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twstfanblog · 2 months ago

Note

I am scrambling for a topic, hn...

Maybe Yuu talks about how they went about naming the planets in her world to the Ignihyde boys?

YuuTalks! Explaining the Planet Names

A/N: Some quick edits I didn't realize I didn't do. Sorry!

"What a lovely turnout."

Idia sat curled up in a section of the bench seating, Ortho sitting beside him in the otherwise empty classroom.

Giggling, Ortho tilted his head as he read over the chalkboard, "Most of our friends have made the connection that if one of your events isn't mandatory, it's in their best interest to not attend. But, your world's space exploration far exceeds our own. So, I wish to hear more about the advancements from your home!"

"I'm just here to make sure you two don't start making blueprints for weapons again..." Idia mumbled, glaring over the tablet he clutched to his face.

"Fuck you. Anyway, welcome to YuuTalks! A fun little thing I've decided to do to explain topics from my world to you poor little rat boys."

Yuu clicks a button on the master remote, sending the room into darkness and illuminating the chalkboard from the overhead projector. Smiling, Yuu gestured to the title, "YuuTalks! How We Named the Planets!"

Ortho's eyes widened, already recording the presentation and leaning forward in rapt attention, "You have multiple planets!?"

"Well...We don't live on multiple planets. But we've been aware of them since ancient civilizations took notice of the stars. Seeing how we can see most of them with the naked eye..." Yuu erased the board, drawing several symbols in chalk.

Idia quirked a brow, able to recognize a few symbols. Two were gender emblems, but another two were logos he had seen in his own family registry.

Yuu made a final symbol in the beginning of the line, a circle with a single dot in the center, "I'm gonna make this a game-"

"Oh no-"

"Shut up, this'll be fun. The planet names that I was taught were actually based on Greco-Roman astrology. Which makes the fact that only you guys showed up so fucking funny to me."

"Greco-Roman...Ah! Those are your world's equivalents of the Valley of Woe and the Union of Mourning, Prefect Yuu?"

"Yep! The Romans basically ate Greek culture and passed it off as their own once Greece fell. But then they renamed a bunch of stuff to piss me off."

Idia frowned, though more interested than before, "I really doubt that's why they did it-"

"Shut up. It totally was. BUT! Since you guys are the smartest boys on campus about who these planets were named after. I'm going to describe the planet and you will guess who its namesake is."

Ortho clapped his hands, internally opening a search window while Idia himself poised his hands over his tablet.

He smirks, throwing Yuu a subtle challenging stare, "Bring it."

Yuu turns, pointing to the first symbol in the lineup, "First up, a freebie. This is the symbol for the Sun. It is the star at the center of our solar system, the gravitational pull dragging us and our planetary brethren behind it as we all go hurtling in space together. Now-...Yes, Ortho?"

Ortho turned the flashing lights of his arm off, putting it back down to the desk, "Was the Sun not named in the same fashion as the other planets?"

"It was. This is a freebie, Ortho. Trust me the pattern is quick to pick up and then I will fuck you over later. But, 'Sun' is from an old English — Queenian — word 'sunne' which itself is from a Proto-Germanic — Fuck, um...Central Shaftian — word 'Sunnōn'. But the most common name was Sol, after the Roman sun god."

Idia was actually taking notes, brow pinching at the information, "Wait...I'm not gonna try to say her name, but you said it was a goddess of the sun* when you told me about the gods you pay respect to."

Ortho tilts his head, "I thought it was the Star Lord, Lord of the Solar Palace?"

"The wha-"

"Ok. Quick crash course. My planet has many religions. Which, if I'm remembering what Lilia and Trein have told me, doesn't really happen here. You guys have more like...'Icons of Concepts' compared to whole ways of life based around group beliefs. But MOVING ON-"

"So wait. You said the Roman god. But these names are based on Greco-Roman? Where's the Greek? Are they taking turns?"

Ortho raised his hand again, lights flaring up to be noticed more easily in the dark, "What was the Greek name for Sol, Prefect Yuu?"

"Thank you for raising your hand, Ortho. The Greek equivalent to Sol was Helios, persona of the sun-"

"OOOOOOOOOOOO!" Idia’s eyes widened, an almost giddy vibe taking over as he tapped his tablet, "Helios was an Elden mage who pioneered fire magics."

Ortho nodded his head, "He created a large number of fire spell basics that we still use today! He died via immolation, so the fact your world saw him as a persona of the sun itself is fascinating!"

"Yeah, that's a word for it. Ok, let's start round one. The first planet in the solar lineup is currently the smallest planet. It's also the closest to the Sun, meaning it makes a full trip in only 88 days compared to my world's 365-ish days."

"Aaaa. So quick..." Ortho and Idia both took notes before whispering as to who they believed the planet to be named after. Idia had proposed the symbols would be helpful, seeing how Helios in his magical studies was the first to spell weave using archaic magic circles.

"Our worlds' ancient histories are weirdly closely linked. I think symbols were some of the things that were crossed over, like the stories about the Great Seven and such..."

"True...Then..." Ortho raised his hand again, thankfully without the blinking lights and called out when Yuu nodded, "Was this planet named for Hermes?"

"Correct! Romanized to Mercury, the planet is named after the God of travelers and communication."

Ortho giggled, "Because it's so fast!"

"Next planet." Yuu tapped the female symbol, "Second from the sun, yet the hottest planet in our system. It's covered in clouds of sulfuric acid and is literally the landscape of actual hell on the surface. But from the view of our world, it was the most beautiful star in the sky..."

"Hmmm...Maybe Eris? History did paint her as a rather malicious trickster, but she was known to be quite beautiful..." Ortho tapped at the desk, mentally reviewing the overwhelmingly large records of Woe and Mourning historical figures.

"It does sound like a pretty horrific status of a planet...pretty from afar, but a toxic environment up close- It's Aphrodite."

The laugh Yuu let out was short and barely contained. She smiles, looking at Idia with a head tilt, "What made you come to that conclusion?"

"Ah…A few hundred years ago, we found what we think were Aprodite's journals. She wasn't much of a mage, but she did dabble heavily in potion crafting. The research she had put into her potions was interesting enough to be published as a scientific memoir. While most of it was her recounting on the properties of plants and other magic objects, she was also ripping on her family viciously..."

"She recounted several ways she's cheated on her husband..."

Yuu laughed harder, "Messy bitch, I love her. Yes. Aphrodite, Romanized to Venus, is the name of the planet. Venus is also called my planet's twin, since they're roughly the same size. Now skipping to the fourth planet-"

Humming under his breath, Ortho's brows creased but he skipped over the third info section in his notes, "We're skipping your planet, Prefect Yuu?"

"If you guys do well on the others, you can guess my planet's name." Yuu taps at the male symbol on the board, "Known as the little red planet, it's the planet we've studied the most. We've sent multiple explorer robots up there and have learned the planet is red because its soil is rich in iron. In fact, it's so red that it's a key naming feature in every culture that discovered the planet."

Idia hummed under his breath, scrolling through the list of historical figures linked to his homeland, "Little and red, huh..."

Ortho perked up and yelled, "Ares!"

"Ding ding ding!" Yuu tapped the symbol, "Ares, the god of war, is the namesake of the little red planet. Romanized to Mars!"

"How'd you guess that Ortho?"

"Do you not remember the legend? Ares and Aphrodite had an affair for many years. During one such meeting, Aphrodite's husband came home. And since he knew what Ares looked like, she poured what was possibly the first draft of a color-changing potion over his head. Unfortunately, it was permanent as Ares remained red for the rest of his days..."

"We just named it because to the Greeks it looked blood-soaked. Your legend is cuter. Now," Yuu taps the next symbol, a stylized '4', "This is the fifth planet. Big as fuck, like insanely big, too big. Like, 13,000 of my planet can fit in this fucker."

"That is big…"

"That's cracked stats big..."

"We also sent a satellite up there named after his wife since a bunch of the moons are named after his lovers."

Ortho and Idia looked at each other, eyes glancing back to Yuu as Ortho asked, "Is that...a cute thing?"

"More along the lines of hilarious."

Idia sighed, "It's Zeus."

"Damn, say it with a bit more hope in your soul at least."

"I don't wanna talk about that asshole..."

Yuu held up her hands, nodding her head, "Fair. But, yes, the fifth planet is named after Zeus, romanized to Jupiter, the big daddy king of the gods."

"Don't...call him that..."

Ortho giggled, "You named a satellite after Hera and sent it to revolve around him?"

"The Romans called her Juno, but yeah, it's funny. Now...This one might be tough because they are not...the same person this time? But are? It's weird."

Yuu taps the next symbol, a stylized 'h', "The second largest planet in our solar system, after the big daddy king-"

"Don't call him that!?"

"Fine. The second largest after Jupiter, it's known for its dazzling outer rings made up of rock and ice. It also has the most moons of any planet."

"Oh? Quick query, Prefect Yuu. What are the moons of the other planets?"

"Well, Mercury and Venus don't have moons. My planet has one moon. Mars has two, Deimos and Phobos named after Ares’ sons. Jupiter has...95 that we know about? Or at the very least ones that are recognized as moons. And...the planet we're talking about now has...274-"

Idia’s eyes widened, even Ortho pulled back in surprise, "What, like, all at once!?"

"We think Jupiter has 600 we just haven't categorized all of them...Jupiter is so fucking big, it's annoying to think about..."

"What...what did you even name them all? At some point, you have to start using numbers instead..." Ortho tilted his head, brows creased in thought.

"Well, the biggest moon is named Titan..."

Idia groaned, "Just tell us, there's...there's too many titans to guess from if the themeing is following what I think it is. And you're saying there's 274 moons? We'll be here all afternoon."

"Well...Saturn is the Roman equivalent of Cronus-"

Both Ortho and Idia jumped back in their seats even more, Idia nearly scrambling backwards to the desks behind him, "Cronus!?"

"Damn...What did he do here? In my world he like...castrated his father and ate five of his children."

"By the Design...I don't...Cronus is theorized to be the first incident of an overblot? It's the only conclusion we can make from what few written accounts of the event we've found. He seemingly went mad one day and attempted to murder his wife and children."

Idia tapped at his tablet, "Was he known as a god in your world? I think after...the incident, his children tried to erase him from history with varying results."

"Uh...varying answer. He was worshipped, but nowhere near as much as his children were. There was kind of a soft spoken respect to him? But he wasn't really worshipped until he was romanized into a god of agriculture."

Ortho squints his eyes, "Agriculture?"

"You know...because of the sickle?"

"...You mean his murder weapon!?"

"Moving on." Yuu turned back to the board, tapping the next symbol, a hybrid of the Sun and Mars symbols mashed together. "We actually only discovered this planet and the rest in the past few hundred years! It and other planets were only theorized to exist, but the technology just couldn't find them yet."

Idia raised his hand, "I wanna keep talking about the fact your world had the legend of a man maiming his father and cannibalizing his children, and they were just cool with him???"

"Shhhhhhhhhhh. This planet has its own iconic set of rings and is actually tilted by 90°. Plus, it's the only planet named after a Greek god instead of Roman. It has fourteen moons, all named after book characters, giving them the title of the 'Literary Moons'."

Ortho hummed, doing brief math in his head before speaking, "So...it rotates normally, but its north and south poles are pointed facing the sun directly?"

Idia let out a terrified peep, "That's way too much sunlight! Wait...how long does daylight last then? If a whole hemisphere is looking right in the crosshairs of the sun?"

"Like 40 years."

"I'd kill myself."

Laughing, Yuu spoke, "It's kind of our fault? The theory is that an object the size of my planet hit it and caused it to tilt."

Idia mumbled under his breath, "Ruining stuff for everyone else is kind of the thing of your world, huh?"

"May we have another hint, Prefect Yuu?"

"Hmmmm...This planet is named after the Greek personification of the sky."

Ortho tilts his head, thinking over his options, "Is it...Ouranos?"

"I'll give you the win." Yuu wrote on the blackboard, giggling, "Uranus is what the planet was called in the end. Here's how we spelled it."

...

"...Prefect Yuu-"

"I know."

Idia held his hand over his mouth, "That's...so disrespectful...Why did you spell it like that...?"

"Because scientists forget at times that children are monsters. Next planet, because I wanna finish and get lunch."

Glancing at the clock, Ortho mused, "It has been a bit since we started."

Yuu tapped the next symbol, very clearly a trident, “This planet-”

Idia and Ortho both spoke, “Poseidon.”

“Let me…fucking speak?”

Idia gestured toward the board, glaring at Yuu in annoyance, “Its symbol is a trident. You’d have to be a noob of the highest degree to not know the symbol of the first Mer-King.”

“Fuck you, I’m still talking. Since it’s so far away, it’s basically a giant ball of ice with dense clouds over its surface. Said clouds were believed to give it an appearance of water though that has been disproven. It has sixteen known moons, all named after lesser sea gods such as Nereid and Triton.”

Idia called out, voice dripping heavily in a sarcastic tone, “Wow, more water-centered historical figures. How could I have not thought it was Poseidon?”

“Shut up, it's called Neptune and your knees are forfeit when we leave this room.” Slapping the board, Yuu nods her head toward the last symbol, “Guess it, you cunt.”

Idia opened his mouth but gave pause, humming as he studied the symbol closer.

Ortho tilted his head, “Is that a ‘G’?

“Ortho, does this look like a G?”

“Yes! It looks like a confused lowercase G!” At Yuu's continued silence, Idia gestured to the board, “Is it!?”

“No! You fucking dumbass- It was the smallest planet of our solar system until it got so unpopular with the scientific community that they declassified it as a planet. Can you guess who this one is named after? Huh? Can you guess, Idia?”

“...That's fucked up and mean.” Idia tapped at his tablet, shrinking back when Yuu leaned over the desk to continue taunting him.

“No, go on say it. Who is the little bitch planet named after that went on to have little bitch descendants?”

Ortho spoke up, the sadness clear in his tone as he looked at the board, “Was it really so disliked…?”

Yuu turns to Ortho, tone softer and all of her hostility gone, “No, it was declassified because after like…80 years of continued study and advancements in telescopes, scientists found that Pluto, romanized from Hades, didn't really…planet right?”

