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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.
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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 😭
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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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liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 286,375 others
ynreadsbooks this week’s video will be delayed for some ~personal reasons ☺️
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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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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 301,257 others
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
liked by charles_leclerc, ynreadsbooks and 1,028,479 others
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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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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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."
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I mean this is all well and good, totally do quash conspiracy type videos and posts, but like if you live in the US, and probably many other parts of the world, your history textbooks are definitely partially biased or censored.
In the US, which I'll use as an example because I know this from living here, going to school here, and having worked in middle and high school education for a few years, textbook manufacturing and sales is a heavily monopolized industry with only a few publishers covering textbook sales for most US schools. Large chunks of information about Columbus, slavery, the truth of the AIDS epidemic, and the mass extermination of native peoples through biological warfare and intentional mass murder of wild animals are modified, sanitized, or outright omitted by US history textbooks and school curriculums. Less and less as time moves on, thankfully, but just a decade ago it was still pretty bad from my own experience as a student. YMMV depending on where your school is located with regards to censorship.
However, even in more diverse, progressive school districts, history teachers are statistically more likely to be bigoted, nationalistic, and/or conservative men with a love of history for the wrong reasons. Speaking from personal experience as a former substitute teacher that serviced schools from the backwoods to the ritzy neighborhoods for 3 years, I genuinely disliked most history teachers I had to work with. Ngl I'm still bitter to this day that a history teacher I reported for racist misconduct with multiple student witnesses over a long period of time is still teaching.
So it's good, actually, to be skeptical of your history teachers, textbooks, and curriculum, but the coverups are never about hidden lost civilizations or shadow governments. It's always about changing the narrative on violent acts in favor of those in social power, aka straight, cis, able-bodied white men. It's never about burying the lead on secret information, it's always about hiding the bodies and relocating the knife to make the murderers look like the good guys.
#I'm sorry I may have burnt out on teaching as a career#but I still feel very passionately about education#so pardon the long addition#question what you're taught in history class#if you live in a colonized country it's a good chance 90% of the nice stories#of native/colonist interactions are fabricated altered or missing context
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Antigonism
ANTIGONE: I'll do my duty to my brother - and yours as well, if you're not prepared to. I won't be caught betraying him.
What is antigonism?
Antigonism is a transfeminist mode of thought specifically for transfems that embrace solidarity with other trans people, as well as those who are intersex and the queer community in general, under the belief that it's vital to recognize we're all equally oppressed and capable of doing lateral harm to one another
Beliefs of antigonistic transfems include but are not limited to:
accepting that transandrophobia exists
being mindful of exorsexism
not policing the terms that intersex people use for themselves
awareness that other AMAB people can present as feminine without being some kinna insult to us
recognizing that racial hegemony and the cishetpatriarchy are radically different systems of oppression and any comparison between the two, while possible, must be made with exceptional care
rejecting the "reclamation" of radical feminism
finding it appalling to demand that other trans people define themselves as privileged for not experiencing the same things as us - especially when they do in fact experience much of what is commonly, inexplicably cited as unique to transfems.
Isn't that just trans unity?
Trans unity is also great! But I feel like transfems who explicitly reject trans radical feminism could do with a word that is more forceful and specific. Some would prefer that this just be considered the default, and the vocal minority of people who think transfems are oppressed by other trans people should simply be treated as weirdos out of step with the rest of us, but I think there's value in making a strong statement with a term like this.
I've seen a lot of people who legitimately feel like shit because the vocal minority has been so loudly terrible that it's affecting how comfortable they are with random transfems whose opinions they don't know. I understand the temptation to just say they need to touch grass or whatever, but even aside from the fact that things like anti-transmasculinity within the community isn't purely limited to discourse on a dying social media website, I feel like that's blaming them for their reaction to being treated cruelly. I think antigonism could help drill in that there are tons of transfems who back them up, and that they don't need to search for keywords to know that person is safe.
Because, like, that happens to me, too. So many times I've seen a post I really liked and thought was insightful, only to have my distrustful nature lead me to doing such a search before reblogging and being gravely disappointed with the results. That fucking sucks, yall.
Why "antigonism"?
In the legends of Ancient Greece, Oedipus had two sons. One of them, Polynices, would eventually go on to wage war upon his brother, Eteocles, the king of Thebes. There were many telling of the story, some in which Polynices had a very good reason for doing so and some where he didn't.
Polynices and Eteocles both killed each other in the war, but Creon, who took power after, unilaterally declared that Polynices was a traitor. Antigone, the daughter of Oedipus, however, simply does not give a fuck what Polynices did or did not do. When Creon orders that any who try to bury Polynices will be put to death, she proudly does so anyway.
The most famous teller of Oedipus's family history, Sophocles, wrote a play about the war, but it's lost to time and so we know nothing definite about what version of events is canon to Sophocles' play starring the titular Antigone. Considering that the whole point of Creon's character is his dogmatic clinging to law over sense, his assessment of Polynices as being in the wrong for going against authority doesn't clear things up.
I emphasize this because I don't want to seem like I'm framing other trans people - transmascs especially - as requiring forgiveness for some vague past sin. Quite the opposite, just as they treat us as their sisters in spite of that minority of transfems who are awful to them, we must recognize that they're often the first to shut down transmisogynists amongst themselves. Ultimately the point of Antigone's actions in defying the law to honor her brother is that things like that are entirely irrelevant. The fact that the person accusing Polynices of being evil is a jackass, and we know there were versions of the story where Eteocles had it coming, is even more reason to look past his "crime."
ANTIGONE: I owed it to him. CREON: I had forbidden it. ANTIGONE: I owed it to him. CREON: Polynices was a rebel and a traitor, and you know it. ANTIGONE: He was my brother.
Does that mean we should not call out other trans people who are transmisogynistic or otherwise treat trans women badly? Of course not. But we have no more right to abandon or spit on them than they do us, which so many of them refuse to do in spite of the hostility they've often faced. To be an antigonist is to believe that we can do no less for those who do so much for us, and the creation of the term is intended not to spur more to do that so much as to give a name to those who've already been doing that.
Finally, I understand that the plot of Antigone revolving around Polynice's burial might feel grim. Critically, however, Antigone ultimately dies as well.
ISMENE: I must yield to those in authority. I think it is dangerous business to be always meddling. ANTIGONE: You have made your choice, you can be what you want to be. But I will bury him, and if I must die, I say that this crime is holy. I shall lie down with him in death, and I shall be as dear to him as he to me.
We are oppressed by the same forces. We are allies in the same fight. We are friends, lovers, and family. An antigonist is a transfem who believes that all trans people will live together and die together. We are committed to sharing the same fate with our siblings, one way or another. Antigonists see us all as bound together, headed for the same destination, and we would not for a second ever want it to be otherwise no matter where that road leads.
One more thing!
Even if this terminology doesn't catch on, I hope this effort means something to anyone who sees this. <3 Your sisters do love you, I promise.
#transandrophobia#transmisogyny#exorsexism#intersexism#homophobia#trans women#transfem#trans men#transmasc
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Hello,
So I was wondering, would you be able to write something about cock-warming with Seventeen? If not OT13, then maybe just Hoshi?
This is my first time making a request and I absolutely love your writing! I look forward to seeing your new posts every time I open the app!
Thank you 😊
cock warming with seventeen
seungcheol: he’s gritting his teeth, telling you to “sit still” ina scolding tone. man is holding on for dear life, hands on your hips, fully committed to the whole “stay still” command even though he’s just as worked up. he gives you this look that says “one wrong move and it’s over”—yet he’s lowkey loving how hard it is to keep himself together. eventually, you shift just a little and he’s like, “oh, you think you’re funny, huh?” ready to wreck you right then and there.
jeonghan: he’s the absolute worst tease about it. why would you choose HIM to do that? he got that little smirk, acting all unbothered, whispering about how needy you look just sitting there on him. he’ll brush his fingers over your hips, trailing them up your spine just to mess with you. every time you try to move, he’s like, “uh-uh, baby, stay still.” you know he’s having fun watching you squirm, and he’s definitely making it as drawn-out as possible.
joshua: gives you sweet little smiles while low-key dying inside. he’s got that hand on the small of your back, running his fingers there just to keep you close. he’ll whisper all these sweet nothings, telling you how “perfect” you are, and every time you clench or move a little, he shudders, just waiting for the second he can actually move.
junhui: oh, he’s got no patience. he’s sitting there, already hard as hell, and you’re making it worse with every tiny shift. he laughs it off, biting his lip, telling you you’re “gonna regret testing him.” jun’s the type to nudge your hips a little, just to get a reaction, muttering stuff like, “if you keep doing that, don’t blame me for what happens.” he’s a mess and doesn’t even last.
