bokuto’s victorious run across the court wasn’t toward the trophy or the cheering crowd — it was straight into your arms, where years of sweat, struggles, and silent support finally culminated in a fierce, unspoken promise that no matter what, you’d always be his home.
starring. bokuto kotaro x fem!reader ft. msby black jackals and fukurodani volleyball team
genre: fluff, romance, just wholesome!, timeskip!bokuto, former manager!reader
wc: 3.4k
author's note: this is probably the longest i've ever written yet and i love this fic sm it's just wholesome for me; best boy bokuto huhu
the gym lights cast a harsh glow over the court, but they couldn’t outshine the heat radiating from the crowd. the air was thick with the scent of sweat, excitement, and adrenaline — the unmistakable atmosphere of a high-stakes volleyball match. fans were on their feet, some screaming, others frozen in disbelief, but bokuto’s world had already shrunk down to one thing: you.
sitting courtside with akaashi, you watched every move, every spike, every tense moment with quiet intensity. your fingers tapped nervously against your knee, your lips barely moving in silent encouragement.
bokuto caught your gaze several times during the game, his chest heaving with effort and determination, but your calm presence was the anchor that kept him steady.
back then, in high school, it was just like this — chaos on the court and calm off it.
the gym was always alive — alive with squeaking shoes, sharp whistles, the rhythmic slap of volleyballs, and bokuto’s booming voice cutting through it all like a flare. he had a way of making his presence known in every room he stepped into, larger than life and blindingly intense. but what most people didn’t see — what only you really saw — was how hard he worked to hold all that light inside of him.
as fukurodani’s manager, you stood quietly on the sidelines, clipboard in hand, eyes sharp. you were the one who made sure every training drill ran smoothly, kept track of stats and schedules, filled in the gaps left behind when others overlooked the little things. water bottles, towels, first aid kits — you made sure the team never had to ask for them. you were reliable. efficient. present.
but around bokuto, something shifted. there was a gravity to him — bright, explosive, erratic — and somehow, instead of being burned by it, you found warmth in its orbit.
he’d bounce over to you between drills, sweat clinging to his neck, and grin wide enough to make your stomach twist. “did you see that spike?” he’d ask, breathless.
“i did. and you know it was good, so stop fishing for compliments,” you’d reply, pretending not to smile — but you always did. and he always noticed.
at first, your relationship had been built in those in-between moments — water breaks, gym clean-up duty, walks home when the sky turned lilac and gold. you learned how to read him better than anyone else did. when he missed a shot and his shoulders tensed? you’d casually toss him a towel and murmur, “you’ve got another thirty chances. don’t fold on the first one.”
and when he scored, when he lit up and high-fived the whole team, he always turned to look for you in the corner. his expression softer, quieter. like he just needed your eyes to find his.
late practices were your favorite — when everyone had gone home and the world slowed down. he’d collapse on the floor beside you, sweat-soaked and tired, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling.
“you think i’ve got a shot?” he asked once, after a particularly brutal practice. his voice was quiet, a crack in the usual bravado.
you didn’t hesitate. “of course. you don’t even need to ask that.”
he rolled onto his side to look at you. “i do. because when you say it, i believe it.”
you hadn’t said anything then. just offered him the last bite of your convenience store onigiri and smiled. that was enough.
by your third year, your connection was no secret. the team teased, subtly at first — side-glances when he carried your bag, exaggerated coughs when you handed him a towel with too much tenderness. bokuto would brush it off with a wave of his hand and a grin that reached his ears.
“let ’em talk,” he whispered to you once, when he’d snuck out to walk you home. “i only care what you think.”
you started dating officially after graduation, when the intensity of entrance exams had passed and you both realized you couldn’t keep pretending your hearts weren’t already tied up in each other. it wasn’t flashy or dramatic — no rooftop confessions, no perfect timing. just the two of you on a summer evening, sitting side by side on the train after visiting the old gym one last time before leaving for college.
bokuto had been fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, unusually quiet.
“i don’t want to be apart from you,” he finally blurted.
you looked at him, startled. “who said anything about being apart?”
“you’re going to university in tokyo,” he said, frowning. “and i'm heading into full-time training. i just…” his voice dropped. “i don’t want us to drift.”
you reached out and held his hand right there on the train, surrounded by strangers. “then let’s not.”
you found a tiny one-bedroom apartment just outside the city — a shoebox, really, with off-white walls and a heater that rattled in the winter. the kitchen could barely fit two people, and you had to take turns brushing your teeth. but it was yours. the first home you built together.
there were volleyballs by the front door, your work notes strewn across the kitchen table, and bokuto’s shampoo always invading your shelf in the bathroom. he liked waking up early to train; you liked staying up late to finish your assignments. you bickered about groceries, cuddled under mismatched blankets, and danced in the living room when things felt too heavy.
you became his anchor — the person who knew how to hold him steady when the crowd’s cheers faded and all that was left was a boy who sometimes still doubted himself.
he would come home after rough practices, dropping his duffel by the door and collapsing on the floor face-down.
“they’re faster than me,” he muttered into the carpet one night. “i can’t keep up.”
you knelt beside him, fingers threading gently into his hair. “you’ve said that before, remember?”
“yeah.”
“and what happened then?”