Idia spoke, “How does it not ‘planet’ well?”

“Well, for one, it's small. Like smaller than my planet's moon, small. Pluto's moon is actually only like half its size. And it doesn't orbit properly. It's like riding on Neptune's orbit sometimes. Plus its apparently on a fucking orbital angle different from the other planets, so that's making it weird too.”

Ortho leaned his head against Yuu’s shoulder, playing up his sadness and tapping his fingers together, “Did people really not like it…?”

Yuu sighed, patting Ortho on the head before backing away from the desk, “Nah. From what I remember people were pretty pissed that Pluto lost its status. They just kind of claim its a planet and are debating about it still.”

“Aw…That's nice. So Pluto is very loved in your world?” Ortho's eyes were shining, a clear contrast to Idia’s guarded and half hidden glare.

Rolling her eyes, Yuu smiles, “Yeah. We love that funky little planet. Oh! I have to show you guys a song about Pluto, I think you'd both like it.”

“We'll see about that…” Idia mumbled, glancing at the clock before sighing, “Hey. Did you still…want to do lunch…?”

“Yeah. I really don't even wanna try to find my main trio of braincells right now. So you two get to have me as a lunch date.”

“Oh goody…”

“Shut up, you fucking offered.”

“Wait! Prefect Yuu, you haven't told us your planet's name yet. I want to know.”

“I mean…I've said it before. You know the stuff I'd say when you guys first met me? ‘What on Earth?’ ‘Earth to dipshit.’ ‘Salt of the Earth.’ Stuff like that.”

“...It's Earth?”

“Yep.”

“But…but that's so boring, Prefect Yuu! That just means dirt!”

Yuu couldn't help but chuckle, “And our moon is named Moon.”

Idia huffed, already standing from his seat as Ortho remained fuming in his, “Talk about dropping the ball in the writers room. It's like playing an MMO with an immersive cast of high fantasy names only to find an NPC named Kyle.”

“Yeah…we didn't really see ourselves as a body in the universe…but the other names for Earth and our moon are actually Terra and Luna.”

“Doesn't Luna-”

“Yes, Luna just means Moon. Romanized from the Moon persona, Selene. And Terra is Romanized from the Greek Earth persona, Gaia.”

Both Idia and Ortho freeze, both looking at Yuu with wide eyes.

“...What?”

Idia coughed briefly into his fist, his mouth suddenly dry as his brain raced with theories and ways to soft launch questions to his parents, “Gaea is the name of our Planet…”

“...Huh.” Yuu clicked the remote, holding the door open as the room fell into complete darkness, “It's always kinda weird how close our worlds seem…”

Idia nodded, following behind Yuu and Ortho to the cafeteria, “You're telling me…”

Idia is talking about Xi He of Chinese mythos. Ortho follows up by referring to Tai Yang Xing Jun. She hasn't actually explained this to them, though.

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #twst wonderland #yuutalks #twst yuu oc #yuu oc #idia shroud #ortho shroud

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monicfever · 1 month ago

Note

have you ever heard of Megan Fox carrying a bit of her boyfriend's blood in a necklace? do you think any of the characters in DD and Punisher would be into it?

wearing a necklace full of their blood 𝜗𝜚 daredevil & punisher headcanons

r e q u e s t e d ♡

characters used ᝰ .ᐟ matt murdock / frank castle / foggy nelson / karen page / elektra / ben poindexter / billy russo / dinah madani / muse / wesley (bonus!)

⏜︵ MATT MURDOCK. 𐂯

MATT would think it’s incredibly intense, the idea of carrying a piece of someone so deeply with you. at first, he’d be uncomfortable with the thought. his mind would race through the risks, the danger, the symbolism. he’d wonder why it felt so personal, almost too personal.

“wait, hold on,” he’d say, brow furrowing as he tries to wrap his mind around the request. “blood? like, my blood?” his voice would be a little tighter than usual, the words laced with a mix of disbelief and confusion. he’d laugh, but it’s awkward — like he doesn’t know whether he should be horrified or curious. “i get the whole emotional connection thing, but blood? that’s… a bit much, don’t you think?” he’d pause, shifting on the couch, fingers tapping out a rhythm of uncertainty on the armrest. he'd squint at you, half joking, but the wheels in his head are already turning, questioning if there’s some deeper, weirder meaning behind it.

at first, he might even feel a little judged, like you’re asking for something too much, too soon. it’d be confusing to him — why would you want something so messy? but if you’re persistent, explaining that it’s not about the blood itself but about the bond, he’d start to soften — only a little. it wouldn’t be an instant change, but there would be a shift, a moment when the idea clicks for him. he’d still be unsure, not entirely comfortable with it, but there’s something about you — the way you’re so sure of the gesture — that starts to make him reconsider his own hesitation.

it wouldn’t be easy for him to swallow, but he’d respect it. he’d want to understand, if only because it makes you happy. once he saw that it wasn’t just a whimsical request, but something deeper, something that held meaning for you, he’d come around. he’d agree to let you wear it, not because he understands, but because he wants to see you happy, even if it’s something he’s not completely comfortable with. for him, love has always been about sacrifice in some way — about giving a little piece of yourself, even if it’s not easy.

"just don't wear it out in public too much. i’m not saying you can’t, but... i don’t want you drawing attention. you know how people are."

there’s a strange intimacy in that — him accepting something he doesn’t quite understand, all for the sake of your happiness. it’s his way of letting you in, showing you that he’s willing to compromise, even if it means stepping outside of his comfort zone.

sometimes, late at night, matt’s fingers would linger on the edge of your neck, tracing the space where the necklace would rest. it’s a small touch, but it speaks volumes. he’d never ask you to carry something like that for him, not unless you insisted. and even then, he’d probably hold back.

⏜︵ FRANK CASTLE. 𐂯

FRANK’S first reaction would be pure confusion, followed quickly by concern, and then a heavy dose of skepticism. his brows would furrow, lips pressed tight in a hard line. there’s a rough edge to his voice when he speaks, something like disbelief at first. “you want what?” he’d glance at you like you’ve lost your mind, shaking his head as if he hasn’t quite processed the request. this isn’t a conversation he’s used to having. what kind of connection are you even asking for here? what’s the point of holding on to that part of him?

blood doesn't hold the same weight for him that it might for others. he's seen so much of it, bled so much of it, that it’s almost like it’s lost its significance. it’s just… blood, something that’s always been a part of the violence and the violence that’s always been a part of him. but he still can’t fully wrap his mind around the idea of you wanting to keep a piece of it.

his first response would still be that subtle, confused pause — a second of wait, what did you just say? but after a moment, he'd just shrug it off, his eyes narrowing slightly as he tries to assess what exactly you're getting at.“uh... sure. I guess it's not like I haven't given enough of it away already.” there’s a wryness to his tone, like he’s trying to make light of it, but he also just doesn’t have the energy to care that much about the request. blood isn’t some sentimental thing for him; it’s just a substance, a part of the whole fucked-up cycle he’s been stuck in.

it would be weird for him, yeah, but he’s also someone who’s been through a lot of chaos, a lot of violence, and in his mind, this would just be another weird thing to add to the list. it's not that he doesn’t care — it's just that his attachment to his blood is nonexistent. he doesn’t have some emotional connection to it, doesn’t hold on to it like a symbol of life or love the way other people might. it’s just a fluid, just a part of him, like any other body function.

might even joke once it's all said and done, in that dark, frank way of his: "just don’t let it be some weirdo’s idea of a good souvenir, alright?"

when he sees you actually wearing it, close to your chest, something would shift in him. not a full-on change, but there'd be a quiet flicker of something protective. he'd watch you for a long moment, considering whether or not he’s okay with it. and honestly? part of him would hate the idea that his blood — his mess, his past — has become a piece of you. but another part of him would feel mildly okay with it, because you’re choosing to take that risk with him. it wouldn’t be an “into it” kind of thing, like he’s suddenly head over heels for the idea of you wearing his blood as some symbol of love. but he’d accept it, and there’s something deeply important in that. he’s not the kind of guy to get caught up in the sweet, small things that most people value, but your request for something so deeply personal would strike a chord with him.

he’d let you have it, just like that. no grand gestures, no overthinking. just a small, simple act of giving. it’s the way frank does things — silent, understated, and somehow more meaningful because of it. there’s no need to complicate it. it’s just you and him, and that’s all that matters.

⏜︵ FOGGY NELSON. 𐂯

FOGGY would be more surprised than confused, he’s not used to this kind of request. he’s an open guy, warm and understanding, but he’s also not the kind of person who typically associates love or intimacy with something like blood. still, when you ask him for a piece of it —well, it’d throw him off for a second. he’d probably laugh first, nervously, as though trying to lighten the situation and mask the discomfort he’s feeling. "is this a vampire thing? am I supposed to be worried?" he’d joke, his voice a little higher than usual, trying to make light of it. foggy’s one of those people who uses humor to cope with things he doesn’t understand.

if you kept going, explaining why it meant something to you — something about connection, about keeping a piece of him close to you — his joking would quickly subside. he’d still be uncertain, definitely surprised, but the sincerity in your voice would make him pause. he wants to understand the people he cares about, even if it’s a bit out of his wheelhouse.

but foggy would get it, eventually. he’d see it for what it is: a gesture of trust, of wanting to hold onto him in a way that feels meaningful to you. and even if he doesn’t fully understand it, he’d respect it. he’s not totally comfortable with the idea, but foggy is all heart, and if it means something to you, he’d go along with it. he might even try to be a bit lighthearted about it, making sure to joke that he’s pretty sure he’ll never get used to the idea of his blood in a necklace, but deep down, he’d be touched by the fact that you wanted something so personal, something so him.

he’d find himself thinking about it during late nights in the office. his eyes will drift to the spot where the necklace rests against your skin. when you lean in to talk to him, he’ll catch a glimpse of it. he might not be vocal about it, but inside, there’s a small, quiet warmth that builds up every time he sees it. maybe he’d never really understand why, but the fact that it was his blood now tied to you made it feel like you were carrying him with you in a way that no one else had.

if you wore it, he'd probably give you that soft, endearing smile of his, the one that makes him look a little bit shy but a whole lot fond. maybe he’d even reach out and adjust the necklace for you, fingers brushing yours just a little too long. he wouldn’t get it, not exactly, but he’d do it because you asked — and because, in his own way, he’d want to give you everything.

⏜︵ KAREN PAGE. 𐂯

KAREN would definitely approach the idea with her usual mix of curiosity and caution. at first, she’d be so confused. her eyebrows would knit together as she stared at you, trying to process what you’re saying. she’s been through a lot, seen a lot, but this? this would be a new one.

she’d probably be concerned at first, more for the how than the why. karen would think about the practical side of things — how do you even get that much blood into a necklace without it being, well, gross or unsafe? "i mean... isn’t that a bit... dangerous? i’m not a scientist, but i don’t think blood’s supposed to just hang around in a little vial forever, right?" she'd frown, her mind immediately running through a million worst-case scenarios.

when she saw how serious you were about it, how much it meant to you, her instinct would kick in. she’d want to understand. karen has a way of caring for people deeply, even if it takes her a second to process her feelings. she’d want to be there for you, but her protective nature would come out. couldn’t you just keep a picture of me or something? she’d think to herself, because blood — well, blood is a lot.

eventually, karen would warm up to it. not instantly, not easily, but slowly, like light coming through sheer curtains. at first, she’d carry the discomfort quietly, that persistent hum of this is a little morbid tucked somewhere behind her ribs. but over time, as she sees how gently you treat it, would start to shift something in her.

you’re not treating it like a trophy or a token. you’re not wearing it for shock or drama. you hold it like it’s sacred, like it means something more than what it physically is. and karen, who has spent so much of her life trying to separate herself from the parts that hurt, from the blood and the chaos and the loss, starts to see the beauty in how you accept all of her. even the messy parts. especially the messy parts. so yeah, after a while, she’d get it.

she’d catch herself touching the chain around your neck, fingertips grazing the tiny vial like she’s still unsure what it means, but drawn to it anyway. she’d ask more thoughtful questions — what made you think of this in the first place? does it make you feel safe? do you feel like it’s me, really? — not in a way that’s judgmental, but curious. and when you explain, when you tell her that it’s not about morbidity or obsession, but connection, something private and quietly intense, she’d finally see it.

and then one night, when it’s just the two of you, quiet and warm in your shared space, she’d bring it up again. soft voice, eyes downturned, like she’s not sure if the words will come out right. "would it be… weird if i did it too?"

and once she says it out loud, the whole thing would feel less strange to her. she’d probably even laugh a little at herself as she holds up the tiny vial of your blood later, squinting at it like how did this become my life? — but there’d be something so soft in her eyes, something new. maybe even a little thrill.

she’d wear it under her clothes, close to her heart, and never mention it to anyone.

⏜︵ ELEKTRA. 𐂯

ELEKTRA wouldn’t be shocked when you ask. she wouldn’t laugh or tease or tilt her head in confusion like others might. she’d just look at you, long and still, and there’d be something slow and curious behind her eyes, like she already understands what you mean before you finish saying it.

to elektra, the idea of carrying a piece of someone, something visceral and deeply personal, doesn’t feel strange. it feels ancient. sacred, even. she comes from a world where symbols matter, where blood means more than biology. it’s lineage, loyalty, sacrifice. a kind of wordless promise. so if you asked to carry hers, she wouldn’t recoil. she might ask why, just to hear your reason. not because she doubts it, but because she finds it interesting. because she loves when you reveal more of yourself. and if your answer is soft, a little unsure, something like i just want to keep a part of you close, her expression would shift, almost imperceptibly. thoughtful. warm, in that rare, fleeting way she gets when she’s not guarding her feelings.

she’d agree. simply. easily. no ceremony.

but it would mean something to her more than she’d admit. she’s not someone who gives pieces of herself away lightly — so if she gives this to you, lets you keep that part of her close to your chest, it’s because she’s already decided you’re hers in a way she won’t undo.

she’d watch the way you treat it. how carefully you wear it. how often your hand drifts to where it sits, almost unconsciously, when you’re thinking or nervous or just quiet. and something about that would stay with her.

she would absolutely be into it. not in a sweet or sentimental way, but in that quiet, intense, elektra way. to her, this kind of gesture wouldn’t feel dark or dramatic. it would feel intentional. primal. intimate in a way that most people shy away from. she's someone who lives in extremes, who’s always been drawn to the edge of things — danger, devotion, desire. so when you ask to carry a piece of her like that, she’d feel something tighten behind her ribs. not fear. not confusion.

and over time she’d get deeply into it. she’d trace the necklace against your skin when you’re standing close. she’d touch it absently when she’s thinking, the same way someone might reach for a lucky charm. it would become part of the way she loves — silent, physical, constant.

because in her mind, it isn’t strange. it isn’t excessive. it’s trust. it’s possession. it’s a kind of love most people wouldn’t understand — but you do, and so does she.

