Dance To This Masterlist (Blind! Au) (Service Hybrid Au)

kita always does that closed eye smile when you walk in the room. like a dog sunbathing

It takes you a while to figure it out, but when you do you can't stop seeing it: the way his eyes crinkle at the corner, the sweet smile that curls up at the corners of his mouth, the subtle tilt of his head to one side.

You ask the other Inarizaki boys if they've ever noticed that he does it, and you're met with a chorus of affirmatives.

"Oh, yeah! He always does that!"

"Kita-san's shiba inu smile!"

"He's done that since we were in high school, you know." Aran looks at you with a teasing grin as the other boys fall over themselves laughing while they try to imitate the expression. "It's how we knew he liked you."

And once you're sure it happens, and your suspicions have been confirmed by others, you can't help but test it.

You leave the room under the pretence of doing something in another part of the house, only to step back around the doorframe a few seconds later.

Eyes, lips, head tilt.

"Did you forget somethin'?" Kita asks.

You smile, and let out a little laugh that's really just a burst of air through your nose.

"Yeah," you say, creeping over towards where he's sitting with a book in his hand. You dip down and press a kiss to his forehead, and his face scrunches up a little at the unexpected gesture--a smile not dissimilar to the one he sends you when you walk into a room. You pull away just far enough to appreciate his features as they smooth themselves out again. "Just that."

You see the smile every day, all the time, appreciating it each time more than the last.

First thing in the morning when you wake just before dawn and shuffle out to say goodbye to Kita as he heads out to the fields, and then again when he crests the hill on his walk back from a hard days work and spots you waiting for him on the swing he'd built for you in the backyard.

When walk into your kitchen one evening and find dinner prepared, and flowers waiting in a vase for you--one of Kita's hands curled tight around a little box in his pocket.

And when you cross the threshold to the chapel months later, and catch his eye at the other end of the aisle.

The smile never falters nor fails, though time does change it. As the years go on, the crinkles around his eyes and lips stop smoothing even when the expression lifts; he wears all the years he's loved you, and all the smiles he's shown you in that time in the lines on his face.

It only makes you love it, and him, all the more.

navigation ♡

by members: namjoon seokjin yoongi hoseok jimin taehyung jungkook maknae line bts

by theme: poly hybrid vampire soulmate college mafia exes yandere (soft) royal abo sports general (doesn’t have a particular theme)

masterlists

Flowers [K. B]

Kaz Brekker x reader

word count: 8.4k

summary: some jealousy motivates Kaz to finally face how he feels about you

A/N: I have literally weeks writing this and I hope I got it right, I tried to write the reaction of jealousy as appropriate to Kaz as possible lmao. Also, when this Freddy photoshoot came out I just imagined. You'll find out later, I hope you enjoy it!

taglist: @rustyyyyspoonz @be-lla-vie @milkshake0 @ladespedidas

Kaz took a deep breath before opening the door, bracing himself for what he would face as he crossed into the next room, already a tremendous hubbub.

It was Inej's birthday and you had insisted on throwing her a celebration, something everyone else was excited about, because you thought that of all of you she was the most likely not to have had such a party. Well, actually the main candidate was Kaz but he would kill all of you when he found out that you had arranged a surprise for him.

You had decorated the room in The Slat and you had invited (threatened, rather) the members of The Dregs so that they would celebrate your friend and you also invited (to them, kindly) some girls from The Menagerie, with the security that if someone tried to touch them you would defend them. You also told the criminals that if they thought of bringing a gift they would make sure that it was not stolen, nor was it stained with blood, nor was it from the corpse of a dead person. And so far everything was perfect.

"Kaz!" he was greeted by Per Haskell, who had been playing cards at a table and already had a couple of drinks on him "Son, I admit that when you said you wanted to have a party I thought you were crazy, but this is great."

"Y/N wanted to do it, I didn't" he murmured sincerely and Per just laughed. Parties weren't really his thing, though he'd probably feel better after some alcohol. He looked for his usual group to get closer to them and not die from the anxiety that social situations generated in him.

He found five of his crows chatting and laughing at a table on which was an empty chair, which Kaz thought was surely for him.

"Look who decided to join the party" Nina mocked, looking at the black-haired boy with a smile.

"Happy birthday, Inej" he murmured politely, as he handed the girl a leather case containing a nice set of knives. Her eyes lit up as she thanked her friend and Kaz allowed himself to smile "Is anyone sitting here?"

"Y/N" replied Jesper, who had an arm around Wylan's shoulders "But she's been missing for a while."

"Maybe she's helping out in the kitchen," suggested Matthias, who was feeling more relaxed than usual.

"Huh-uh" Wylan denied, with a mischievous smile, while he took a sip of his drink "Look there" he exclaimed and his head pointed surreptitiously in one direction.

All eyes at the table looked at you at the bar and Kaz, who hadn't seen you before, was surprised by how jovial you looked. You had left your hair loose and you were wearing light-colored clothing, very different from the usual black, gray, or brown, along with ribbon adorning your hair, but the smile that this generated in the black-haired man was replaced by a frown upon noticing that you were smiling broadly towards another person. Towards a man.

"That girl is on fire" the Grisha mocked, quite proud, and the others made similar comments, between laughs.

"Who is that?" Kaz hissed, sounding angrier than he intended, at Inej, who was closest to him and most likely to know the answer due to your friendship.

“A new guy that Per hired, I thought you knew him. I heard that he comes from Shu Han”

At that moment he turned around and he could see the features that demonstrated that theory: tanned skin, slightly slanted eyes, and black hair. He wore a simple outfit, in very poor taste according to Kaz, and he couldn't have been more than 17 years old. He was just a brat who was too close to you.

Although he didn't say anything, you only needed to see the expression on his face to know that he wasn't happy, something that fortunately no one paid attention to, because they assumed that it was just a normal reaction in Kaz when seeing any kind of displays of affection.

"He's handsome," Jesper muttered, and Wylan turned to give him a pointed glare. "I mean, not like you, nobody's as handsome as you, but he… got his stuff."

Was he really handsome? Kaz didn't know if he was in a position to judge that, since he didn't even know if he was what someone would consider 'attractive'. That had never bothered him, of course, he was simply curious as to what the others might think. What could you think about, actually.

Most of them decided that the matter didn't deserve any more importance and they continued talking about other things, almost all of them logically related to Inej, however, he couldn't take his eyes off you and your peculiar company for even a second. He noticed you chuckled softly and when you did, he could see the guy across from you reach out to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear; Kaz squeezed his cane to appease the urge to go do the same to the aforementioned neck.

Almost as if you felt the heavy gaze you looked in his direction and when your eyes met you smiled reflexively, making his heart race. You still chatted for a while, but your attention wasn't entirely on your new friend now that you were aware of Kaz in the great room. In due course you apologized to him and before saying goodbye he stroked your arm too confidently, promising that he would make sure to look for you later. After he left you practically ran to the table where your friends were.

"Y/N" Inej laughed, feeling you hug her from behind.

“How is the most beautiful birthday girl in the place doing?” you asked excitedly, kissing her on the top of the head and hearing her reply that everything was excellent “Oh, hello, Mr. Brekker. What a joy that you honor us with your presence” you joked as if you had barely noticed, and you were disappointed to see the unfriendly look he gave you.

“Who was the young man you were talking to?” Nina asked casually, while her boyfriend shook his head at how gossipy she was sometimes.

"Lior?" you muttered. So that was the name that should be written on the tombstone "It's huh... a new guy, he was thanking me for inviting him"

“I hope he doesn't get used to it,” Kaz said grudgingly. “Don't think there will be any more birthday parties. Much less with all these Dregs”

A collective groan was heard, alleging that the boss was very bitter and appealing to 'healthy coexistence', which amused you.

"That was my chair, shall I sit on your lap or shall we bring a new one?" you exclaimed, close to the man's ear. Kaz didn't expect that and it was obvious you didn't mean it, but he had to abruptly get up from his chair and walk away, leaving all of you stunned.

"What did you say to him?"

"Nothing! I just told him that I was sitting there, but I was kidding, I didn't want him to leave”

“That's how he is,” Inej said, with a touch of bitterness and a shrug. But you didn't take that so lightly, you hated that Kaz was mad at you because he made you feel so guilty, even if you didn't know what he was mad at. Maybe you had crossed some line? You weren't even going to! It had only been nonsense that had escaped your lips for the liquid value that you had ingested.

You ended up taking the chair that he had left empty and although you participated actively in the conversation you couldn't help but feel restless. Of course you didn't know that Kaz had left there to prevent you from noticing his cheeks flushed with fury at the scene he had seen and the way you had said the name of this Lior guy, a blush that only increased when he felt your breath so close to his skin and hear your soft voice.

First he had to calm down, why had that bothered him in the first place? Although he was aware of a certain protective relationship that he had towards all of you, it was not normal to feel that anger when you were talking to someone else, or when another man was touching you. Jesper was constantly holding your hand, once he had found you and Wylan cuddled up sleeping on a couch and you always challenged Matthias to fights you knew you weren't going to win and he just laughed it off, making no effort. But that was different, he had touched you… with other intentions. Kaz was no fool and he knew better than anyone that you were beautiful in every way, no matter how hard he tried to deny it. He maybe couldn't appreciate the masculine beauty, but, although it was not in his total interest, he could judge the feminine. So he was mad because a guy was interested in you? Was that what explained the heat that grew in his chest and that now he himself was torturing him? But why?

“Kaz Brekker?” said a voice behind him. He had gone outside to get some air and didn't recognize who had called him until he turned around. Today was his damn lucky day "My name is Lior, Per said that you are like the boss"

"I'm not like the boss" Kaz replied with total contempt "I'm the boss"

"Huh, yeah, sure. I'm sorry. I just wanted to introduce myself” Kaz looked at him without saying anything, obviously trying to make the other understand that he had no interest in meeting him, and the boy took the opportunity to clear his throat before speaking again “And… ask you if… a girl I was talking to is from your team. She mentioned you before, her name is Y/N”

Kaz didn't know what that Lior had in mind to go and ask him such a thing, but for a moment he believed in the Saints and thanked them for making him so stupid.

"And what does that interest you, silly boy?" he muttered. Lior was probably the same age as Kaz, but the black-haired man had the advantage of being a few inches taller, of having an imposing presence leaning on his cane, and of… well, being the fucking boss.

"In nothing, I just thought I'd ask you" replied Lior, visibly dismayed by the unexpected hostility of his new leader, and mistakenly thinking that he would fix something, he continued: "She's very kind and I wanted to get to know her better, I thought you could help me”

“You're here to steal, spy and obey orders, you're not here to meet girls, let alone someone like her. So I recommend you keep your distance and focus on the job, which is why we hired you”

and that the contrary had contained himself a little. For a moment he thought that Kaz took his job very, very seriously (it was partly true) so that's why he had been so annoyed at the suggestion of him looking for one of his close friends. He never knew that he was mad to hear that someone so vulgar wanted to befriend his Y/N.

"Kaz!" for a second he thought he was imagining your voice, but when you appeared a few seconds later he knew it wasn't like that "I was looking for you, you... Lior" you interrupted yourself, looking at the other young man who had paled a little "I see that you are already met"

"Yes, we already had the fortune" he answered with all the sarcasm existing in his body, although you didn't notice it.

"I was leaving, anyway"

“Wait, have this,” you said, handing the boy a piece of paper “It's a restaurant, Nina and I go there for breakfast all the time. If you ever want to join us, just say so” Your tone was so kind and your face so happy that Kaz was afraid he would start foaming at the mouth.

"Yes, I..." Lior didn't dare look at Kaz, who was watching him with murderous eyes "I'll think about it, bye"

"Bye," you replied, a little disappointed by his lack of effusiveness.

"You really want to make new friends," he snorted with inevitable scorn.

“Well yeah, my old friends run away from me,” you muttered, keeping your tone playful no matter how upset he was. Then you sighed and got a little more serious, “Listen, I know you hate parties and people, but I would really appreciate it if you were with us at the table. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I did this to have a fun time and to make Inej happy. There is alcohol inside, if you don't like it, I can find you something better to prepare the drink you prefer but, please, stay even for a while"

His frown on him relaxed considerably as he watched your pleading eyes looking down at him but the unknown feeling towards the new guy grew like flames consuming an entire forest. You had told him where you used to go for breakfast, which meant you wanted to see him again.

“Only if you promise not to go out with that idiot” 

“With Lior? And why shouldn't I?

"I already told you. He's an idiot" he said simply and you laughed.

"And how do you know?"

"He looks like one"

"You're going to need a better reason than that and probably a bouquet to convince me otherwise," you muttered, totally sure that the latter was so ridiculous that it would only prove that you weren't going to change your mind. Lior wasn't the most handsome guy for you, that place was reserved for someone special, but you had decided that giving him a chance wasn't such a bad idea “Come on, don't be grumpy, and let's go in there. I got a cake and you don't want to miss it,” you said, starting to walk back inside, and after sighing Kaz followed you without question.

Once morning came the birthday cheer was gone and things went on as usual; going to the Crow club, keeping order at The Barrel, odd jobs, and a couple of unfortunate fights.

In the span of a week you had already seen Lior at least three times, and he always seemed to be conveniently close to various places you frequented. Being with him was nice and little by little you were getting used to his company, the only thing that seemed too strange to you was that every time Kaz appeared in the same place as you he said goodbye and left immediately before your boss could see it. You assumed he was just afraid of him, like most people, and you didn't say anything.

Suddenly you began to think that you had hardly seen the man in those days and you wondered if he was attending to your basic needs since you had hardly seen him go to the kitchen of the place for the food that you prepared. Sometimes loaves of bread would disappear, but that was Fahey's trademark.

"You are listening?" asked Lior, who was in front of you at a betting table and had brought you out of your musings. You were taking a break at the club and again he was hanging around so you thought about having a drink but right now you only remembered the beginning of what he had been saying to you so you couldn't lie to him even if you wanted to. You just smiled embarrassedly in response, making him laugh. "Too much to think about?"

"No, none of that. I was only gone for a moment"

"Well," he started to say, with what you'd already recognized as a flirtatious smile, "I hope I can find you when that happens."

You were going to answer something when you heard a fight near you. A couple of drunks had a disagreement over who had won the game and they thought the most effective way to settle it was beating. You quickly got up from your chair to separate them and had to dodge the fists several times, having no luck a couple of times. Lior was about to jump in to help you when suddenly one of the men fell to the ground with a thud. Everyone in the room looked in the direction of whoever had knocked him down and there was the only logical option.

"If you guys want to beat up each other like animals, do it outside my establishment," was all Kaz said. You were still holding the other man back, but he didn't put up much of a fight when he and his friend were escorted outside. You shook off your jacket and rubbed your arm where one of them had managed to hit you.

This time Lior couldn't escape the boss's eyes and Kaz felt his blood boil again at the sight of his face. He still didn't fully understand the nature of his feelings, but it was clear to him that he didn't want you near that boy after a couple of days when you no longer stopped by to say hello in his office or struck up a conversation with him. Although, indeed, he was never the most sociable now he wanted to make an effort to spend more time with you, but he had difficulties finding ways to do it.

"Damn drunks, huh?"

“Did they hurt you?" he asked quietly. You looked up in confusion and took a moment to process it. Was Kaz worrying about you?

I mean, he cared for all of you during missions and times of real danger, but on those occasions he just saw to it that you stayed alive and continued his duties. It was weird hearing something verbal.

"Nothing I can't handle," you replied, with a challenging little smile.

“I want you to help me with some things. Unless you're busy…”

Saying this he looked at the skinny boy behind you, who looked away immediately. If there was one thing to be recognized about Kaz, it was how he never showed fragility and therefore forced others to surrender first.

"It's that urgent?"