“…i worked harder.”
you smiled. “and you’ll do it again.”
he tilted his head up just enough to look at you. “i’d be lost without you, baby.”
you kissed his forehead. “luckily for you, i plan on sticking around.”
supporting him wasn’t something you did out of obligation. it was your heartbeat. you loved his fire, but you also loved the quiet after — the way he needed reassurance without asking for it, the way he would hold your pinky when he was anxious, the way he listened when you vented about your day even if he was exhausted from training.
he wasn’t just your boyfriend. he was your best friend. and you were his reason to keep climbing higher.
and now, as you sat courtside at the msby black jackals vs. schweiden adlers game years later, watching him chase a victory in front of a roaring crowd, you weren’t surprised when he didn’t look at the trophy when the final point was scored.
he looked at you.
because from the first rally to the last, no matter how high he flew — he was always coming back to you.
his legs moved without him thinking, without waiting for permission or logic to catch up. he ran — no, he surged — like something had ignited inside his chest and there was only one direction for the flames to go.
not towards the trophy.
not towards the cameras or the crowd or his teammates still caught in the swell of celebration behind him.
he ran straight toward you.
the noise around him was deafening — the roar of the stadium, the blare of victory music, the low rumble of the announcer's voice barely audible over the cheers. but it all faded into white static the moment his eyes found yours in the front row. you were standing now, hands clutched near your mouth, eyes wide — shimmering with emotion, disbelief, pride, something deeper.
your heart stuttered in your chest. it felt like everything around you had slowed, like time itself knew not to interrupt. you barely registered akaashi standing next to you, still seated and smirking to himself as he leaned over and muttered under his breath, “he’s really gonna do it.”
but you couldn't move, couldn't think — not when bokuto, sweat-drenched and glowing with the heat of victory, was charging toward you with the same energy he used to throw down match-point spikes. it was the same look he wore when he chased down dreams, but this time, you were the finish line.
when he reached you, it wasn’t graceful. he almost tripped over the barrier separating the court from the stands, nearly knocking you off balance with the sheer momentum of his body. but none of that mattered. his arms caught you like they always did — strong, warm, and full of emotion too big for words.
“baby!” he half-laughed, half-shouted, voice cracking with joy. his chest was heaving from the run, his forehead damp with sweat, eyes shining as if he was still in the game and the final point hadn’t yet fallen.
you were already moving into his arms before he finished saying it.
the embrace was bone-deep. fierce. his arms wrapped tightly around your waist as he lifted you just slightly off the ground, holding you like he’d been waiting years for this exact second. you buried your face in the crook of his neck, clinging to him like you always had — not out of fear, but out of knowing he was home.
he smelled like victory and salt and that familiar, earthy warmth you’d memorized back in your high school gym. your fingers curled into the fabric of his jersey, clutching it like it was the only thing anchoring you to the moment. and in a way, it was.
all around you, the stadium kept roaring. cameras began to shift, turning lenses in your direction, catching the image that would circulate online for weeks: not the final point, not the scoreboard — this. bokuto, eyes closed, forehead pressed to yours, smiling like the world had narrowed down to only one person in the crowd.
the image that would silently echo the line that neither of you needed to say:
“where’s the trophy? he just comes runnin' over to me."
he pulled back just enough to look at you, hands still firm around your waist. his grin was still wild, still unfiltered, but there was something softer in his gaze now. something tender.
you blinked back tears, cupping his face, voice trembling with emotion. “you did it.”
but he shook his head. “we did it.”
your chest tightened, your breath catching in your throat. because you knew what he meant. the years — the early mornings, the late-night ramen after bad losses, the job interviews you rescheduled to travel with him to qualifiers, the way you whispered encouragement into his ear when no one else could see the weight on his shoulders.
he saw it all. he never forgot.
the after-party buzzed with the kind of electric joy only hard-won victories could bring.
laughter echoed off the walls of the event hall, glasses clinked, and the players from msby floated from table to table like gods fresh from the battlefield. bokuto had been in the center of it all — hyped, glowing, still riding the adrenaline of the win. you’d watched him with your chin propped on your hand, a smile tugging at your lips as he retold a play for the fifth time, each version more dramatic than the last.
but you could tell he wasn’t all there.
his eyes kept flicking over to you. quietly. softly. as if you were the only steady point in a room full of motion.
eventually, he slipped away from the crowd and approached you, eyes glinting under the golden lights, his hand reaching down for yours.
“hey,” he murmured, “come with me for a sec?”
you blinked. “where?”
he squeezed your fingers. “just… trust me.”
you always did.
he led you through the hotel corridors and out a discreet side door, his hand warm and solid in yours. the sounds of celebration faded behind you, replaced by the soft hush of the night. outside, the terrace was lit by hanging fairy lights and wrapped in soft shadows. beyond it was a quiet, manicured garden, the scent of early spring flowers drifting on the breeze.
bokuto paused, glancing up at the stars for a breath, then turned to face you fully.
you opened your mouth to speak — to tease, maybe, or ask what this was — but the look on his face stopped you cold.
he was nervous.
not the giddy, bouncing bokuto you knew, but something quieter. deeper. his hands were trembling slightly as he took yours again and drew you in closer.
“i’ve been trying to find the right moment all night,” he admitted, his voice soft, steadier now that you were alone. “but every time i looked at you, it hit me all over again. i don’t need the perfect moment. i just need you.”
your breath caught.
“i’ve been thinking about this since high school,” he went on. “since those nights when we’d close up the gym together and walk home under streetlights, when you’d tell me i was more than just my mood swings, more than just a powerful spike.” his voice cracked a little. “you’ve been with me through everything, baby. before anyone knew my name. before the jersey, before the wins.”
he let out a small laugh, gaze locked with yours. “you saw me — all of me. and you stayed.”
the silence between you was tender, and electric, and brimming with everything that couldn’t be spoken aloud all at once.
“so tonight, i don’t care if we won or lost,” he whispered. “i still would’ve done this. because i knew the only thing i’ve ever been sure of — even more than my cross spike — is that i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
then, with one more shaky exhale, he dropped to one knee.
you gasped — hands flying to your mouth, the world narrowing down to just him, kneeling in a garden that now felt like something out of a dream. in his hand was a simple velvet box, trembling slightly as he opened it to reveal a ring that sparkled softly under the fairy lights.