⏜︵ BEN POINDEXTER. 𐂯

DEX would be so caught off guard at first. he’s used to people keeping him at arm’s length, used to his intensity being too much, his closeness being too sharp. so when you ask — quiet, maybe a little hesitant, like you’re not sure how he’ll take it — he freezes. not out of fear. just confusion. like his brain is trying to catch up to what you just said.

his first reaction isn’t rejection — it’s shock. not because he thinks it’s weird, but because he doesn’t think anyone could want him that much. that deeply. that intimately. and the fact that you do? that you want something from him, so personal and permanent — makes his chest tighten in a way he doesn't understand.

you can see the way his expression flickers — first confusion, then caution, then something much softer. something like wonder. and then, all at once, he’s in.

he says yes too quickly, because he wants to give you anything. everything. if this is how you show love — if this is how you feel close — then he wants to meet you there, even if it doesn't totally make sense to him yet. to ben, this isn’t just about the blood. it’s about you choosing him. wanting to keep part of him.

he’d probably get a little obsessive about it in the quiet, vulnerable way he does — checking the necklace when you’re not paying attention, brushing his thumb over it like it proves something. like it makes all of this real. you want him close. you want him to stay.

then the idea would grow on him. if you get to carry a piece of him, shouldn’t he carry a piece of you, too? he’d just keep watching you wear his with this quiet kind of reverence, like it’s proof you’re not afraid of him. like it means you see him and still chose to stay. but the more he sees it around your neck, the more the thought starts to gnaw at him. why shouldn’t he have one? he wouldn’t ask directly. he’d sit with it for a while, trying to pretend it doesn’t matter, but it does. he wants you close, always. and he wants something physical, something real, something he can touch when his mind gets loud.

so eventually — softly, a little unsteady — he’d ask for one too. and when you say yes his whole body would go still. not dramatic, not loud. just that locked-in, hyperfocused stillness he gets when he’s overwhelmed by emotion. like the weight of being wanted back hit him all at once. he’d keep yours close to his skin. under his shirt. right against his chest. he’d wear it all the time. when things get hard his hand will drift up to it like a reflex. your blood, your presence, your promise. it would anchor him.

he’d get weirdly sensitive about it too. if you ever took his necklace off — forgot it, misplaced it, even just left it on the nightstand — he’d notice immediately. there’d be this flicker in his eyes. something sharp and nervous. why aren’t you wearing it? are you mad at me? did something happen? did i do something wrong?

his brain would start filling in blanks you never wrote. he’d try to act casual, but you’d see the tension in his shoulders, the way he keeps glancing at your collarbone like he’s searching for it. to him, not wearing it might feel like rejection. like distance. like the beginning of leaving.

it wouldn’t matter how small the reason actually was — his head would make it big. because you loving him enough to wear a part of him? that’s everything. and the absence of it — even for a second — would feel like absence of you.

he’d hold onto it like a tether. something physical. grounding. yours. he might not fully know how to say it, but it would wreck him a little bit, the way you love him. strange, specific, intense. no one’s ever wanted him like that. now that you do — he’s not letting go.

⏜︵ BILLY RUSSO. 𐂯

BILLY would take your request and wrap it in silk and shadow. on the surface, he’d play it cool — smirk curling lazy at the corners, eyes sharp with interest, like he thinks it’s fascinating that you’d ask for something so intense. he’d repeat the request like a joke, like he’s amused, but there’d be a glint behind it. something darker. something real. underneath all the charm, billy loves the idea.

the intimacy. the loyalty. the fact that you want to carry part of him close to your body, like a secret only you two understand. he’s used to people wanting him for the surface — his looks, his polish, the curated version of himself he offers up so easily. but this? this is something else. this is messy and permanent and unpretty. and you want it anyway. you want him anyway.

he’d pretend to tease you about it. baby, that’s a little twisted. but there’s pride in his voice. affection, even. the kind that slips in when he’s not trying to perform. he’d hand it over without hesitation — too easily, honestly. like he’d been waiting for you to ask. he’s the type to go out and get the necklace himself. something sleek, something custom. minimal but expensive.

he’s got a control thing, a possession thing, and this? this satisfies both. it’s not just about giving you something of himself — it’s about belonging to you in a way no one else ever has.

and god help the day he sees you not wearing it. he’d try not to let it show, but it would eat at him. he’d flash that practiced smile, make some offhand comment — forget something this morning, sweetheart? — but the look in his eyes would be tighter. flatter.

if you're not wearing it, if you left it behind, even by accident, he’ll feel it like a bruise. he won’t explode. he’ll retreat. cold shoulder, false calm, the kind of silence that hums under the skin. he’ll convince himself you’ve changed your mind. that you don’t want him anymore. that you’ve seen the cracks in the mirror and finally looked away. you’ll have to pull him back. show him it still matters, that he still matters. because for all his bravado, billy russo wants to be loved so deeply it hurts.

he’d be into it. almost disturbingly into it, but in that smooth, quiet, russo way that feels expensive and intense and a little dangerous. he wouldn’t just like it, he’d crave the idea. because to him, this isn’t just a romantic gesture. it’s a mark. a claim.

he’s not loud about it. he doesn’t need to be. he has this controlled intensity that makes everything he does feel deliberate, curated, like he’s always five steps ahead. so when you ask for a vial of his blood he grins. slow, wolfish. his pupils dilate a little. he says yes, but with this air of control, like he’s the one offering, not just agreeing. like he’s giving you something no one else has.

it becomes a branding thing. not in a possessive, overbearing way; but in that quiet, obsessive, billy russo has a past he never talks about way. you’re wearing his blood. you’re carrying him. that’s not casual to him. that’s forever.

in his mind, that blood means forever. and if you’re wearing it, maybe there’s a chance he gets to keep you forever, too.

⏜︵ DINAH MADANI. 𐂯

DINAH would definitely think it’s weird. at first, she’d just stare at you, blinking in disbelief like she’s not entirely sure if you’re joking. she doesn’t do well with sentimental stuff, and this feels like one of those way too intense gestures that doesn’t really sit right with her. she doesn’t understand the appeal. to her, blood is something practical, not some romantic gesture or keepsake.

dinah’s not the type to hold on to things like that. she’s got a strong, independent vibe, and anything that feels too attached, too cloying, would make her uncomfortable. she’d start to question why you wanted it, unsure how serious you are about it.

even though she’s open with you in her own way, this is too out there for her. she’s not the type to do something that personal — it makes her feel vulnerable. but after a bit of thinking, and seeing how much it means to you, dinah might reluctantly agree. though it would be so much about her getting you to explain why you want it.

when you wear it, she might give you an odd look at first, but she wouldn’t say anything. maybe just a quiet, “still wearing it, huh?” as if she doesn’t entirely understand, but she’s not going to stop you.

if you ever asked for her to wear your blood in return? she’d probably laugh, but more out of awkwardness than anything else. “no way. that’s... no. not happening.”

⏜︵ MUSE. 𐂯

MUSE would be so into it. the second the idea crosses his mind, he’s already a step ahead of you, imagining it, planning it, getting excited about it. this is his element. blood is his medium. it's not just a substance for him, it’s a language, a tool, a signature. the idea of you carrying a piece of him in a necklace doesn’t feel weird, it feels natural.

he’d grin, that glint in his eyes burning with something dark and mischievous. there’s no hesitation in his voice, no questioning. he would probably get even more into the idea than you expected. he’d start fantasizing about the perfect vial, the perfect necklace, the perfect design for something that will hold your connection. and of course, it has to be something sleek, sharp, almost like a weapon — because to him, this is about making something as permanent as the blood itself.

when he gives you his blood, he wouldn’t just give you a little — he’d give you more. as much as he can, until he’s left with just enough for himself, his thoughts already racing with the idea that your blood is just as essential to him. his fingers would twitch with that artist’s urge, always thinking about the best way to make you part of him, to mark you, to make sure everyone knows who you belong to. of course he’d want to give you something like that. you want his blood? then it’s only fair that he has yours, and he’ll savor every drop like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

he wouldn’t stop at a necklace, either. he’d want your blood in multiple places, multiple vials, maybe even a painting or three. “oh, we’re doing this, huh? alright. i’ll need more of you,” type of way. once you open that door there is no closing it, so you really have to be careful about it with him.

when you wear it he’d watch you with that obsessive, possessive gaze. he’d want to know where it is at all times, how you treat it. if you forget it one day? expect a darker side of him, angry, with that twisted sense of ownership rising to the surface.

because this? this is more than a necklace. it’s art. it’s identity. it’s you, forever a part of him, and him a part of you.

⏜︵ WESLEY. 𐂯

WESLEY would be thrown off by the idea at first. he’s not exactly someone who’s used to open displays of affection or anything that feels too personal. for him, everything is about control and efficiency. when you bring it up, he’d probably blink at you a couple of times, trying to make sense of what you’ve just said. he’s already thinking about the logistics — is this a trick? a joke? something to get under his skin? his first instinct would be to shrug it off, but there’s something about the way you ask that makes him pause.

“you want my blood in a necklace?” he’d repeat slowly, voice a little unsure, the usual smoothness replaced with confusion. his brain would scramble to process it. blood, in a necklace. his blood. he’s used to violence, used to the gritty side of life, but the idea of someone wanting a piece of him like that? that’s a level of intimacy that feels a little personal. too intense for someone like wesley, who keeps everything wrapped up tightly in neat little boxes.

he’d be thrown off, definitely, but a part of him would be intrigued. there’s something in him that would quietly admire the boldness of the request, the trust that comes with it. even if he doesn’t quite understand it, a small part of him would think it’s... kind of cool? it’s not something anyone else would ever ask of him, and that in itself would make it a bit of an oddball connection.

after a little while, once he’s had time to process, he’d give in. reluctantly at first, though. he’d get you a necklace, sure, something simple, understated — nothing flashy. he’d probably go for something practical, like a small vial or a pendant, but still classy enough to feel like it means something. he’d also get a little curious about your intentions. “why do you want this?” he’d ask, not in a judgmental way, but in that calculating way he has, always trying to figure people out. he doesn’t fully get it.

once you wear it he’d notice quietly, without saying much. it would settle into his mind, and even though he doesn’t fully understand it, it would be something he values. and if someone ever made a comment about it, if it became a point of conversation? oh, he’d defend it. in his own subtle way, he’d be fiercely protective over it. the idea of you holding his blood, something of him that no one else has, would stir something in him. maybe not romantic or passionate, but certainly possessive in a way that makes him feel like you’re his.

he wouldn’t wear one himself — he’s not the type for something that sentimental — but the fact that you want his blood would still feel important. like he’s somehow been marked by you, and that’s a thought he’s not entirely opposed to.

★ a / n : i loved this request send me more niche lil requests like this

started 4.24.2025. finished 4.26.2025.

( masterlist. )

©️ monicfever 2025

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astralibrary · 1 year ago

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hi @marykedoesart, this is my gift to you for @natsume-ss' spring exchange!

you said you like tanuma/natsume and heartfelt, emotional themes so i went very symbolic with this, haha. i really love the idea of using imagery from the fish pond in tanuma's backyard to represent these two and their dynamic, so that became the concept i ran with. i'll explain my whole thought process below, but in the meantime i hope you like it! 💖

pls bear with me here bc this is going to be very long and wordy lol

so there's a definite theme of separate worlds here; while the environments are both pretty abstract, the idea was that tanuma is sitting in his house looking out towards his backyard where the pond is, representing the "real world," whereas natsume is in a more fantastical underwater setting, representing the world of youkai. also there's the implication that he's sitting at the bottom of the pond, aka completely immersed in that other world, while tanuma can only perceive hints of it in the reflected light & shadow on the wall.

tanuma's side is lit by the glow of the setting sun, and natsume's by an otherworldly blue light. also, there's their clothes: tanuma is in his regular school uniform while natsume is in a yukata, something that pretty much all humanoid youkai wear.

next, their poses; they're both sitting exactly the same way as a reflection of each other but natsume has his head bowed while tanuma is looking up; this is meant to represent their different approaches to their relationship. natsume is definitely more closed off, both as a defense mechanism and because he wants to protect tanuma & keep him away from the dangers of youkai. tanuma, though, is open and contemplative, maybe even hopeful; he wants to be let in and he wants to help, even if it is dangerous.

the lighting reinforces these conflicting attitudes, with tanuma's side being brighter and warmer while natsume's is darker and colder, representing this sort of "optimism vs pessimism" dynamic.

so now, the fish. the bridge between their different worlds, basically. on natsume's side it's a real fish while on tanuma's it's a shadow cast on the wall, which is obviously the original conceit of the scene in the source material: natsume can literally see the fish, while tanuma can only see its shadow. still, even if it manifests differently, it still exists to both of them, so it's a connection between them concerning youkai.

so they're both in their separate worlds, but because of this connection they affect each other, maybe in small ways at first; as the fish crosses over the barrier it leaves little effects, little disturbances behind. on natsume's side, bubbles drift up towards the surface, little pockets of air like little lifelines showing the way, and on tanuma's side little droplets fall and create ripples in the reflected water, these small things that grow and grow outward until they're not so small anymore. little feelings that bubble up and ripple out, hoping to reach the other in their own way.

the fish brings these feelings across the barrier, endlessly looping around them as they endlessly call out to each other, trying to navigate this relationship they have; it's possible to bridge the gap between them as long as they look and listen and learn to embrace the things that make them different just as much as those that bring them together.