"So I would say"

Now it was you who held his gaze for a few seconds, looking for something implicit that would reveal why he now wanted to take you to another place, but there was nothing. There was only neutrality in those beautiful blue eyes.

“Lior, I have to go. Some work" you exclaimed and he internally celebrated the apparent victory that you had chosen him over someone else, although the satisfaction was short-lived when he saw that you took a step and planted a kiss on the boy's cheek.

Kaz thought about how he wasn't mad at you, but at him, and it suddenly dawned on him that he was actually jealous. That was what he was feeling like a plague.

Jealousy.

You noticed the radical change in his attitude when he didn't even look at you and began to walk quickly down the hall, so you had to speed up to keep up with him. Worst of all, he didn't really have anything he needed help with, he'd just said it so you wouldn't be with the Shu boy, so when you set foot in the office he was stunned.

“I want you to help me sort these documents by date,” he said, extending in your direction a huge folder that he found in a drawer that only contained papers from the previous year. It was not necessary to order that because he had already used it, but he preferred to ask you that than look completely dumb. 

"And the magic words?"

"Abracadabra?" he said sarcastically, but he sighed heavily at the sight of your crossed arms and your clear intentions of not taking the folder until he said so "Please, Y/N"

“Do you see how cute you sound being a polite child?” you exclaimed to annoy him and before another complaint you took the things and placed yourself in an empty end of the desk.

Kaz watched you from time to time, intent on your task, your lips slightly pouting, and each time he did he felt his heart swell. 

What was happening to him? he was afraid that he would find out and not like the answer.

You finished in record time and he let you off to wherever you wanted to go through the door, a little worried that it was with the new kid. As soon as you left he took his hat, coat, and cane to go directly to The Slat, hoping that the person he needed was there.

He knocked on the door a couple of times, but no one answered and for a moment he felt desperate. He badly needed the help of the one person he knew who wouldn't judge him for asking obvious questions and also had enough discretion so that others wouldn't realize he suspected he had feelings for you. He suspected. 

He was going to make one last attempt which wasn't necessary as the door swung open as he raised his fist, revealing a small figure with loose hair and less weaponry than usual.

“Kaz?”

"Hello, Inej"

You were sitting in the dining room of your shared house, pouring yourself some coffee in a chipped cup hoping it was strong enough to wake you up, while you racked your brains trying to solve the mystery that had been bothering you for a few days ago. 

Turns out, after the drunken brawl incident and helping Kaz, you had gone to rest, falling asleep on the bed almost immediately. No problem with that. The strange thing was that the next day you had woken up with a bouquet of wildflowers of various colors resting on the nightstand. The first time you thought that you had put it there and you didn’t remember it, so you just sniffed it with pleasure and placed it in a glass of water. Normal day, you went to sleep at the end and the next morning there it was again. You knew that it was not the one you had collected the day before because these were in the glass. A little confused, you put the new flowers with the old ones and continued with your day, without imagining that the next morning things would repeat themselves. Three times in a row was already disturbing, so you made an effort to imagine who was the author of all this. If it was the girls, it was nice that they had such detail, and you could have even tolerated it from Jes, Wylan, or Matthias, but if it was an outsider then it was a worrying situation because it implied that a lunatic had been messing around to your room at night for a week straight. You made sure to lock your room and still, the flowers appeared there, as if it were a magic trick.

Was it Lior? Impossible, or you would have seen him come in in the morning or at night. Also, one day you had woken up earlier than usual and even that time the flowers were there.

"Bonjour" greeted an energetic Jesper, who had appeared still in nightwear, and ruffled your hair as he approached you "You don't look very lively"

"I am not a morning person," you said sipping your coffee.

One by one your other companions joined the morning coffee, Kaz being the last to arrive. It was funny how much 'morning drinks' could say about each of you: Inej drank coffee with some sugar, Jesper coffee with cream, Wylan drank tea, Matthias just milk, Nina hot chocolate and lastly you and Kaz shared a taste for the coffee bitter and very hot, so it was not a surprise that when he arrived you already had a cup for him.

“We're running low on supplies,” Matthias announced, pointing to the empty cupboard, to which you groaned.

None of you had any culinary skills, but since you were the least likely to give them food poisoning, they had all decided that you would be the designated cook, which included doing the shopping.

"I'll go to the market later"

“I will accompany you,” Kaz said, so fast that they all fell silent and turned their heads to look at him. Observing the situation, he adopted a defensive attitude "I need to buy some things too and I have to make sure Y/N isn't wasting money"

“Sure, my specialty is diverting resources by saying I bought potatoes,” you joked, rolling your eyes. “If you want to go with me, let's go now. At this time there are fewer people" you explained and he nodded. You just finished drinking your coffee and grabbed a large bag in which you loaded the food before leaving the building.

As soon as you got out, they started speculating.

"Why did Kaz want to go?"

"I wonder the same thing"

“Maybe he really did have things to buy,” Matthias said, and though Nina heard her black-haired man's racing heart, she decided not to contradict anyone. Inej looked at her almost as if she read her thoughts and they both shared a knowing look without saying anything.

On the way to the market, neither of you spoke, but he noted that you were right when you said that the city was quieter at that time, probably because life in The Barrel really began when night fell.

The market was quite a distance away, but he put up with it like a champ, so when you got there you were very hungry and you assumed he was the same.

“Eat,” you said suddenly, extending to Kaz a piece of bread with jam inside that you loved to buy when you went there “I pay for this with my own money, by the way. So you don't accuse me of being a thief."

"You are a thief," he reminded you, grimacing and taking a bite of the piece of food. It was sweet, freshly made, and melted in the mouth.

You two walked for a couple of blocks, still in silence, while you were choosing food. You were wondering what those 'things' were that Kaz needed to buy and when he would ask you to make a detour to a store, but the moment didn’t seem to come, which made you suspect that there was really no such reason and it was just an excuse. You were curious as to what he might be looking for by doing that and you let your mind wander to possible answers, from when he was looking for advice he didn't yet know how to ask to when he just needed some fresh air and jumped at the chance, without you being involved in any way.

Kaz, for his part, was entering a crisis. He wanted to talk to you and have a nice time but he didn't know how to do it. He had thought that, once you were alone, the words would sprout by themselves and then you would continue the conversation, however, he had limited himself to watching you feel the fruits to decide which was ripe and which was not.

“Do you think she really likes that boy?”

“I don't know” Inej had told him “But I don't think that's the case either” she continued and her friend nodded her head “I think what she likes about him is that she listens to her and keeps her company; he is attentive to her. You could start there."

"Are you hungry?"

"A little, nothing that will kill me"

"Let's have breakfast" he murmured. Did it sound like an order? Yes, but he hoped to get a little better with practice.

"Only if you pay" you answered with a mischievous smile.

He led you to a small establishment you'd never been to, which he probably chose because he was all alone, and you sat at one of the little tables with worn cushioned chairs, facing each other. The question you wanted to ask him was on the tip of your tongue, but you were still working up the courage to gesticulate it.

Kaz ordered some eggs and bacon and since you were craving something sweet you ordered some fried dough stuffed with currants, on the recommendation of your companion, and both of you ordered the second coffee of the day.

"And what is?"

"What is what?"

“The deal” you exclaimed, as if it were obvious, but he didn't seem to understand “I suppose if we came here alone it's so you can ask me to make a deal. Steal, spy on someone right?"

He was stunned for a moment. Didn't you notice the effort he was making? Was that your idea of his actions? Honestly he couldn't blame you, because, probably, in other circumstances that would have been the case to isolate himself from the others in the group. But not now.

"There's nothing" he replied, but you narrowed your eyes to let him know that you didn't believe him "No tricks, I promise"

"So does that mean I'm the boss's favorite?" you asked with mock enthusiasm, deciding to play with his patience a bit.

"Shut up or you're going to lose your privileges," he countered. It felt good to tease you, have a little fun for a change.

You were sitting there until the mass of people that gathered at noon allowed it and then you returned to The Slat with your hands loaded with bags that at some point in the day you would place in the cupboard, not wanting to do it immediately so as not to spoil the atmosphere of peace between you and Kaz, who hadn't left you yet.

“Anything in particular you want for lunch?” you asked, moving closer to him. It was just the two of you in the kitchen and the rest of the place was relatively quiet. "You know, to offer you privileges to threaten you with later."

He almost laughed, but the suppressed smile you saw on him was enough to make you want to see more. You and Kaz were friends (or so you hoped, at least) but there weren't many memories between you like that, almost all of them were related to work or at the club or with one of you saving the other's ass. You had only once helped him heal a wound, just because he couldn't reach that section of his back and then he justified himself by asking for your help by saying that it had been partly your fault, which was totally false but that you weren't going to argue with him if that made him feel less embarrassed.

It felt different, like something more relaxed, soft… more domestic. You had just returned from shopping together, you had eaten an exquisite breakfast that he paid for and now you were asking him what he wanted you to prepare for him to eat… were you a couple of criminals or a newly married couple? 

The thought of a marriage with Kaz warmed your cheeks and you wanted to laugh at how absurd that would be.

"Whatever you want, anyway, my stomach already has enough defenses against indigestion" upon hearing this you barely pushed his arm, but as soon as you did, your eyes widened as you remembered who you were talking to, although to your surprise he didn’t complain.

"I'll make pea soup," you informed. You knew it was one of his favorites because of the second course he always served himself when he thought no one else was looking. You did, you looked at Kaz Brekker all the time.

He just hummed in the affirmative and left without another word.

During the course of the morning you did more activities, but you couldn't stop thinking about him and the walk they had taken together. Suddenly you would surprise yourself remembering his expressions at your bad jokes and smiling like a fool when you thought about how beautiful his eyes looked with the brightness of that morning.

Kaz ever had a partner? Did he like someone? Was he even interested in those things? You didn't know, but it wasn't a crime to have some admiration for him either, right? Jeez, he'd only been a little nice to you, why were you so excited about that?

You had never thought about whether you had feelings for him, beyond the initial working relationship that had now become a kind of family bond, although now you were reflecting on it.

And later, when his expression brightened from the plate of food you served him, you felt that it might not be such a wrong idea.

I like your smile.

It was the only note that had been left with the flowers, which you had been receiving for quite some time. Always without fail, always on the nightstand in your room.

Although you were worried about who this "secret admirer" might be, your curiosity was greater and you had been careful not to mention anything to your friends. Well, it was really just the boys, because Inej and Nina knew a lot about things, since the jobs to steal were scarce lately, you guys had more time to do anything else. 

Kaz trusted any of you so he let you roam the Crow club as you please, but also to check that things were in order: no scammers, control fights, check that the girls weren't harassed by the clients, things like that.

That night the club was short of a barista, so you and Wylan had split the responsibility for it by taking turns meeting the demand.

He was more skilled than you at making cocktails, perhaps due to his chemical mixing skills, but still the boy was patient with you and he only laughed when you messed up.

"I prefer this to be like poor Jes” you muttered amused, because from where you could see the boy sitting next to the door playing with one of his guns, obviously annoyed because Kaz had ordered him to stay away from the gaming tables. You thought that Wylan also had something to do with it, because they both hated that it fueled their gambling problem "But I need to distract myself a bit, will you be okay by yourself?" you asked. You knew he would be fine so you walked out of the bar without much guilt.

You were taking a walk among the tables when you felt someone grab your arm and you turned defensively. It was Lior, who you had already served too many drinks for a person of his size and now he was suffering the consequences. After serving perhaps the fifth in a row you got a little worried, but you didn't want to intervene because you thought it was none of your business. As long as he paid them, you had no objection.

"Y/N," he said, drawing out his tongue. Several of the Dregs were standing around him, apparently also drinking some beer, and were watching you curiously. "Sit with us," he ordered, patting an unoccupied chair next to him.

You didn't want to be rude and tried to say you were working now, but he was insistent until you agreed to sit down for a few minutes. The other men weren't chatting with you, probably as a matter of avoiding trouble with the boss, but Lior was particularly eloquent. As an effect of alcohol, he didn’t measure distances and sometimes he would spill some beer near you or invade your personal space to talk to you. You let it go because you didn't want to cause a conflict and, to a certain extent, it was tolerable.

But after a while, his behavior became more annoying. He was holding your hand and even tried to stroke your leg, but what made you jump back was when he leaned in for a kiss. Luckily you had been faster.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" you asked flustered, drawing the attention of the others at the table.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't want to" he replied. His body leaned towards you again and you moved further away, which made him annoyed "I've seen how you look at me"

"Sorry, what?"

"You want me," he stated. You were suddenly startled by the confidence with which he was saying that and how deep his voice sounded, like that of a wild animal. And, from his perception, you played the role of the prey.

"That’s not true, fuck you," you spat, getting up from your chair, but you were stopped by his strong grip on your forearm.

"Come on, Y/N. You like me and I like you, stop making yourself difficult"

"I told you no" you exclaimed with a trembling voice. The problem wasn't whether or not you could face the boy, but that he had caught you off guard. Although it was true that you liked him a little, you weren't going to allow him to want to kiss you just like that, to say the least… because judging from his insistence, you doubted that a kiss was all he wanted.

You almost screamed as he pulled you towards him and this caught the attention of several people around you, but before you could do anything an object came between you and threw Lior back into his chair in one movement.

It was a cane.

It was clear that by this point several tables had already stopped their games to pay attention to the menacing expression of the bastard with the barrel hovering over a drunken kid imprisoned in his chair.

"No means no" Kaz said slowly and quite close to the challenging face of the opponent. It was almost like he had been watching you the whole time, waiting for the perfect moment to intervene, or maybe he just had a sixth sense that would alert him when one of his crows was in trouble.

He thought that this would be enough to scare the boy and withdrew the cane from his chest, intending to turn around to check on your well-being, but he did not count on the fact that Lior's drunken state also gave him the courage to dare to jump in to hit him. The black-haired man's instinct made him turn around just in time to stop the drunk and throw him face-first against the table, holding his folded hand against his back.

If there was anyone left who hadn't noticed the discussion that was enough for them to notice, including Wylan, Jesper, and Matthias who had risen from their places to intervene if necessary. But it probably wouldn't. Kaz was furious.

You saw him whisper in the boy's ear and you knew it was a threat from the expression on his face, in addition to the groan of pain that the youngest emanated when Kaz mercilessly pulled his arm.

He remained in that position for a moment, completely blinded by anger, enjoying the cries of pain the shu boy was making.

"Get him out of here" Kaz ordered The Dregs, who had been watching everything in silence. You also didn't get to hear what he said to one of them, but the chances of Lior waking up the next day in pain from a beating were pretty high.

As you backed away you collided with a huge body and calmed down to see that it was Matthias, asking if you were okay. It didn't take long for all the men of the team to gather around you to ask what had happened, but you were still a little stunned to answer coherently.

Even so, you looked for Kaz's gaze just to realize him and he didn't look angry, but worried and his eyes were in charge of communicating everything that his mouth didn't. Somehow you quietly reassured him too, but he couldn't bear to see the glitter that threatened to turn to tears.

"Thank you" you managed to whisper, still a little nervous.

“Take the night off,” the black-haired man murmured, again sounding more like an order than a suggestion. “Walk her to The Slat, Jesper. Matthias, stay at the door”

The three of them returned to their respective posts and for a moment you thought that Kaz was also going to accompany you, but when you looked back he was already rushing with a firm step towards the door where the rest of his men had left.

Once you were in your room, and Jesper made sure for the thousandth time that you were okay, the feeling of discomfort eased considerably, but you noticed the bruise already beginning to form on your forearm from the man's grip.

What had happened to him? He had always been kind to you and respectful... you didn't even think that he would behave like that with you. You were disgusted and even scared by how quickly things had happened, but you were infinitely grateful that Kaz had come like a guardian angel to help you. You probably could have handled that on your own, however, the shock of receiving that kind of treatment from a person you were beginning to trust and even care for was what put you at a disadvantage.