hoshi: he’s like, “why did we even think this was a good idea?” wiggling around, not even pretending to keep still. every little movement makes him lose it just a bit more, and he’s already breathing heavy, wet as fuck. you both know he’s absolutely hopeless at staying still, but the boy’s trying, just loving the fact that you’re driving him up the wall.
wonwoo: he’s calm on the outside, hands steady on your hips, acting like it’s all fine and dandy, but you can feel that bro is almost melting in that game chair. every time you move, he’s biting the inside of his cheek, giving you these intense, dark-eyed looks like, “don’t test me.” he’ll stay like that as long as he can, but little to go snapping.
woozi: this man is a brick wall, hands locked around your waist, practically daring you to move. he’s got a total death grip on his self-control but gives himself away every time he swallows hard or clenches his jaw. determined to make you stay still until he’s ready.
minghao: so de-stressed, it’s unreal. he’s got his hands tracing gentle circles on your back, just enjoying the closeness but totally into it. every time you shift, he just hums, getting more and more fired up. you can tell he’s feeling it, breathing deeper, pressing you closer, but he’ll still try to play it off. he’s in no rush but is totally giving in soon.
mingyu: man’s a mess, plain and simple. he’s holding onto your hips with his nails almsot, wide-eyed and flustered as hell. he tries to be the big and strong boyy he is, but every little move makes him gulp, giving you these desperate, needy looks. probably ends up blurting, about how much he needs to fuck you.
seokmin: so flustered, you’d think it’s his first time. he’s trying to stay calm, keeping his hands on your hips to keep you in place, but he can’t help it; every time you shift, he’s turning red, letting out little gasps, unable to keep himself from reacting. he’s all, “oh my god, please, just—stay still!”
seungkwan: so worked up, it’s ridiculous. he’s like, “this was the worst idea ever babe!” but his hands are glued to you, like he couldn’t move even if he wanted to. he’s torn between panic and total enjoyment, all red-faced and muttering how he’s “seriously trying here.” you can tell he’s struggling, giving you little pleading looks.
vernon: silent but done for. he’ll just sit there, eyes wide, hardly breathing as he holds onto you, doing his best to stay in control but you can see the struggle. every little movement you make has him gripping your hips harder, like he’s hanging on by a thread. probably mutters, “you’re evil,” under his breath, fully aware he’s about to cum like this.
chan: incredibly sweet, probably nervous but also very into it. he’ll laugh softly, maybe trying to make small talk just to keep both of you calm, but the longer you stay like that, the more it drives him crazy. he’ll whisper, asking if you’re okay, gently reminding you to stay still but clearly enjoying when you clench or ride him a bit, especially when you both start to give in a little. BUUUUUT—he waits for you to break first.
#seventeen reactions#seventeen imagines#seventeen headcanons#seventeen scenarios#seventeen#svt imagines#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt smut#seungcheol smut#jeonghan smut#joshua smut#junhui smut#hoshi smut#wonwoo smut#woozi smut#minghao smut#mingyu smut#seokmin smut#seungkwan smut#vernon smut#chan smut#dino smut#soonyoung smut#jihoon smut#scoups smut#the8 smut#dokyeom smut
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Learning more and more there is no "together". Life is a beautiful and horribly stressful collection of moving parts and shifting things and all you really can do is try and make the best day you can.
Sometimes if I look at everything in my life, my partner's life, the world, and I feel like I'm drowning. Now I'm not the only one. And i know that if I stay there, looking down at everything that is,could've been, wants that never manifested and needs that were never met, I could get lost in it all forever.
But at some point, you know there are things you can't change and things you can't do or didn't, but you can't go back. You have today and these moments, and I've really begun to learn to live, or enjoy, the moment, the present. You can't change how much you hurt and wasted 7 yrs of your life being hurt, but you can pause and choose a little bit of peace for today.
And I mean this for goals too, you can achieve almost anything if it's genuine. If you wanted to paint and never learned how, do it now. Make your paint from mud if you don't have the money to buy paint, but make yourself a fucking masterpiece. Write music and do whatever you want with it. Make creepy short films on your phone that you may or may not ever publish. Enjoy the doing and the feeling of choosing you, of choosing the action of love, because you cannot love something if you regret it, and I don't think ppl should carry this regret around. Take a moment to be proud of even the 'small' accomplishments.
There is always hope, every and any day, and we all are doing the same thing, trying to find out how not to carry the weight of regrets with us wherever we go. (Except maybe that 1 person who definitely has it figured out, we don't know what to say about them. They probably don't have laundry to do when they get home either. This is irrelevant. )
Anyways no one asked for this sorry to rant on ur post I'll stop talking sending love
everyone from childhood seems to have carved out a life for themselves. i still feel 15 and completely hopeless
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I don’t know if you’ve got this already but what about MC being the boss of the mafia Bad Sanses?
Villainous devotion is the only love I want
With you in charge, Dust is a different beast entirely. You might recall from the previous mafia posts that Dust doesn't want to be under Nightmare's command, so he does precisely what's required of him, nothing more and nothing less. Well... now, he's got a reason to remain. The one calling the shots is someone he loves and admires. He's not just your confidant and secret keeper, he's your secret weapon, the one you send when the job is so important you need to guarantee success. When you want a whole room of 'problems' dispatched so quickly and so silently no one even notices they're dead for several hours. Some say love and LOVE don't mix, but... Dust disagrees.
Horror is definitely not as clean as Dust, let's say that. And he requires a little more affection. But sometimes, unclean is exactly what you want, sometimes a message needs to be loud and clear, and what could be clearer than blood? There's no one he can't find for you, no scent he can't follow back to the source. Dust is precise but Horror is sudden and unstoppable, he strikes a real, tangible fear into everyone. He's a force of nature and he's perfect if you need the world to know you aren't to be trifled with. When he's not ripping people into pieces for you, he's baking! He loves providing for the people he cares for. And when he's visiting Crooks, you're always free to join him and his brother for dinner.
If mindless devotion were a person, it would look like Killer. The others go out and cause scenes, but he stays in and causes scenes, staying close by and warding away any embarrassments that besmirch the good title of 'assassin'. If you want him to go stretch his legs and kill someone, he'll do so happily, but his favourite place is wherever you are. He often seems unaware and silly and borderline clumsy... but it's a front. If anyone thinks they've snuck up on either of you, they are gravely (hah) mistaken. His dark sockets make it impossible to tell where he's looking, and he'll have spotted someone long before they make a move. He's heard many insults - people frequently call him your lap dog. It only bugs him because he's a cat person.
You'd think Nightmare wouldn't do well in the number two position. Considering his history and family feud. But it was never the act of being 'second' that irked him so much - it was feeling invisible, unappreciated, unrecognised. You very much make him feel appreciated. He's your right hand, and he's a damn powerful one, his iron fist solves any issues you may have with not being respected as a small human in an underworld of monsters. He's had proverbial skin in this game far longer than you have, his resources and knowledge are vast, you greatly value his advice and insight. People often mistake him for the boss... he takes great pleasure in correcting them. no, that would be my beloved. He can be the moon to your sun. That suits him just fine.
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BoB's: Bucktommy fans are fetishists. Also BoB's: "Ryliver are conjoined blowjob brothers."
BoB's: Tommy is too gay. Also BoB's: Eddie "flipping through a swimsuit magazine in front of Buck" Diaz IS GAY and if you don't agree you're homophobic.
BoB's: Bucktommy fans only care about their ship so they're not real fans. Also BoB's: 500 of us signed a petition to get the showrunner fired when she didn't give us Buddie.
BoB's: Buddies are constantly attacked by Bucktommy fans. Also BoB's: I have no evidence I'm being attacked and I also didn't speak out against the f** slurs, homophobic hate posts, and death threats against LFJ and BT fans. Not my problem.
BoB's: Buddie WILL be canon season 8! Also BoB's: Not in the last episode though, and not in the next episode, but definitely in two episodes after that. I promise. Probably.
BoB's: How dare you criticize RG after he's shared about his mental health struggles. Also BoB's: I'm going to shoot myself in front of Tim if we don't get what we want and also, you should die in a fire LFJ, who I made sure to tag so he'd know I want him dead.
BoB's: Bucktommy fans stan a racist and misogynists. Also BoB's: Lalalala I can't hear you over the sound of me cutting POC out of Buddie photos and review bombing a hugely important episode for a young black actor. Oh and what racist livestream that my fav made? Never heard of it.
BoB's: Bucktommy fans are ruining the fandom! Also BoB's: How about more than a hundred of us spam the IG comments with almost identical hateful comments.
And now we can add:
BoBs: Oliver wasn't even tagged in my post!! Ryliver canon!!! Oliver mew mew boy you ain't slickkkkkk
Also BoBs: I'm only a wittle 19 year old gurl... stop bullying me, Mr. Stark!!