and that's about it! my goal was to make a symbolic piece about their struggle to understand each other but with a hopeful note, so hopefully that comes across! i hope my explanation at least sort of made sense and wasn't too confusing! (to be completely transparent i only had about half of that in mind while i was drawing it, the rest sort of came together as i was writing this. neat!)

and finally, here's a still frame in the original higher resolution so you can see it a bit nicer! 💖

#natsuyuuspringex2024 #natsume yuujinchou #natsume's book of friends #natsume takashi #tanuma kaname #tanunatsu #natsuyuuss: it's a smaller exchange so your gift can be more simple!#me immediately: I Am Going To Animate Something #and then i did!#i love these two and their magical fish imagery #and i hope you do too!#rieley draws #rieley animates #digital #fanart #(i will be posting on twitter too just. give me a min for that one lol #im not as used to formatting over there orz)

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marsmaladeee · 1 month ago

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it's been a whole year since how to build an ocean: instructions by the one and only dirtbag boyband @bearsintreesofficial was released!!! how and what!!!!

as we approach the Next Era i wanted to do a drawing to commemorate everything that's happened in this one. this is maybe my biggest drawing ever and i've put a lot of thought into it and it has soooo many references to the past era in it!! so i'll explain all those under the cut :))

i love this album so so so much and i hope this drawing conveys even a little bit of that!!!

i took everything i knew about the themes of the album and tried to distill it into one piece. the band's mentioned that the album is themed around coming home, reconnecting with your hometown, feeling lost and not really knowing your place in the world. so they're stranded in the middle of the ocean on a boat and trying to navigate their way back home!! haha. it's based more directly on a line from idwba - "when i step onto that ferry, and the man demands his pay". initially i had the boatman charon in the drawing too, but i ended up taking him out as it was kind of confusing!

i wanted it to have a kind of whimsical, fantastical vibe so there's a tree growing out of the boat. why? just for funsies!! on a qna i asked what the band thought the biggest visual symbols from this era were, and they answered maps, the ocean and scrapbooky vibes, so i've given the ocean is a big feature in the drawing. that's what the album's named after!! . callum and george are reading through some maps (callum's are screenshots of croydon on google maps or OS maps of the croydon area, and george is holding the map from the album cover). for the scrapbook vibes i've made a version that looks a bit like a scrapbook page, and a regular version as well.

over on iain and nick's side there's the cake callum baked for the baby shower announcement stream. there's a vase full of daffodils like from that one photoshoot. there's the banner they used to announce ttllm on tiktok, dj l8 nite kitten's head from the iwfc mv, and iain's infamous jleeves. there's two books in front of nick: flights by olga tokarczuk, which the album is named after, and the myth of Sisyphus by albert camus, which is referenced in injured crow. iain is drinking coffee with a raven flying above them whilst nick drinks hot chocolate, and there's also a crow with a bandaged wing - an injured crow, if you will :)

beside callum and george there's the giant mechanical skull callum gave to george on stage, the wizard hat nick had on tour and the bubble gun from the seaside tour. there's also George Jr, the raccoon hand from the spill the beans challenges on the subathon, and the chillies which were also from the subathon. there's also a can of chickpeas. this one's a funny one because iain actually told me to put it there themself! not even a joke!! i asked for an object to put in the drawing and they said a vase (which holds the daffodils) and a chickpea. i drew a can of chickpeas instead because a singular chickpea kind of just got lost in the drawing.

on the back wall of the boat there's a number of engravings. behind nick there's a bike for cycling, jaded - a song that was meant to go onto htbaoi but never made it - and a line from your favourite coat which was used as a clue for the arg leading up to the album announcement (thanks to @asherapparently for sending me that!!). the engravings on the far right side are the lil ghost from the ttllm music video, and the boatman taken directly from the album cover. i mentioned before that i had to omit him from the drawing so i thought i'd pay homage to him here.

finally, there're paper aeroplanes from your favourite coat, confetti for all you get is confetti, and the sign says '463 miles', like the bus route mentioned in henry says. on the side of the boat are a number of photos taken from instagram & twitter posts from this era, and the symbols from the album cover and the back of the vinyl are engraved onto the side of the boat - each one representing a different song. the streamers tied to the tree are in all the colours of the album.

bears in trees if you see this - your album is beautiful and wonderful and i love it dearly!!!

#bears in trees #marsmalart #i just. i love this album so much man

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kaiser1nsfw · 10 months ago

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ᯓ★ hot mess .ᐟ

𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗸𝗮 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗼 𝘆𝗮𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼. you are a hot mess, even making one when your two best friends are all over you. ౨ৎ wc :: 6.1k ˖ ࣪⊹ consensual, threesome, eating out, fingering, nipple play.

๑⁠˙ note ! this is my first time attempt to write smut. please do enjoy nevertheless !

What better way to enjoy a summer day than at the beach? You had suggested the idea of craving the cool embrace of the ocean waves. Endo had already agreed to put on his swimsuit, while Takiishi, as usual, went along with whatever kept you in his sight.

Clad in your new two-piece swimsuit, you couldn't help but notice the extra attention you were getting today, especially from your two best friends, who now looked more like personal bodyguards. They trailed behind you like protective pitbulls, sharp glares warning off anyone who dared to look your way. Not even the sandcastles built by children were spared, well Endo didn’t want to step up on them, and Takiishi couldn't care less.

They sat on the towels, their muscular frames relaxed on the sand while you stood before them, arms crossed, casting a long shadow over their sun-kissed skin. Endo looked up at you with that soft, gentle smile he always had, while Takiishi just stared, his expression harder to read.

“Why did you get in my way?” the redhead asked, his voice laced with curiosity, maybe even a hint of annoyance. He wasn't used to being interrupted, not when he was about to do something he found so … entertaining. But it was you, so he couldn't care less in the end.

You sighed, affection in your tone as you explained, “This is supposed to be a vacation so we can all rest. Leave the fighting for when we are back in town. I don't want to deal with this. I just want to have fun and relax.”

Takiishi’s gaze softened slightly at your words, though he wouldn't admit it out loud. He respected you enough to let it slide, even if he wanted to punch those idiots for what they’d said about him, about you. But when you stepped closer, your eyes scanning his face, he couldn't hold onto that irritation for long.

“You're starting to look more like Sebastian than Ariel.” you teased, that sweet smile blooming across your face as you knelt beside him. His cheeks flushed, a little redder than before, and you reached for the sunscreen spray, gently applying it to his face. The soft fabric of your swimsuit top shifted slightly, drawing his gaze downward for just a moment. The way it hugged your curves perfectly didn't escape his notice, and he found himself distracted by how effortlessly the material clung to your skin. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, lingering for just a second too long.

You leaned in a little. focusing on spreading the sunscreen evenly, your fingertips brushing his red cheeks, and he couldn't help but notice how the sun had kissed your skin too, making it glow just a little more. Takiishi tried to ignore the way his pulse quickened as he tore his focus away from your neckline, attempting to focus on anything else. But the softness in your voice, combined with the warmth of your touch was doing something to him that he wasn't entirely prepared for. You noticed, of course. How could you not? The way his gaze lingered, the slight tension—it was almost cute how he was trying so hard to keep his composure. You smiled, a little more knowingly this time, your hands still resting on his cheeks as you finished smoothing the sunscreen.

“You should me bore careful, Chika,” you murmured, concerned about him “I’d hate to see you get sunburned out here.”

As you finished with him, Endo, who had been watching the whole interaction with quiet amusement, leaned back on his hands, a playful glint in his eyes. “Can you rub my back?” he asked, his voice dipping into that smooth, teasing tone that always made you smile. The sight of him made you swallow involuntarily, the infinity symbol tattoo on his neck catching your eye. It matched perfectly with the necklace he’d given you, a gift and a reminder of your unbreaking bond.

You rolled your eyes but couldn't resist his request. “You are impossible, you know what?” you muttered, though there was no bite in your words. Grabbing the sunscreen again, you moved behind him, kneeling to apply the cream on his broad back. You couldn't help but notice how his muscles tensed slightly under your touch, the warmth of his body radiating through your fingers. You took your time, massaging the lotion into his inked skin, your nails tracing over the tattoos that decorated his arms.

Endo let out a pleased sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. “You are so nice to us, Y/N. it makes me fall for you all over again.” His words weren’t new, but the way he said them now, with the sun setting behind you, made your pulse quicken, making the moment more special.

You chuckled, trying to keep your tone light despite the way your heart danced in your chest. “Someone has to be, or you’d destroy everything.”

Finally done with Endo, you wiped your hands on the towel and laid behind the two of them, their bodies shielding you from the remaining rays. The tattooed boy looked over his shoulder, his teal eyes filled with a soft fondness, as a blush appeared on his cheeks at the sight of you. Meanwhile, Takiishi stared straight ahead, but you could tell from the way he let himself relax at your presence, that he appreciated you even if he wouldn't say it out loud.

The calming sound of the waves and the warmth of the sand beneath you lulled you into a peaceful sleep. The last thing you remember was the conversation between your best friends. When you finally stirred, the sun was dipping, casting a golden glow across the beach. Rubbing your eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you slowly sat up.

As your vision cleared, you noticed the boys were still in the same position when you drifted off. Endo noticed you first, his lips curling into a teasing smile as he stretched his long limbs. “Hmm, someone decided to wake up,” he quipped, voice playful as always, “The sleeping beauty has risen to shine upon us~”

Takiishi followed, rising to his feet and stretching his arms above his head. His toned body came into full view now before he let his arms fall back down. “How long was I sleeping?” you asked, voice still hoarse from sleep.

The redhead glanced at you, his expression unreadable, but his tone was casual. “Two hours.” Your eyes widened, as you scrambled to get up, brushing off the sand that clung to your skin. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” Endo laughed at your reaction, moving closer to put arm around you. “Relax, sweetcheeks. We’ve got plenty of time before we head to the fair.” His tone was soothing, and despite your panic, you could not help but smile, he always used nicknames to calm you down and it somehow worked.

Soon enough, the three of you made your way back to the Airbnb as the night began to settle in. Renting an apartment together was to keep the peace—less stress dealing with Takiishi’s outbursts and Endo’s casual approach to managing them. And it was better than paying for hotel rooms, and more money if either of them broke something.

Once inside, you wasted no time going first into the bathroom. “Please, no fighting while I’m gone,” you warned, giving them a pointed look before closing the door. You loved them, they were your best friends of course. How could you not love them? It was charming the way Endo always told you sweet nothings, and Takiishi took part in the physical comfort. They are always there for you, protecting you like an angel, and you feel like one despite knowing you were not.

The hot water felt like Heaven against your skin, washing away the sand, and by the time you finished, you felt refreshed, no longer feeling the need to sleep. Putting on some shirt and padding out into the living room, where you found Takiishi lounging on the couch, relaxed as his eyes were closed, head tilted back. He looked so dreamy, like a prince but the sound of the shower running in the background made him open his eyes. Endo had taken your place in the bathroom, leaving you two alone.

Without a second thought, you moved to the couch and nestled into Takiishi’s side, laying your head on his shoulder, as the scent of the sea still clung to him. You were wearing one of his shirts, an old one with a faded skull, or was it an oni, you couldn't tell but it didn't matter. It was oversized on you with no need to wear shorts.

His hand made its way to your thigh, caressing with a gentle touch, slender fingers moved beneath the hem of your shirt, and his grip tightened as he squeezed your waist. The sudden touch made you arch a little, but it was a comforting sensation, one that made you snuggle closer to him. Takiishi didn’t stop his soothing motions, he wanted to feel more, do more.

Just then, you heard the bathroom door open, and Endo walked in, his dark wet hair glued to his forehead, as he was dressed in a simple top and pants. His gaze immediately found yours, eyes softening as he smiled.

But before you could return the smile, Takiishi’s hand moved to your chin, cupping your face and turning your head, your attention, towards him again. Your breath hitched slightly, as your eyes locked with his golden ones. His lips were inches apart, so close, but he didn’t close the gap. You could sense his hesitation, the way he held back, waiting for you to make the next move. You didn’t do anything, instead, you remained perfectly still, heart pounding in your chest. His thumb brushed against your cheek, it was a gentle and possessive gesture, as his other hand was still resting on your waist.

Endo watched from across the room, observing the scene unfolding in front of him, expecting him to say something, as you felt the weight of his gaze on you. He moved, the couch dipping as he took a seat on the other side of you. You felt the way his chest was pressed at your back. His inked arms slipped around your waist, pulling you gently against him until your back was fully resting on him. You were sandwiched between them now, your body open and vulnerable to Takiishi, but secured against Endo’s chest.

Takiishi’s focus flickered down to your lips, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your cheek, as Endo’s breath tickled your ear, he was close enough that you could hear his heartbeat, that matched your own. It was intoxicating, they were intoxicating, and you couldn't think clearly or breathe normally. The tattooed hand gripped your waist making your stomach clench and the redhead's finger finally stopped, you thought he was finally going to lean in and kiss you but instead, he spoke “You are making it really hard to hold back.” a rough whisper that made you wonder what it would feel like to give in.

His words were something unexpected but you still didn't know how to react, you sat there like a doll, their pretty doll. You could feel yourself blushing, getting warm, much hotter than sitting in the sun on the beach. The way you were being caught between the two of them, with one’s fiery gaze holding you captive and the other’s strong arms securing you so you wouldn’t run away.

Endo’s free hand came up to brush your hair aside, his fingertips grazing your neck in a way that made your breath hitch. He leaned in, lips hovering just above your ear. “What do you want, angel?” he murmured, his voice tempting you to answer with your deepest and darkest desires. The question hung in the air, it made its way to your brain, but you could not process it, to focus on the way the hands on your body.

You wanted to speak, to answer but no words seemed to appear from the way you opened your mouth, only a slight moan, and that was enough for them.

Takiishi’s hand, which was still on your face, tilted your chin up, forcing you to look directly at him. He wanted you to look at him when he was so close to devouring you. “Tell us,” he urged, commanding you to admit what you were feeling, as his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. But instead of speaking you simply leaned into his touch, eyes closing for a moment as you savored the way his finger was tracing your lip. When you opened them again, his gaze had only deepened and you felt Endo’s hand slide a little higher up your waist, his fingers touching the bare skin under your shirt.