You struggled a lot to fall asleep, because a part of you felt very hurt and sad to think that you didn’t deserve to have sincere love, but one where they only wanted you for physical matters.

Also, the flowers didn't arrive that morning.

When you finally got out of bed you were having trouble concentrating on anything and Nina had to take care of breakfast because you were too sensitive to do anything. This didn’t go unnoticed and everyone insisted that you rest a little more, but when Kaz arrived and realized the situation he didn’t wait to take action on the matter.

“We’re going out,” he said, when he finally intercepted you alone in the kitchen area, even though you weren't in much of a mood at all.

"A job?"

"A walk" he corrected you. You looked confused but didn't say anything and when it was time to leave The Slat you realized that Kaz wasn't talking about hanging out in a group, but just the two of you.

You didn't know where he was taking you, yet the road was as silent as usual. He watched you out of the corner of his eye just to see if your features changed in any way with the landscape, the aromas, or the morning breeze, but he felt a little disappointed when he noticed that your expression was still serious and even a little sad.

He wished he had taken more time with Lior last night.

"He won't bother you again" when he remembered that, he felt the need to let you know that now you could rest easy, and that you know that he himself had taken care of dealing with the matter.

"I don't doubt it," you said, letting out a bitter laugh. You knew what Kaz was capable of when he was angry. "It's just... I feel silly."

"Did you love him?" the man asked. You had already arrived at the place where he wanted to take you in the first place: it was a small meadow, with a lonely bench and too much life to be in the sad and gloomy Ketterdam. It was like finding a little piece of heaven on earth.

“Love him? By God, no, of course not. It was nice to be with him, but… talking about love is too strong. He was just an idiot”

"I'm sorry this has happened" he exclaimed, a little calmer after hearing your negative words about the other man, and at the same time the fact that you were alone gave him a little more confidence to say what he was thinking without being judged, trying to make you realize that he really cared about you.

"It's okay" you smiled to reassure him. He was going to say something else when a purple stain caught his attention under the sleeve of your dress that you had already risked up to the biceps. The night before he didn't notice that the boy had hurt you when he struggled and at that moment his blood boiled with anger "It's nice"

"What?"

"The place," you said, looking everywhere; the slightly gray sky, the birds flying around, the flowers growing next to your feet, and Kaz right in front of you. All of that made up the beauty you were talking about. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I thought maybe you needed to calm down a bit"

"Then you're a good friend," you said softly. Kaz couldn't remember anyone using that term with as much fondness filtered into their voices as you just did.

Friends. You were friends, you loved him at least a little.

"I hope so. I don't have much practice” he confessed and you smiled tenderly. Although you wanted to keep seeing Kaz, something in you forced you to look at the floor, as if there was something there calling you.

The flowers… were those flowers. You could recognize them after receiving them for days and keeping them fresh in the vase: there were the yellow ones and the lilac ones, both with small petals and a brown center.

You paused for a moment to make sure you weren't misreading or confusing things, but when you knelt down to pick up a cluster you knew for a fact that your theory was correct.

"What a curious thing"

"The flowers?" he asked, trying to sound as calm as possible. Even though you couldn't see his face, you somehow knew he was frowning.

“I've been getting exactly these kinds of flowers every weekday for a while now,” you said, getting up and showing Kaz the plants. “The stranger places them on my nightstand before I wake up, every time, without fail. Except for today"

"Maybe I wanted you to come to see them in person"

You froze in place, not expecting such a quick confession from him, and he looked at your face for a reaction. You were still holding the cluster in your hand and you unconsciously squeezed it hard.

In a panic you tried to find another interpretation of his words that didn’t imply the fact that he was the author of those signs of love, but you couldn’t find it. And from the man's slightly embarrassed face, you assumed that was true.

But the worst thing about it was the existence of the note that had kept you tossing and turning the day you received it. I like your smile. Kaz had written that too?

"So... it was you"

"Who did you have in mind?" he asked, a bit defensive, and you smiled, shaking your head.

“No one, I didn’t imagine who it could be. Honestly, at first, it scared me to think that someone was stalking me” you said sincerely. You looked at the bouquet of flowers again and noticed that some were withered, thinking that Kaz probably always chose the prettiest ones to take with you. You fell silent, not of your choice, but because he wasn't saying anything, and then you closed the distance between you by taking a small step forward, still respecting his personal space but enough to make the conversation intimate. “Why did you do that?”

Words were never Kaz's strong suit and he felt his throat tighten as he tried to answer you. What could I tell you about that? Did he himself have a coherent reason for doing that?

He thought you were going to get mad at his silence, but you smiled tenderly because, although he didn't realize it, once again his eyes had been in charge of telling you everything he was keeping quiet about.

"I like them a lot" you spoke again. If he wasn't ready to tell you, you weren't going to push him "I put them in a vase every day and when they're withered I put them in a box" you confessed. Fearing rejection, you lowered your hand to his, took it for a moment to place it higher, and then placed your own flowers in his hand. He held them tremblingly "Calm down, I'm not going to tell anyone"

"Tell them what?"

"I'm the boss’s favorite" you joked and a knot formed in Kaz's stomach when he saw that your eyes dropped for a second to his lips and you licked yours, perhaps unconsciously. You pulled away from him because you thought he might be uncomfortable with the closeness and instead, you left him wanting to have been in that position a little longer “Do you want us to sit here? I like to watch the birds”

He ignored you and a few minutes later you two were sitting next to each other, still saying nothing. Kaz was looking at you out of the corner of his eye and he thought he couldn't be prouder that your sad expression was gone.

And how was I to be? If you had just discovered that you had the sympathy of the man you admired most in all of Kerch.

"You were right," he spoke suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts about what it would feel like to be a bird and be able to fly.

"About what?"

"You're my favorite. As a person. You are my favorite person” he managed to say. His look from him was sweet and sincere "And I like to see you smile"

"You already told me," you said, trying to suppress a smile and feeling how the blood rose to your cheeks. It took you a moment to dare to say what you were thinking. “I appreciate you, Kaz. I mean it very seriously."

You two stayed there for what seemed like hours and just enjoyed each other's quiet company, the sound of the wind, and the sight of the place. You looked at the horizon and he watched you covertly, thinking about everything he would be able to do to keep you out of the dangers of the world and what he had not realized until the night before when your integrity was threatened. 

One of your knees collided with his and Kaz, instead of pulling away from him, moved his knee slightly to rub against yours.

That day a silent pact had been sealed between you. He loved you and so did you.

No more words were necessary. Just lots of flowers.

Dark Academia Book Stack

Pictured from top to bottom: The Picture of Dorian Gray, Never Let Me Go, The Secret History, These Violent Delights, The Wicker King, If We Were Villains, Vicious, Vengeful, Ninth House, Maurice, Catherine House, The Ravens, The Goldfinch

By The Moon; ONGOING

(pls ignore time stamps)

disclaimer: spelling and grammar mistakes are included. ♡

↳ warnings: swear words

namjoon x reader au; soulmate!au

In a world where two souls are bonded for life, your soul tattoo or mark appears once you lock eyes with your soulmate. Y/n, was born with hers. She’s not really curious as to why though, so she just lets it be. She was too busy causing trouble and living her best life with her best friends anyways. It’s her last year of high school and she’s determined to to make the very best of it. No worries, no drama, just having fun. But what happens when she locks eyes with this nerdy looking kid who transferred at the start of senior year? She finds herself with a burning tattoo and bond she not even sure she’s ready for. Who was this kid? how does he know her friends? what’s in his past that he can’t seem to get over? and most importantly, what the fuck does the moon have to do with all of this?

prologue

1 - head game strong

2 - problems???

3 - R A V E N

4 - selfish

5 - 25 to life

6 - i would kill for you

7 - purple

8 - one step at a time

9 - reality check

10 - civil

11 - on my soulmate bond

12 - i’m struggling here fellas

13 - namjooning

14 - art

15 - missed you

16 - i’ve disappointed myself

17 - it’s the bunny smile

18 - shit show

19 - that’s rough buddy

20 - careful

21 - skank waffles

22 - i fucked up

23 - confused and stupid

24 - exquisite if you will

25 - i’ll kill her

26 - what if?

27 - food coma

28 - so did you

29 - ooop there it is

30 - for a long time

31 - baby

32 - i hope you stay

33 - hands of a goddess

34 - make me choose

35 - exhausted

36 - hook, line, and sinker

37 - don’t act

38 - that’s what i thought

39 - now why tf

40 - i lost

41 - void

42 - her over me

43 - i don’t care

44 - i love her

45 - thank FUCK

46 - moon souls

47 - whether you love him

48 - i’m an idiot

49 - kookie wookie

50 - you think it’s fun?

51 - the project part 1

52 - the project part 2

53 - toe licker

54 - hell yeah he is

55 - By The Moon, The end.

epilogue

touching din | din djarin

Summary: The three times that Din bends his own rules and engages in physical touch. 

his primary love languages are acts of service and physical touch. i will die on this hill. i started this one just to indulge in the thoughts of touching his lovely face. it’s been in the works for a while and although i know it’s far from perfect, i’m glad that it finally gets to see the light of day! warnings: bad language, potential incoherence? idk i’m very tired but i hope you like it tags: plenty of fluff, plenty of indulgent, sfw touching, and then a good handful of angst. rollercoaster central. this takes place over a period of time, so part of it comes after finding out grogu’s name, which is why he’s referred to as many things! word count: 4650 written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

The travelling between planets would’ve been excruciating if not for your life partner and your adoptive child. The three of you made rather an unorthodox family. A runaway from Corellia, a Mandalorian and a… a sweet ball of green. An unorthodox family, indeed, but loving.

The Child chirped and bubbled away on your lap, apparently having a conversation with you while you sat in the pilot seat. You listened attentively, made agreeing noises at all the right moments, the lights of hyperspace travel filling the cabin with slow flashes. He really was so cute. You’d tell him it often, and you’d tell him that Din thought so too, even if he’d never say it. That much was obvious.

It was in the way he carried him, the way he protected him. The occasional pat to his head, or the quiet rub to his long ears as he slept. He wasn’t the type to openly say it, but it was clear, and that was what counted.

The Child reached out to the knob atop the gearstick, fingers wiggling.

“Baby, no. We have to always ask Din about the ship, hm?” You bounced him gently on your knee in an effort to ease the sad coos- but there was no need. A gloved hand reached around you, exposed fingertips closing on the ball. It was unscrewed and placed into the waiting green hands, content whirs and chatters soon filling the air.

The warmth in your chest grew into a smile as you dropped your head back, peering up at the helmeted man that stood just out of sight. “That’s a yes, then?”

A nod. “That’s a yes.”

Keep reading

En Pointe

Oscar Piastri x ballerina!reader

Masterlist

Summary: Oscar’s surprised to find ballet and racing are more similar than he’d first expected. He’s even more surprised at how hard he falls for you. (but really, maybe he shouldn’t be surprised about either.)

5.5k words

Warnings: some mentions of alcohol, references to the chaos of the 2024 brazil gp

we have all the “breaking in pointe shoes” videos on my tiktok feed to thank for this, plus the number of times cars pirouetted in Brazil. enjoy!

Oscar’s always thought his job took a lot of sacrifice and hard work. He moved away from home at a young age to chase it. He’s spent countless hours in the gym, training his muscles to cope with the g-forces of driving a race car. He’s bruised ribs, bruised knuckles, put himself through hell and back just to fight for podiums and wins. It’s demanding.

Then he met you.

He remembers the first time he ever saw you. He’d been in Monaco for a weekend, scouting out an apartment to move into and trying to get a feel for the city. Charles had found out, had given him a list of things to see and tickets to a couple experiences, including the Monte Carlo ballet on Saturday night. And Oscar had never been a big ballet guy, or a dance guy in general, but Charles had insisted if there was one thing he had to do it was this. So he went. Dressed up nice and sat in a theater seat and found himself entranced.

It had been everyone on stage, but especially you. The way you moved so effortlessly, with so much grace. The way you held yourself with such elegance and confidence. You’d taken his breath away, left him wide eyed with wonder like he had been years ago attending his first F1 race in Australia.

And then he’d met you, in the lobby. You were standing there, still in costume, smiling at children and thanking everyone for coming. It wasn’t like him to go up and say anything, but he’d just felt so drawn to you.

“I’m sure you get this a lot,” he’d said, as you smiled softly at him, a large bouquet in your arms, “but you’re incredible.”

He can still remember the sound of your laugh. The weight of your hand on his wrist as you thanked him. And then-

“Charles told me you were coming,” you’d said. He’d swallowed, nodded. “And that you might be moving here.”

He’d nodded again. “It’s a beautiful place.”

You’d nodded in agreement. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

He’d gone back to his hotel and dreamed of spinning ballerinas. The next morning, he woke up and contacted his management team, and asked them to lease the apartment he’d looked at the day before. The one with the view of the sea from the kitchen. He’d followed you on Instagram, too, and tried not to get his hopes up when he realized you were already following him.

And then it had been the F1 season, and a move to Monaco in the middle of it, and an afterparty after Charles’ first home win, full of champagne and happy smiles and a country so proud of him. And Charles, cutting through the crowd, eyes sparkling, with you in tow. Oscar had figured out the two of you were friends in the months since his ballet visit.

“Someone’s been looking for you,” Charles said in a singsongy tone.

It had all sort of bloomed from there. Now when Oscar is back in Monaco, he spends half his time in a dance studio, surrounded by mirrors and classical music and you. He still loves watching you, just like he did that very first night. He gets to see a side of you that most of the people in the audience never will- undone. In a plain leotard, sometimes a skirt, sometimes thick warmup pants that make him giggle, trying and trying over and over again to get something right. He sees the bruises and hears about the strained muscles and does what he can to help you with them. He loans you hoodies to wear during warm ups at rehearsals, and he cooks you meals to make sure you’re getting enough fuel for all the work you put yourself through. And he loves every second of it.

In return, you spend your breaks from rehearsals watching free practices and qualis and sometimes even races. He’s gotten pictures sent to him of you stretching with his onboard camera view on your tablet in front of you. The distance makes his heart ache sometimes, but when he gets to spend time with you it’s like nothing has changed. His favorite nights in Monaco are the ones with you perched on his kitchen counter, the harbor in the background.

The summer’s nearly over when he realizes he’s falling in love.

He can’t help it. You’re kind and beautiful and funny. He’s not sure anyone would blame him. It’s just… You’re the first friend he’s made here, the first connection to this new city. He doesn’t want to lose you. And he’s gone so often, he thinks it might make things so much worse. To tell you he loves you and then have to leave every weekend, to never be around. He hates the thought of It. Besides, he reminds himself, you’re a ballerina. Far too talented for someone like him.

So he shoves the feelings down, and tries his best to be a good friend and never let on that he feels anything more.

…..

You’re there for the race in Hungary- Hungary, of all places. You’re there to sympathize about his broken ribs and tease him about how exactly he broke them. You’re technically there with Charles, with Ferrari, but nobody seems to notice when you sneak into McLaren’s garage with a paddock pass Oscar managed to get for you. You look good in papaya, he thinks, though you’ve told him you think quite the opposite. He gets it. You’re used to pastels and soft fabrics. The McLaren sweatshirt you’re wearing is bold and bright. But it’s got Oscar’s number across the back, and that makes him smile more than anything else.

The race weekend is busy, as always. He doesn’t see you much until after the race, until you’re standing there outside the McLaren motorhome. He’s still in his race suit, soaked in sweat and champagne and god knows what else. He’s bone tired, his ribs hurt, and he’s starving. But you’re standing there, and it all just melts away. He wonders if telling you you’re his lucky charm would be terribly cliche.