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lover boy - steve harrington
Modern College AU
Frat King! Steve Harrington x female! Reader
Masterlist
Steve Harrington Masterlist
Summary:
You absolutely do not want to see Steve tonight, but your friends convince you to go to his frat’s big party anyway. This is definitely not going to end badly.
Warnings:
Smut (18+), p in v, rough sex, sort of mean!Steve but also not at all, drinking
Word Count: 3,396
A/N:
I’m interested in writing more about frat Steve if y’all like this and want more! Requests are open :)
—
“Oh, come on,” your friend, Kayla, said. “It’s going to be fun.”
You weren’t so sure. It’s not that you didn’t like going to college parties, because you definitely did, it’s just that this one was being thrown at a specific frat house. At his frat house.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I just don’t know.”
Your other friend, Jenna, spoke up then. “There’s gonna be so many people there, you probably won’t even see him.” She attempted to reassure you. You didn’t really believe it, but you wanted to make your friends happy.
“Okay. Okay. I’ll go.”
Kayla and Jenna both began screaming then, both of them wrapping their arms around you which made you laugh.
“It’s going to be amazing,” Kayla said, absolutely beaming. “This is supposed to be, like, the party of the year.”
—
You, Kayla, and Jenna all crowded into your dorm room to get ready for the party that night. Your entire closet was on your bed by the time you were dressed, since your friends wanted to see every option possible before you decided on an outfit. You ended up in a cute new top you’d bought recently and a short skirt. You felt hot, at least.
Your friends looked equally hot. You all crowded into the mirror together as you pulled your cell phone out and took a photo, all three of you smiling. You posted it on your story before the three of you left.
Living on campus, the frat house wasn’t far away. You all decided to drive in Kayla’s car anyways because none of you wanted to walk blocks in your outfits.
The three of you sang along to music loudly as Kayla drove, the excitement for the party already high. You were the only one who couldn’t relax and just be happy, your mind racing about whether you’d see him there. You felt like you would - how could you not? He was president of the whole fraternity. You regretted letting your friends talk you into this, but at the same time, you didn’t want to let him ruin yet another night.
The party was already going strong when you pulled up to the house. The lawn was dotted with drunk college students, empty red cups all over. The three of you linked arms as you walked up to the front door, always a unit.
You had to separate as soon as you walked into the house, however, the crowd pushing in at you on all sides. You tried your best to form a hand holding train to the kitchen, which worked well enough.
You laughed as the three of you stumbled into the kitchen, and you grabbed three red solo cups, handing one to each of your friends. You made your drink strong, you knew you’d need it tonight.
You were pleasantly surprised at how well the night started. You didn’t see him, you didn’t run too close to any of his asshole friends. You started your night getting tipsy and dancing with Kayla and Jenna, but of course they each ended up being pulled off by some guy, and you were left alone. You’d had multiple guys approach you, but you weren’t interested. You had just wanted to hang out with your girls tonight.
You found yourself heading back into the kitchen for another drink refill. You would have to come up with a new plan for the night since your friends had been distracted.
You poured another strong drink in your cup, taking a big sip immediately. You were already feeling pretty loose and comfortable, after this drink you felt like you’d be having a really good time.
Tommy found you in the kitchen, which wasn’t ideal, but he had Carol with him so you weren’t too upset. The couple practically cornered you, and you ended up in a conversation with them as you finished your drink. By the time you were done you really were having an amazing time, laughing so hard your stomach hurt at some story Tommy was telling.
“I wanna go dance now,” Carol said, rubbing her hand over Tommy’s chest. He looked down at her hand before meeting her eyes again, giving her a smirk.
“You got it, baby,” he said, grabbing her hand. “See you around,” he said to you with a nod.
“You should come dance, too!” Carol called as her boyfriend dragged her off.
You didn’t think that sounded like a terrible idea. You tossed your cup in the trash can as you walked - you were plenty tipsy for now and you’d just get another one if you wanted another drink.
Back on the makeshift dance floor, you let yourself feel the music, dancing alone. Carol smiled at you from across the floor, and you giggled back at her. You were feeling incredible.
The feeling of large hands on your hips and someone’s body pressing up behind you took you by surprise, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You danced on this mystery guy, grinding your ass back against his hips. You thought maybe you’d found your entertainment for the evening, until you heard that voice in your ear.
“Hey, pretty lady,” Steve hummed in your ear as he danced against you, pushing the bulge in his jeans up against your ass. His fingertips teased up your bare thighs, slightly pushing up your already tiny skirt.
You had done so well avoiding him all night, and now here he was, as close to you as he could get, his hands trailing under your skirt. And you weren’t pushing him away. Your skin tingles everywhere he touches. It always went the same way with him.
“Steve…” you breathed out, continuing to dance slowly to the music. Steve’s grip tightened on your body.
“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me…” he said, his voice low and right in your ear. He caressed your thighs as he danced against you, pulling you tightly against his own hips.
“No,” you lied, a blush rising to your cheeks that you were glad he couldn’t see. “I just didn’t see you.”
“Well here I am,” he said, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. Yeah, here he was.
“I’ve missed you,” he continued to purr in your ear. “You haven’t been texting me back.”
You fought back the urge to sigh. “You know why, Steve.”
Steve laughed lowly against your neck, his hands moving up to grip your hips and guide you back against him. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous.”
Steve liked to play games. You swore to yourself and your friends that you were over him, and you weren’t going back to him again. He was no good for you, he only ever wanted to fuck and then act like he doesn’t even know you at school. Yet every time you came face to face with him, you fell back into him every time.
You didn’t respond to Steve. You kept dancing on him instead, grinding your ass back against him until you could feel just how hard he was through his jeans.
He wasn’t shy about moving his hands wherever he wanted to go, starting from your hips up and over your stomach and breasts, then back down to feel your bare thighs again, hands reaching beneath your skirt until fingertips traced lightly over your panties.
You gasped at the feeling. You were suddenly aware of how exposed you were.
“Not here…” you mumbled back to him, hoping he could hear you over the blaring music.
You felt him grin against your neck. “Wanna go up to my room, then?”
You should have said no. You were going to say no. At least that’s what you tell yourself. In reality, you didn’t hesitate before you were nodding your head, which only made Steve grin wider.
He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, before pulling you through the party and up the stairs. You caught Jenna’s attention for a moment as Steve dragged you off, and she gave you a wide eyed look that said, Really?, to which you could only shrug. She shook her head at you as you followed Steve upstairs.
You had been in his room many times before, so this was nothing new. He locked the door behind you, turning to you with that cocky smile on his face.
“Did you wear this tiny little thing for me?” he asked as he walked right up on you, his fingers toying with the hem of your mini skirt.
“No,” you responded with a scoff. “What, I can’t want to look cute without it being for you?”
“Who else do you wanna impress?” he asked, chuckling darkly. He slid his hands beneath your skirt, cupping your ass in his large hands and squeezing.
“I’m not trying to impress anyone,” you huffed, but then Steve was leaning down and before you knew it his lips were on yours. You hesitated for only a second before you kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck. He felt you up as he kissed you, his hands continuing to feel your ass and play with the hem of your panties.
He pushed your panties down your legs, and you stepped out of them and kicked them away when you felt them hit the ground. He groaned, his hands having full access to wherever he wanted now.
He felt around your smooth legs, one hand sliding around your front until he was slipping a finger between your folds, feeling how slick you were already.
“So wet for me,” he groaned against your lips. “You always act like you don’t want me anymore, but your pussy always begs for me.”
He circled around your clit with a single fingertip and you leaned your head back, letting out a sigh of pleasure. Steve took the opportunity to attack your neck, biting and sucking at your skin before soothing it with his kisses. You figured he’d be leaving marks again. You knew you’d regret letting him do it tomorrow, but for now it just felt so good.
Steve moved his hands back up to your hips, then slid them up your sides, feeling the skin beneath your shirt until he was pulling it over your head and tossing it aside. He undid your bra with expert fingers, then he cupped your breasts with his hands, thumbs rubbing over your hardening nipples.
You tangled your hands in his perfectly styled hair, messing it all up. He didn’t complain as he moved back up to kiss you again, his tongue tracing along your lips until you let him in. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue pressed against yours as he kissed you deeply, making him smile into the kiss.
He pulled away from you with a smack to your ass. “Get on your hands and knees for me, baby.”
You moved to push your skirt down your legs, but he stopped you.
“No. I think I like the skirt,” he said, a smirk on his lips.
You smiled to yourself as you climbed onto his bed on your hands and knees, lowering your upper half to lay on his soft sheets, the side of your face pressed into the mattress.