“will you marry me?”
the tears came before your voice could.
you nodded rapidly, voice breaking. “yes,” you choked out, the word thick with emotion. “yes, yes — of course.”
he surged up, slipping the ring onto your finger with shaking hands before pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you like he never wanted to let go.
you barely had time to breathe before —
“wooooo!!”
the terrace doors burst open behind you.
you turned, startled, only for a wave of familiar faces to come rushing out from behind the hedges and doorways where they’d been hiding.
“finally!” hinata crowed, fist-pumping into the air. “we were freezing our asses out here!”
akaashi appeared behind him, arms crossed but a faint smile tugging at his lips. “he wanted us here. said it wouldn’t be right if we weren’t.”
konoha and komi barreled over next, both looking a little misty-eyed despite their teasing smirks.
“you’re stuck with him forever now, huh?” konoha teased, slinging an arm around bokuto’s shoulder. “good luck with that emotional rollercoaster.”
“she’s the only one who’s ever kept him from flatlining mid-game,” komi joked, wiping discreetly at his eyes. “she deserves the mvp title too.”
bokuto laughed through a choked breath, cheeks red, still holding you tightly against his side.
the msby boys spilled out next — atsumu whistling loud and obnoxious, sakusa staying slightly behind but nodding with quiet approval, meian raising a glass he’d somehow snuck out with.
“congrats, lovebirds,” meian said with a grin. “you’re officially team captain of his heart now.”
you covered your face in your hands, overwhelmed and laughing through tears as bokuto gently pulled them down.
“hey,” he whispered, his smile crooked and boyish. “you said yes.”
“i did,” you whispered back, eyes shining.
he leaned in, forehead resting against yours, voice barely audible over the sound of your friends cheering behind you.
“i can’t believe i get to keep you forever.”
you smiled.
“you always had me.”
and in that garden, wrapped in fairy lights and the laughter of people who’d known you both from the beginning, bokuto knew:
this was the real victory.
the morning sunlight came slow and golden through the hotel window.
it filtered through sheer curtains, turning the room a soft, buttery hue — the kind of light that invited you to stay in bed just a little longer. the world outside had quieted, the frenzy of the match and the after-party now distant echoes. what remained was the hush of morning. breath. warm skin. the steady rhythm of someone you love sleeping beside you.
bokuto was on his side, one arm sprawled over your waist, the other tucked beneath his pillow. his hair was flattened in odd directions, still faintly smelling of cologne and sweat and champagne. his mouth was parted slightly, breath soft and even. one bare leg was tangled in the sheets, his hand unconsciously tightening against your hip every few minutes like his body remembered you even in sleep.
the engagement ring still glittered faintly on your finger.
you turned your hand slowly in the light, watching it catch on the delicate band. there was something surreal about seeing it there. not because it felt out of place — but because it felt so right, so natural, it was as though your hand had always been waiting for it.
a quiet sigh pulled your attention.
bokuto was stirring.
his lashes fluttered, and after a few blinks, his golden eyes found yours. for a moment, he just looked at you — as if making sure you were really still there. like maybe he thought he’d dreamed it all. the match. the garden. your yes.
“morning,” he rasped, voice rough and low, eyes still heavy with sleep.
you smiled, brushing his messy hair back from his forehead. “morning.”
his brows furrowed. “did we…? last night…”
“you proposed,” you whispered, smiling softly. “and i said yes.”
he stared for a beat, eyes wide with awe, before he groaned and buried his face against your neck.
“baby,” he mumbled into your skin. “i’m engaged. to you.”
you laughed gently, curling your fingers into his hair.
“yeah. you are.”
he pulled back slightly, blinking at you like he still couldn’t believe it, like the realization was settling deeper into his bones with every second. then, slowly, his hand reached for yours beneath the sheets. he laced your fingers together, bringing them to his lips. his thumb brushed over the ring as he kissed your knuckles, lingering there.
“you’re gonna wake up next to me every day,” he murmured. “forever.”
“every day,” you echoed.
“and we’re gonna get a place with a huge couch. like, huge. so we can lie on top of each other and still have room for snacks.”
you smiled. “is that your dream for our marriage?”
“that and putting your name in my phone as my wife.” his eyes softened again. “but mostly… just being with you. like this. always.”
you didn’t say anything for a long moment. you just stared at him — his sleep-ruffled hair, his crinkled eyes, his earnest smile. he was still the same bokuto who used to chase you around the fukurodani gym with a towel over his head, pretending to be a ghost. still the boy who gave you his milk bread after practice when you forgot yours. still the man who looked at you like you held his whole world in your hands.
and now, he really had given you everything.
you leaned forward and kissed him — slow, sleepy, and full of quiet promise.
when you pulled back, your forehead rested against his.
“i’m really glad you ran to me yesterday.”
he smiled, eyes closing as he breathed you in.
“where else would i go?”
outside, the city slowly stirred awake — but in that quiet room, with his arms around you and your hand in his, there was nothing else the world could offer that could compare.
because the greatest win of his life wasn’t last night’s match.
it was waking up to you — every morning, from now until forever.
'Teasing a genius sometimes isn't the best idea even if he seems lazy'
@2-c4ndy
Warnings: mostly fluff, established relationship, some suggestive stuff but now nsfw.
Short trip to the Nara forest.
You were not supposed to be here.
It had started as a random comment from your side about how pretty deer were when you encountered one during a mission. And of course, your boyfriend heard, and your boyfriend was a Nara. So now he had smuggled you into the Nara forest against all clan rules.
“Stop making so much noise,” he grumbled as you two walked toward his favorite spot.