“Hi, race winner,” you say, reaching out to squeeze his upper arm. “Feel different?”

He snorts. “Nah. Not really.”

You frown slightly, eyeing his face like you’re sizing him up. “Hm. You don’t look different, either.”

“No?” He asks, raising a brow at you, a smirk threatening to slip across his lips.

You shake your head. “Guess it’s because you’ve always been a winner in my book.”

He feels his cheeks go red, and then he bursts into laughter. “That’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard you say,” he says, between giggles.

You lean into him, your head bumping against his shoulder. “I meant it!”

The thing is, he thinks you really did. He holds those words in his heart while he pulls you in close for a hug, despite your complaining about the state of him, the champagne and sweat. He holds them even closer, later, while he eats McDonald’s and avoids looking at social media comments about gifted wins by getting beaten to a pulp in Monopoly by Alex. He ices his ribs on the plane and falls asleep still thinking about you.

…..

Summer break rolls around, and he gets three weeks to spend with you. Your rehearsals are starting to ramp up for the season, and he can tell it’s weighing on you. He thinks you understand him in a way nobody else can- the love and hate for your sport. The exhaustion mixed with the urge to do it all again the next day.

He sits on the couch with you, your head against his shoulder, ice packs resting on your ankles where they’re propped up on his coffee table. There’s a movie playing on the TV, one of your favorites, one you’d been appalled he’d never seen before. You’re in one of his hoodies, soft and warm and cozy.

“Casting starts next week,” you mention, offhand.

He nods. “Yeah. I saw the Instagram post.”

He doesn’t know how to tell you he checks your dance company’s page multiple times a day. He worries it would make him seem crazy. It’s just that when he’s away, he wants every glimpse of you he can get, even if it’s in the background of a rehearsal video. And it’s become such a habit that he does it even on the days where he gets to see you in person.

He clears his throat. “Are you anxious about it?”

You hum, rubbing your hand against the fabric of your sweatpants. “A bit, I think. I want a good part, you know? And I worry I haven’t been working hard enough.”

Oscar tilts his head to look at you.. “You work harder than anyone I’ve ever met, you know.”

He means it. And he’s met people from all walks of life- fellow drivers, Moto GP riders, tennis players, engineers, basketball players, and everyone in between. But he’s never seen someone as dedicated as you. Never seen someone pull themselves apart at the seams the way you do, just to get a dance perfect. The way you criticize yourself makes him sad, sometimes. So he keeps telling you how good you are and hopes that someday it rings true for you, too.

“But maybe it’s not enough,” you tell him.

He shakes his head. “All you can give is your best. There’s nothing more you can do.”

You smile, nod, and settle in just a little closer. And he has this overwhelming urge to scoop you up, to press his lips to your forehead and tell you just how truly wonderful he thinks you are, how amazed he is. He wants to hold your face in his hands and kiss you, but he can’t.

When he says goodnight and goodbye later, it’s for a while- he’s headed off Zaandvoort. He doesn’t want to go. He knows once he gets there he’ll be excited again, ready to go, raring to be behind the wheel. But he asks you to text him when you’re home safely and finds himself wishing you were just staying at his place instead.

…..

You call him while he’s at the hotel in the Netherlands. He picks up immediately, even though he’s eating dinner with Lando. He steps outside onto the balcony so he can listen to you. The city glitters in front of him, and he thinks of the boats in the harbor in Monaco, the way they light up the water.

“Hi,” he answers, heart skipping a beat in his chest.

“Hi,” you echo back. There’s a certain quality to your voice, a thickness, like you’ve been crying. “They posted the cast list. I haven’t opened it.”

His heart rate kicks up a notch. He knows what this means to you, how important it all is, how much you’ve been hoping for something good. How hard you’ve been working. He sits down in the patio chair on the balcony.

“Okay, that’s-“ he cuts himself off. “Whatever you got, you did your best, right? And that’s all that matters.”

You sniffle, and he can hear you tapping away at your keyboard in the background. “I just. Do you think you could stay on the line while i open the email?”

The feeling he gets is overwhelming. The fact that you trust him with this, that you want him here, as much as he can be. He covers his soft smile with his hand.

“Yeah, of course,” he says, pouring all his sincerity into it. “Whatever you need.”

“Okay. Okay,” you say, like you’re trying to hype yourself up. “Okay, opening it now.”

He holds his breath the whole time he’s waiting. He thinks you might be, too. And then there’s a soft sigh on the other end, and a choked off gasp. And then-

“Oh my god,” you say, teary and breathless. “I got the lead.”

Oscar’s felt pretty happy quite a few times this year. He remembers podiums and his win in Hungary and all the other successes in between. But the way his heart fills with joy in that moment is almost overwhelming. Because he knows how much it means to you, and how much you mean to him. His words almost get caught in his chest.

“You deserve it,” he says, hoping you can’t hear how choked up he is. “You’ve worked so hard.”

“Gonna have to work harder now,” you say. But he can hear the smile in your voice.

He sends you flowers to congratulate you the next morning. You send him a picture with them in your arms, a smile on your face. He wants to make it his lockscreen, but he thinks he’d get far too many questions if he did. Too much of a risk of someone seeing. But it means the world to him either way.

…..

When he swings by your apartment on a random day where he’s back in Monaco, he spots a new picture frame by the door. Inside, there’s a bunch of pressed flowers- daisies and forget me nots and a couple others he can’t name. But he recognizes them from the photo the florist sent when he got the bouquet sent to you.

You catch him looking, hands in his pockets. When you turn to him, you smile sheepishly.

“They meant a lot to me,” you tell him.

His heart thuds in his chest. “I’m glad.”

…..

He wins in Baku, barely holding off Charles. It’s a tough, well earned victory. It’s champagne and confetti on the podium, and Charles being impressed with the move he pulled, and so many hugs and celebratory slaps on his back. It’s the smile on his mother’s face after he gets out of the car, the joy he feels at how happy she is, too.

And yet, when he gets back to his hotel, he finds himself wishing you’d been there.

It’s like he thinks about you and summons you- his phone starts ringing where it’s laying on his chest. He picks up when he sees your contact, his heart speeding up again. There’s music playing in the background when he says hello, your laughter bubbling up over it. It’s the Australian national anthem, he realizes. He starts to laugh, too.

“I’m choreographing a dance to it,” you say decisively, with a smirk on your lips. “My new favorite song.”

“Shouldn’t you be cheering for Charles?” He asks.

“Yes,” you say, very seriously. “Don’t tell him. I’ll be excommunicated from Monaco.”

He laughs, again. He feels lighter, like the stress of the race had finally faded. It’s amazing, how you do that.

“I’m so proud of you,” you tell him, and his heart swells. “Nobody more deserving.”

He lays back on the bed and lets your voice wash over him. “Thank you. It was a tough one.”

“It was fun to watch,” you tell him. “I had everyone else watching with me. I’ve converted half of them into Piastri fans.”

“Half the Monte Carlo ballet?” He teases. “That sounds like treason.“

“Again. Don’t tell Charles.”

“Thank you,” he says. “For watching.”

He means it about more than that, too. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for calling. Thank you for being you. He thinks, again, about telling you how he really feels. That after he got out of his car, he’d imagined finding you in the crowd and pulling you in for a celebratory kiss. But you’re in Monaco, doing what you love, and you’re not his girlfriend, anyway. He has to keep reminding himself.

“You should get some sleep,” you tell him.

He’s not sure what time it is in Monaco, but he laughs. “So should you.”

He talks to you for another hour, at least, and then falls asleep with the phone pressed to his ear. When he wakes up in the morning, he wonders if there’s any way out of these feelings. It sort of feels like something he’ll never get over.

…..

There are a variety of reasons Oscar is happy when the three week fall break finally comes, but more time with you is definitely one of them. You’re even busier with rehearsals than you were before, but you always find time for him.

You sit on the floor of his apartment, one leg stretched out over a bag of ice on your calf. You’re breaking in a new pair of pointe shoes- the process always entertains him. To watch you break something down and put it back together again with stitches and glue and tape. You talk him through each step like he’ll understand what you mean when you use your specific ballet terms.

He jokes about breaking in his race shoes, too, and adding elastic and ribbons to them. You laugh, and then you make him help cut the pieces of ribbon- he smiles at the silky glide of the fabric through his fingers, and tries not to wonder if your skin would be soft under his touch like this, too.

Over dinner at the kitchen counter, you tell him about rehearsals, about the parts you just can’t quite grasp and the ones you’ve gotten down pat.

“I think I’ll be okay by opening night,” you tell him. Then a smile slips across your face, your eyes wide and lit up. “Oh, speaking of- d’you want a ticket? I can get you a seat close to Charles.”

He lights up. “When is it again?”

You tell him the date as he pulls his phone out to check his schedule. If Charles can make it, he assumes he can, too, but it’s better to check just in case. He scrolls on his McLaren calendar and feels his heart plummet into his stomach.

“Fuck,” he mutters.

You tilt your head and frown. “What’s wrong?”

“I… I won’t be back.”

You frown deeper. “It’s a two week break.”

He swallows guiltily and nods. “They want us to stay to film some content. And then I have meetings at the MTC. And- I’m so sorry. I’d be there if I could, but we’re not flying back this way until after, and-“

You place your hand over his. There’s a soft smile on your lips that doesn’t match the sadness in your eyes. “It’s okay, Osc.”

His heart twists. “I’ll come the first chance I get, yeah?”

He knows it’s not the same. He’s heard you talk about opening night, about the electrifying feeling it gives you. He’d promised months ago that he’d come. And sure, it’s not his fault, but… he feels guilty all the same.

“Yeah,” you say. The happy tone of your voice feels forced. “I’ll be better at it by then, anyways.”

You change the subject. Oscar convinces you to stay over when it gets late and you’re still there. Neither of you really want to leave. He insists on sleeping on the couch so you can sleep in the bed- you’re the one who has class and rehearsal the next day, after all. He wakes up to a crick in his neck and the sound of you humming in the kitchen. When he rubs the sleep from his eyes and joins you, he’s happy to find you’ve made breakfast for both of you.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he says, quietly.

“Wanted to,” you say, with a shrug and a smile.

He drives you to the studio, and you invite him in to say hi and hang out for a bit. It’s early, still and people are trickling in, taking time to do individual warm ups before class. You test out your new pointe shoes, and he smiles when he sees the look on your face- they’re perfect, you tell him.

You give him a hug before class starts, when he has to leave. He’s headed home to pack, and then it’s off to Austin on a flight that afternoon. You say what you always say to him before a race weekend.

“Good luck, have fun, be safe, and be nice to Charles,” you say, your cheek pressed to his shoulder.

“But not too nice,” he echoes back.

You nod. He squeezes you tight, and lets himself have this for just one second. His face, pressed against the top of your head. Someone calls for class to start, and you lean up and give him the classic cheek kisses. Then you’re racing off to the studio.

He hopes you don’t catch the blush on his cheeks.

…..

In Austin, he unpacks a hoodie from his suitcase, pulls it over his head, and sighs when he realizes it smells like your perfume. He thinks you borrowed it while you were at his place, something to cuddle up on the couch in while you stretched your poor muscles. He shoves his hands in his pockets and finds a silky strip of ribbon waiting there. It must’ve been one of the scraps from when you’d had him help with your pointe shoes, one you had to trim because he’d cut them far too long. He smiles softly, and without really even thinking, he ties the ribbon around his wrist. A nice reminder of you to carry with him.

He has to remove it eventually, when he heads to the track, but then he shoves it in the pocket of his shorts, and leaves it looped up nicely in his driver room when he has to change for the race. He loops it back around his wrist for the flight to Mexico, and sees Lando eyeing it. Oscar stares back, as if daring him to say a word.

Charles sees it, though, and smirks, when they bump into him in the hotel lobby in Mexico City. “Pretty bracelet.”

Oscar pulls his sleeve over his hand and tries not to look sheepish. He knows his cheeks and ears are turning red. He’s not sure how he’ll explain this to you, if Charles tells you. What if you think it’s weird, or creepy, or-

“She called me yesterday,” Charles says. “She was wearing your hoodie.”

Suddenly, Oscar’s cheeks are turning red for a completely different reason, and he thinks maybe this time he’ll just let it happen.

He calls you from the hotel the next day, late in the afternoon. The time difference sucks, but you’re a night owl, anyways. You’ve got your phone propped up against the mirror in the dance studio, pushed far enough back that he can see you, and your swishy warm up pants he always teases you about, and- and it’s his hoodie you’re wearing, sleeves tucked over your hands, the hood pooling around your neck. He feels his ears go red again and hopes you can’t see in the dim lighting of his hotel room.

“You’re there late,” he comments.

In the background, the window behind you is inky blue. You sigh heavily, like the time is weighing you down. If he was there, he’d lift your shoulders back up himself. Try and take some of the weight off.

“There’s this one combination,” you say, rubbing your finger against the floor. “I just can’t quite get it.”

He hums. He knows the feeling, knows what it’s like to try and try again to hit all the apexes in a sequence of turns and feel like you’re never quite there.

“You need a break, though,” he reminds you. “Sleep and a fresh start would do you good.”

You twist your lips, though you nod in agreement. “I’ll go home soon. Promise.”

He ends up convincing you to walk home with him still on FaceTime- his way of making sure you do go home, and you make it safely. He likes to listen to your routine, anyways- the click of the lights turning on, the rattle of ice cubes in your glass, your soft footsteps on the creaky hardwood floors of your apartment. He can see in the way that your shoulders start to droop that you’re tired, so he lets you go, but not before he gets the same advice he always does.

“Good luck, have fun, be safe, and be nice to Charles,” you tell him.

He nods diligently. “But not too nice.”

…..

In Brazil, during the quali rain delay, Oscar gets cornered.

“You’re not going to opening night,” Charles says, standing with his arms crossed in the paddock.

Oscar ducks his head sheepishly, rocking back and forth on his feet. “I can’t. We don’t fly back until the day after.”

Charles frowns. “That is stupid.”

He’s not wrong. “Yeah. Not much I can do about it, mate. I’d be there if I could.” Oscar pauses. “Hold on. How’d you know I’m not going?”

Charles tilts his head. He’s studying Oscar. “She told me. She’s sad about it, you know.”

Charles is disappointed. Oscar’s got a lot of respect for the guy- he hates to disappoint him. He hates even more to think that he’s made you sad. He thinks of the pink ribbon that’s laying in his driver room, the way you’d laughed while you’d tried to teach him how to sew. He thinks of your costume fittings, the peeks of the fabric he got to see, how it’ll be far too long before he gets to watch you spin around on stage in them. How excited you’d looked at the idea of him being there for opening night. His chest aches.

“I do want to be there,” he tells Charles, hating the nearly whiny tone his voice takes on. “I just…”

“I know,” Charles says softly. “And she understands. But I thought you should know she really wants you there.”

Charles leaves, then, probably off to find Max or Pierre. Oscar’s left standing, wishing he could find a way to be in two places at once.

Formula One and ballet are oddly similar, in Oscar’s opinion. It’s all about balance and rhythm, about dancing on the knife’s edge. Nothing makes that more clear than a quali session in the rain. He pulls his boots on and pictures you, ribbon slipping through your fingers as you lace it around your calves. With each corner he takes on the track, he can see you leaping across the stage. He balances the wheel between his fingers and thinks of you, spinning on the very tips of your toes like it’s easy. There’s a strength, hidden under tights and tulle, that amazed him more than anything else. You make it look easy. He can’t always say the same for himself. He’s still getting the hang of the balance.

If he tells you that, you’ll tell him he’s crazy. That you’re safe on the stage while he careens around a track in a machine made of metal and carbon fiber and not much else. He remembers you complaining about a blister on your foot, and how he’d suggested padding and bandaids.