The three of you stayed like that for a moment, one that you have been longing for so long. You have been longing for them, every second of the day, wanting them close, for both of them to take care of you, to be there and never let go.

“Looks like you forgot about the fair,” Edno whispered into your ear, his breath warm against your skin, the teasing in his voice was unmistakable. But there was also a hidden hunger, a need, that matched your own desires.

Takiishi’s hand slid down to your collarbone, his fingers brushing the fabric of your shirt aside, “We can find our way to have fun,” his voice low and rough, you didn’t respond, you couldn’t, as their hands began to explore your body, every inch of you. Endo’s fingers trailed up your sides, his touch was gentle, and each stroke against your bare flesh made you sink into the pleasure. Takiishi wasn’t far behind, he tugged the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head. The fabric slid from your skin, your breath coming in short, quick gasps, leaving you bare before them, in all your beauty and grace, and they couldn't even take their eyes off you.

He leaned in again, his lips finally closed in the distance, capturing yours in a possessive and demanding kiss, as his hand cradled the back of your head as he deepened it. Takiishi Chika was asserting his dominance over you, just as much Endo Yamato was doing when his lips trailed along your neck, leaving a path of lingering and wet kisses. His teeth nipped at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and you could sense his smile against your skin as he latched onto the tender flesh, sucking and biting it. His hands were everywhere, a soft moan escaped your lips as they slid up, caressing your ribs before wrapping to cup your breast. It was overwhelming, everything was - the combination of both of them on you.

Endo’s lips moved lower, leaving love bites along your shoulder, tongue flicking out, soothing each spot he’d claimed, before moving on to the next. He was taking his time to ensure each mark was perfect, but despite his hunger, he controlled himself, making you gasp into Takiishi’s mouth. With every bite, every kiss, your mind began to blur, lost in the sensations of their hands and mouths on your body.

Any thoughts about the fair or anything else were slipping away. Takiishi’s hand slid up to cup your breast, his thumb brushing over your hardened nipple, drawing moans and melodic pleases from your lips that were quickly swallowed by his hungry kiss. Endo’s hands moved lower, slipping between our thighs, teasing you with the lightest that left you wanting more. He groaned against your neck as he felt your body respond to his touch, his desire clear in the way his grip tightened.

“Mine.” Takiishi said against your lips, voice full of need as his hand slid down to grip your waist, pulling you even closer to him, while his other hand joined Endo’s, both of your best friends driving you to the point of ever consuming pleasure. And you let them have you. You gave in completely, your mind and body surrendering to what they offered, your hands clutching at them, needing their touch, the sound of their voices murmuring your name. Their warmth, their closeness — you needed them, craved it.

This wasn’t the first time you had been intimate with them, but it had always been with just one of them at a time—never both together like this. You and Endo had shared your first time, leaving only the two of you tangled in the sheets. With Takiishi, it was raw and intense, like he was pouring every bit of his pent-up emotion into you. But this was a new step into your friendship.

The word “best friend” lost its meaning a long time ago. It was a label that didn’t define your relationship anymore, too small and insignificant to tie the unspoken truth that bound the three of you. You were more than friends but less than lovers. After all, best friends don’t lust after each other the way you did, they don’t want to claim and devour each other, and they don’t love each other. Endo liked you, and Takiishi, Takiishi liked you, and you knew you liked both of them. It was a twisted relationship, one you didn’t want to let go of. Not when it felt this good, not when the three of you fit together so perfectly, even in the messiest moments in your lives.

And right now, you are a hot, moaning mess beneath them. Takiishi’s hand slid down, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your panties, pulling them quickly down. His patience was starting to run out. The cool air against your bare skin made you shiver, but the warmth of his hand replaced it. You were busy too, tugging at his shirt, wanting to get rid of the buried between your bodies. Your fingers grazed the hard lines on his chest as you stripped him bare. The sight of him, and his slightly tanned skin made you press your hips together. When you were at the beach earlier, you did your best to hold back. You had seen him like this before, had felt every inch of him, but tonight it felt different.

Fingers brushing against your most sensitive spot, making you part your lips and cry out softly, hips bucking at his against touch. You were so down bad for them, every nerve ending on fire as they pushed you closer and closer over the bridge of sanity, they were the only ones who could and deserve to have you like that.

You glanced over at your other best friend, catching the way he watched you with Takiishi. There was something, almost delicate in his gaze that made your heart race. He was drunk at the sight of you as if he was lost in some kind of ecstasy, on a rollercoaster ride, and the way his chest heaved with each breath as he struggled to keep his composure, told you everything you needed to know.

When you were done with Takiishi’s shirt, you turned your whole attention to Endo, leaning in to press your lips against his in a kiss he responded immediately. There was something different in the way he kissed you, something more urgent—as if he needed to feel you, to taste you, to lose himself in you.

Takiishi’s hands didn’t stay idle either, exploring the newly exposed skin of your hips and your thighs, his touch making you crumble, feeling lost in the way he was so gentle, despite him wanting to ruin you. He pressed against you in the front while Endo held you from behind, you were trapped as each of them pulled you in their direction, yet you couldn’t imagine a more perfect place to be.

As Takiishi’s fingers teased the sensitive skin of your thighs, you moaned into Endo’s mouth, your back arching as your body reacted by reflex, an instinct that was only beginning to manifest itself for them. Kissing and nipping at the delicate skin on your lower parts, while a tattooed hand brushed the underside of your breast. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the quiet hum of pleasure when they touched, kissed, and held you. They worshiped you like a goddess.

They continued to claim you in ways that were both familiar and entirely new, you knew that whatever was this between the three of you, it was something that did not need explanation or clarification because when you are in love, you don't need to know to feel it. You gave yourself over to it, letting the pleasure wash over you, drowning in a contract of being utterly, completely theirs.

The redhead’s lips traveled down from your legs to your core, leaving marks on their way. Sinking his teeth, you were aware of every moment, every breath, every flick of his tongue but then he paused, hands firmly gripping your waist as he kissed the soft skin there, his breath warm against your cold flesh.

Endo, still behind you, his fingers circling the sensitive buds of your nipples, making your whole body to be covered in goosebumps. You gasped, arching into his touch and your head fell back against his shoulder.

You could feel Takiishi’s breath against your inner thighs, his hair tickling you when his tongue finally flicked out to taste you as a loud moan escaped you feeling the pleasure of his mouth on your folds. He was roughly moving and exploring, fingers digging into your hips to hold you steady. He was going back and forth from soft and teasing licks to deeper and more quick movements. The feeling of his mouth, he was eating you like you were his last and most favorite meal, the pressure building within until you thought you might burst.

Endo’s hand countied to work their magic, punching and rolling, diving you into new depths of pleasure. He could feel the way your body trembled, your breath came in short, desperate gasps and it only made him more eager to see you fall apart by him and Takiishi combined. His mouth moved to your jaw, his teeth exposed now in a twisted smile, “You look so beautiful like this,” voice low and rough with desire “So perfect.”

The dual sensations—Takiishi’s tongue making you twist, Endo’s hands shamelessly playing with you—became too much. They haven't even started. Your whole body was pushed towards the verge of collapsing, and the way Takiishi moved faster, his lips sucking as he was being unbelievably fierce, he was going for it, all the way with the heat coiling tighter in your belly.

Endo pressed himself harder against you, feeling your body tensing as his hands never left your upper parts, fingers toying with your nipples in a way that made your vision blur from the pleasure. His mouth was back at your neck, kissing and biting, never stopped talking, “Relax, doll,” he urged, as sweet as commanding you, to make you understand that they are doing this for your enjoyment. “Let us make you feel good.”

You were helpless to do nothing but obey. And you felt it, that tension inside you snapped, body shaking when you came at Takiishi’s tongue, your cries were muffled against Endo’s shoulder. But the boy who made you orgasmed didn't stop, didn't relent as he countied to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of drop, he was drunk to the taste of you.

Endo’s hands finally stilled, his touch gentle now, almost soothing, as he held you close, comforting you. Takiishi slowly withdrew, giving your hips one final squeeze before he kissed his way back up, his lips brushing over your flushed skin as he moved to rejoin you. When his eyes met yours, there was a smirk playing on his lips, he was satisfied as for now.

“You taste even better than I remember,” he leaned in to capture your lips and you could taste yourself from his mouth, feeling a little bit sticky but sweet like honey.

Endo’s hand cupped your face, tilting you as he claimed your lips next, his kiss was softer, more lingering, as if savoring the taste of you, smiling into the kiss. Pulling away his eyes were filled with nothing but pure adoration.

There was no need for words, no need to define what had just happened. The three of you tangled together breathless, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure. The fair, and every plan for the night had been forgotten, replaced by a different kind of fun, one that made you feel so incredibly good.

As you slowly came down from your high, breathing heavily as little tears started to form in your eyes, you felt Takiishi’s hands tightened on your hips, again. He wasn't finished. In fact, it seemed he was just getting started. His tongue countied to torment you, pace quickening as if he was starving for more, desperate to feel you fall apart beneath him one more time.

It was overwhelming, and though you had just climaxed, your body was already heating up again, responding to the attention he was giving you. You could feel the need building, your fingers threading through his long reddish hair, gripping it as you pressed his face closer to your folds.

Takiishi let out a deep, satisfied moan against you, the vibrations sending another shockwave of pleasure through your body. He was completely lost in you, his movements became more urgent and frantic, he devoured you like a possessed man. He couldn't get enough of you, plunging deeper, his lips sucking harder. You were so sweet, so perfect — you were his’s. The way he was going at you—he was intoxicated by you, by the way your body was enjoying him, and nothing else mattered. Endo watched in awe, he was smitten by the way Takiishi was consuming you, the desire in him as he countied to pleasure you, oblivious to anything else around him. It was a sight both frustrating and appealing.

He was impatient, the thought of making you feel good too and not only touching and marking you … But he had to wait, he didn't want to get into Takiishi’s way.

His hand traced along your side, brushing against the soft curve of your waist, his breath hot. “Takiishi…” voice was filled with need and impatience. He wanted his turn, but Takiishi was completely devoted, so focused on making you come undone again, that he didn't seem to hear, he didn't want to.

Endo’s hand slid down to your thigh, as he watched Takiish’s head move between your legs, his tongue working you over as if you were nothing but a crying and whimpering mess. Every moan, every cry that escaped your lips made his patience wear thinner, his own desire burning to have you growing with every passing second.

You were on the verge of coming again, as you gripped Takiishi’s hair tighter, pulling him even closer to you. Your hips bucked against his face, and him in return responded with grunts, and more fierce licks abusing you, pushing you another blissful orgasm. Your beauty was a wild contrast to the raw and intense moment—face framed by messy stand of your hair, eyes glowing, pupils dilated filled with so much love and lust, that made both of the boys smitten.

“Y-yamato…” your voice was a desperate plea, turning your head to catch his gaze, but your mind was still hazy, all you could think of was the way Takiishi was making you feel—how he was driving you mad with every press of his lips. “I want Yamato… Chika, stop!”

But he couldn't stop, too far gone, mind corrupted to taste every last bit of you. He didn't hear your words, too drunk and full of your juices that mixed with his saliva. His hands must have left huge scars from so much pressing.

Diving deeper, moving faster, keeping up.

Endo never got angry without a reason, especially with Takiishi, as he tried to maintain some kind of self control. But the way you moaned his name, the way your body trembled beneath the other’s touch, was driving him crazy. He wanted to be the one to push you, to feel you clench around him as you reached your high, he wanted you too.

But he knew Takiishi would not back up, so he kissed you again, and again, and again — pouring his frustration as his tongue tangled with yours, trying to distract you from the person between your legs.

But even as you kissed him back, your body was still betraying you, hips moving desperate for more. Endo could feel it too, he knew that you won't focus on him in your current state.

“Fuck…” he groaned against your lips, hands squeezing yout breasts as he tried to keep calm, to keep himself occupied. “Man, let me have her.”

Your thoughts dissolve, your brain malfunctioning, heart shaking, body trembling. The familiar sensation forming in your belly, ready to snap, and even though you wanted Endo, Takiishi’s attention was making you go utterly insane.

The dark-haired boy could see it, feel it, there was no stopping Takiishi once he set his mind on something. So Endo did the only thing he could—he whispered in your ear, slowly and taunting, “Come for him. Let him feel how much you need it.”

And with those words, as if you were under some spell, a form of some illusion, the tension inside you snapped, as Takiishi forced another orgasm as he swallowed everything to the last drop, his tongue never slowing its relentless pace even if you were crying for him to stop because it was getting too much. “Chika, please, I-I can't take it anymore…” you were left completely breathless as you were suffocating in the pleasure, but you will take it along with the pain.

Endo was heart-stricken by how pretty you looked, as you slumped back on his chest, your legs were sore as you hissed just by the slight adjustment. He knew that there would be time for him later, it was just the beginning of the night after all. For now he will hold you close, to calm you down, someone had to, he knows you let him have his turn sooner or later.

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the aftershocks of your intense climax was still so overwhelming, leaving you on the brink of overstimulation. But, you needed to please Endo, to feel him, no time for exhaustion and resting.

Turning your head, eyes finding teal ones, his expression was filled with longing and that same lust Takiishi showed you minutes ago. Your fingers brushing against his arm in a silent plea. You didn't have to say a word; your eyes told enough. Endo understood you, always did, and the way you looked at him now—needy and still ready for more—set his heart racing.

A slow, almost sinister smile spread across his face as he gently repositioned you, his hands guided you onto your back as you felt the sickness between your thighs, evidence of how Takiishi had ruined you. But you were ready for more, you always are.

His fingers tracing the curves of your breasts, and your waist before settling between your legs. The first touch against your sensitive folds made you shiver, reacting to his familiar and gentle touch. He started slowly, easing his way back into you, fingers sliding through your wetness before he pushed one inside you, then another.

You cried, your tears flowed like a waterfall, they couldn't stop when your body arched when you felt him stretch you, fingers curling inside you in a way that made your toes curl. He knew you inside and out, like a pirate diving into the deep and dangerous waters, he didn't need a map, he had already been there.

