. This wasn’t the Yn he knew—this was someone who felt like she had the world against her, like every race was a fight to justify her existence in F1.

Later that night, Yuki found himself with Pierre, staring at his untouched bowl of ramen, his mind churning. He’d always known Yn was strong, maybe even stronger than him in ways he didn’t fully understand. But it was painful to watch her shoulder that strength like a burden, pushing everyone else away, including him.

He thought about what he could say next time, some way to convince her that she didn’t have to do this alone, that he wasn’t there out of sympathy, but out of respect and genuine friendship. But deep down, he knew that as long as she felt the world’s expectations pressing down on her, she’d keep her guard up. For now, all he could do was be there, waiting, hoping that one day she’d let him in, let him remind her that even in the ruthless world of F1, there was room for someone who’d stand by her side, win or lose.

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