Steve groaned in approval, flipping your skirt up and rubbing a hand over your ass as he took in the view. He gave it another harsh slap, causing you to jerk forward and moan out at the feeling.
You heard him quickly undressing himself. His shirt hitting the floor, his belt unbuckling and zipper coming undone as he pushed his jeans and boxers down.
You felt his hands on your hips as he positioned himself behind you, his hard cock grazing against your thigh as he adjusted himself.
You closed your eyes in anticipation, subconsciously moving your hips back against him, wanting to feel him inside you immediately.
He smacked your ass again, and you let out a mix between a yell and a moan.
“Always so eager for me…” he mumbled, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock and giving himself a couple quick strokes. He rubbed his tip between your glistening folds, coating his dick in your wetness.
You gasped when you felt him against your entrance, but you barely had time to think about it before he was thrusting in without warning, filling you completely in a second.
You screamed his name, your fists balling into the sheets, looking for some kind of leverage over the intense pleasure and slight pain from the stretch of him. Steve had a big dick, and he knew it.
You could hear the smirk in his voice even as he praised you, setting a brutal pace as he thrusted into your pussy. “Taking me so well, baby. She’s so fucking tight, every time for me.”
You moaned as he fucked you mercilessly, your eyes rolling back in your head and you thought you might also be drooling. Your brain was already hazy from the pleasure, when Steve reached forward, grabbing onto your shoulder so he could pull you back on his cock harder and faster.
You didn’t know if you could take much more of this. You felt your orgasm building fast, just from the perfect way he was fucking you. You felt like you had lost your mind and the only thing that was left was Steve and the way he was making you feel.
Steve grunted as he thrusted into you harshly while also pulling your body against his hips with every movement. His head dropped forward, hair hanging in his face, as he groaned loudly.
“Fuck, baby…” he panted out. “You have the perfect fucking cunt. I’ve never fucked a pussy this good, I swear to god.”
You whined at the compliment, arching your back as he took everything he wanted from your body. And you were happy to let him do it.
Steve reached one hand around your body to rub quick circles against your clit. You were already close just from his dick, so when you felt his touch you cried out, eyes closing hard and desperate moans spilling from your lips as you came hard around his cock. You tensed around him, making him groan loudly as he only pounded into you faster, chasing his own release.
“Yeah…that’s it, good girl,” he grunted out as he leaned his whole body over you. He rutted into you nearly desperately at this point, his grip on your hip tightening until you were sure it would leave a bruise.
“Fuck…gonna cum,” he groaned, and you felt his thrusts becoming more frantic and sloppy. “Can I cum inside?”
“Yes,” you answered him immediately. “Please. I’m good. I want you to.” You were practically begging him, it was your favorite way for him to finish and you felt like you needed it desperately.
Steve moaned, moving his hand up to grab your hair as he buried his face in your neck, thrusting into your pussy from behind at that brutal pace until he pushed in one last time, moaning your name before he groaned as he filled you deeply. You felt the warmth of him deep inside you and you whined, pushing your hips back against him as if wanting more even though you were both now utterly spent.
Steve tried to catch his breath as he laid over you. Realizing you were probably uncomfortable with all his weight on you, he carefully pulled out, rolling onto his side next to you.
Your body felt used in the best way. You ached, both from and for him. You were always insatiable when it came to Steve, that was one of your many problems.
Steve stood, pulling his boxers and jeans back on. You still hadn’t even moved from your position on your stomach, feeling like your body was made of jelly.
“You should get cleaned up and get back out there,” he said, pulling his shirt on over his head. He ran his hands through his hair, trying to fix it.
You looked over at him. You always wished he’d stay, even just for a little while. Cuddle a little, maybe. But this was King Steve and he didn’t do things like that.
You lifted your aching body from the bed, feeling a little embarrassed as you had to nakedly hunt for your clothes on the floor. You found your top, but couldn’t find your panties anywhere until Steve tossed them to you with a smirk.
“I would have kept them, but with that little thing,” he eyed your skirt hungrily, like he wanted to get beneath it again, “I think you need ‘em more than I do.”
You blushed, sliding your panties back on. “You’re a pig.”
Steve laughed, leaning over to look at himself in the mirror attached to his dresser. He fixed his hair a little more, and then he was heading to the door.
“Take your time in here,” he said, unlocking and opening the door. He slipped through, careful not to expose your still topless form to anyone in the hallway. He looked back at you before he fully left. “I’ll text you,” he said, giving you a wink, and then he was gone.
You sighed as you pulled the rest of your clothes back on. You felt the same way you always did after you ended up sleeping with Steve again - guilty, angry at yourself. But also longing for more from him, which was probably the part of yourself you hated the most.
You slipped out of his bedroom, straightening your clothes and hair. You managed to get back to the party undetected.
You swore that you weren’t going to let Steve ruin your night, and you didn’t plan to let that change even though you’d fucked him again.
You went back into the kitchen, making yourself another drink. Steve was across the room, leaning against the wall and talking to a group of people hanging on his every word. This included at least three girls, one of which was literally hanging on his arm.
You rolled your eyes and walked into the living room, drinking from your cup as you walked. You wanted to get drunk now, forget all about Steve. Again.
Jenna caught your eye as you entered the room, and she left the guy she’d been with the whole night to run over and grab your arm.
“What the fuck was that?” she hissed at you, not wanting the whole party to hear. “Did you fuck him again?”
The look on your face was answer enough. Jenna sighed and looked at you like she was disappointed, which made you feel terrible.
“Come on, girl. I love you. You need to respect yourself more than that.”
You knew she was right, but you didn’t want to think about it anymore. You tugged on her hand. “I don’t want to talk about him. Come on, come dance with me.”
She looked at you strangely as she let you lead her to the dance floor. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, concerned.
“I’m great,” you assured her, a smile plastered to your lips. “I just want to have fun tonight, okay?”
She looked at you for a few seconds longer, but then she gave in, sighing and squeezing your hand. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s dance.”
You smiled gratefully at her, and the two of you started dancing along to the music. The current song ended, and the one that came on next happened to be your friend group’s favorite. You both laughed and began singing along, Kayla running from wherever she had been all night to join in dancing with you.
You didn’t need Steve or any guy to have a good time. Even though you let him in again, let yourself be let down by him again, you could push that out of your mind. Right?
He watched you from across the room as you danced with your friends. You could feel his eyes burning into you, but you only allowed yourself to look up once, only for a moment. He turned his attention back to the girl he was talking to the second your eyes met, but you saw him.
You were tired of stressing over Steve. Fuck Steve.
Whatever. You were going to have fun. The night was still young.
#steve harrington#steve#stranger things#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#stranger things smut#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington blurb#joe keery#keeryhours writes#steve harrington x you#steve harrington angst#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve stranger things#stranger things x reader#steve harrington x y/n#stranger things imagine#frat!steve#frat boy! steve harrington#frat! steve harrington
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[since everything under a Read More cut gets deleted in case a blog deletes/gets deleted and the WayBackMachine isn’t so good with pictures, for Archive Purposes only, I will add the most important bits of the full post and have also checked/updated all the source links] Part 1 - Engaged
December 2010, X factor Video Diary week 9 (video)
You sure would, Louis.
February 2011, Harry’s "I think i wanna marry you" tweet (x)
September 2011, “I met One Direction” (x)
[...] The journey is getting interesting.
November 2011, Dome 60 interview (video)
I love that Zayn, as soon as he hears that, turns his head to look at Louis, even before Harry.
I think that at this point they had at least discussed the possibility to marry in the future. Bringing up the topic of marriage for the first time, in public, would have been a risky move otherwise.
March 2012, Kiss 95.7 interview (x) [note: Harry had already been gifted his dark silver "Promise/engagement ring" by Louis by this point]
They are asked what they would name their future daughters and Harry says Darcy. Then Louis looks at Harry and says he hadn’t thought of it, Harry says "Whoops!" and Liam laughs. They definitely act like two people who discussed their future together, who are committed to each other (..but never talked before about the name of their children. Oops.)
April 2012, ZMTV interview (source video nowhere to be found anymore)
They are asked who would get married first and Harry says that you would think Liam, but in fact Louis is the dark horse in the race. Eager much, Harry?
October 2012, One Direction with Cauet on NRJ (x)
They are asked if they get a lot of marriage proposals, and that's Harry's answer. I have nothing further to add. I'm just going to hide in a corner and cry. [hint hint, dark silver ring *eyebrow waggle*]
December 2012, Barbara Walters interview (video)
The moment that killed us all. [She asks: "Do you all wanna be married and have children?" and] They say that they want to marry and have kids, and then they look at each other, smiling and blushing, like the leading characters of a romantic comedy. [...]