“Then I can’t feel the floor,” you’d told him.

He’d frowned, holding one of your shoes, tapping at the hard toe box at the end. “Can you feel the floor through all this?”

You’d smiled and nodded. “You’re telling me you can’t feel the track, even through all that?”

You’re right, he finds. He can feel it, on some tracks more than others. With this one, the thing he feels the most is the way it slips away from him. But he can feel it nonetheless. He tries to channel that into the race, but there’s far too much water in the way.

Sunday exhausts him. It’s enough to have to do quali and the race on the same day, let alone to have to be up so early to do so. He feels for the mechanics, of course, who are there even earlier. It’s not an ideal race- it’s more damage limitation, than anything, with the rain and the red flags and the penalty from his incident with Liam. He takes it on the chin as much as he can, but when they’re told they can head back to the hotel he’s quite relieved. He needs sleep, desperately.

Max invites him out to celebrate, but he politely declines. He runs into Charles leaving the track and ends up in a car with him. Charles makes him think of you, he always does.

“You going out with Max?” He asks.

Charles shakes his head and yawns. “Early flight home tomorrow,” he says. “So I can be there with plenty of time to make it to the ballet.”

At the mention of opening night, Oscar’s heart sinks. The exhaustion hits him even harder, and he slumps over in his seat, letting the sound of the rain on the car windows lull him.

…..

The stage lights are blindingly bright, but you manage to make it through the very first show. It’s not perfect- no performance ever really is- but it’s as close as it can be, really. It feels good, to have worked so hard to get there, to have worked even harder after getting the role, and to have it all pay off.

You don’t change out of your finale costume before you head out to the lobby. The kids who come of the shows always love to see the dresses and leotards and sparkly makeup. You greet them with smiles, despite your exhaustion, and do the same to your friends.

Your smile gets wider when you spot Charles, with some of his family in tow. You wave them over, trying to see everyone through the crowds. There’s someone next to him who you can’t quite make out, someone who Charles tugs along by their upper arm. Someone holding a giant bouquet, filled with daisies and forget-me-nots. Your heart skips a beat.

Charles is the one who rolls his eyes and shoves the bouquet towards you. You’re half laughing, half crying when you come face to face with Oscar. You pull him into a hug, one he returns with force, half crushing the flowers between the two of you. You don’t care. He means more than any bouquet ever could.

“You said you couldn’t make it!” You say, shock still rolling through you.

“They released us from some of our plans after the hell weekend in Brazil,” he says, the words melting into your skin where his lips are pressed to your temple. “So I hitched a ride.”

You grin at Charles over Oscar’s shoulder. He gives you a horrible wink in return, and mouths the word later before fading into the crowd.

“Oh my god, you must be so tired,” you say, leaning back to look at him.

He shrugs. “M’wide awake now. You were incredible.”

You laugh, one arm still looped around his neck. “You say that every time.”

“And I mean it, every time.”

His hand falls to your hip, fingers brushing against the poofy tulle. You swear you can feel the warmth of him, even through all the layers. Maybe it’s just radiating off of him, off his smile and the blush on his cheeks and the fact that he’s here at all.

When you speak next, he opens his mouth and says something at the same time. The two of you pause, then dissolve into giggles again.

“You first,” you say.

He hums. “You sure you don’t want to go first?”

“You flew all the way here, I think you get the honors.”

He nods, smiles, and swallows. “Okay. Um. Any chance you’re not busy after this?”

There’s the cast dinner, but it’s not mandatory. And besides, you think after all the talking you’ve done about Oscar for the past few months, they’ll understand.

“I’m free,” you tell him.

“Prefect,” he says. “Call me when you’re ready, and we’ll go out to dinner.”

“Just you and me?” you ask, hopefully.

He nods. “Just you and me.”

You nod, the grin already breaking across your lips. “Sounds like a date.”

He laughs, muffling the sound into your forehead. “It sure does. I’d like that. If you want it to be.”

“Yeah,” you tell him, smiling bigger than you think you have all night. “I’d like that a lot.”

…..

You fall asleep on his shoulder before the dessert Oscar ordered can make it to the table. He doesn’t complain, though. He just asks for it to go instead, and pays the bill between his own yawns. He wakes you gently when he’s ready to go, and laughs at your sheepish smile, at the apology you mumble out, batting sleepy lashes at him. He can’t blame you for being exhausted.

Your hair is undone, makeup off, but he’s never found you more beautiful. More elegant. He half carries you out to the car and offers to take you home, but you yawn and shake your head. Then you lean over and kiss him, right on the lips, your arm around his neck again. He cups your face in his hands and soaks it all in while he kisses you back. Lets himself melt into the moment.

“I’m taking all the time I can get with you,” you tell him, when you pull away, your lips still brushing against his cheek. “Take me to your place, Mr. Piastri.”

He likes the sound of that. And when he falls asleep with you tucked against his chest, the soft glow of the Monaco harbor in view out of his bedroom window over your shoulder, he finds he likes the reality of it even more.

…

a/n: can’t decide if i love this or hate it, but at least i wrote something!!! thanks for reading!

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @arian-directioner @racingheartsposts @sakuramxchii @mynamejeff5 @c-losur3 @casperlikej @the-navistar-carol @everyonesluvah @jsjcue @ggaslyp1 @si1ver06 @nicole01-23 @andruuu28 @coffeehurricanes

misunderstood hero with a heart of gold - mv1

summary: max verstappen has never been one to read books, but everything changes when he comes across a pretty booktuber who describes him better than anyone else did before

word count: 8.2k + social media posts

folkie radio: another one of my babies finally sees the light of day 🥹 this fic is really special and i was lowkey gatekeeping it but i feel ready to share it, plss take care of it <3 i hope you like it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

Max Verstappen was bored.

It was late and he was alone in his hotel room. He had a race the following day and he knew better than staying up late. His team was already on his ass for sim racing at ungodly hours of the night when he had a race, but nevertheless, he was bored and not sleepy yet.

He scrolled through his phone, not really paying attention to what popped up on his Instagram feed, Tiktok for you page or Twitter timeline.

After a few minutes, his finger landed on the YouTube app, one that he barely used if he was completely honest, but for some reason he never deleted it.

A bunch of videos showed up on his main page, most of them about F1, gaming, fitness or cats. He scrolled through the thumbnails absentmindedly until one title caught his eye: "Formula 1 Drivers as Romance Book Character Tropes."

Max had no idea how that video ended up in his suggestions page. He wasn't much of a reader—he had only read two books in his entire life, for crying out loud— but curiosity got the better of him. He clicked on the video.

The screen shifted to a bright and lively setup, where a young woman with vibrant energy and a contagious smile greeted her viewers. "Hey everyone! Welcome back to my channel. Today, we have a fun video where I'll be pairing Formula 1 drivers with romance book tropes!"

Max found himself smiling for some reason, he thought she was really engaging and funny — and really pretty—. He leaned back against his pillows, more intrigued by the second.

"As some of you might already know, books are not my only passion, I'm also a huge Formula 1 fan since I was a little kid thanks to my dad, so I thought it would be fun to do a little crossover of my two obsessions."

Max grinned again, finding himself oddly invested in this unexpected combination of romance literature and Formula 1. Or maybe just mesmerized by the pretty girl who was talking on his screen.

"Let's begin with Mercedes," she said, clapping her hands together, "Lewis Hamilton is definitely our 'Charming Prince Charming.' He's got the looks, the talent, and that air of royalty about him."

Max chuckled, thinking it was a fitting description for his rival.

"Now for George Russell," she continued, "I'm going with 'The Boy Next Door Who Grew Up Hot.' I mean, have you seen his glow-up?"

Max chuckled again, nodding in agreement. George had indeed transformed quite a bit since his Williams days.

"Moving on to Ferrari," she continued enthusiastically. Max wondered if that was her favorite team on the grid, "Charles Leclerc is our classic 'Childhood Best Friend You've Always Had a Crush On.' He's got that sweet, familiar charm, but with a spark that makes your heart race every time you see him."

Max raised an eyebrow, surprised by the change in description. He had to admit, it fit Charles quite well.

"And for Carlos Sainz," she paused dramatically, "he's either our 'Older Brother's Best Friend' or the 'Bad Guy Who's Mean to Everyone but His Sweetheart', just think about it, he's got that rugged exterior, but you just know he's a total sweetheart deep down."

Max laughed, realizing she had Carlos pegged perfectly. He watched with growing interest as she continued.

"Now, let's talk about McLaren," she said with a sparkle in her eye. "Lando Norris is our 'Adorkable Comedian Who Steals Your Heart.' He's funny, relatable, and has a way of making you fall for him before you even realize it," Max grinned at the description of his good friend, "And Oscar Piastri... he's 'The Shy Genius.' Quiet, reserved, but incredibly talented and intelligent. He might not be the loudest in the room, but he's someone you'd definitely want on your side."

Max nodded in agreement, thinking of how Oscar had impressed everyone since joining McLaren. She continued pairing each driver with a character trope, she described Daniel as the "Life of the Party with a Sensitive Soul," highlighting his infectious energy and hidden depths. Pierre was dubbed the "Resilient Underdog," emphasizing his ability to bounce back from setbacks. Yuki was described as the "Fiery Spitfire with a Soft Center" and Logan was labeled the "Rookie with Untapped Potential," suggesting a character arc of growth and discovery.

With each driver's description, Max's anticipation grew. He found himself eagerly awaiting his own characterization, both curious and slightly apprehensive about how the pretty girl with an obsession with books and Formula 1 would describe him.

When she finally got to Red Bull, he sat up a little straighter, his interest piqued.

"Now for Sergio Perez," she said, "he's our 'Loyal Wingman Who Deserves His Own Happy Ending.' Always there to support, but with a story of his own waiting to be told."

Max nodded, thinking it was a pretty accurate description of his teammate.

"And finally, saved the best for last," she said, her eyes twinkling, "we have Max Verstappen."

Max held his breath, oddly nervous about how this stranger would categorize him.

"Max is our 'Misunderstood Hero with a Heart of Gold,'" she said with a warm smile. "Often perceived as cold or distant, but actually deeply caring and protective of those close to him. He's the type who shows his love through actions rather than words."

Max felt his cheeks warm significantly. This description caught him completely off guard. It wasn't the usual 'aggressive driver' or 'arrogant champion' narrative he was used to hearing. Instead, it felt... true. Uncomfortably true. He wasn't sure how to feel about being seen so accurately by a stranger.

As the video ended after she said her goodbyes, Max found himself staring at his phone screen, replaying her words in his mind, his thumb hovering over the comment section. He had never left a comment on a YouTube video before, but something about this one compelled him to break that habit.

After a moment's hesitation, he tapped the comment box and began typing, Once he was done, he paused, reading over his words. It felt strange, almost vulnerable, to acknowledge her characterization of him. But there was also something liberating about it. He added a thumbs-up emoji at the end and hit 'Post' before he could second-guess himself.

As Max set his phone down and settled into bed, a small smile played on his lips. He had a important race the following day, but all he wanted to think and dream about was the pretty stranger who had somehow seen through his carefully crafted public persona.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

liked by username1, username2 and 10,725 others

f1gossip “I went to bed early last night. Just listened to the team’s orders, you know?”

Max Verstappen for media day today, however he left a comment on a YouTube video around 2:46 am 😭

view all comments

username1 HES SOOOOO

username2 the fact that he left a comment on a BOOKTUBER’S channel MAX VERSTAPPEN YOU DONT EVEN READ BOOKS 😭

username3 he looks so pretty tho

username4 MAX WE ALL SAW YOU

username5 max was actually checking which romance trope is him according to booktubers

username6 HES SO RANDOM

username7 max’s search history: lestappen as fictional couples

liked by username1, username2 and 102,438 others

ynreadsbooks in honor of max verstappen x3 world champion commenting on my latest video (which is insane to say out loud wtf) should i do another f1 themed video?? any suggestions?

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username1 YES QUEEN

username2 that max comment was so random but so real

username3 max verstappen, the man who has read two books in 27 years watching booktubers was not on my bingo card

username4 @/maxverstappen1 you favorite youtuber will do another video about you

username5 BOOKS WITH RACING THEMES

username6 books inspired by f1 circuits would be fun

username7 @/maxverstappen drop a suggestion

maxverstappen1 started following ynreadsbooks

liked by username1, username2 and 15,836 others

f1gossip Max Verstappen was seen outside of a bookshop in Monaco today !

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username1 BABYYYY

username2 max ??? bookshop ????

username3 WHAT SHIFTED

username4 he thought it was jimmyz

username5 HEELPP what is he doing there

username6 hello i work there. he arrived with a list of books in hand that he wanted, he bought around 15 action and fantasy books

↳ username1 FOR REAL???

↳ username2 max said book girl summer

↳ username3 this is so random

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If someone had told Max that this year he would spend his summer break reading, he would've laughed at their faces. Yet here he was, lounging by the pool in his Monaco house, a book in his hands and a smile on his face.

As he turned the page of "The Martian," the latest sci-fi recommendation from YN, Max couldn't help but reflect on how different this summer break was.

Usually, his days off were filled with lavish yacht parties, exclusive clubs, or intense training sessions and hours of sim racing to stay sharp for the second half of the season. But now, he found himself eagerly devouring books and spending hours chatting with YN about plots, characters, and everything in between.

As the weeks passed, Max found himself growing increasingly close to YN, despite never having met her in person. Their text conversations flowed effortlessly, ranging from in-depth discussions about the books they were reading to playful banter about racing and life in general.

Max was surprised by how much he enjoyed her company, even in this digital form. Her wit, intelligence, and genuine interest in his thoughts beyond his racing persona were refreshing. He found himself sharing things he rarely discussed with others, and looking forward to her messages became a highlight of his day.

He also thought she was absolutely gorgeous.

As if on cue, his phone buzzed with a new message from her.

Max chuckled, about to reply when he heard the doorbell. He remembered Lando and Daniel were coming over for dinner. As he got up to let them in, he quickly typed a response, telling her that he would talk to her later.

"Well, well, well," Daniel's voice boomed as Max opened the door. "If it isn't the newly minted bookworm of Formula 1!"

Lando peered around Daniel's shoulder, "I half expected to find you wearing glasses and a sweater vest, mate."

"Very funny, guys. Come in," Max rolled his eyes as he stepped away from the door.

Ever since his friends noticed his brand new habit, they took it upon themselves to tease him whenever they could. As they made their way to the backyard, Daniel spotted the book on the lounger.

"The Martian?" he read, picking it up. "Isn't this a bit advanced for your reading level, Maxy?"

"Ha ha," Max deadpanned, snatching the book back. "It's actually really good. It's about this astronaut who gets stranded on Mars and has to use science and engineering to survive-"

"Whoa, whoa," Lando interrupted, holding up his hands. "Who are you and what have you done with Max Verstappen?"

Daniel draped an arm around Max's shoulders. "I think our boy here is trying to impress a certain bookish YouTuber. What was her name again? YN?"

Max felt his cheeks warm. "It's not like that. We just... talk about books and stuff."

"And stuff," Daniel repeated, wiggling his eyebrows. "Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

Max rolled his eyes, trying to brush off their teasing. "Seriously, it's not like that. We just have a lot in common."

Daniel and Lando exchanged knowing glances before bursting into laughter.

"Sure, mate," Daniel said, patting Max on the back. "Whatever you say."

They settled by the pool, beers in hand, and started chatting about the upcoming races and their plans for the rest of the summer. Despite the playful ribbing, Max found himself genuinely enjoying their company. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his friends.

As the evening wore on, the conversation eventually circled back to Max's books and his little friend on his phone.

"So, Max," Lando started, a mischievous glint in his eye, "have you color-coded your bookshelf yet? Or are you more of a chronological order kind of guy?"