“Sure, I’ll just make my feet not step onto the dry leaves all across the floor. Maybe I should fly to prevent that,” you replied sarcastically, making him roll his eyes.
“Don’t be stupid,” he grumbled again.
“And stop being so paranoid. It’s not like you haven’t gotten grounded before, and it’s not gonna happen anyway,” you said, poking his side. He flinched for a moment and swatted your hand away.
“I’m not. You’re just being troublesome,” he said, giving you a small glare—without any actual annoyance behind it. Then he looked away again, like he was waiting for his dad to materialize out of thin air and scold him.
You rolled your eyes but decided to shut up for the moment. The forest was beautiful—more than any normal one. There was something… ancient about it, almost magical. You could almost feel the trees breathe with the wind, the clan’s ancient runes carved into the stones adding to the pull of the place.
“They like you,” he whispered softly, so quietly it was almost imperceptible but calm.
Your brow furrowed a bit. “What do—”
Your words were cut off by a startled yelp as you felt something press against your back, followed by a very distinctive snort behind you. And despite all your ninja training or experience, your body reacted before your mind did. A very loud yelp left your mouth before you could even think, and your hands flew to grip Shikamaru’s arms, nearly jumping into them.
Then you looked back. Of course, it was a deer. A very massive deer, staring straight into your soul.
“...Why is he so massive?” Your voice came out in a whisper, torn between the urge to run and the impulse to pet it. It was cute—just extremely terrifying.
“You asked me the same thing last night, and you didn’t seem so scared,” he snorted teasingly, earning a smack to the chest.
“They’re just big. They’re not gonna attack you. They know you’re with me,” he said with a sigh, taking your hand in his and guiding it slowly but firmly to the animal’s fur, helping you get used to it.
Your body gradually relaxed, a small smile forming on your lips—both from Shikamaru’s closeness and from the way the deer seemed to enjoy your touch. After a few moments, the deer bowed slightly to Shikamaru before running off into the trees.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” he said calmly, moving his hand to your waist and rubbing small, slow circles into your skin with his thumb, making you smile a bit more.
“Still… I wouldn’t have expected a chunin like you to get scared by some deer. A bit pathetic, don’t you think?” he whispered against your ear, making your smile fade into a smirk as you rolled your eyes.
“I will punch you,” you muttered.
“Troublesome woman… you’re the one who decided to come here, you know?” he snorted, his hand still on your waist, the other tucked in his pocket.
“I’m not the one causing such a scandal and breaking clan rules just to hang out with my girl,” you teased with a dramatic gasp.
“And I told you to keep quiet. Which we both know you don’t know how to do,” he replied, raising a brow.
“Yeah? And what are you gonna do tie me to a tree? Because Im not being loud. You're just too quiet,” you shot back.
“Don’t tempt me,” he smirked slightly, though you could swear you saw his eye twitch a little.
Then he leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice low and slow and entirely too effective.
“Yet I wonder what other sounds I could get out of you… out here, where no one’s around to hear.”
Your breath caught, and he chuckled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face like it meant nothing.
“But for now,” he murmured, stepping back with that lazy smirk, “you’re on deer watch.”
You blinked. “What?”
“Now behave,” he said, pulling away just far enough to smack your ass—not too hard, just enough to make you gasp while somehow making the gesture seem casual. Of course, he resumed walking like absolutely nothing had happened.
“I hate you,” you grumbled, walking beside him again, but any other complaints died on your tongue the moment you arrived at a small body of water.
There was a tiny cascade, with baby deer learning to walk near a big tree, others grazing nearby. It felt… safe.
“…It’s beautiful,” you whispered in awe.
“I know,” he said softly, barely audible, as he moved to lay on the grass, tugging you down with him to sit.
“The forest likes you,” he murmured again, pulling you to lay across his chest.
“Is that because I like you?” you chuckled softly.
“Don’t get sappy… but yeah, most likely,” he whispered, hugging you a bit closer, eyes closing for a moment.
You didn’t know how much time had passed, but the sun was already beginning to set when you opened your eyes again. He stirred a little, still holding you close.
At first, you thought the distant voice was your imagination.
I hope y‘all had a great start and the year 2024 will bring you only happiness and everything you wish for.
Quick apology for being so incredibly inactive, a lot was going on in my life the last few months and i‘m still not sure when i‘m gonna start writing and posting again. I love writing and i‘m definitely gonna get back to it but at the moment my main focus is on university, upcoming exams and spending time with my loved ones. I hope y‘all understand. 🤍
Love you guys and a big thank you for everyone who’s reading, liking and reposting my stuff🫶🏼
summary: your boyfriend does the hot wing challenge for quadrant and you make a little cameo for the first time ever
warnings: none, just fluff
masterlist | taglist
"Baby, you've got no right to laugh, you're not going this", your boyfriend Lando called, he would've laughed if his mouth wasn't burning at the moment.
He was currently filming a YouTube video for Quadrant and Max and him were eating hot wings while Niran asked them questions.
At the moment they were at the 7th wing, at level 300,000.
Max and Niran looked over at you behind the camera when Lando called your name.
Your boyfriend waved you over, signaling you to come to him. You hesitantly stood up, as you haven’t really confirmed your relationship yet, and walked to him and his best friend.
"My lips are burning", he mumbled, leaning back against your stomach, his head tilted back so he could hold eye contact.
You let your finger trail over his cheek, placing them onto his full red lips.
Lando leaned further into you. "Ohh, your fingers are cold, baby. I've never loved your fingers more than in this moment", the driver muttered, wrapping his arms around your middle, to keep you in place.
Max and Niran broke out in hysterical laughters as soon as Lando stopped speaking and even you couldn’t help a grin forming on your face.
"If you say so", you muttered, pushing your fingers into his curls, wrapping them around your fingers.