Speaking of:
[TWO OR THREE KIDS, i'm GONNA CRY. PLEASE. i wish this for them so much! ;______; ]
July 2013, Twitter Questions (x) [note: by this point Louis has already gifted Harry his Peace Ring, which is strongly believed to be an engagement/wedding ring and Harry is wearing it to this day (2024)]
Niall says “But, nothing happens when you’re under 21." and Harry very quietly says: “You can get married.” and then he says again, a bit louder: “You can still get married, Niall!” Ok, Harry has clearly done his homework.
August 2013, CQC Brazil interview (x)
So, Louis goes "Marriage, sex, kissing, everything, the lot." with someone who looks like Harry. Ok, we got it!
August 2013, Capital FM Interview (x) The interviewer congratulates Zayn on being the first to pop up the question.
[...] Those little shits. They’re already engaged! Their faces when the interviewer says that is priceless. And Louis' smirk makes me think he was the one proposing to Harry. [considering what happens the following month.. 9/28/13.. WELL]
Besides, Louis, who are you looking at?
continued in part 2!
“Even as young as you are?”. Or, Harry and Louis are engaged to be married. A masterpost
This is a journey in time. A journey in the love story between HarryandLouis and marriage. From the openness to dialogue in the earlier days, to a commitment and finally, i think, to a formal engagement.
Keep reading
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The Rocky Port incident... (2)
was trending in Japan last night, so here's a post magazine release follow-up.
I was looking forward to hearing japanese readers' thoughts, but the source text itself is pretty vague which didn't help them either.
At least now the JP version is available, so I tried my hand on translating it as literally as possible.
Here's a simplified summary from Japanese user @manganouA (x) :
Just a clarification that "Hachinosu" and "Pirate Island", "Wang Zhi" and "Ochoku" are used interchangeably.
A common interpretational agreement is that Law definitely got onboard the wrong ship, and very likely the ship wasn't even going to Hachinosu. Artur's translation was incorrect, Law didn't board the smuggling ship. Pew's team updated their translation with Artur's version, even though their initial interpretation was right.
Law gained information that a smuggling ship heading to Hachinosu used a specific Kingdom's flag as their cover, and mistakenly hopped onboard a REAL ship belonging to that Kingdom- full of passengers and the King himself. The level of catastrophic clumsiness you'd expect from Luffy...
Man scratch that. it was clumsy even for Luffy's standard 😔
Another point to note, the term used to describe Law-Koby-BB combo was "共闘する形", so a combative pact is more appropriate than an alliance (同盟) - which was used for Law's pact with Luffy, and later Kidd (vs Big Mom). Nothing unexpected though.
My entire timeline is people cracking jokes about Law's blunder so I'm cherry picking a few of them.
Law: Crap, I blew it up... This is the wrong ship isn't it? (Cora ghost: Gee, Law... you're also the clumsy type aren't you?)
Zen (@GOKUJOUNOMAGURO) (x). (x)
Blackbeard arrives on luxurious Saber of Xebec, Koby arrives on a naval ship, and Trafalgar Law is somehow on a passenger's ship.
No matter how big of a mistake I make in future, I might be able to console myself thinking, "well, even Law kun got on a wrong ship."
Koby: Misunderstanding? What do you mean? No matter how you look at it, it's an act of terrorism against a Kingdom!
Law: How annoying... I'm in a state of confusion myself! I've no time to deal with the marines.
I got onboard a wrong ship!!!
Koby (after having Alvida flashback): I see. What a disaster, my heart goes out to you. Let's call it a temporary truce and defeat Ochoku first.
Law: You're convinced?!
.
My favorite has to be this low - effort comic summarizing their understanding:
"Rocky Port spinoff" was another buzzing keyword last night, I hope Shueisha is taking notes.
#@y'all who HC law on crack pre timeskip - maybe you were onto something#he gave up on crack after this incident#btw what does oda mean law “hijacked the ship” and also “hid himself” - because you either lurk or you hijack?#I wasn't sure if it was just me but I've seen japanese twt wondering the same#also#maybe it's just my timeline but I haven't seen any discussion about law's quest for poneglyph#priorities...#one piece#trafalgar law#trafalgar d. water law#one piece koby#monkey d. luffy#one piece translations#stray translations#mine#donquixote rosinante#one piece Bepo#heart pirates
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easy mode
pairing: lee heeseung x f reader
genre: brother's best friend au
word count: 2.9k
warnings: not explicit but veeeery suggestive, alcohol consumption, swearing, lots and lots of jealousy aka very bthb coded
note: Another reupload! I wrote another ~3k of sacred monsters today and saw this in my drafts and realized I never posted it. If you read it before, I hope you like it just as much! If you haven't, I hope you enjoy!
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Lee Heeseung likes to do things the easy way.
It’s not that he’s lazy, just... efficient. A fan of the path of least resistance. He knows how to pick his battles and does so sparingly.
Heeseung minds his own business, keeps his eyes on the path in front of him and rarely lets them stray. And he definitely, definitely never pokes his nose into other people’s problems.
It’s a philosophy that keeps his head on straight, that allows his friendships to remain low-maintenance and sans drama. It’s what’s kept Jay at his side for the last fifteen years, even through the trials and tribulations of elementary school playground altercations, puberty-fueled fights in the middle school locker room, and most recently, the frustrating misalignment of their post-graduation work schedules.
Four years ago, Heeseung thought a bachelor’s degree would be his ticket to success, not a soul-sucking nine-to-five that leaves him itching for a drink or three most Friday nights. Luckily for him, Jay’s in the same boat.
But tonight, sitting next to his best friend on his favorite slightly wobbly bar stool, Heeseung almost misses the monotony of their usual Friday evening happy hours.
He’s nursing his third beer, which would usually go down like cold water, even though time and tipsiness have turned it lukewarm. Tonight, though, Heeseung’s eyes keep wandering towards the same corner table just over Jay’s shoulder.
And every time they do, the muscle in his jaw strains a little further. The beer on his tongue tastes a little more bitter.
Heeseung hates making things complicated. He doesn’t get involved. He doesn’t. But–
“Are you gonna do something about that?”
On the adjacent bar stool, Jay glances at Heeseung. “About what?”
Heeseung just keeps his eyes trained on that table, that spot over Jay’s shoulder.
Picking up on the hint even through the pleasant haze in his mind, Jay turns his gaze to follow Heeseung’s nonverbal cue. It takes him only a matter of seconds to locate what has his best friend in such a mood. Or rather, who. Although Jay isn’t quite sure why.
He’s digging for clarification when he looks back at his friend. “What do you mean? Did she do something weird?” It wouldn’t be exactly unlike his younger sister to do something slightly embarrassing in public.
Heeseung’s jaw just tightens further, betraying annoyance. Finally, he puts words to his irritation, saves Jay from his suspense. “You’re gonna let that idiot put his hands all over your little sister in the middle of the bar?”
Jay frowns, turns over his shoulder once again to make sure he isn’t seeing things.
He’s not. From this angle, at least, Sunghoon’s hands are at a perfectly respectable distance from you. Not that Jay could do much about it either way.
He tells Heeseung as much. “What am I supposed to do? Drag her out by her ear and force her to join a convent? Ship her off to a girls only boarding school?”
Jay laughs humorlessly. He’s not exactly thrilled that you and your friends chose to patronize the same bar as him and Heeseung tonight, but he doesn’t want to linger on it either. In fact, he doesn’t want to do anything but forget his woes this evening, drown his sorrows in overpriced pints of whatever’s on tap.
He’s perfectly happy with his back turned towards you. Out of sight, out of mind and all that. “She’s twenty-two.”
And that wasn’t what Heeseung was suggesting exactly, but now that Jay mentions it…
“You’re okay with Park trying to play tonsil tennis with her then?”
“Dude,” Jay winces, setting his beer down on the bar, stomach suddenly queasy. “Gross. That’s still my little sister.”
Which is exactly the card Heeseung is hoping he’ll play. But all Jay does is sigh. If Heeseung didn’t know better, he’d think the exasperation was directed at him instead of the loser he’s pretty sure is currently trying to make himself Jay’s future brother-in-law.
Jay checks over his shoulder one final time for good measure. It confirms whatever he’s looking for. Mostly the fact that Park Sunghoon’s lips are too busy cracking mediocre jokes to be making sloppy passes at his sister in public.
Hoping to put it to rest once and for all, he turns back to Heeseung. “Besides, it’s Sunghoon,” Jay reasons. He finds it in himself to reach for his beer again. “She’s known him since preschool. He’s practically like a second brother to her.” Jay takes a sip, misreading the rise in Heeseung’s agitation as familial affection. Trying to soothe it over, he concedes with a nod, “Or third, I guess. I’ll let you be her second.”
Like always, Heeseung lets it go. He goes with the flow, rolls with the punches.