"Nah, mate. I bet he organizes them by how many times YN has mentioned them," Daniel chimed in, "Top shelf is probably her favorites, right Maxy?"

Max felt his cheeks flush, but he couldn't help grinning. "You two are impossible."

"When are you finally going to meet her in person anyway?" Lando said, sipping from his beer.

Max shrugged nonchalantly, trying to hide the slight flutter in his chest. "I don't know. That's not something I've really thought about,"

He lied. In truth, the thought of meeting YN had crossed his mind countless times. The idea of finally seeing the girl who had captivated him with her intelligence, humor, and beauty made his heart race. He'd catch himself daydreaming about her smile, wondering if it was as warm and infectious in person as it seemed in her videos. But he wasn't ready to admit that to his friends just yet.

Lando and Daniel exchanged a look, clearly not buying Max's nonchalant act.

"Oh come on," Lando scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You expect us to believe that? You've been glued to your phone for weeks, mate."

"I bet he's already planned their first date," Daniel leaned in, "What'll it be, Max? A romantic book reading by candlelight? Or maybe a visit to the library?"

Max felt his cheeks heating up again. "It's not like that, guys. We're just friends."

"Friends who talk every day and have you blushing like a schoolgirl," Lando teased, nudging Max with his elbow.

"I do not blush like a schoolgirl," Max protested, knowing full well that his face was probably bright red by now.

"Sure, sure," Daniel said with a wink. "Just friends. So, have you at least thought about inviting her to a race? You know, show her what you do when you're not reading about Mars?"

"Why would I invite her to a race, that would be weird," Max protested again, "And she already knows what I do, she's a fan of the sport."

"Man, you're so stubborn sometimes," Lando rolled his eyes at him, "If you like this girl, why don't you invite her to a race? It could be a great way to finally meet in person."

"And who said that I liked her," once again, Max's defensive self came through.

Daniel and Lando shared an exasperated look before turning back to Max.

"Come on, mate," Daniel said, his tone gentler now. "It's pretty obvious. We've never seen you this invested in someone before. Not to mention, you're reading books voluntarily for the first time since... well, ever."

"It's written all over your face," Lando said, shaking his head. "You like her, and there's no shame in that. You light up every time your phone buzzes. It's kind of adorable, actually."

Max sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew his friends were right, but admitting it out loud felt like a big step. "Okay, fine. Maybe I do like her. But it's complicated, you know? We've never even met in person."

"That's exactly why you should invite her to a race," Lando insisted. "It's the perfect opportunity. She gets to see you in your element, and you get to finally meet face-to-face."

"Plus," Daniel added with a mischievous grin, "if things go well, you can always show her your trophy collection. I hear that's a great way to impress the ladies."

Max couldn't help but laugh at that. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Maybe," Daniel shrugged, "but I'm also right. What have you got to lose?"

Max pondered this for a moment. The idea of meeting YN in person both thrilled and terrified him. What if they didn't click in real life the way they did over text? But then again, what if they did?

"I'll think about it," Max finally conceded.

Lando and Daniel exchanged triumphant grins.

"That's our boy," Lando said, patting his back.

After a few more beers and food, Lando and Daniel left.

As the night deepened, Max found himself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling. The conversation with Lando and Daniel kept replaying in his mind. His phone sat on the nightstand, silent but somehow still demanding his attention.

Max's thoughts raced. Should he text YN? Invite her to Zandvoort? The idea made his heart beat faster. He imagined seeing her in person for the first time, wondering if her smile would be as pretty as it was in her videos. But doubt crept in too. What if things were awkward? What if the chemistry they had online didn't translate to real life?

He rolled onto his side, eyeing his phone. The urge to reach out to her was strong, as it always was. Max realized that Lando and Daniel were right - he did like her. A lot. The thought of meeting her filled him with equal parts excitement and nervousness.

Taking a deep breath, Max grabbed his phone. Before he could overthink it, he started typing.

Hey YN, hope I'm not messaging too late. I was wondering if you'd like to come to the Dutch GP at Zandvoort? It's the first race after the summer break, and my home race. Thought it might be fun if you could make it.

He hit send before he could second-guess himself. The wait for her response felt eternal. When his phone finally buzzed, Max's heart leapt.

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username1 GIRL

username2 ARE YOU GOING WHERE I THINK YOU’RE GOING

username3 f1 x books this is literally me

username4 hot girls support max verstappen

username5 ahh if she’s going to the gp i’ll be so happy bc she’s a huge fan

username6 the way roles reversed and now max is his fan 😭

redbullracing We can’t wait 💙

↳ username1 REDBULL???

↳ username2 AHHH THEY PROBABLY INVITED HER

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As Max headed to Zandvoort Circuit for the Dutch Grand Prix, he felt the familiar weight of expectations settling on his shoulders.

The second half of the season loomed ahead, and the pressure to maintain his championship lead was on. He knew the team was counting on him to deliver strong results, especially at his home race where the orange-clad fans would be out in full force.

But amidst the pressure and responsibility, there was another emotion bubbling up inside him - a giddy excitement that he couldn't quite contain.

The thought of finally meeting YN in person after months of texts, calls, and shared book recommendations made his heart race in a way that had nothing to do with driving at a car at a very fast speed.

As he drove to the track, Max found himself smiling at random moments, his mind drifting to imagine what it would be like to see her smile in person, to hear her laugh without the filter of a phone call.

Max realized that for the first time in a long while, he was looking forward to a race weekend for reasons that extended beyond the track.

Unfortunately, his busy schedule kept them from meeting right away. Media commitments, team briefings, and practice sessions consumed his time, leaving him feeling frustrated and guilty for not being able to see her sooner. He sent her a quick message apologizing for the delay, promising they'd meet after qualifying.

As he made his way to the garage, a familiar voice called out behind him.

"Oi, Max! Ready for the big day?"

Max turned to see Daniel jogging up to him, his trademark grin in place.

"Yeah, should be a good quali," Max replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't talking about qualifying, mate. Your special guest arrives today, right?"

Max felt his cheeks warm. "How did you even remember that?"

"Please," Daniel scoffed. "It's all you've been talking about for weeks. So, have you met her yet?"

"No, my schedule's been packed. We're supposed to meet after quali."

"Ah, saving the best for last, eh?" Daniel's grin widened, "Smart move. Nothing like the adrenaline of a good qualifying session to make a great first impression."

"Or to completely mess it up," Max muttered.

"Hey, none of that," Daniel clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. Just be yourself. She already likes you for who you are, remember?"

Max nodded, feeling a bit reassured. "Thanks, Dan."

With a deep breath, Max headed into the garage, Daniel's words echoing in his mind.

Qualifying went smoothly, with Max securing a front row start to the delight of the Dutch fans. The cheers of the home crowd were deafening as he climbed out of the car, but his mind was elsewhere.

After the post-qualifying interviews, Max sent YN a quick text letting her know that he was free now and she let him know that she was around the hospitality area.

As he walked towards there, Max spotted YN standing near one of the motorhomes, looking around with wide eyes. She hadn't seen him yet, and for a moment, Max just watched her, taking in the sight of the girl who had been on his mind for months now.

She was even more gorgeous in person than he had imagined.

Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she took in the bustling paddock around her. The way the sunlight caught her hair, the gentle curve of her smile as she observed everything with wonder - it all took Max's breath away.

He noticed little details he couldn't have seen through a screen: the way her eyes sparkled, the subtle freckles across her nose, the graceful way she moved as she looked around.

Taking a deep breath, Max walked over, his heart pounding. "YN?"

She turned, her face lighting up with a radiant smile that made Max's breath catch. "Max! Finally!"

They moved toward each other, and without hesitation, Max pulled her into a hug. The embrace felt natural, as if they'd done this a hundred times before. He was aware of how perfectly she fit in his arms, the subtle scent of her perfume, and the warmth of her body against his.

"It's so good to finally meet you," he murmured into her hair. "I'm so sorry it took so long, this weekend's been crazy."

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with understanding in her eyes. "It's okay, Max. That qualifying was amazing! I've never experienced anything like it."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Come on, let me show you around."

He took her hand and he was struck by how natural it felt. Her fingers intertwined with his perfectly, and a warm sensation spread from their joined hands throughout his body.

They strolled through the paddock, Max pointing out the various team motorhomes, the garages, and the media center. YN was all wide-eyed fascination, asking questions and soaking in every detail. As they walked, Max found himself relaxing more and more, his previous nerves about their chemistry being gone fading away.

As they rounded a corner, they nearly bumped into Lando Norris. Who couldn't help but smirk at the sight of their hands intertwined.

"You guys met already!" he cheerfully said, "You must be YN."

Her cheeks flushed, clearly surprised that Max had mentioned her to his friends. Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her reaction.

"Yeah, this is YN," Max said, unable to keep the smile off his face, "Meet Lando, the perpetual pain in my ass."

"Nice to finally meet the girl who's got Max reading," YN laughed, and Lando extended his hand, "Quite the accomplishment."

"Nice to meet you too, Lando," YN said, shaking his hand. "I've enjoyed watching you race, I'm a big fan. Congrats on the pole position."

"Cheers," Lando replied, then turned to Max with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So, has he bored you with car talk yet, or has he actually remembered how to discuss books?"

Max rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Shouldn't you be preparing for tomorrow, Lando?"

"Alright, alright, I can take a hint," Lando chuckled. "Enjoy your tour, lovebirds!"

As Lando walked away, Max felt a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. He glanced at YN, relieved to see her smiling.

"Sorry about him," Max said, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Lando has a way of making everything awkward."

YN laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. "It's fine. He seems like fun."

They continued their walk, finally making their way to the rooftop terrace of the Red Bull hospitality area. The view was stunning, offering a panoramic look at the circuit and the sea of orange-clad fans below.

"This is incredible," YN said, leaning against the railing and taking it all in. "Thank you for showing me around, Max."

"Of course," Max said, standing beside her. "I'm really glad you could come."

They stood there for a moment, enjoying the view and each other's company. Max felt a sense of contentment wash over him, the stress of the weekend melting away in her presence.

"Max," YN said softly, turning to face him. "I know this weekend is important for you, and I don't want to be a distraction. But I'm really happy to be here and to finally meet you."

"You're not a distraction," Max replied, reaching out to take her hand again. "You're the best part of this weekend, honestly."

They shared a smile, Max was well aware of the butterflies that fluttered on his stomach and the high school girl blush his friends teased him about, but he didn't care. He felt happy with the pretty girl who had been his source of comfort for months, finally face to face.

"You know," YN said softly, "when I made that video calling you a misunderstood hero with a heart of gold, I never imagined I'd get to see it firsthand. But being here, seeing how you are with your team, with the fans… I was right about you, Max Verstappen."

Max felt a warmth spread through his chest at her words. He had always been guarded about his public image, but hearing her perspective meant more than he could ever imagine.

"I'm glad you think so," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You know, that video... it changed things for me. Not just because it led to us talking, but because it made me reflect on a lot of things."

"Who would've thought," YN said with a smile, "When I recorded that video, I never thought you would ever see it, let alone have an impact on you and let alone lead us to talking and me being here."

"Everything happens for a reason, right?"

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ynreadsbooks best experience ever. thank you, thank you, THANK YOU 🥺💙

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username1 OMFGGGG

username2 no one deserved this more than her for real

username3 SHE MET MAX TOO?? DESERVED

redbullracing Come back soon! 😉

username4 red bull finally inviting people who actually love the sport

username5 GIRL WE NEED A VLOGGGG

username6 omg how did this happen spiiiill

↳ ynreadsbooks let's say i got invited by the world champion

↳ username1 WTF

↳ username2 so MAX invited her not redbull help he really did become a fan after that video

danielricciardo Hope to see you around soon, love ! 👀

↳ username3 how do i sign up for this

username7 THAT PIC OF MAX IS SO BOYFRIEND CODED

maxversteppen1 Thank you so much for coming and making this day special ☺️

↳ username1 OMG MAX

↳ username2 i'd be screaming if i was her

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maxverstappen1 Enjoyed every moment in Zandvoort with this amazing atmosphere and the best company 🧡

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username1 KIIING

username2 how can a man be so babygirl

username3 all smiles even tho he finished p2

danielricciardo 🦁🦁

landonorris Simply lovely

↳ username1 menace

username4 bro who got you smiling like that

ynreadsbooks ❤️

↳ username2 biggest max girlie

↳ username3 WE NEED THAT VLOG

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When it came time for YN to leave the Netherlands, Max insisted on driving her to the airport himself. The car ride was filled with comfortable silence and soft conversation, both of them trying to stretch out their remaining time together.

Despite their short time together, Max found himself completely smitten, captivated by YN's intelligence, humor, and the way her eyes lit up when she talked about books or reacted to the thrill of the race.

He didn't want to admit it to himself, but he was head over heels for her.

As they stood in the departure terminal, Max felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He hesitated, his heart racing, but ultimately settled for a long, warm hug, breathing in her scent and committing it to memory. As he watched her walk through security, he already found himself missing her presence.

Now, a week later, Max was in Monza for the Italian Grand Prix. The day had been busy with media commitments and team meetings. Finally back in the quiet of his motorhome, Max flopped onto the couch, feeling drained but content. Without thinking, he reached for his phone and hit the FaceTime button next to YN's name.

Her smiling face appeared on the screen, and Max felt an immediate surge of warmth.

"Hey, you," she said, her voice soft and welcoming even through the phone's speakers.

"Hey," Max replied, unable to keep the grin off his face. "How's your day been?"

"Oh, you know, the usual. Editing videos, reading, missing the excitement of the paddock," YN teased. "How about you? Surviving the media circus?"

"Barely," Max groaned dramatically, "I swear, if I have to answer one more question about RedBull and their big mess, I might go mad."

YN laughed, the sound making Max's heart skip a beat. "Poor Max. Whatever shall we do to take your mind off your beloved team?"

"Well," Max said, shifting to get more comfortable, "I've been reading that new sci-fi book you recommended. 'The Martian-like Odyssey to Titan,' or whatever it's called."

"'Project Hail Mary,'" she corrected, "And? What do you think so far?"

"It's incredible!" Max's eyes lit up, "I mean, the science is fascinating, and the way the main character problem-solves is just... I don't know, it reminds me a bit of what we do in racing, you know? Constantly adapting, finding solutions on the fly."

"That's exactly why I thought you'd like it! The way Andy Weir writes about scientific problem-solving is so engaging."

They dove into an animated discussion about the book, Max marveling at how easily conversation flowed between them, how YN's passion for books was infectious. As they talked, a thought that had been brewing in Max's mind for days suddenly surfaced.

"YN," Max said, his voice softer than before. "There's actually something I've been wanting to ask you."

"Oh? What is it, Max?" she tilted her head, curiosity evident in her expression.

Max took a deep breath, suddenly feeling like he was about to qualify for a crucial race. "Well, I was wondering... have you ever been to Monaco?"

"No, actually, I haven't," YN's eyebrows raised in surprise, "It's always been on my travel wish list, though. Why do you ask?"

Max felt his heart rate pick up. He'd rehearsed this moment in his head countless times over the past few days, but now that it was here, he found himself fumbling for words.

"Well, you see, I have a two-week break coming up before the Baku GP, and I was thinking... maybe... if you're free, of course, and if you'd like to... you could come visit me in Monaco?"

The words tumbled out faster than he intended, and Max felt a blush creeping up his neck. He watched YN's face carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. His mind raced with possibilities - what if she said no? What if this was too forward?

YN's eyes widened, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. "Oh, Max, that's... wow. That's really sweet of you to offer."

Max, sensing a hint of hesitation, quickly added, "You could stay at my place. I have plenty of room, and it would be great to have you around. Plus I have two adorable cats that I'm sure you'd love."