"Stay", he demanded.
"You're full of milk", you complained, stroking over the wet patches on Lando's black shirt.
"Yeah, I'm sorry, baby", he cooed, not really paying attention, which made you chuckle.
"You wanna take a bite as well?", Max suggested, holding up a hot wing with some sauce on it.
His best friend addressing you, made Lando lift his cheek from your stomach and look up at you.
In the meantime, you nodded, taking the chicken wing from Max's hands and taking a bite.
You didn't want to admit it but Lando's reaction wasn't unreasonable. The sauce was fucking spicy. But you tried to not let it show too much.
"It's spicy, that's for sure", you managed to say, taking a sip of the cold milk next to Lando.
"Well, at least you didn't spit everywhere like Lando", Max chuckled, slapping his best friend's back.
"She never-", Lando started with a grin, looking up at you, but before he could say anything else, you put your hand over his mouth, stopping him from telling a stupid sexual joke.
"You didn't eat the earlier ones", Lando complained, his voice muffled due to your fingers on his lips.
You listened to Lando answering Niran's question, with your boyfriend's arm still wrapped around your legs.
"Your lips alright again, mate?", Max asked teasingly.
"Mmh-mmh", Lando asked, looking up with his head thrown back. You could read his face telling you he wanted a kiss. You shook your head but still leaned down to peck his cheek, not feeling quite comfortable to properly kiss him with a camera recording you and in a video that will be posted on social media soon, before walking back to your chair behind the camera.
"You okay over there?" Max asked, after a few more hot wings when he noticed you pacing up and down behind the camera.
"My lips are burning", you replied. The boys laughed. "No, really it's actually painful", you called back, chuckling.
"You want ice cream", Lando offered, holding up the vanilla ice cream box. You agreed and walked over, the spoon already ready in Lando's hands.
You opened your mouth, letting Lando feed you. "You know Lando's salvia is all over that, he drooled on it", Max pointed out, looking at the spoon in Lando's hand.
"My salvia has been different places already", Lando quickly replied, not even taking his gaze of you.
"LANDO!", you yelled, realizing what he just said and threw the empty milk can that stood on the table at him.
Lando dodged the can successfully. "What? It's true", Lando laughed, smearing ice cream on your cheek.
Then he pulled a third chair closer for you to sit on.
"If there's anything you would change in Formula 1, what would you do?", Niran went on with the questions. "I'd make them do this. On the grid. During the national lanthem- lanthem", Lando replied, struggling to pronounce the words coming out of his mouth.
Max and you started laughing. "It's alright, baby", you laughed, making Lando look up at you. "You have the exact same look on your face as if you just came from a night club, completely shitfaced", you told him with a chuckle.
"I- I do talk li- la", Lando slurred, only confirming his words by the way he said them. You laughed and buried your fingers in his curls when he laid his head on the table.
"I need something to eat, something that's not spicy", he whined and sat back in his chair. "You want noodles?", you asked, grinning at the state your boyfriend was in.
Lando looked up and nodded, looking like a little kid. You smiled and ruffled his curls before standing up and walking to the kitchen upstairs.
Only a few minutes later Lando and Max came up from the filming room. Your boyfriend came up behind you and wrapped his arm around your body, his head resting on your shoulder.
"I’m almost done", you told Lando, who nodded and sat down next to Max on at the kitchen counter.
You took two plates from the cupboard and placed them in front of the two boys before putting the noodles along with the sauce on the table.
Lando pulled you closer like he had earlier while filming as well and put his head against your stomach.
Ria entered the kitchen and chuckled at the scene in front of her. Both boys looking like they just went through the most traumatic experience of their lives, with milk dripping down their shirts. "What happened to you two?", she laughed.
"Now you wait till you do that video", Lando called, grabbing his burning throat after, making you and Ria chuckle.
Comments:
fan: Y/N CAMEO??? IN A QUADRANT VIDEO
fan: She gets along with Max so well, I love it
fan: Ria is probably so happy she doesn't need to deal with the guys on her own anymore
fan: I don't think we need an official statement about their relationship anymore
> fan: Yeah, I think that's confirmation enough...
> fan: "My salvia has been different places already"
> fan: Charlotte would sue him for that
> fan: PAHAHAH SHE DEFINITELY WOULD
fan: Her voice is so calming, I could listen to her talk all day
> fan: Her accent is so adorable
fan: Y/n immediately burying her hands in Lando's curls is the cutest thing I've seen all day
> fan: Can we blame her? His curls do look amazingly touchable
fan: Now after this, I wanna see drunk Lando
fan: I wanna see more of boyfriend Lando, he’s the cutest
summary: It’s normal to argue. You know that. But that doesn’t mean it hurts any less, even tho you know you and Daniel will work it out in the end.
warnings: bit angsty, actually not sure what else to say. Soft ending tho
a/n: i‘m so sorry for not posting a lot atm. I have so many drafts but I can’t seem to finish them. Whenever I try to write it’s like my brain shuts off completely. Not even sure if this is any good but it’s the only thing I was able to complete, so enjoy ig haha
masterlist
Arguments. They‘re normal, every couple has to face them at one point. Some argue more, some less. But it’s normal. They happen, you talk it out, you make up. Normal.
You and Daniel argue. Normal. It doesn’t happen often, but it happens. Normal. What wasn’t normal, is that you had to leave the apartment. It wasn’t normal for him to yell at you like this, both of you throwing words at each other you didn’t actually mean. Not normal.
You had to get out, leave for a bit. Before anyone of you says something you can’t take back at the end.
You wander around, aimlessly. It‘s raining, hard. You didn’t bring an umbrella with you, but you didn’t care. The water droplets on your skin felt kind of refreshing.