“Pretty girl…” Endo murmured, as he watched the way your eyes fluttered shut as you lost yourself in him. His free hand moved to your face, brushing away the tears that had gathered at the corners, a more delicate gesture that contrasted with the toughness of his other hand. “So perfect for us,” he added, his own arousal evident in the way his voice trembled with want.

You could barely respond, or get what he was saying, too lost in the sensation of his fingers working their magic inside you. He was slow, wanting to make you enjoy this, drawing out every moan as he was about to make you come, even though you were still trembling from the last wave. His lips brushed against yours as he whispered “That’s it, yeah…I want to feel you.” His voice was as gentle as his pace.

Takiishi, who had been watching the entire time, couldn't tear his gaze away from you. The way your body responded to Endo, the soft whimpers—it was like a dream and it made him pumped again, even if he had you moments before.

Endo’s fingers moved faster now, his thumb brushing against your clit in a perfect rhythm, sending another wave of pleasure through your already overstimulated body. You could feel it coming and this time it would be even more intense.

You tried to hold it, but he was not trying to do that. Feeling the tears gathering in your eyes again, the painful pleasure was too much to bear, but you didn't want him to stop—you needed this, needed him.

“Yama…plea—,” you could barely form the words, trembling as you begged him for the sweet oblivion that he could bring you.

“So mesmerizing…” Endo moaned as he watched you, his gaze filled with something close to worship. He leaned down, lips brushing against yours in a soft, tender kiss, his fingers never slowing down and then it hit you—like a tidal wave crashing over you. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, your hands gripping Endo’s arms as you cried out, your entire being consumed by the sudden overload of both pressure and satisfaction. Clenching around his fingers, muscle tightening, leaving you breathless.

He didn't stop, working you through your climax, until you were left shaking, slacking against the couch. His other hand countied to caress your face as he showered you with soft praises. His eyes flickered down to his fingers, stull coated with your essence. He hesitated for a moment but slowly brought them to his lips. His eyes slowly closed as he tasted you, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks, he was so in love with you that tasting you was one of the things he wished he could do every day and night.

He let out a quiet sigh, tongue darting out to trace each fingertip, savoring every last bit if you. His lashes brushed his cheeks as he opened his eyes meeting your gaze with a look that was both shy and charming. A smile tugged the corner of his lips, the blush deepening as he noticed your wide-eyed stare.

“You did so good, doll,” slowly withdrawing his fingers from his mouth glancing away from a moment, as if he was embarrassed by his boldness. Endo went to kiss you again, wanting to calm you down with his soft lips moving with yours.

You were a vision of divine beauty—a breathtaking mess that seemed to transcend mortal limits. As you lay there, skin glowing with otherworldly radiance, like a goddess caught in the throes of her own allure. Your smile, soft and knowing, was a silent promise of devotion and surrender. The twisted relationship had never been crystal clear, but in this sacred space it felt like the most natural and normal thing. Enveloped in their adoration, a cherished jewel in their midst, and they in return were part of you—your most treasured devotee. You were theirs, and they were yours, and that's how it should be.

Their eyes roamed once again over your tired body, taking in the way their adoration colored your skin; neck, shoulders and stomach were adorned with love bites, a constellation of marks that told the story behind their passion. Legs and thighs, too, had their imprint, a vivid display of their devotion. It was a sight to behold—a canvas of sensuality, painted by their affection, love and lust.

Yet, despite that, their love and hunger were far from sated. They weren't done admiring you, nor were they done ruining you. You knew that, there is still more to do but for now they will let you rest because whatever was about to happen next it would be just as intense, overwhelming, and just as perfect.

taglist ✦ @stunie @maruflix @fushigurioo @slerixx

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mrsfancyferrari · 11 months ago

Text

Timeless Desire

Summary: You had always been Mercedes fan since you were young and it didn't change when you became Max's best friend. Based on British Grand Prix.

Song: Me and Your Mama - Childish Gambino

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <33

Word count: 12.6k

MASTERLIST - F1

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

You had always been a Mercedes fan since you were young, and it hadn't changed when you became Max Verstappen's best friend. The British Grand Prix had always been a special occasion for you, being a Brit yourself.

This time, however, you decided to wear your signed Mercedes shirt to the paddock, attracting a lot of attention.

As you walked into the paddock, you could feel the eyes of the public on you, a mix of curiosity and admiration. The atmosphere was electric, with fans and team members bustling around, preparing for the big race.

You caught a few whispers and nods of recognition, some even pointing at your shirt with approving smiles. It felt surreal to be in the midst of such excitement, wearing the symbol of your childhood dreams.

Max spotted you from across the paddock and made his way over, a grin spreading across his face as he saw the shirt. "Are you ready for me to win again?" he said with a wink, clapping you on the back.

"Not in a million years Maxie," You replied, nudging your shoulders to his.

Being here, surrounded by the roar of the engines and the energy of the fans, you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of belonging.

You followed Max to the Red Bull garage, your Mercedes shirt still drawing a few curious stares from the Red Bull staff. Most of them were used to seeing you around, though, and had long accepted your unwavering loyalty to Mercedes.

The mechanics were busy fine-tuning Max's car, their focus undeterred by your presence. As you stood there, you could feel the palpable tension and anticipation in the air, a reminder of how high the stakes were for everyone involved.

Max chatted with his engineers, occasionally glancing back at you with a playful smirk. You knew he thrived on the friendly rivalry between the two of you. Despite the different team colors, the camaraderie and mutual respect you shared with Max and the Red Bull crew were undeniable.

It was moments like these that made you appreciate the sport even more, knowing that beneath the fierce competition, there was a deep bond that transcended team allegiances.

As Max was engrossed in a conversation with his team, you decided to take advantage of the moment and slip away for a while.

You couldn't miss out on the chance to connect with other like-minded individuals. The other wives of girlfriends of the drivers welcomed you into their circle.

"So what's the story behind the Mercedes shirt?" Rebecca asked curiously.

"Oh I'm just a big fan of Mercedes, especially Lewis Hamilton," you explained with a smile.

"While dating Max Verstappen? That must be hard to do," Lily Muni commented.

You blushed, taken aback by her comment. "Oh, no, Max and I are just friends," you quickly clarified, feeling a bit flustered.

Rebecca and Lily exchanged glances, clearly still intrigued, but they let the subject drop as the conversation shifted to other topics.

In your thoughts, you couldn't help but replay Lily's comment. The idea of dating Max had never crossed your mind in a serious way; your bond was built on years of shared experiences and a mutual love for racing.

Yet, the notion lingered, making you question if perhaps there was more beneath the surface of your friendship.

You had such strong feelings for Max, but you were terrified of rejection.

He's the 3-time world champion, a true legend of the sport. How could someone like you ever have a chance with someone as incredible as him? He's so talented, so successful, and you were just an ordinary person. The thought of opening your heart to him only to be turned away is enough to fill you with dread.

Part of you wishes you could just ignore these feelings, but they're impossible to deny. Every time you see him race, your heart skips a beat.

He's so captivating, so mesmerizing. You know deep down that you two could be amazing together, but the risk of rejection is too much to bear. You’d have to be content admiring him from afar, as much as that pains you. He's simply out of your league.

You had to rush back to the Red Bull garage to give Max at least some of your good luck while the rest was left for the Mercedes drivers.

You gave him a quick hug and told him, "Go easy on them will you?"

Max smirked and said, "Never in a million years."

You watched as Max got into his race car and drove off to the starting line. The atmosphere was electric, with the roar of the engines and the cheers of the crowd filling the air.

You then made your way over to the area where the celebrities were gathered, eager to catch a glimpse of the famous faces. As you mingled with the crowd, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement.

Whenever George, Lando or Hamilton were out on the track, you joined the throngs of fans in cheering them on, your voice adding to the cacophony of support that echoed through the circuit.

Jenson Button approached me, eager to know whom I was supporting at the British Grand Prix. "Excuse me, Y/N L/N. Can I have a moment of your time for a small interview?" he asked politely.

“Sure, I don’t mind!” You yelled over to the cars that had passed by where you were with speed for overtaking each other.

"I noticed you seem quite invested in the race today. Who are you rooting for?" He asked.

You turned to face the legendary Formula One driver, a smile spreading across your face. "Well, Jenson, I've always been a fan of Lewis Hamilton. The way he navigates those tight corners and pushes the limits of his car is truly inspiring. But I have to say, I'm also keeping a close eye on George Russell. He's been putting in some remarkable performances lately, and I wouldn't be surprised to see him on the podium today."

Jenson nodded thoughtfully, his eyes gleaming with interest. "Ah, yes, George did get podium in Austria. It's been great to see him come into his own this season. And of course, Lewis is always a force to be reckoned with on his home turf."

He paused, then leaned in conspiratorially. "Tell me, who do you think has the best chance of taking the chequered flag on Sunday?"

You turned around, revealing the word "Lewis Hamilton" written on your shirt in bold, striking letters. "I guess my shirt says it all," you laughed.

"Lewis has an incredible track record here at Silverstone, and I believe his experience and skill will give him the edge this weekend. But honestly, in racing, anything can happen, and that's what makes it so thrilling."

Jenson grinned, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. "Well, it looks like you're all set for a fantastic race day. Enjoy the rest of the Grand Prix, and may the best driver win!"

With that, he gave you a friendly nod and moved on to the next eager fan. You turned back to the track, heart pounding with anticipation, ready to cheer on your favorites as they battled it out on one of the most iconic circuits in the world.

Not long after Jenson moved on, you spotted Max Verstappen exiting his car after the first practice session. He looked focused but relaxed, a small smile playing on his lips as he made his way toward the garage.

Seizing the opportunity, you approached him. "Max, you were incredible out there! How are you feeling about the car's performance today?" you asked.

Max turned to you, his eyes bright with determination. "Thanks! The car felt really good, especially through the high-speed corners. We've made a few tweaks since the last race, and it seems to be paying off," he said with a nod.

"But there's still a lot of work to do, and we need to make sure everything's perfect for qualifying tomorrow." His gaze shifted back to the track, the competitive fire clearly evident.

"That's great to hear," you replied, excitement evident in your voice. "I'm sure you and the team will nail it. Best of luck for the qualifying session—I'll be rooting for you!"

Max chuckled, his grin widening. "I know you're actually rooting for Lewis, so don't try and convince me," he said, playfully pointing at your shirt before walking back to his team.

You chuckled, caught off guard by his playful comment, but you couldn't help but admire his confidence. As he disappeared into the garage, you turned your attention back to the track, eager for the next glimpse of racing action.

Realizing this was the perfect moment to engage with your followers, you quickly pulled out your phone and started a video.

"Hey everyone, I'm here at Silverstone, and it's absolutely electric! I just had an amazing chat with Max Verstappen, who seems really confident about the car's performance today."

With the camera still rolling, you began to walk around the paddock, capturing the vibrant atmosphere. "Look at this crowd! The energy here is just unbelievable. Stay tuned, because I'll be sharing more exclusive content, interviews, and updates throughout the Grand Prix. Make sure to follow and hit that notification bell so you don't miss a thing!"

You ended the video with a smile, feeling thrilled to share this unforgettable experience with your followers.

The paddock buzzed with activity, mechanics tirelessly working on cars while the air was filled with the sound of revving engines and excited chatter. Colorful team banners and flags fluttered in the breeze, adding to the vibrant spectacle.

The aroma of fuel and tire rubber mingled with the scent of freshly brewed coffee from nearby stalls, creating an intoxicating blend that awakens all your senses.

You decided to wander around the paddock until the second practice session started, eager to soak in every bit of the atmosphere. As you strolled past the various team garages, you couldn't help but marvel at the precision and dedication of the crew members.

Each mechanic moved with purpose, their focus unwavering as they fine-tuned the cars for optimal performance. The occasional cheer erupted from fans who managed to catch a glimpse of their favorite drivers, adding to the palpable excitement in the air.

Pausing at a merchandise stall, you took a moment to browse through the array of team hats, shirts, and memorabilia. The vendor’s enthusiastic pitch and the sight of fans proudly donning their favorite team's colors made you smile.

With a new Mercedes cap in hand, you continued your exploration, eventually finding a spot near the track with a clear view of the action.

Settling in, you glanced at your watch, counting down the minutes until the second practice session began, anticipation building with every passing second. . . . .

The second practice session had come to an exhilarating end, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as the leaderboard displayed Lando Norris’s name at the top. Seeing a Brit in first place put a broad smile on your face, a sentiment echoed by the cheers of the crowd around you.

The young driver's impressive performance had not only captured the hearts of the local fans but also ignited a sense of optimism for the upcoming race.

As the teams began to pack up their equipment and the drivers headed back to their motorhomes, you reflected on the day's events. The energy, the passion, and the sheer love for the sport were palpable, making you even more excited for what lay ahead.

You knew Max Verstappen wasn’t thrilled with his results today; the frustration was evident in his body language as he walked past the garage. Deciding it was best to give him some space, you chose to head back to your apartment on your own.

The cool evening breeze accompanied you as you made your way through the bustling streets, the excitement of the new day still lingering in the air.

Back at the apartment, you kicked off your shoes and sank into the couch, the day’s events replaying in your mind. The roar of the engines, the fervor of the crowd, and the sheer thrill of the race had left an indelible mark on you.

Your mind drifted back to the moment you saw Max Verstappen walk past the garage. His usually composed demeanor was replaced with visible frustration; sweat clung to his brow and his hair was tousled, a stark contrast to his usual neat appearance.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy for him. Racing was as much a mental game as it was a physical one, and today had clearly taken its toll on him.

As you sank deeper into the couch, you recalled the intensity in Max's eyes, the way he seemed to carry the weight of the team's expectations on his shoulders. It wasn't just about winning; it was about pride, about proving himself in the face of fierce competition.

His messy hair and worn-out look were a testament to the effort he poured into every lap.

You found yourself silently rooting for him, hoping that tomorrow would bring him better results and the sense of accomplishment he so clearly desired.

Just as you were deep in thought about Max, your phone buzzed, pulling you back to the present. Glancing at the screen, you saw his name flash across it.

You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say, but quickly answered.