Well, at least on the outside.
But even if he weren’t so committed to never rocking the boat, this is hardly the time or place to correct Jay’s assumptions that his feelings towards you are anything but brotherly.
That, he decides, will have to be a revelation for another time. Preferably in a situation where Heeseung is well out of arm’s reach and Jay is in restraints of some sort.
Those, after all, are the only circumstances in which he could ever disclose just how decidedly not brotherly his feelings towards you are.
In fact, his feelings are a lot more aligned with that stupid game you used to make him play as kids. The one where you put on the white dress you’d gotten from your cousin as a hand-me-down, an assortment of grape juice, finger paint, and pasta sauce stains scattered along the hemline.
The one where you’d gather a bunch of dandelions from your overgrown backyard and call them a bouquet.
The one where you’d live out all your grandest six-year-old dreams of walking down the aisle towards a handsome prince with the latest Kidz Bop rendition of whatever love song was most popular on the radio crackling through the cheap speaker you stole from Jay’s bedroom.
The one where you’d drag Heeseung away from the player number two console, much to Jay’s unending annoyance, and force him to play the part of your groom. Even at six, you were a force to be reckoned with. An argument-winning fiend that even your older brother could rarely best in a fight.
Heeseung played along, more than anything, because he was scared to face your wrath if he declined. But he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t feel a little funny in his chest every time he watched you walk down a makeshift aisle made from your mother’s missing tablecloth.
So no, Heeseung doesn’t give a shit how long you’ve known Sunghoon. After all, what does Sunghoon know about your childhood dream to get married in a garden full of roses? Judging from the way it looks like he keeps trying to get you to take a sip of his drink, he doesn't even know you can’t stand the taste of Coke mixed with liquor.
But Heeseung knows. He was there the night you developed the aversion. The night you decided bottom shelf tequila and the soda you snuck from your parent’s fridge were your best friends for the evening after junior prom. The night he held your hair and rubbed soothing circles into the skin between your shoulders as it came back up a few hours later.
And he was there for the rest of it, too. All of the little moments, the big moments, and everything in between that spun the tapestry of your formative years.
The day you finally got your braces off and didn’t stop smiling for three weeks straight. The time you sprained your ankle trying to hide Jay’s favorite pair of sneakers in the alarmingly tall tree in your backyard. The night you cried for four hours straight when you found out Jake Sim from biology was a big, fat, liar that was indeed texting other girls for homework answers.
There may have been moments, tangled up in that swirling mix of memories, when Heeseung felt nothing but a brotherly sort of affection for you. A desire to protect you from the world and a distinct sort of pride when he inevitably failed and you rose to the challenge anyway.
But Heeseung also remembers what it felt like to stand across from you as you recited your six-year-old attempt at recreating marriage vows, and he thinks he never really stood a chance.
So tonight, glancing over Jay’s shoulder again, Heeseung watches as you lean a little further into Sunghoon, straining to hear him over the cacophony in the bar.
And the anger he feels in his gut is not brotherly in the slightest. Nor is the red, hot, scalding jealousy that burns his throat every time he forces himself to swallow it down.
Searching for a distraction, he busies himself with his beer once again, letting Jay’s unwanted evaluations fall to the wayside for the time being.
Immersed in the dregs of his own despair, he almost misses it. The flash of movement as you slide out from your seat next to Sunghoon.
His eyes track your movement with the quiet focus of a predator on the hunt, watching as you disappear around the corner.
Heeseung mumbles some excuse about needing to go to the bathroom that Jay only partially hears before he’s stepping off of his bar stool, beer forgotten on the counter behind him.
Your footsteps are easy to follow as he traces the predictable path you forge to the opposite corner of the bar. Heeseung’s bathroom excuse was a good one, he’s pleased to discover, once he realizes that’s precisely where he’ll be meeting you.
The line is long, but it moves quickly. Only a handful of minutes have passed when you emerge again. This time, Heeseung doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t give you the chance to walk back and make him watch you from a distance for the rest of the evening.
Doesn’t give you the chance to so much as look at Park Sunghoon again.
Instead, he wraps long fingers around the skin of your wrist, dragging you to the adjacent hallway where it’s empty, quiet. Secluded. Away from any wandering eyes or unwanted ears.
Any protests of yours are overtaken by surprise, and by the time you finally find them again, they’re replaced by questions.
Heeseung may be a captain of a steady ship, a firm believer in the merits of smooth sailing, but he’s never been able to resist the urge of liminal spaces like these. Moments with enough plausible deniability that Jay won’t have a reason to give him a bloody nose or threaten his life if he so much as looks at his little sister again. Exchanges that he hopes will linger with you long after the two of you have parted ways.
Desire for ambiguity aside, the position he puts you in is compromising no matter how you spin it. Your back against the wall, Heeseung leans over you, cages you in like he’s after something other than your answers.
Something more.
But the gap between your bodies is deliberate, a way for him to backtrack if the situation calls for it. An escape route if he needs it. He really, really hopes he won’t.
Your wrist is still in his grip, light but demanding, when he finally says, “Park Sunghoon? Really?”
He can’t help it, the way his words are warped with poorly disguised venom. He really cannot stand the guy.
“What?” You hope you can blame the obvious breathlessness in your voice on shock. “What are you–?”
Heeseung won’t leave you wondering for long. “You think he can handle you?” With the way you’re wrapped up in Heeseung’s hold, the challenge, the comparison, is apparent.
Your shock morphs. Hardens. Gaze narrowing, you relax a little into his grip.
Your words, however, remain combative. “Handle me? Am I a wild animal?” You scoff. “I don’t need to be han–”
And, oh, this is Heeseung’s favorite kind of tightrope. His very best balancing act. He loves it, thrives on it, revels in it.
This exchange of heated words that never go anyway but to your head. He hopes you’re seeing fucking stars.
Heeseung leans an inch closer. He’s breaching dangerous territory. He’ll blame it on the alcohol if he has to. Glancing at your eyes, holding your gaze, he doesn’t think he will.
“Who said anything about you needing it?” He’s so close that you feel his breath on your cheekbone, ghosting across your temple. It’s warm, leaves your skin tingling in its wake. “I’m talking about what you want.”
Something unreadable flickers through your gaze. If Heeseung didn’t know any better, he’d call it desire. But it disappears before he can name it, replaced with contempt. As if Heeseung is nothing but a pest, a fly to swat at until it stops buzzing. “Awful presumptuous, don’t you think?”
Heeseung only grins. He’s not like this, usually. Even when his intentions are less than pure. Just like everything else, he flirts in obvious ways. He doesn’t play games or speak in riddles or hope that subtleties will do the job for him.
But it’s just so easy with you. “I don’t know.” He leans in closer. “There are a few ways we could find out, though.”
If your breath stutters, you’ll disguise it as another scoff. “Pray tell.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” Heeseung inclines his head in a mockery of an apology. Pet names are another thing he keeps reserved for these stolen moments with you. Another exception to the rule that he refuses to examine further.
For a moment, he lets his eyes do what they want. You feel the heat they scorch in their path from your nose to your chin back up to your molten gaze.
“I’d rather show you.” Heeseung pauses, biting at his bottom lip. “But I don’t think I can do any of the things I want in public.”
You hate the way he does this. The way he never says what he means. The way he skirts around his desires with such heavy footsteps but still leaves you feeling foolish for drawing obvious conclusions.
The way your heartbeat stutters regardless. But tonight, you’ll hold firm. If he wants anything from you, he’ll have to spell it out. “What are you saying?”
Heeseung is as evasive as always. “I’m saying that Sunghoon’s too nice for you.” There’s a hard edge in his eyes when he adds, “You’ll eat him alive and still be begging for more.”
Fine. If he wants to play games, then you’ll roll the dice too. Make scathing comments and heated taunts with whatever numbers you land on.
This time, it’s you that leans in. “Should I make sure to find you, then? When I’m all done with him?”
Heeseung’s eyes light up with a renewed vigor. You can’t tell if he’s furious or the most delighted you’ve ever seen him. “Careful,” he breathes. “That’s a dangerous game you’re playing at.”
You smile. Sweetly. Innocently. Leaning in further, your mouth is scant inches from his.
“I’m not playing at anything.” It’s a blatant lie, but you’ve become well acquainted with denial, too. Picked up a few tricks from the master himself. “You’re the one that dragged me here and started demanding that I ditch my friend.”
Heeseung grins as if you serve no purpose but to amuse him. But there’s a hard edge in his voice when he asks, “You let all your friends look at you like that?”
“Only the ones I really like.”
And now you’re under his skin. Exactly where you want to be. “Careful,” he repeats, even lower this time. “I’m not as nice as him.”
You won’t heed any warnings, and especially not ones given from him.