Your phone beeped, your boyfriend worries about you being alone, out in this weather at night. He sent multiple messages, telling you to come home.
The feeling of relieve fills your chest, glad that he’s still caring about you, even after the fight. But you ignore his messages, at least for now, needing some space to clear your head a bit. He was really mean tonight, something that basically never happened, not like this. You understand that he’s frustrated, not being able to race this season, but that’s not your fault.
Just because you said that you’re glad to spend some more time with him now, happy to have him to yourself for a while, doesn’t mean you don’t support his dreams and career. You’re proud of him, always have been, always will. But being away from him so much is hard and you really really missed him over the last year.
After a while you stop at a little café that was open late. Exactly what you needed right now. You sat by the window, ordering a cup of tea while watching the rain pour.
Your phone beeps once again.
„I'm really worried about you, the weather forecast said that there will be thunder too, you should really come back home.“
Your thoughts and emotions whirle around your head as you stare out the window.
With a sign, you type back a quick message to let him know you’re safe and not outside in this horrible weather. You may be mad at him but you’re not so cruel to let him suffer and worry about your well-being for the rest of the night.
But a part of you still doesn’t want go back home.
You look around the café, noticing that it is completely empty except for you and the barista. It is quiet, calm, peaceful. No one would be yelling at you here. No one would be blaming you for everything.
At first you just needed a break, now... now you needed an escape.
You look out of the window again, watching the raindrops sliding down the glass. It’s like they’re racing against each other. Even something small like rain on a window reminds you of him. It keeps your mind occupied for a while, watching the water glide around the surface but you’re still thinking about him. You’re always thinking about him.
It’s like the weather mirrors your exact feelings at the moment, like it’s trying to tell you that you’re not alone.
You put your phone aside, not responding to the rest of Daniel‘s texts. His mind was always full with thoughts about racing, training and other things related to his profession. And you understand, he loves his job. And you don’t blame him for that.
But you have feelings too, you have feelings that you want him to acknowledge sometimes. You need him to realize that. To recognize how upset you are and how hurt you feel.
Your thoughts spiraled down deeper and deeper as you watch the rain outside. The water droplets, they look like tears.
You sign again, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. You know you and Daniel will work it out, like you always do. You love him and you know he loves you. Arguments happen and you understand he’s frustrated, even though it’s not okay for him to put the blame on you. You both need some space, time to calm down before you can face each other to actually talk about it. But you‘ll be okay. Everything will be okay in the end.
The rain starts hitting the window harder than before, making it difficult to see the world outside.
Taking a sip of your tea, you look at the clock. It’s already 1 in the morning. You feel a bit guilty. It's late, really late.
You pick up your phone, hesitating as you look at Daniel's last message. He was panicking about the storm and kept telling you that he was worried. You know him, he's usually not the hysterical kind.
„I‘m inside a Café, don’t worry. I‘ll wait a bit until the storm calms before I come home.“
You think for a moment, not sure if you should send the next text. You want to but.. fuck it.
„I love you.“ you type and hit send quickly, before you can change your mind. But you mean it, because you do. You love him.
A notification appears instantly on your phone. It's a message from Daniel. It reads „I love you too."
Your heart skips a beat. Of course, your love still means the world to him.
You close your eyes and picture his face. When Daniel smiles at you, his eyes sparkle in a way that no one else's eyes could. He's so good at showing his emotions through his eyes…
Ding. Another message.
„Please come home honey, I can't take it another second."
You smile softly at the nickname. You look out of the window again, the storm seems to get only worse. You want to go home, right now. But you know it wouldn’t be the best idea, not in this weather. But you don’t care. You pay your tea, tipping the barista generously, before making an exit to finally get home. To the person you love most.
As soon as you enter your apartment you see Daniel standing there, waiting for you. You lock eyes for a moment, neither of you saying anything... It's quiet. The only sound you hear, is from the rain outside.
Daniel is smiling at you, and he starts walking towards you. He softly puts his arms around your drenched body, pulling you close and kissing your forehead gently. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your face is turning red.
„Sorry“ you whisper into his chest, hiding your face in his sweater. You’re tearing up again, breathing in his scent.
"I should be the one to say sorry." You hear Daniel's voice whispering into your hair as he holds you tight. "I was cruel, I should never speak to you like that. Never." His words are soothing to your ears.
Even though you were fighting badly only hours prior, you felt safe. It has been a long time since you felt this safe. Since you felt this protected.
Just then Daniel takes a step back to look at you, as if he was admiring your face. Then he leans in to kiss you, needing to feel that you’re real. That you’re here, that you came home. The kiss only last a few seconds but it’s soft, gentle and full of love.
Yes. You‘ll be okay.
Daniel's lips on your face feel like heaven and you close your eyes, not wanting to let the situation end just yet... but before you could do anything, his hands reach for your face, gently moving you away. For a second, you were scared to look at him but he's just fixing your wet hair.
"Let's get you warm," he smiles as he guides you into the kitchen, the warm light from the lit oven illuminating your face. You enjoy the warmth for a moment while Daniel was already boiling water for some tea.
„I- I‘ll go change into some dry clothes real quick“ you whisper into the quiet kitchen, watching him move around the room to prepare the tea.
Your boyfriend nods and smiles at you, putting his hand on your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Go ahead, let me make you some tea" he smiles as he pushes your hair away from your face again.
The kettle whistles, it's boiling. Daniel picks it up and pours the hot water into two cups, putting lemon in both of them. The scent of lemon fills the room, mixed with Daniel's cologne.
You disappear into your shared bedroom, quickly getting rid of your wet clothes, throwing them into the hamper. Grabbing one of Daniels Hoodies, you pull it over your head and instantly hold the collar up to your nose, taking in his scent. Wiping your tear stained face with the sleeves, you take a deep breath before returning back to the kitchen where Daniel‘s waiting for you.