"Hey," you said softly, trying to gauge his mood.

"Hey," he replied, his voice tinged with exhaustion. "I just... I needed to talk to someone. It's been a rough day."

You could hear the weariness in his voice, the frustration still lingering. "Of course, Max," you responded, your tone gentle and supportive. "Today was tough, but you're an incredible driver. You've got what it takes to bounce back."

There was a brief pause before he spoke again, "Thanks. I just needed to hear that. Tomorrow’s a new day, right?"

You smiled, "Absolutely. Get some rest, and let's see you take on the track with that unstoppable spirit of yours."

"Thanks, I'll come pick you up in the morning at the same time as today, is that alright?" Max asked, his voice sounding a bit lighter now.

"That sounds perfect," you replied, relieved to hear a hint of optimism returning to his tone. "Get some rest, Max. Tomorrow's another chance to shine."

After ending the call, you set your phone down and took a deep breath, feeling a mix of concern and hope for Max.

You decided to make yourself a cup of tea, hoping the warmth would help settle your thoughts. As you sipped the soothing drink, you couldn't help but replay the conversation in your mind.

As you sipped the soothing drink, you couldn't help but replay the conversation in your mind. The warmth in Max's voice was something rare, a side of him that few got to witness.

It stirred something deep within you, a flutter of butterflies in your stomach at the thought. Despite his usual stoic demeanor, tonight he had reached out to you, revealing a vulnerability that made you feel closer to him than ever before.

You let the warmth of the tea seep into you, calming your nerves while your thoughts raced. The connection you felt with Max tonight was undeniable, and it left you wondering about the deeper layers of his character.

Tomorrow, when he picked you up, you hoped to see that same spark of warmth in his eyes, a sign that he was ready to face the challenges ahead with renewed vigor.

Until then, you allowed yourself to bask in the glow of this newfound closeness, feeling a sense of hope and anticipation for the days to come. . . .

The next day arrived faster than you had anticipated, and before you knew it, the alarm was blaring in your ear. Groggy and disoriented, you realized with a start that you had overslept.

Panic set in as you hurriedly got ready, grabbing another Lewis Hamilton shirt and a Mercedes hat for some much-needed shade. You barely had time to brush your hair before Max would be at your doorstep.

You quickly brushed your teeth, splashed some water on your face, and dashed out the door, your heart pounding not just from the hurry but from the anticipation of seeing him again.

Rushing down the stairs, you hoped that your tardiness wouldn't dampen Max’s newly found optimism. As you stepped outside, you saw his car approaching, and a wave of relief washed over you.

The moment you climbed into the car, Max greeted you with a smile that was both reassuring and genuine. "Ready for today?" he asked, and you couldn’t help but feel that, despite the rocky start, everything was going to be just fine.

"Absolutely," you replied with a grin, trying to mask the flutter of nerves still lingering from your rushed morning. "Let's make it a great day."

Max's smile widened, and you felt a surge of confidence as the car pulled away from the curb, setting the course for whatever lay ahead.

The both of you arrived at the paddock at the usual time, the familiar hum of activity already filling the air. Mechanics were bustling about, engineers deep in conversation, and the distinctive scent of fuel and rubber permeated the space.

You used your paddock pass to enter the gate, feeling a sense of belonging as you navigated through the organized chaos. Max walked beside you, his presence steady and comforting.

As you approached the garage, you couldn’t help but notice the way the team members greeted Max with a newfound respect. It was as if the previous night's vulnerability had transformed him in their eyes as well.

He exchanged quick words with the crew, his tone confident and determined. You caught his eye, and he flashed you a quick, reassuring smile.

Since there was still time before the third practice race, you and Max decided to walk around the paddock. The bustling atmosphere of the Formula One paddock was electric, with teams of engineers and mechanics scurrying about, fine-tuning their cars for the upcoming sessions.

As you and Max strolled through the maze of garages, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The sights and sounds of the sport you both loved so dearly were all around you, and you knew that the real action was just moments away.

The two of you exchanged excited glances, each of you eager to see what the day had in store.

Then in the distance, you saw Lewis Hamilton getting interviewed by Jenson Button and other journalists. Hamilton's outfit exuded a sense of style and sophistication that perfectly complemented his status as a Formula One superstar.

Dressed in a tailored charcoal grey suit, Hamilton looked sharp and modern. The slim-fit jacket accentuated his athletic build, while the crisp white shirt and slim-cut trousers gave him a polished, contemporary look. Finishing off the ensemble were a pair of sleek black leather dress shoes, lending an air of elegance to his overall appearance.

Hamilton's fashion choices demonstrated his keen eye for detail and his ability to effortlessly blend high performance sportswear with high-end formal attire, solidifying his reputation as one of the most stylish personalities in the world of motorsports.

Jenson and Lewis paused their conversation as their eyes fell upon you and Max. Their faces lit up with genuine smiles, and Jenson waved enthusiastically, beckoning you over. The camera crew shifted slightly to accommodate the new dynamic, capturing the camaraderie between the drivers.

"Hey, you two!" Jenson called out. "Come join us for a bit!" The invitation was casual yet filled with warmth, a testament to the close-knit community within the paddock.

"Are you coming?" you whispered to Max and he shook his head, understanding completely.

It would be too early in the morning for him to be hammered with questions with the 7th World Champion.

You made your way over, exchanging nods and greetings with the crew along the way.

As you joined the small circle, Lewis extended his arms for a friendly hug. The warmth of his embrace was a welcome respite from the chill of the evening air, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging in that moment.

His firm yet gentle grip conveyed a genuine affection that put you at ease, reminding you of the strong bond you shared.

The hug lasted just long enough to feel comforting, without becoming overbearing. As you pulled away, you caught a glimpse of the genuine smile that spread across Lewis' face, his eyes twinkling with genuine delight at your arrival.

"Good to see you again Y/N," he said, his voice carrying the same charm as his attire.

"Same to you Lewis," you replied with a grin on your face after meeting your idol.

You two have met before and every time Max would be with you but he would let you speak for the both of you.

"You know, we've seen some viral rumors going around about the two of you," Jenson stated, his tone playful yet curious. "Your faces look very similar," he added, prompting nods of agreement from the surrounding interviewers.

You chuckled, glancing over at Lewis, who seemed equally amused. "Yeah, I've heard that one before," Lewis said with a grin. "People always think we're related or something."

"I would be lucky to have you as my dad," you replied, your tone light-hearted but sincere. The surrounding crew chuckled, and Lewis laughed warmly, patting you on the back.

"Well, if I had a kid as cool as you, I'd be the lucky one," he responded, his eyes sparkling with genuine affection.

"You know, I was in high school when you won your first world championship," you said, reminiscing about the early days of his career. Lewis raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised.

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Oh, come on now, Y/N. That makes me feel ancient," he replied, still grinning.

Jenson joined in, adding, "Well, there's no denying the resemblance. Maybe you two should do a DNA test just for fun." The suggestion elicited more laughter, and you shrugged, playing along.

"Who knows, maybe we’ll find out we’re long-lost family," you joked, feeling the camaraderie and light-heartedness of the moment.

Jenson leaned in, clearly enjoying the banter. "So, Y/N, any plans to follow in our footsteps and join the racing world?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shrugged with a smile, "Who knows? Maybe one day. For now, I'm just enjoying the ride and learning from the best."

Lewis smiled warmly before patting your shoulder. "That's the spirit, Y/N. Keep learning and who knows where you'll end up," he encouraged.

The crew continued to chat and laugh, the atmosphere buzzing with energy and camaraderie.

Jenson looked back at Max, who was still waiting patiently. "Let's not keep Max Verstappen waiting any longer and let you go," he said with a grin. "But before you leave, who are you rooting for to win on Sunday?"

You grinned and turned to the camera, proudly showing off your shirt which had Lewis Hamilton's name and number emblazoned on it.

"Of course, for my favorite driver, Lewis Hamilton," you declared with enthusiasm. The crew erupted in cheers and applause, clearly appreciating your loyalty.

Lewis laughed heartily, shaking his head. "Well, it's good to know I've got such a dedicated fan in you, Y/N," he said, his eyes twinkling with gratitude. "Just make sure you keep cheering loudly; I might need that extra bit of support on Sunday."

You nodded eagerly, feeling the warmth of the moment as Jenson wrapped up the interview.

When he unexpectedly reached out and signed your Mercedes cap and shirt, you were utterly starstruck and overcome with a profound sense of awe.

The surreal experience of having the coveted autograph of your revered idol permanently emblazoned upon your personal item is a feeling that will undoubtedly be etched into your memory, to be cherished and fondly recalled for years to come.

This tangible connection to your admired public figure has elevated the cap and the shirt from a mere article of clothing into a prized possession, imbued with deep personal significance that will serve as a lasting reminder of this incredible, once-in-a-lifetime moment.

"Thank you guys for making me meet my dad," you joked as you handed your microphone to a staff member. The crew burst into laughter, and even Lewis couldn't help but chuckle at your playful remark.

"Good luck, Dad!" you said as you walked away from the group, grinning from ear to ear. The crew's laughter continued to echo behind you, and Lewis gave a final wave, still smiling at your endearing humor.

"Thanks, kid," Lewis said back, still smiling warmly. You felt a rush of pride as you walked away, knowing that this incredible moment would stay with you forever. The excitement of the day left you feeling like you were walking on air, already anticipating the thrilling race ahead.

Max then joined you halfway as you two walked together behind the group. "That was quite the interaction," he remarked, glancing at the freshly signed cap in your hands. "I think you just made everyone in the crew a little jealous."

You chuckled, still riding the high of the unforgettable experience. "It feels like a dream. I mean, meeting Lewis Hamilton and getting his autograph? It's surreal," you replied, your voice bubbling with excitement.

Max raised an eyebrow playfully, “Would you be this excited if I gave you a signed Red Bull hat?”

You laughed, glancing at him, “Of course, Max! But you know, nothing beats meeting your hero.”

Max smirked, shaking his head with a mock sigh, “Guess I’ll have to step up my game then.”

"Well, Max, you'll have to start by winning a few more championships," you teased, nudging him lightly. He laughed, playfully rolling his eyes.

"But seriously, Max, you're my second hero too," you admitted with a grin, making him laugh and shake his head.

As you both entered the Red Bull garage, the familiar hum of activity and the scent of burning rubber welcomed you, amplifying your anticipation for the race ahead.

"These are the only times I've actually seen Max laugh this week," Jenson commented, overhearing the lighthearted exchange.

Lewis smiled warmly at the remark, clearly pleased to see such camaraderie. "Well, it looks like she's got the magic touch on Max," Lewis said, giving you a nod of approval.

Jenson chuckled, nodding in agreement. "It's true, she's got a way of bringing out the best in all of us," he remarked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Maybe we should keep her around for good luck," he added, glancing at Lewis with a grin. . . .

The results from the third practice session of the British Grand Prix left you utterly astonished. The top three positions were dominated by British drivers: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, and George Russell.

The roar of the crowd was deafening as the names flashed up on the leaderboard, and you could feel the electricity in the air. The excitement was palpable, and the entire paddock buzzed with a mix of admiration and determination.

As you and Alexandra absorbed the results, you couldn't help but feel a surge of national pride mixed with the competitive spirit that coursed through the paddock.

"Three Brits at the top—who would've thought?" Alex mused, glancing at the screen.

"It's going to be one heck of a race," you replied, a grin spreading across your face.

The anticipation for Sunday's race grew stronger, knowing that this unexpected turn of events had set the stage for an epic showdown on the Silverstone circuit.

As the final practice session concluded, you made your way back to the garage, where Max was already debriefing with his engineers. His expression was a mix of frustration and determination, clearly unsatisfied with his fourth-place finish.

You could sense the tension in the air as he ran a hand through his hair, listening intently to the feedback. "Fourth place again," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched.

You approached him carefully, offering a supportive smile. "Hey, Max, don't be too hard on yourself. The race is still ahead, and anything can happen," you reassured him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He looked up, his eyes softening slightly. "I know, but it's just frustrating," he admitted, exhaling deeply.

"We'll figure it out," you replied confidently. "You've got the skills and the team behind you—we'll get there."

Max’s shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, the tension in his posture easing. Without warning, he pulled you into a big, tight hug, a gesture of gratitude and camaraderie.

"Thanks," he whispered into your shoulder, his voice barely audible over the buzz of the garage. "I needed that."

You patted his back reassuringly, feeling the weight of his determination and the pressure he was under.

As he released you, he took a step back, his expression a bit lighter. "Alright, let me get to work before I get yelled at by the team," he joked, a renewed spark in his eyes.

You nodded, feeling a surge of optimism before letting him go. As Max turned back to his engineers, you couldn't help but admire his resilience and dedication. The garage was a hive of activity, the mechanics and engineers working tirelessly to fine-tune every detail for the upcoming race.

You knew that this was just the beginning, and that every effort counted towards the ultimate goal. The camaraderie and mutual support within the team were palpable, and it gave you confidence that they could overcome any obstacles.

Walking over to the pit wall, you glanced at the data screens, absorbing the information from the final practice session. The numbers told a story of fierce competition and the relentless pursuit of perfection.

As you watched the team dive into their preparations, you felt a sense of unity and purpose that transcended individual ambitions. The Silverstone circuit awaited, and with the collective strength and determination of the team, you believed they were ready to face whatever challenges came their way.

With the support of his team and the undeniable talent that Max possessed, you knew that the upcoming race would be anything but predictable.

Knowing that Max would likely pull an all-nighter to ensure everything was perfect, you decided to embrace a rare moment of relaxation and joined the girls for a much-needed night out.

The energy of the city was a stark contrast to the focused intensity of the garage, and you relished the chance to unwind and recharge. Laughter and conversation flowed freely as you and the girls caught up over dinner, sharing stories and enjoying each other's company.

"Lily, you should have seen Max today," you said, taking a sip of your drink. "He was so stressed but still managed to joke around. It's like he's made of steel."

Alexandra laughed, "You and Max, honestly, it's like watching a married couple. The way you two support each other is incredible."

Rebecca chimed in, "You both have that unspoken understanding. It's rare to see such a strong bond. Do you ever think about what it would be like if you two were actually together?"