Heeseung is all talk. All bark and no bite. You almost wish he would bare teeth, just once.
But Jay is still sitting on a barstool just one room over, and no matter how much he likes toying with you, you have the sinking suspicion that Heeseung’s loyalty will always begin and end with his best friend.
He’ll press up against the line, will skirt the edge of the boundaries between you every chance he gets, but you’ve yet to see any indication that he’ll ever cross it.
Just once, you want to be the one with him wrapped around your finger. Want to watch him become putty in your hands.
“What are you gonna do?” Unblinking, you hold his gaze. “Handle me?”
A blurred line dissolves completely. Heeseung’s resolve slips, just a fraction. His eyes are still guarded, yes, but there’s a desperation that wasn’t there before. “Is that an invitation?”
“A challenge,” you correct, taking advantage of his sudden surprise to slide out of his grasp, maneuvering away from his hold. This time, he has no choice but to turn as you begin to back away, to let his eyes follow your lead.
The misstep might have been miniscule, but it was enough to tip the balance.
For once, the results of this game are under your sole control. You have choices, ones that would leave him in the dust and ones that would put a trophy in his wandering hands.
In the end, you discard it all. You have only one final demand for him. It’s a whisper that’s barely audible, “Rise to it.”
Heeseung doesn’t need to hear it twice.
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Thanks for reading :) If you enjoyed, let me know!
#heeseung fanfic#heeseung fanfiction#heeseung scenarios#heeseung imagines#enhypen fanfic#enhypen fanfiction#heeseung x you#heeseung x reader#enhypen x you#enhypen x reader
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wi papa look a thing there for me. awa.
prefacing this with a PSA that i'm going to try and keep short but basically regardless of anything i say here let me make it known that i do believe he should apologize. whether or not he's still actively saying that word in 2024 it is something he's used in the past even if he isn't performing said play anymore/saying things like that so flippantly. granted if he does apologize there's always going to be a section of fandom that's like 'he only apologized bc he got caught' yes?????????? that's what always happens????????? lbr you're not going to get on IG and announce you killed your ex two decades ago and you'll be turning yourself in when there's an entire true crime community in the depths of the internet who will dig up the cold case + the suspiciously convenient alibi anyway without you lifting a finger. politicians who get called out for blackface in college do not go around telling people they did blackface in college. celebrities who were homophobic on this hellsite in high school back in the early 10s before they realized they were gay are not going to let you know what their handle was. this is how the world works.
that being said i must confess i caught wind of the stirrings of this a bit early bc during the clusterfuck that was the Jam vs Zamasian RPF poll (i did not go in the notes. rancid ass shit) someone had taken a screenshot of a reblog made as a 'gotcha' to Zamasian voters by implying that they were anti-Black for voting for a ship featuring an actor that said the n-word in a play he hasn't performed for several decades since, with a short taped example that the general public was not going to know how to find unless they were on a mission. i poked around, saw a couple hints here and there that implied that the clip actually existed, marked that down for future ref and went about my business. disappointing? sure. run of the mill especially among people his age in the industry from that time period who are perceived to benefit from white privilege? absolutely. the former bird identified app dragging all of this back into the light (including the interview with Chris Rock. which i have not seen though there's no way it was within the last few years for AMC to still hire Eric if they had seen it. correct me if i'm wrong pls) is unexpected but tracks for the fandom on there.
generally i don't believe in cancelling someone for things they said or did more than ten years ago if they are no longer the same person they were back then. i don't believe Jacob or Assad or any one of the staff of color who may have been working behind the scenes would have agreed to continue interacting with Eric if he had the same attitude as he did when he first wrote and performed the play. i don't believe his Black comedian niece would continue to talk about him and share photos with him if he was calling her or the Black side of her family the n-word. i am willing to give the 'Eric Bogosian n-word' reply tweet he reportedly made before deleting it shortly after the brief benefit of the doubt bc it was 1. supposedly under someone else's tweet talking about the play incident and 2. i cannot count how many times i have accidently commented/almost posted something on here or YouTube or Reddit or ao3 bc i was on mobile and once the keyboard's open the app/browser flips the fuck out and puts the search bar and the comment box too close together. now if his ass shows up and shows out and stands ten toes down while he's currently on time-out or doesn't address any of this we're dealing with a different story. if more examples of him acting like this come out i'll drop him faster than you can call the election it will be that serious.
anyway for now i'm choosing to keep an eye on this while acknowledging that us Black folks do have the right to be upset and pissed as fuck. we deal with enough racism/microaggressions in fandom spaces as it is we definitely don't need new ones, and we don't need them from the past career choice of the main cast of a show a lot of us enjoy. amen
#tv: interview with the vampire#interview with the vampire#iwtv#eric bogosian#what a lovely start to the 5th already (derogatory)#i've said what i needed to say. i'm leaving reblogs on for now but if people start clowning in my notes it's going off i ain't here#for any of that shit. bitch if this was another cast member we were talking about i'd say the same thing don't get it twisted#if i even smell one of you about to be like 'i always knew—' 'i never liked him—' 'DM fans—' it's an instant fucking block. shut up.#you're not helping thank you#edit: typo located in the second to last paragraph that i just fixed..................... this is what happens when you type out what#you thought out in the shower i'm cryingggggggggggg
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Okay, I did not know that “porn addiction” is not recognized as such, but the information I got from business insider and other sites does state that if someone watching porn does negatively affect their everyday life, then therapy is needed. And I did not know that this term was being spewed by “Christian” people. I’ve seen this term being used in psychology a few times, and I thought that it was a legit addiction, but now that I know it’s not a real thing, I can throw that out of my vocabulary. Thanks for bringing this to my attention, @devilith
Now that I know this information, anyone who unironically uses the term “porn addict” or “porn addiction” in any Twitter post I come across or when I’m just scrolling through one of the tags on Tumblr, now I will truly know who is a puritan and a red flag.
Either way, my point still stands. Now that I am really thinking about it after doing further research, saying that porn “rots” someone’s brain is a puritan thing to say. I’ve seen no one but antis unironically use the term “porn addict.” What’s next? Playing violent gory video games “rots” someone’s brain?
How about we just stop calling other people “gooners” and “porn addicts” over them just enjoying NSFW content? And if someone is gonna call somebody “degenerate” over sexual content, someone else is most definitely gonna do the same thing to them if they’re into content way worse than the content they are attacking people over or just as freaky.
How about we just leave people be and not name call people over enjoying entertainment? Because those types of people devolve themselves into being bullies because what? Someone is interested in something you don’t like?
Besides, a man liking an attractive female video game character and seeking out Rule 34 of them or simply watching sexual content will not cause a spike in sexual violence. As mentioned in the article devilith provided, people who commit sex crimes have consumed less porn than other criminals.
It really does go to show how much antis really regurgitate the same extreme “Christian” rhetoric (and of course I unknowingly spewed this term without knowing that “Christians” used it to demonize people who watch sexual content, and I’m sorry for using that term and not knowing that), and even more ironic is the fact that some of these antis actually do consume content that they deemed “degenerate” but they shame and harass others for liking it. For instance, many mainstream anime fans who are antis.
So, TL:DR, “porn addiction” is not a real thing, and this term is only being used by extreme “Christians” and puritan antis whenever they see something sexual they hate and/or are ashamed of liking.
is it true that porn of any kind (erotica, audio, pics, etc) rots the brain? like, is there any truth to the idea that I'm damaging my brain permanently? I mainly like to read erotica on tumblr or ao3. I've also seen people refer to anyone who likes any type of porn as degenerates and sex pests.
is this what we're doing now. we're calling people degenerates just for reading horny fanfic.
besties we are never ever never ever never ever never escaping conservative christianity.
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Introducing The Kings to Your Plushies
me and my bestie have a joke about my faves showing up to my place for sex and i would not realize and just start talking about my plushies based on this dumb post we saw once, thought it'd be funny to turn into an actual scenario lol might do this for the other devils, angels, minhyeok if the ppl are interested lol notes: mildly sexual - not really anything deeply insane, gender neutral reader !!!
Satan
On one hand, he thinks you're really cute. On the other hand, he's here to fuck so.
He's going back and forth so much in his head for a moment he's not even paying attention to you talking oops.
Gets so frustrated and angered from trying to decide what to do it ultimately ends with him just jumping on you.
Cut you off mid word with an incredibly heat filled kiss from rage.
Honestly you might not even 100% be certain what happened but you're not complaining!! You can always talk about the rest of your plushies later!!!
Well. If Satan doesn't fuck you until the point you're resting for the next couple days.
Once he actually pays attention to you talking about them he'll remember some names here and there, but he will get them wrong on purpose to try and see you angry lol.
Mammon
The reality is he probably got you most of these plushies.