He is leaning against the kitchen counter, watching you slowly while the tea waits for you on the table. Two hot cups of tea, steaming up the kitchen.
Looking at his face, you find him smiling at you when he notices you’re wearing his hoodie. He wraps his free arm around you, pulling you close.
He kisses your head softly and whispers in your ear. "Drink it, it will warm you up."
Daniel's arms encircle you, squeezing you like he never wants to let you go.
You didn’t want to ruin the mood but you had to ask. You and Daniel were always good at communicating in the past and you didn’t want to stop now by pushing this argument away, you had to talk about it for the problem to be completely solved.
„We still need to talk. Not now, but.. we need to talk.“ You whisper, leaning closer into Daniels arms, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
„You're right, we will talk." His voice is soft. „Not now though. For now, let's enjoy this tea. And... let's just be together." Daniel said as he kisses you again on the cheek and your still damp hair brushes against his face.
He was right. You need some rest. It's late, after all. And what happened shouldn't be discussed when you're both tired. Let alone now, when you're so peaceful.
„We‘ll be okay“ you whisper, a short promise. To him and yourself, that your love is stronger than an argument like that. You‘ll work it out. And it‘ll be okay. Like always.
Lol went on a hike this morning and there weren’t many people but there was a guy, dressed in Max red bull racing merch from head to toe. Didn’t expect that in the middle of a german forest but it definitely made my day ahahah
i just know that guy is happily sitting wherever right now, smiling, probably screamed „fuck yes“ and goes to tell all his friends how great Max Verstappen, his idol, is.
Lol went on a hike this morning and there weren’t many people but there was a guy, dressed in Max red bull racing merch from head to toe. Didn’t expect that in the middle of a german forest but it definitely made my day ahahah
It was another early morning that you were going to spend by yourself. Race weekends were simultaneously your favourite days as well as your worst. You got to see Lando doing what he did best, but it also meant he was away from home.
This was one of the weekends that you weren't able to join him in the wonderous country he was racing in. As you did every morning (every evening for Lando), you rolled out of bed and sat on the balcony.
You could see the sun just poking over the horizon, the orange glow that followed was drifting up into the sky like a haze. You took a moment to take it in, before you pulled your phone out of your pocket and found Lando's contact, which was at the top of your 'last dialled' list.
After a few shrill rings, you were met with a "Hey, baby. How are you doing?" from the love of your life. "I'm good, I'm good. The sun rise is really pretty over here," you smiled, looking to the side as if he were sat right next to you.
"The sunset is really pretty over here," he told you, the thought that you were both looking at the exact same scene, thousands of miles apart made his heart flutter. Even if you weren't with him, there was always a piece of you with him wherever he went.
"The sky is all orange, and it's like it's glowing," you told him, your hand tracing mindless circles on your thigh like Lando would normally do. "It's just like that here, the view from my room is great. Not quite the same as from our balcony, but it's still nice," he nodded.
Instinctively, he turned to his side, the empty space forming into you, the sun glowing golden on your face and highlighting your features. It was at this point you'd normally lean into him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, kissing your head.
He loved the way the light kissed your skin, lighting your face up and your eyes were practically illuminated. "Hey, you there?" you asked after not receiving a response from him to an earlier statement. "Yeah, yeah, sorry. I was just thinking," he chuckled.
"About what?" you queried.
"I just wish you were here, with me, and we could watch the sunset together. Or the sunrise, either is fine," he sighed, leaning against the rails of the balcony outside his hotel room. You felt the same, longing to be with him. "When you get home, we can get up every morning and stay up every night to see it,"
"Yeah, I like that idea," he said, and both of you fell quiet as both of your eyes settled back on the sun. A lot of people like to think that they could see the moon at the same time when they were apart, both of them sitting under the same starry sky.
For the two of you, you liked knowing that you were both lit up by the same beacon of vermillion in the sky, its rays of warmth wrapping you up and smothering you when the other couldn't. "You know, this is really pretty, but it'd be prettier with you," he broke the short silence.
"Mhm," you managed to hum out, his comment making tears prick at the back of your eyes. It hit something in your heart, something that triggered a great feeling of loneliness and melancholy. You were used to him being gone a lot, but you just missed him that extra bit more right now.
This was one of those times you were supposed to spend together, not thousands of miles apart. The chair next to you was empty, when it was supposed to be filled. His side of the bed was vacant, when it was supposed to be slept in. Your hand was left loose, when it was supposed to be held.
"You OK?" he asked, his tone turning concerned.
"Yeah, course. I'm fine," you said, your voice cracking slightly as you wiped away the tears that had started to slip down your cheeks. "Baby, come on, what's wrong. There's no point in lying to me," he said, and you sighed in defeat.
"I just-" you started, as a higher volume of tears fell from your eyes, "I just really miss you. I mean, I always miss you, but right now I really miss you," you sniffled, trying to ignore the burn in your throat.
"Please don't cry, baby, I know, it's hard. I wish you could come everywhere with me," he said to you, trying to hold the tears back too. If he could have gotten on a plane and flown home to you right then and there, then he would have. "I will be home in two days, that's all we have to wait," he said, trying to make you feel better.
"But I want you now..." you whispered, so quietly he had to stop breathing to hear it. Your voice was delicate as a feather, light enough to be dropped with one blow. "I know, I get it. I want you now as well," he said, pulling his phone back from his ear to see you as his home screen.
It was a picture he had taken the first time you had watched the sunset together. You were coloured in crimson, and it was a candid shot of you laughing at something he had said. He could hear your giggles, and he could feel your presence beside him.