YN's expression softened, a mix of excitement and uncertainty in her eyes. "That sounds amazing, Max. But… are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose on your personal space or your time off."

Truth was, Max wanted to spent every free moment he had with her, but he wasn't sure how to let her know without sounding too forward or like a creep, so he just pressed on.

"You wouldn't be imposing at all, I promise. I really want us to spend more time together, away from the craziness of the race weekends. And I'd love to show you around Monaco."

He watched as YN bit her lip, considering his offer. The silence stretched for a moment, and Max found himself holding his breath.

"If you're not comfortable staying at my place," he added quickly, "I could book you a hotel room, or there are some great Airbnbs with amazing views of the harbor. Whatever makes you feel most at ease. I just… I really want to see you again."

As he spoke, Max realized just how true his words were. The thought of having YN in his space, sharing meals, exploring the city together - it filled him with a warmth he couldn't quite describe. It was more than just attraction; there was a comfort in her presence that he craved.

YN smiled, a warm look in her eyes. "You really mean that, don't you?"

"I do. Look, I know it might seem like a big ask, but I just... I can't stop thinking about how much fun we have together. And Monaco is beautiful this time of year. We could go for drives along the coast, have dinner at some amazing restaurants, or just relax by the pool if you prefer. No pressure, just... us. And well, the cats."

Max held his breath, waiting for her response. The thought of having YN in Monaco, of being able to spend uninterrupted time with her away from the pressures of the race weekend, made his heart soar. He imagined showing her his favorite spots in the city, maybe taking her out on his boat, or just lounging by the pool and talking for hours.

"Alright, Verstappen, you've convinced me. But I have one condition."

"Name it." Max grinned, relief and excitement washing over him.

"If I'm staying at your place, you have to let me cook my infamous waffles for breakfast. They're a secret family recipe, and I guarantee they'll be the best you've ever tasted."

"Deal," Max's smile widened, a burst of joy exploding in his chest. "But I warn you, I take my waffles very seriously. They better live up to the hype."

"Oh, they will. And I can't wait to meet the cats."

As they continued to chat and make plans for YN's visit, Max felt a warmth spreading through his chest. The prospect of having YN in his home, of waking up and knowing she was just in the next room, of being able to spend lazy mornings together over homemade waffles - it all seemed almost too good to be true.

He found himself imagining what it would be like to have her there. Would she curl up on his couch with a book? Would they watch the sunset from his terrace? Would he finally get the courage to kiss her?

The thought made his heart race. He remembered the moment at the airport when he had wanted so badly to kiss her goodbye. This time, he promised himself, he wouldn't let the opportunity pass by.

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The day of YN's arrival in Monaco had finally come, and Max felt like a giddy teenager preparing for his first date.

In the days leading up to YN's visit, Max had found himself unusually preoccupied with preparations. He wanted everything to be perfect for YN's stay. He'd bought new sheets for the guest bedroom, making sure they were the softest he could find. He'd stocked the fridge with an array of foods, unsure of her preferences but making sure to have options. He'd even gone so far as to buy a small collection of books he thought she might enjoy, arranging them carefully on the nightstand in her room.

The morning of her arrival, Max woke up early, his stomach a knot of excitement and nerves. He double-checked everything one last time - fresh towels in the bathroom, extra toiletries in case she forgot anything, a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen counter to brighten up the space. He felt almost silly with how much effort he was putting in, but he couldn't help himself. He wanted everything to be perfect for the girl he was smitten with.

As the time to leave for the airport approached, Max found himself pacing, checking his watch every few minutes. He'd planned the route to the airport meticulously, factoring in potential traffic to make sure he'd be there in plenty of time. Just as he was about to grab his keys and head out, the doorbell rang.

Confused, Max paused. He wasn't expecting anyone - he'd made sure to clear his schedule completely for YN's visit. Frowning slightly, he opened the door to find Lando standing there, a wide grin on his face.

"Lando? What are you doing here?" Max asked, glancing at his watch.

"What, can't a mate drop by for a visit?" Lando replied, trying to peer past Max into the apartment. "Thought we could hang out, maybe play some FIFA."

Max shifted awkwardly, blocking the doorway. "Lando, mate, I'm actually just about to head out. I can't hang out right now."

"Oh, come on," Lando's grin faltered slightly, "Just for a bit? We haven't had a proper catch-up in ages."

"I'm sorry, I really can't," Max insisted, glancing at his watch nervously. "I have to pick up a friend from the airport."

Lando's eyes narrowed suspiciously, a mischievous glint appearing. "A friend, huh? Is it that your book dream girl? You're flying her out over here?"

Max felt his face heat up, a blush creeping up his neck. He tried to deny it, but his reaction gave him away.

"It is! Oh man, this is brilliant," Lando's eyes widened in delight, "Max Verstappen, blushing like a schoolboy over a girl."

"Shut up," Max grumbled, but there was no real annoyance in his voice. He couldn't help but smile.

"So, YN is finally gracing Monaco with her presence," Lando teased. "No wonder you've been so distracted lately. When do I get to hang out with her?"

"You don't," Max rolled his eyes, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go."

"Alright, alright," Lando stepped aside, still grinning. "But I want details later, yeah? And tell YN I said hi."

Max waved him off, hurrying to his car. Despite Lando's teasing, he couldn't wipe the smile off his face. The excitement was bubbling up inside him again as he drove to the airport.

As he parked and made his way to the arrivals area, Max felt his nerves almost making him want to throw up. He found himself fidgeting, alternating between pacing and sitting, his eyes glued to the arrivals board.

Finally, he saw that YN's flight had landed. His heart rate picked up as he watched the doors, scanning the crowd for her familiar face. And then, suddenly, there she was.

YN emerged from the arrivals gate, looking a bit tired from the journey but still radiant. Her eyes scanned the crowd, and when they landed on Max, her face lit up with a brilliant smile.

Max felt his breath catch in his throat. He raised his hand in a small wave, a grin spreading across his face as he walked towards her.

"Hey, Max," she said as she reached him, her voice warm and slightly breathless.

"Hey," he replied, suddenly feeling shy. "How was your flight?"

Without thinking, he pulled her into a hug. As he wrapped his arms around her, breathing in the scent of her hair, he felt a sense of rightness wash over him. It was as if all the pieces were falling into place.

"It was good, just long," she hugged him back tightly. "I'm so glad to be here though."

As they pulled apart, Max found himself reluctant to let go completely. He kept one hand on her back as he reached for her suitcase with the other. "Here, let me get that for you."

"Always the gentleman," YN teased, but her smile was soft and appreciative.

As they walked towards the exit, Max found himself stealing glances at her, still hardly believing she was really here. "So, um, I thought we could grab some lunch if you're hungry? Or if you're tired, we can head straight to my place so you can rest."

YN considered for a moment. "Lunch sounds great, actually. I'm starving, and I'm too excited to sleep just yet. I want to see Monaco."

Max chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through his chest at her enthusiasm. "Lunch it is then. I know just the place – it has a great view of the harbor."

As they made their way to Max's car, chatting easily about YN's flight and Max's plans for her visit, Max felt a sense of contentment he hadn't experienced in a long time. The nervousness from earlier had melted away, replaced by pure happiness.

Loading YN's suitcase into the trunk, Max caught her eye and smiled. "I'm really glad you're here, YN."

She returned his smile, her eyes sparkling. "Me too, Max. Me too."

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username1 AWEEE

username2 those are cute kittens

username3 those look like max verstappen's cats

username4 JIMMY AND SASSY VERSTAPPEN??

↳ username1 how CRAZY would it be

danielricciardo Don't hesitate to shout if he's much trouble

↳ username2 HOLD ON??

↳ ynreadsbooks he's just fine don't worry 😅

↳ username3 IS SHE REALLY WITH MAX??

↳ maxverstappen1 I'm not trouble...

↳ username1 OMFGGG

↳ username4 THIS PLOT TWIST

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Three days had passed since YN's arrival in Monaco, and Max couldn't remember a time when he'd been happier.

True to her word, YN had cooked her infamous waffles for breakfast on the second morning of her stay. As Max had taken his first bite, his eyes had widened in surprise and delight. The waffles were light and crispy on the outside, yet fluffy on the inside, with a perfect balance of sweetness and a hint of vanilla. He'd declared them the best he'd ever tasted, earning a proud smile from her.

The days that followed had been filled with laughter, conversation, and exploration. They'd spent hours by Max's pool, talking about everything and nothing. YN would often bring a book, reading aloud passages that she found particularly interesting or amusing, while Max listened, content to hear her voice and watch the way her eyes lit up when she spoke about something she loved.

They'd explored Monaco together, with Max showing YN his favorite spots and discovering new ones together. He'd taken her to the Monte Carlo Casino, where they'd marveled at the architecture and people-watched. They'd strolled through the streets of Monaco-Ville, the old town, where YN had been enchanted by the colorful buildings. They'd even spent an afternoon at the Oceanographic Museum, where YN's enthusiasm for learning had been infectious, and Max had found himself just as excited as she was about the marine life exhibits.

Throughout it all, Max felt himself falling deeper for her. It wasn't just her beauty or her intelligence that captivated him, but the way she saw the world. Her curiosity, her kindness, her ability to find joy in the smallest things - it all made Max see his surroundings through new eyes. He found himself noticing details he'd never paid attention to before, appreciating moments he might have otherwise overlooked.

What struck Max most was how easy and right it all felt. There was no pressure, no awkwardness. Being with YN was as natural as breathing. They could talk for hours without running out of things to say, but they were also comfortable in silence, simply enjoying each other's presence.

As they returned from another long day of exploring the city, both Max and YN retreated to their respective rooms to change into more comfortable clothing. Max opted for a soft t-shirt and sweatpants, relishing the feeling of being relaxed and at ease in his own home.

When he emerged from his room, he found YN already settled on his couch, her legs tucked under her, a book in her hands and one of his cats curling beside her. She was wearing one the t-shirt she picked the night she arrived when she realized she forgot to pack pajamas. It was too big for her frame but Max felt like melting knowing she was wearing his shirt.

The sight made Max's heart skip a beat. There was something so intimate and domestic about the scene - YN looking completely at home in his space, in his clothes, absorbed in a book as if she'd always been there.

Max couldn't help but smile, a warmth spreading through his chest. He found himself wanting this view in his life every day - coming home to find YN there, comfortable and content. The thought both thrilled and terrified him. He'd never felt this way about anyone before, never wanted to intertwine his life so completely with another person's.

YN looked up from her book, catching Max's gaze. Her lips curved into a soft smile. "Hey. Want to join me?"

Without hesitation, Max crossed the room. Instead of sitting next to her, he surprised both of them by lying down on the couch and resting his head in her lap. He looked up at her, his eyes vulnerable. "Would you read to me?"

YN's expression softened, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Of course," she said, her free hand moving to gently run her fingers through his hair.

Max closed his eyes, reveling in the sensation. He felt her shift slightly, getting comfortable, and then her voice filled the air, soft and melodious as she began to read.

Max's lips curved into a smile. "Emma," he murmured. "I remember you mentioning it was one of your favorites."

YN paused her reading, looking down at him with surprise and pleasure. "You remembered that?"

"Of course," Max opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. "I remember everything you tell me."

A huge grin appeared in YN's face, and she bent down to press a soft kiss to Max's forehead. The gesture was so natural, so tender, that it made Max's heart flutter.

As she continued to read, her fingers still combing through his hair, Max found himself only half-listening to the words. Instead, he was acutely aware of every point of contact between them - the warmth of her lap under his head, the gentle touch of her fingers, the soft cadence of her voice washing over him.

In that moment, Max realized with startling clarity that this was what he wanted for the rest of his life. Not just the glamour of racing or the thrill of victory, but this - quiet moments of intimacy, the comfort of being with someone who understood him, who made him want to be better.

He reached up, gently taking YN's free hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. She paused in her reading, looking down at him with a question in her eyes.

"YN," Max said softly, his voice filled with emotion. "I'm really glad you're here."

She squeezed his hand, her smile radiant. "So am I, Max. So am I."

As she resumed reading, her voice mixing with the soft sound of the Mediterranean breeze outside, Max closed his eyes again, a sense of peace settling over him. Whatever the future held, he knew that this moment, this feeling, was something he'd cherish forever.

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ynreadsbooks monaco you're the dream 🤍

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username1 GIRL

username2 THIS ESCALATED QUICKLY

username3 how do you go from max randomly commenting one of your videos to this

username4 girl we can tell that's max dw 😭😭

username5 YOU OWE US A TWO HOUR STORYTIME VIDEO

username6 anything you want to tell us best friend?

username7 she just had a book and a dream fr

landonorris Has he bored you yet?

↳ username1 IM DYING

↳ username2 she really masterminded her way into the f1 circle

↳ ynreadsbooks he's nice, makes good smoothies 😉

↳ maxverstappen1 Good to know that ❤️

↳ landonorris I'm disgusted

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As the final day of YN's stay in Monaco dawned, Max found himself feeling so many bittersweet emotions. The past week had been nothing short of magical, and the thought of it coming to an end left a hollow feeling in his chest. She hadn't even left yet, and already he missed her.

For their final day, Max had decided to take YN out on his yacht. He wanted their last hours together to be special, just the two of them away from the bustling streets of Monaco. As they prepared for the day, packing a picnic and gathering sunscreen and towels, Max couldn't help but reflect on the past week.

Daniel and Lando had teased him mercilessly about his sudden disappearance from their usual hangouts. They'd made jokes about Max being "whipped" and how he'd fallen hard for his "YouTube dream girl." But Max didn't care. He was too happy, too caught up in the bubble of joy that surrounded him and YN.

As they boarded the yacht, the Mediterranean stretching out before them in shades of turquoise, Max felt a pang in his chest. This perfect week was coming to an end, and he wasn't sure he was ready to face reality again.

Once they were out on the open water. YN leaned over the railing, a look of wonder on her face.

"This is incredible, Max," she said, turning to him with a dazzling smile. "I can't believe I'm here, experiencing all of this."

Max moved to stand beside her, their shoulders brushing. "I'm going to miss you," he said softly, "This week has been… I don't even have words for it."

"I'm going to miss you too, Max. So much. But you know I have to go back home. I have videos to make for my channel, work stuff to catch up on…"

Max nodded, understanding but not liking it. "Maybe you could make a video about 'A Week with an F1 Driver'? I'm sure your subscribers would love that."

YN laughed, playfully shoving his shoulder. "Oh yes, I'm sure that would go over well. 'Day 3: Watched Max eat his bodyweight in pasta. Day 5: Learned that F1 drivers are actually big babies when they lose at Mario Kart.'"

"I am not a baby!" Max gasped in mock offense. "I'm just… competitive."

"Uh-huh, sure," she teased, her eyes twinkling. "Is that why you pouted for an hour after I beat you?"

"I did not pout," Max protested, but he was grinning.

"You know, it's still surreal to me that a random video I published got us here. If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be spending a week in Monaco with Max Verstappen, I would have laughed in their face."

Max reached out, caressing her cheek softly. "I'm glad you made that video," he said softly. "I'm glad I stumbled across it. I can't imagine not knowing you now."

As they stood together on the boat, the gentle rocking of the waves mirroring the tumultuous emotions within them, Max found his gaze drawn to YN's lips. They were slightly parted, soft and inviting. His heart raced as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, a silent question in his gaze.

YN's eyes, warm and full of affection, met his. A small, knowing smile played at the corners of her mouth, and in that moment, it was all the permission Max needed.

With a gentle tug, he pulled her closer, one hand coming to rest on the small of her back while the other cupped her cheek. Time seemed to slow as he leaned in, their breaths mingling in the space between them. And then, finally, their lips met.