He adores seeing how you cherish them and the lore you've decided for them!!
Will remember every single detail you tell him about them!!
He thinks it's super cute and will humor you for the moment.
However, Mammon will get what he wants eventually. But for right now you're so adorable how could he tell you no?
He is DEFINITELY teasing you later once he does get to sleep with you about how cute you are.
This man lives to see you embarrassed and shy from his compliments.
Is probably buying you even MORE plushies now, hope you're prepared for that!
Leviathan
I think it depends at the point in your relationship, if it's early on he might just toss the plushies aside and get to the point of what he wants.
Later on I do think he genuinely listens, even if he's impatient and pretends like he doesn't care. If it's important to you he does care, just doesn't always show it.
Especially if you use the plushies as a form of comfort due to trauma or any other issues.
You won't even realize how much he paid attention until he refers to your plushies by their names if you accidentally leave them laying around.
However he does still get jealous so so easily so maybe try not to spend too much time at once focusing on them rather than him.
He tries so hard but eventually the jealousy will overtake him and he will just get straight to the sex.
For what it's worth, he still found you cute! He just can't help himself.
Beelzebub
I'm not gonna lie, you might be able to successfully distract him for a good bit.
Dude's invested in the names and lore and anything you have created for them!!! He likes hearing about it !!!!
He isn't gonna be able to remember every single bit of these details but he might remember some of it here and there. Either way he likes listening to how you talk about them!
That being said he can only sit still for so long so maybe introduce him a little at a time lmao.
Especially because once he DOES start to get distracted he's gonna remember the original reason he was here.
And well. Yeah just like that it's time to fuck!
Because you successfully distracted him for a bit you might be in store for an extra long session this time so! Good luck!
Lucifer
He listens fully. Wants to hear everything you have to say about them.
He finds the plushies super cute, so he enjoys listening to your ramblings, even if he had certain intentions when he arrived.
But most importantly, he's so endeared, you're so absolutely adorable to him. The way your face lights up when you talk about them, he can't get enough!!!!
So he lets you have your moment.
And when you're finally done is when he's actually gonna fuck you lol. Yeah, that was still happening he had a goal.
And if he's teasing you extra specially tonight, don't even worry about it (whether it be from compliments or degradation who's to say!! just know you're gonna be crying extra hard this time he's so worked up from how cute you are!).
Of course, he remembers every single detail you tell him, he has that shit committed to memory. Asks you questions sometimes to see that adorable look on your face again!
Belphegor
Goodnight.
He tries to pay attention but he's ready to fall asleep apologies.
He showed up for sex and when it wasn't happening his brain turned off.
That being said the second you realize he's asleep and start trying to wake him up he's on you!!
Like okay conversation done we're fucking now right?
It's just easier to give what he wants and lecture him in the process.
It's fine he tries to listen later. That being said if he invites Beleth to listen too don't worry about it. He totally didn't tell him to memorize details for him because he's probably gonna fall asleep again.
Asmodeus
Sorry there's just no way to distract this man from sex.
If he's showing up for sex he's here to for sex !!!!
And he WILL get it!!!
If anything he just starts fucking you while holding up the plushies to you and asking you details about them.
Unfortunately you're kinda too fucked out by that point to truly answer them.
He's a fucking menace apologies.
And he cannot be stopped I fear.
That being said any information he does manage to get out of you he does fully remember!!
It's his own weird way of showing affection, ya know?
#what in hell is bad#whb#whb x reader#whb leviathan#whb satan#whb mammon#whb asmodeus#whb belphegor#whb beelzebub#whb lucifer#what in hell is bad x reader#whb smut
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i get that wild life (and secret life before it) are very different from life series past in that the mechanics are very front and center, and i understand the frustration that causes when part of what tumblr fandom in particular really loves about the series is the social dynamics! i get it, i really do.
but i think at this point, unfortunately, they can't really just do a pure social game anymore in the same way? this group of creators knows each other very well at this point! they've learned the patterns, both of the game and of each other! the social game just isn't going to work as effectively for any of them! there's only so many ways they can do "normal semi-hardcore survival until we all start killing each other", at the end of the day.
that's the reason why they need the gimmicks to be more intrusive. yes, maybe they get in the way of the "typical" progression of a life series, with base building and alliance forming and such, but like. the ccs have done that all before, several times over. the gimmicks give them something different to interact with that isn't just each other, which makes it easier for them to make videos that are new and interesting to a wider audience.
and to the people saying that it gives them no time to build a narrative and form character arcs--isn't the fact that things are different now an interesting narrative in and of itself? isn't it interesting to see the ways in which these characters react when faced with each new bizarre situation? the way that several different crumbling relationships had to be put on pause this past session because everyone had to focus on a threat bigger than themselves?
ultimately, this new style of life series might not be your cup of tea, and that's completely okay. or maybe the snail gimmick felt too unfair; i definitely think grian maybe underestimated the impact that they'd have, which explains the much shorter session. i do personally hope that the next wild card is one that gives the players some more room to breathe, considering how many of them talked about how stressful this last one was. but like. i've seen multiple posts taking this whole thing in bad faith and saying that the gimmicks are proof that the life series is just becoming a soulless content mill and that it's clearly a sign of corporate greed, and like? i mean, putting aside the fact that this is their job, and they do have to make their videos get views to secure their livelihoods (which is hardly 1% bourgeois living, to be clear), at the end of the day, i'm pretty sure grian's just trying to strike a balance between making the series fun to watch, and making sure it stays fun for his friends to play.
#lei talks#wild life smp#wild life spoilers#sorry for the word dump i'm just. man.#between reddit's 'same teamups suck do something new' and tumblr's 'new gimmicks suck do the old thing'. there's just no winning huh.
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I just read the part where Kirk experiences the Enterprise's point of view in The Wounded Sky to someone else, where she sees the crew as children she is training up to the Great Desire of exploration for exploration's sake, especially Jim. His reaction, essentially: "That was really pretty. ....And then he blows her up."
I hadn't thought about that before! I checked the copyright date, and it looks like The Wounded Sky came out a year before The Search for Spock, so you were writing without knowing that sacrifice would eventually happen.
How did you feel about that? Do you wish that writing decision had been made differently? (If, as a Trek writer, you're allowed to comment on other Trek writers' choices!)
You know, I tend not to think a whole lot about such issues. First of all, because (in the long run) it gets you nowhere in particular that's useful. And secondly, because it's not a thing that, as a Trek writer in any medium except film, you have the slightest power to change.
Now, at this end of time I think we can safely say that no one's going to hire me on to write a Trek film. And also that no one at that end of the creative spectrum is going to pay the slightest attention to anything I say, either. Both of those situations are just What's So, and neither of them bothers me. (Since I have universes of my own to manage at the moment, and that's where my attention properly lies.) So as regards my opinions about other writers' work, I'm pretty much off the hook.
If I had been on screenwriting duty for that film, would there be things I'd have wanted to do differently? Hell yeah. From the premise up. But the important thing here is: would those things necessarily have worked better on the screen / with the audience? Impossible to tell. And speaking as someone repeatedly given permission to work in someone's universe, the main thing to be aware of is the expectation that your chief responsibility is to do what best serves the characters and the IP of which they're part. (There's a post over at Out of Ambit with a lot more of my thoughts on the subject:)
The other thing to remember is that, though I've worn the Canonical Hat in my time, novel work is by definition non-canonical. Doing it, you are at all times working with the understanding that the licensor rarely views your work as anything better than a corporate side hustle—a way for the IP to make some cash on the side—and will ignore you and the stuff you've created unless given pressing reasons to do otherwise. (Such as when they might make some unexpected money off it... at which point you remind yourself as forcibly as necessary that what you did is Work For Hire; they own it, lock, stock and barrel, and you should not realistically expect to be given any credit.)
And, if you understand the rules and enjoy the work enough, all of this is okay. The reward is not in making a lot of money doing it, or even in having aspects of your work openly assumed into canon. The reward lies in being allowed to contribute to a given universe in public (and, yeah, getting paid for it by the licensor). It's not payback: it's payforward. And you're left an astonishing amount of freedom to bring your vision to that universe. (Sometimes... as one colleague has McCoy say... you have to be "very, very careful" to get away with it. But it can be done.)
The truth is that even in the 1980s, I was sharing this level of playing-in-a-universe with a goodish cohort of editors and writers: a big roomful at least. Now I'm sharing it (retroactively speaking) with hundreds of them. With the best will in the world, even in the 80's the licensors (as regarded film) couldn't have realistically polled/listened to all of us regarding our creative opinions about the screenplay end of things. As for what that'd look like nowadays... I'll leave you to your own deductions. 😏
Anyway, thanks for the question. It's always nice to know that there are people who want to know what you think. 😊
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