He closed his eyes for a moment and pictured you there, hearing the sweet sounds of your voice reverberating around the space. For that moment, the world was at peace. Nothing could possibly interrupt the heavenly bliss of the daydream he was having.
You were both at home, and you had each other. "I guess we just have to wait," you sniffled, staring as the sun was nearly fully over the horizon. "I guess we do," he agreed, watching as the last remnants of light disappeared over the skyline, the moon taking its place as the light in the sky.
It was day and night, sun and moon, light and dark. Two opposites that perfectly attracted one another. Two stark differences that were magnetically drawn to the other. But that wasn't how it was supposed to be.
It was meant to be the sun and the clouds, or the moon and the stars. One or the other. Not both. "I love you Lando, you know that?" you asked, your aching heart needing to hear it as if it were a painkiller that could temporarily soothe the pain.
"I know baby, I love you too," he smiled, a few tears slipping onto his cheeks. It wouldn't be so long until you saw each other, but every second that ticked by made the wait more agonizing.
A/N - So, thank you to the lovely @pinkswaet for the idea, I really appreciate it! At the moment, I am working on all of my requests and part 2s that I have promised you at some point, so then I don't have any loose ends and can carry on posting new stuff without stressing about the old stuff. If you have any requests, please do submit them, they are my favourite things to write. If you have already made a request, it is on the way! Love you all 💖💖
Max deemed it was only fair that he shared some of his childhood experiences with you after the countless ones you shared with him.
You were all up for it until you realised it was karting.
At first, you were hesitant because of the ties it connected to in his past. You thought about the countless stories he told you about being a young boy, crying and desperate to please his father who seemed to have impossibly high expectations of his son.
But then you remembered that it was his childhood. That this was something he wanted to share with you, that he wanted to experience with you like the way you had shown him countless experiences for the first time. And you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no to him when he asked with those puppy dog eyes.
However, by the time you got into the karts, you were met with a pretty harsh reality.
You were absolutely shit at karting.
You thought Max would get a bit annoyed and impatient. After all, he was five years old and doing this with ease. And here you were, almost two decades older and unable to even go around the track once without crashing into something.
But when you got out the kart after the first round, Max took off his helmet before coming to help you with yours, and he had a massive grin on his face.
“You’re not annoyed by how shit I am?” You asked him, almost warily as you took his hand to help pull yourself out of the kart.
“Why would I be annoyed?” He asked, his brows furrowed in confusion. “It’s cute.”
You raised your brows. “It’s cute seeing me crash?”
“It’s cute seeing you get so frustrated at not being automatically good at something,” he corrected with a cheeky grin.
“Ha ha,” you deadpanned.
However, between glaring at the kart and trying to listen to the tips Max was giving you, you seemed to miss the small child standing a few feet away. He was young, probably no older than six or seven years old. And he was staring at Max with wide, eager eyes, listening to every single word that left his mouth.
Max paused when he noticed the young boy, a small smile on his lips. However, the boy looked sheepish and embarrassed, and quickly turned around to try to run off.
“Hey, little guy,” Max crouched down, nodding the kid over.
“I’m sorry!” The young boy blurted out, fiddling with the straps of his small race suit. “I just…I wanted to know how you did that.”
Max raised his brows. “How I won?”
The kid nodded and something in his chest tightened, in a good way. In a way he wasn’t really used.
Despite the short-temper Max tended to have on track and with people in general, he had the patience of the saint as he kneeled next to the boy’s kart and began talking away to him. He gave him tips and tricks, told him little mottos that helped him before a race.
It was a light you had never seen Max in before and it warmed your heart.
By the time you made it on the track for the second time that day, and even though it was purely on purpose (by Max, at least. You couldn’t say the same with yourself, you truly were quite shit behind the wheel), the young boy had won.
He was grinning ear to ear when you made your way to the makeshift podium, standing proudly on the top step as he shook the bottle of fizzy juice until it sprayed everywhere. Max was smiling just as hard as the young boy. A smile that only grew when the boy launched himself at Max into a hug to say thank you.
Your boyfriend was still buzzing by the time you made it to the car. The track was a decent drive away, and with the day finally taking its toll on you, you were happy to close your eyes and lean your head against the window as you listened to your boyfriend ramble on about the day.
Until he said something that made your eyes snap open.
“I think if our kids ever kart, I think I’d wanna be pretty hands on, you know?”
You froze, unsure if you even heard him correctly. You opened your eyes, turning to look at him, but his eyes were still on the road as he spoke. However, when you remained silent, he finally glanced over and noted the expression on your face.
“What?” He murmured before frowning. “I don’t mean like my dad…if that’s what you thought. I just meant like—”
His hands gripped the wheel as he faced forward again, trying to find the words to speak but they were a stuttering mess.
But that wasn’t what caught you off guard. It was his use of our. Not my, but our.
Our kids.
Your relationship with Max was still in the early stages, though there were the months of friendship that stood as a solid foundation of your relationship. And maybe it should have scared you that he was talking about kids so soon, that he was talking about your kids so soon, but it warmed your heart.
You imagined the young boy at the race track once again, except this time he was the perfect mix of you and Max. Maybe your skin tone and his nose. Or your smile and his eyes. Something that was a little bit of both of you. Or maybe even a young girl, one that Max would treat like his absolute princess.
You found that if that was your future, you didn’t mind it one bit.
“I think you’ll be a great father and teacher,” you said eventually, interrupting his stuttered rambles.
Something on his expression eased as he turned to you again, a small smile on his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you smiled back. “And hopefully the kid has more of your genes than mine when they want to race.”
Max snorted. “If they want to race.”
“If they want to race,” you agreed with a nod.
And maybe both of your dreams that night were spent imagining a world with the two of you and your mini-me at the race track, matching helmets with their father and cheers from their mother.