The kiss was tender at first, a soft exploration. But as YN's arms wrapped around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair, it deepened into something more passionate. Max poured all of his pent-up emotions into the kiss - his joy, his longing, his hope for what they could be.

When they finally parted, YN's eyes were sparkling. "You know," she said, a playful tone to her voice, "I've been waiting for you to do that all week."

Max couldn't help but laugh, a mixture of relief and happiness bubbling up inside him. "Really? All week, huh?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded, her smile widening. "I was starting to think I'd have to make the first move myself."

"Well," Max said, his voice low and teasing, "allow me to make up for lost time."

With that, he pulled her in for another kiss. This one was different from the first - more confident, more passionate. His hands roamed her back, pulling her flush against him as her fingers tangled in his hair. The world around them faded away until there was nothing but the two of them, the taste of salt on their lips, and the warmth of the setting sun on their skin.

When they broke apart this time, both were slightly dazed. Max rested his forehead against YN's, unwilling to put any distance between them.

"I really like you," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "More than I've ever liked anyone before. This week with you… it's been incredible. I don't want it to end."

YN's hand came up to cup his cheek, her thumb gently stroking his skin. "I really like you too, Max," she replied, her voice equally soft. "These past few days have been like a dream."

Max pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes. "I know you have to go back, but… I want to make this work. Us, I mean. If that's something you want too."

"I do want that. Very much. It might not be easy with our schedules and the distance, but I think you're worth it."

"We'll figure it out," he said, determination clear in his voice. "I'll come visit you when I can, and you can come to some of my races. We'll make time for video calls, and I'll text you so much you'll get sick of me."

YN laughed, the sound like music to Max's ears. "I don't think I could ever get sick of you," she said, her eyes twinkling. "But I'm holding you to that promise about the races. I expect VIP treatment, Mr. Verstappen."

Max grinned, pulling her close again. "For you? Always," he murmured, before capturing her lips in another kiss.

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ynreadsbooks has added to their stories

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The month following YN's stay in Monaco had been blissful happiness for both YN and Max. Their parting at the airport had been bittersweet, filled with lingering kisses and tight embraces. They had spent a good hour cuddling in Max's car in the airport parking lot, neither wanting to let go.

"I'm going to miss you so much," YN had whispered, her face buried in the crook of Max's neck.

Max had tightened his arms around her, breathing in her scent. "I'll miss you too. But we'll see each other soon, I promise."

When they finally managed to separate, their goodbye kiss had been passionate and filled with promise. As Max watched her disappear into the airport, he already felt a piece of his heart leaving with her.

In the weeks that followed, they took every opportunity to be together. Max would fly to YN's home during his breaks between races, often arriving exhausted but immediately revitalized by her presence.

Their reunions were always intense, filled with desperate kisses and roaming hands as they made up for lost time. But it was the quiet moments that Max treasured most - waking up with YN in his arms, her sleepy smile the first thing he saw; cooking breakfast together, stealing kisses between flipping pancakes; or simply sitting in comfortable silence, each lost in their own tasks but finding comfort in the other's presence.

Now, as they walked hand in hand through the paddock in Austin for the USA Grand Prix, Max felt a sense of pride and joy unlike anything he'd experienced before. Having YN by his side at a race weekend, this time as more than just a friend, felt right in a way he couldn't fully express.

"This is incredible, Max," YN breathed, squeezing his hand. "I don't think I'll ever get used to it."

Max grinned, his heart swelling with affection. He loved seeing the paddock through her eyes, rediscovering the magic that he sometimes took for granted.

"Wait until you see the track," he said, pulling her closer. "And the sound when all the cars start up… there's nothing like it."

They paused for a moment, watching as a group of mechanics wheeled a set of tires past them. Max took the opportunity to really look at his girl. She was radiant in the sunlight, her hair catching the light and her eyes sparkling with excitement. He couldn't resist leaning in to place a soft kiss on her cheek.

YN turned to him, a playful smile on her lips. "What was that for?"

"Do I need a reason to kiss my girl?" Max replied, his voice low and teasing.

She laughed, the sound music to his ears. "I suppose not. But maybe save some for later? We are in public, after all."

"You're killing me," Max groaned dramatically. "How am I supposed to focus on racing when you look like that?"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll manage," YN teased, patting his chest. "After all, I hear you're quite good at this driving thing."

Their playful banter was interrupted by a familiar voice calling out. "Oi, Verstappen! Finally decided to grace us with your presence?"

Max turned to see Daniel approaching, his trademark grin in place. Lando was close behind, an equally mischievous look on his face.

"Hey guys," Max greeted, unconsciously pulling YN closer. "You remember YN, right?"

"Ah yes," Daniel's grin widened. "Nice to see you again, love."

"It's great to see you too, Daniel," she smiled warmly. "And you, Lando."

Lando's eyes darted between Max and YN, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "So, Max, finally managed to seal the deal, huh?"

Max felt his cheeks heat up, but before he could respond, YN jumped in.

"Oh, he did more than that," she said, her tone light but with a hint of something that made Max's pulse quicken. "He's been quite… impressive."

Daniel let out a low whistle while Lando burst into laughter. Max couldn't help but join in, marveling at how effortlessly YN fit into his world.

As they chatted, Max couldn't keep his hands off YN. He found himself constantly touching her - a hand on the small of her back, playing with her fingers, rubbing her arm softly. Each touch was like a spark, reminding him of their passionate reunions over the past month.

He thought back to their last meeting, just a week ago. He had flown to her place straight after he was done with some meetings in Monaco, exhausted but desperate to see her. The moment he stepped through her door, all fatigue had vanished. They had barely made it to the bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes in their wake. The memory of her skin against his, the taste of her lips, the sound of her gasps and moans… it was enough to make him want to whisk her away to his motorhome right now.

Max was pulled from his thoughts by the approach of another familiar face. Charles Leclerc was walking towards them, his trademark charming smile in place.

"Max! Good to see you, man," Charles said, clapping Max on the shoulder before turning his attention to YN. "And who might this lovely lady be?"

Without hesitation, the words tumbled from Max's lips: "This is YN, my girlfriend."

He felt the girl stiffen slightly beside him, and for a moment, panic flared in his chest. Had he overstepped? They hadn't explicitly discussed labels yet. But when he glanced at YN, she was smiling warmly at Charles, her hand still firmly in Max's.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Charles," YN said, shaking his hand.

Charles raised an eyebrow at Max, a hint of surprise in his expression. "The pleasure is all mine. I hope you're enjoying your time in the paddock."

After exchanging a few more pleasantries, they parted ways. Max led YN towards his driver's room. Once inside the relative privacy of the small space, YN turned to him, a playful glint in her eye.

"Girlfriend, huh?" she said, her tone light but with an undercurrent of something Max couldn't quite identify.

Max felt a flutter of nervousness in his stomach. "I… yeah. I mean, if that's okay? I know we haven't really talked about it, but…"

YN stepped closer, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "It's more than okay, Max. I was just surprised. We've been in this beautiful bubble, and hearing you say it out loud… it made it feel real in a way it hasn't before."

Max let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. His hands found their way to YN's waist, pulling her closer. "It is real," he said softly. "I've never felt this way about anyone before. Feels like you're everything."

Her eyes softened, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "You're everything to me too, Max. I love you."

The words hung in the air between them for a moment, both realizing it was the first time either had said it. Then Max surged forward, capturing YN's lips in a kiss that was equal parts tender and passionate.

When they broke apart. Max rested his forehead against YN's, his eyes closed as he savored the moment.

"I love you too," he whispered. "God, YN, I love you so much."

YN's answering smile was radiant and she pulled him in for another kiss.

"So," he said, his voice husky, "ready to watch your boyfriend win a race?"

YN laughed, the sound filling the small space and Max's heart. "Always," she replied. "My misunderstood hero with a heart of gold."

escaped:

chapter one:

see you again

you were incredibly pissed about what happened at the USJ, and how eraserhead was horribly injured. you spend a whole week off of your usual patrols because you couldn’t focus. sitting here, on the usual roof you’d met eraserhead, you wait, seeing if any crime would happen, and get your mind of him.

“hey, long time, no see,” you hear from behind you, and you straighten up, “surprised you’re even here. tsukauchi said he didn’t see you for a week.”

you visibly shake, “how could i? you were hurt and i couldn’t do anything to stop it!” you take a breath before you start breathing again, “you’re the only person so far who hasn’t hurt me nor betrayed my trust since meeting you over a year ago, and seeing you hurt like that, made me realize that i can’t lose you too. i’m sorry eraserhead.”

before he could speak, you jumped from the roof, and ran, hoping to find a place to calm down before you have a panic attack, only to find a villain trying to hurt a civilian.

“well, damn, just my luck, isn’t it?” you speak, the microphone in your mask making your voice sound deeper, “do you really wanna hurt her?”

the villain laughs, “man! i can’t believe it’s really you, glitch! i’ve been wanting to fight you for a long time.”

with the villain’s attention on you, you see the woman trying to get away, so you keep the villain’s attention on you.

“here’s your chance then, come at me with all you got!” you yell, and the villain immediately charges at you. without knowing the villains quirk, you decide to try and stay as far away as you can, at least until you know it and how it works.

“you know, you’re hard to find, been out here for weeks hoping to catch your attention,” he speaks before throwing the knife he had in his hand at you, “and i finally got it!”

dodging so the knife doesn’t hit you, you chuckle, “sorry, why did you want my attention? wouldn’t it be more rewarding to have endeavor’s or all might’s?” you speak, trying to get him in engage in conversation more, “why is my direct attention so important to you?”

he laughs, “ah, but why wouldn’t it be?” he asks, jumping trying to get in close to throw a punch, “you fight quirkless, but yet, you are undefeated, so if i’m able to defeat you, imagine the credibility i’ll have defeating you!”

you chuckle, a dark glint in your eyes, “i’d like to see you try.”

after a few moments of dodging his punches, he finally lands one on your arm, causing it to break in half.

“oh you fucking bitch,” you swear in english, before going back to japanese, “so your quirk is super strength, or something related to it.”

the villain grins sickeningly, “oh, you’re right. my quirk lets me fight with the same power as endeavor but nowhere near his size, not many expect it.”

“at least i’ll know to expect it,” you hear eraserhead’s voice from behind the villain and the villain turns around, and you feel a sense a dread wash over you.

“eraserhead too? oh, this is a party,” he says, “good thing, this is a mutation quirk, you can’t erase it.”

realizing what was happening, you run, jumping on the walls, the way you were trained to, jumping in front of eraserhead just as the villain delivers a devastating blow to your chest, and you feel the air leave your lungs and your vision blurring.

“even better! i got glitch! now time to make them pay,” the villain says, and you can hear the sirens.

“you really think i’d follow her without backup? you got another thing coming,” you hear eraserhead say, and you try to lift your head up but it takes too much energy and your chest is in too much pain. you don’t remember much after that.

——

waking up smelling antiseptic confuses you for a minute and then you jump into panic. your eyes shoot open and you sit up quickly, and see 4 other people in the room. you feel your chest heave in panic as you realize you don’t have your mask on. the old lady seems to notice this immediately and walks over to you.

“it’s okay dearie, you’re safe and your injures are healed,” she speaks to you, softly, an attempt to calm you down, and it does, a little.

“taking a hit for eraser, huh, glitch?” a man, who you recognize as present mic, says. you freeze when he says that, the panic setting back in as you realize a bunch of pro heroes know who you are.

“it’s okay. yes, we do know your identity, or at least what your face looks like, but we have no intention on arresting you,” the bear, dog, hybrid says, “i’m nezu, the principal!”

“wait, you said i wasn’t going to be arrested?” you ask, panic still in your chest.

“you will not be arrested as you did not break any laws. vigilantism is only illegal when you use your quirk, and as far as aizawa has said, you don’t use it,” nezu spoke, watching your face carefully.

“who the fuck is aizawa?” you speak after a moment of silence, and present mic immediately starts laughing, eraserhead looks annoyed, the doctor looks confused and the principal looks the same except his smile is slightly bigger, showing he’s amused.

“me, i’m aizawa,” eraserhead, no, aizawa speaks.

“oh,” you speak, voice quiet, “sorry, usually i’m better at figuring things like this out but i’m slightly panicky.”

“why dearie? is there a reason or do you have anxiety?” the doctor asks, “and i’m recovery girl, considering you didn’t know eraserhead was aizawa, it’s easier to tell you.”

you nod, “i have anxiety and ptsd. i don’t go to hospitals or doctors often. only when i’m on the verge of dying, which hasn’t been in years.”

“why would you be on the verge of dying?” nezu asks, his voice softer, as if he knows to tread lightly.

“uh, no offense, but you guys haven’t gotten to the level of trust where you get to unlock my tragic backstory,” you say, shrugging, “just know, it wasn’t pretty.”

nezu nods, and looking away from him, you see present mic looking sad and aizawa looks unbothered, until you look at him in the eyes, and see he’s bothered by something.

“do you have anywhere to stay dearie?” recovery girl asks, and you shake your head.

“no, for the most part i stay at homeless shelters when it’s cold and the rest of the year i stay wherever i can.”

silence falls over the room, and you can cut the tension with a knife.

“how old are you, little listener?” present mic asks, and you raise your head to look him in the eyes.

“i just turned 16,” you speak, shrugging.

you hear a gasp from recovery girl, and you turn to look at her, “what?”

“where are your parents?” nezu asks, his voice slightly colder now, as if he’s angry.

you shrug, “don’t know. don’t care. i left america when i was 10, caught a plane here, haven’t been back since.”

you hear aizawa sigh lowly, and you look at him, tilting you head, in a questioning manner.

“did you even know your parents?” he asks, after a moment, and you shake your head.

“no, i don’t think so,” you finally reply, voice meek.

a silence falls once again, until nezu breaks it, “aizawa, yamada, would you let her sleep at your apartment tonight? i would like to speak with her more tomorrow,” he asks, and you immediately hold your hands up.

“no, no, nope. i’m not doing that. i don’t want to be a bother,” you speak, “is there anyway i can just stay here?”

present mic looks distraught, “it wouldn’t be a bother, right, shota?”

aizawa sighs, “i rather you stay where the two of us can watch you, than you escape.”

you gasp mockingly, “how dare you accuse me of trying to escape?”

he looks at you, and deadpans, “because you totally didn’t escape tonight during our talk.”

you shrug, “was gonna cry if i didn’t, so i yeeted out of there. also, don’t ask why i was gonna cry, don’t wanna talk about it.”

nezu nodded, “do stay with aizawa and yamada. we’ll talk about your arrangement tomorrow with the school.”

you nodded, and sat up to stand but as soon as you did, you got lightheaded and stay back down, “i forget i’m anemic.”

recovery girl sighs, “between you and midoryia, i have my work cut out for me this year.”

Things go WONDERFULLY RIGHT or HORRIBLY WRONG

Pairing: AU! Katsuki Bakugo x F!Reader

Summary: After looking for months for a job position you finally get an opportunity at a big company. Being the assistant of the angriest person was going to be a lot harder than you thought it would be.

Warning(s): strong language, fluff, angst, cheating

Schedule: Tuesdays and Saturdays 🐥

Part 1: First day and it’s already awkward… great.

Part 1.5: Talks with my Pickachu 💛⚡

Part 2: The literal firestorm

Part 3: I can’t believe you’ve done this 

Part 4: The second big bang 

Part 5: Change of plans! 

Part 6:  Unexpected guest(s)

Part 7:  A new surprise 

Part 8:  Hey guys! I made it! 

Part 9: And they were roommates 

Part 10: Walk away and then panic 

Part 11: Horribly wrong 

Part 12:  A bubbly feeling 

Part 13  Sweet and sour 

Part 14: Hello it’s meee

Part 15:  Don’t trust the female