You smiled, shaking your head. "Max and I are just really good friends. We've been through so much together, and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

As the evening progressed, Lily leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "So, how are things going with Max? Seriously, the way you two finish each other's sentences is uncanny," she teased, nudging Alexandra.

Alexandra and Rebecca chuckled in agreement. "Yeah, it's like you guys have this secret language," Rebecca added, taking a sip of her wine.

You laughed, feeling a warm blush creep up your cheeks. "I think that just happens when you're good friends with someone," you protested lightly. "But honestly, I think it's just because we've been through so much together with the team. It's hard not to get close when you're in the thick of it all."

The girls exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening.

As the night progressed, you felt the stress and tension of the past weeks melt away. Dancing under the colorful lights of the club, you allowed yourself to be fully present in the moment, soaking in the joy and camaraderie of your friends.

Though your mind occasionally drifted back to the team and the upcoming race, you knew that moments like these were essential for maintaining balance and perspective.

The music in the club was a pulsating mix of deep bass and energetic beats, creating an infectious rhythm that made it impossible to stay still.

The DJ seamlessly blended popular hits with classic dance anthems, keeping the energy high and the dance floor packed. Every now and then, a familiar tune would spark cheers from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere of the night.

You tried to forget about tomorrow by dancing your heart out, losing yourself in the music and the laughter of your friends.

Each beat seemed to sync with your heartbeat, pushing away the lingering worries and stress about the upcoming race. The colored lights flashed around you, casting a vibrant glow on the faces of those you loved most.

Alexandra pulled you into a carefree spin, her laughter ringing out like a melody of its own, while Rebecca's enthusiastic dance moves encouraged everyone around her to join in the fun.

As the night wore on, you felt a sense of liberation, a temporary escape from the pressures that awaited you in the morning. The music, the lights, and the camaraderie wrapped around you like a comforting embrace.

You danced until your feet ached and your lungs burned from breathless laughter. In those precious hours, you allowed yourself to be free, knowing that the memories you were creating would fortify you for the challenges ahead. . . .

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╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

As you left the bathroom, a guy approached you with a confident smirk. "Hey there, having a good time?" he asked, stepping into your path.

You quickly pulled out your phone, pretending to check messages, but he wasn't deterred. "Come on, don't be like that," he persisted, reaching out and snatching the phone from your hands.

"Hey, give that back!" you exclaimed, your voice rising above the music. His grin widened as he held your phone just out of reach.

"Relax, I just wanted to talk," he said, but you could see the mischief in his eyes.

"Look, I'm just here to enjoy the night with my friends," you said firmly, trying to keep your cool. "Can you please give me my phone back?"

He chuckled and shook his head, still holding the phone out of reach. "Only if you promise to dance with me for one song," he countered, his eyes sparkling with playful determination.

"Look, I'm not interested," you replied firmly, trying to keep your cool despite the growing frustration. "Just give me my phone back."

"Why so serious?" he teased, leaning in closer. "I promise, I'm not a bad guy."

Suddenly, a fist landed against the man's face, and he staggered backward, releasing your phone. You looked over to see Max standing in front of you, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing his voice. Max was wearing a black leather jacket over a plain white t-shirt, his jeans slightly worn and his boots scuffed from countless adventures.

"Yeah, I'm fine now," you replied, clutching your phone tightly. The guy groaned, rubbing his jaw, but quickly decided to make himself scarce. "Thanks, Max. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up."

Max shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. "Don't mention it. No one messes with you." He glanced around, the lively atmosphere of the party resuming as if nothing had happened.

"Come on, let's get back to the others. I think Alexandra is about to challenge everyone to a dance-off."

Max had always been the one to look out for you, ever since you first met. His protective nature wasn't just about physical safety; it was about ensuring you felt secure and valued in every situation. Moments like these reminded you why you valued his friendship so deeply.

You smiled, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you, before following Max over to where the girls were gathered. Alexandra was already hyping everyone up, her infectious energy drawing a crowd. The music thumped louder as she announced the start of the dance-off, and you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement.

"Hey, you're just in time!" Alexandra called out, her voice filled with excitement. "We're about to start the dance-off, and I need my best dancer by my side." You laughed, feeling the tension from earlier melt away.

Max stayed close by your side, his reassuring presence a constant comfort. As the dance-off began, you found yourself laughing and cheering on your friends, the earlier tension quickly fading away.

You start to move your body to the rhythm of the music, swaying your hips and tapping your feet. The beat pulses through you, and you let it guide your movements, flowing from one step to the next with a natural fluidity.

As the tempo picks up, you pick up the pace, your limbs moving with increasing energy and precision. You twirl and spin, your arms outstretched, feeling the music coursing through every inch of your being.

The world around you fades away as you become lost in the dance, your only focus being the rhythm that compels you to keep moving.

The crowd's cheers grew louder, a wave of encouragement that fueled your every move. You could hear your friends shouting your name, their voices blending with the music and creating an intoxicating mix of sound and energy.

Every clap, every cheer, every shout of encouragement pushed you to dance harder, to lose yourself even more in the rhythm. It was a feeling of pure exhilaration, a moment where nothing else mattered but the beat and the joy of movement.

As you executed a particularly challenging spin, the crowd erupted in applause. You caught a glimpse of Max, his eyes filled with pride and approval, and it spurred you on even further.

Your feet barely touched the ground as you performed intricate steps, each one met with more cheers and applause.

Alexandra joined in, her movements mirroring yours in a dazzling display of synchronicity. Together, you owned the dance floor, the world outside the party forgotten as you reveled in the collective energy and sheer delight of the dance-off.

"Alright, I think it's time for us to go," Max muttered into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded, your body still buzzing from the adrenaline of the dance-off.

You said goodbye to the girls, their faces glowing with the same exhilaration that still coursed through your veins. They gave you knowing smiles, the kind that spoke of shared secrets and unforgettable moments.

"You were amazing out there," one of them said, pulling you into a quick hug. The others nodded in agreement, their eyes twinkling with pride and admiration.

It was a night that would be etched into your memories, a night where you felt truly alive and connected.

As you made your way through the crowd, you could feel the lingering energy of the night, the music and laughter still echoing in your ears.

"Did you have fun?" Max asked, his hand gently squeezing yours.

"Absolutely," you replied with a smile. "I needed this. Thanks for being here with me."

"Always," he said, his eyes twinkling with warmth. "Now let's get you home."

As you and Max made your way out of the venue, the cool night air hit your skin, a refreshing contrast to the heat and energy inside.

He led you to where his car was parked, a few blocks away from the lively venue. The city's lights shimmered around you, creating a magical ambiance that seemed to extend the evening's enchantment.

Max opened the passenger door for you, his gentlemanly gesture making you smile. As you settled into the seat, you took a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs and calming your racing heart.

Max slid into the driver's seat and started the engine, the soft hum of the car a soothing backdrop to your thoughts. The streets were quieter now, the hustle and bustle of the night giving way to a peaceful stillness.

As he drove, you glanced over at him, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights.

A sense of gratitude washed over you, not just for the incredible night but for the unwavering presence of someone who understood you so deeply.

The road stretched ahead, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a sense of contentment and peace.

The cityscape gradually transitioned from the vibrant glow of downtown to the quieter, tree-lined neighborhoods.

Streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and the occasional passerby strolled under the canopy of autumn leaves. The serene streets, dotted with quaint shops and cafes, seemed to whisper stories of their own, adding to the magic of the night.

You didn’t hear when the car stopped or when Max got out of his seat to come to your side, but you felt a touch on your shoulder, gentle and reassuring.

"Hey," he said softly, "we're here." His voice pulled you out of your reverie, and you looked up to see him holding your door open, a kind smile on his face.

"Sorry, I must have zoned out," you said, stepping out of the car and into the crisp night air. Max chuckled, "No worries. It looks like tonight wore you out in the best way possible."

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his presence beside you. "It did. Thanks again, Max, for everything." He squeezed your hand gently, "Anytime. Let's get you inside and cozy."

As you walked towards your front door, the porch light casting a welcoming glow, you realized just how much nights like these meant to you.

You unlocked the door and Max and you walked inside. The house was quiet and peaceful, a welcome change from the hustle and bustle of the day. As you closed the door behind the both of you, you felt the tension in your shoulders start to melt away.

Max immediately made himself at home, bounding over to his favorite spot on the couch and curling up with a contented sigh. You couldn't help but smile as you watched him settle in, grateful for the simple joy of being back in your comfortable space.

You followed him and sat right beside him, cuddling him. Max laughs, "How much did you have to drink?"

"Not much, just tired now," you mumbled.

Your body felt heavy, and you couldn't resist the urge to snuggle up against Max. The warmth of his presence was comforting, and you felt a sense of safety and contentment in his company.

"Hey, you know, my friends have been asking me a lot lately about...well, about us. They keep wondering if we're, you know, actually just friends or if there's something more going on," you said, feeling a slight blush creep onto your cheeks.

He looked at you, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Your friends, huh? What do you tell them?" he asked, his voice soft and curious.

You averted your gaze, suddenly finding the ground very interesting. "I...I tell them that we're just friends. But, I don't know, sometimes I wonder if they're right. I mean, are we really just friends?" you admitted, your heart racing.

He was silent for a moment, and you could feel the tension building between you two. "Well, I...I guess that's up to us to decide, isn't it?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn't help but glance at him, your gaze involuntarily drawn to his captivating presence. His striking appearance and commanding aura made it nearly impossible to look away, even for a moment.

Your eyes met briefly, locking in a charged, fleeting connection that sent a flutter of shyness rippling through your chest.

Despite your best efforts to avert your eyes, you found yourself repeatedly drawn back to him, mesmerized by his alluring and magnetic persona.

"I notice you looking," he replied, his voice soft and teasing.

"I... I didn't mean to stare, I just..." Your words trailed off as you struggled to find the right thing to say.

He smiled reassuringly. "It's alright, I don't mind." There was a warmth in his tone that put you at ease. "I'm glad you can look at me."

You felt your cheeks grow warm, and you ducked your head, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. "I'm sorry, I... I'm not usually this shy," you stammered.

"No need to apologize," he said gently. "I find your shyness quite endearing. Your drunk side is definitely cuter,”

You felt your cheeks flush even deeper at his compliment, a mix of embarrassment and delight swirling within you. You managed a small, shy smile, peeking up at him through your lashes.

"Thanks, Max," you murmured, your heart fluttering at his words.

As you stood there, the silence between you two thickening, you heard Max mutter something under his breath. Though you couldn't catch everything, you distinctly heard the words, "you'll be the death of me."

You chose not to comment on it, unsure if you had heard correctly or if your mind was playing tricks on you. The air seemed to crackle with unspoken emotions, making your pulse quicken.

A moment later, Max took a deep breath and stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "You have no idea what you do to me," he said, his voice low and filled with intensity. The proximity of his presence made your heart race even faster, each beat echoing in your ears.

You could feel the weight of his words settling over you, making it clear that you were no longer just friends standing on the edge of something much deeper.

Deciding to be brave for once, you took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on. "Max, I... I think there's something more here than just friendship. Maybe we should talk about it, figure out what this really is," you said, your voice trembling slightly but steady enough to convey your sincerity.

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his, and the simple gesture sent a wave of warmth through you. "I've been wanting to talk about it too," he admitted, his eyes never leaving yours. "But you're too drunk to talk about it."

Max then stood up and said, "And it's past both our bedtime," he gave his hand out, "Do you need help?" You looked at his extended hand, hesitating for just a moment before placing your hand in his.

The warmth of his touch was comforting, and you nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "Yeah, I think I do," you replied softly, a small smile playing on your lips.

As he helped you to your feet, you couldn't help but feel a mixture of anticipation and nervousness about what the future held for the two of you. "We'll talk about this tomorrow, when we're both clear-headed," he promised, his eyes filled with a sincerity that made your heart flutter.

You nodded in agreement, feeling grateful for the moment of clarity.

"Goodnight, Max," you whispered.

"Goodnight," he replied, his voice gentle as he squeezed your hand one last time before letting go.

As you made your way to your room, your mind buzzed with a whirlwind of emotions. You felt a mix of excitement and anxiety, the weight of unspoken feelings finally acknowledged.

Lying in bed, you couldn't help but replay the night's events, wondering what tomorrow would bring for you and Max. . . . .

╔═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╗

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

The next morning, you woke up with a slight throbbing in your head, the kind that comes from having one too many drinks the night before. Groaning, you rubbed your temples and tried to piece together the fragments of last night.

Bits and pieces floated back to you—laughter, the warmth of Max's hand, and something about a conversation that felt important. But the details were fuzzy, like trying to remember a dream that was slipping away with each passing second.

As you stumbled into the kitchen for a glass of water, you found yourself wondering about the look in Max's eyes and the words he had said. The clarity from last night was now a blur, leaving you with a nagging sense that something significant had occurred.

You couldn't shake the feeling that today might bring some answers, and perhaps a chance to finally address the feelings that had been simmering just below the surface.

You decided to dress casually, slipping into another Mercedes shirt, this one adorned with a signature from Lewis Hamilton that you'd gotten a long time ago. The familiar fabric brought back memories of excitement and admiration, moments when you felt invincible.

Topping off your outfit with the same Mercedes hat from yesterday, you hoped the attire would give you a boost of confidence for whatever the day had in store.

As you made your way to the living room, you couldn't help but think about Max and the conversation from the night before. The anticipation of seeing him again made your heart race, and you hoped that today would bring some much-needed clarity.

With each step, you felt a mixture of hope and apprehension, but one thing was certain—you were ready to face whatever came next, no matter how daunting it seemed.

A gentle knock on the door pulled you from your thoughts, and your heart skipped a beat. Taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find Max standing there, his familiar smile instantly putting you at ease.

"Hey," he greeted softly, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read your mind. The sight of him brought a rush of both relief and nervous energy, and you couldn't help but smile back.

"Hey, Max," you replied, stepping aside to let him in. As he entered, you both knew that the conversation from last night needed to be revisited, the unspoken feelings demanding attention.

Max glanced around your living room before turning to face you, his expression serious yet gentle. "You're a bit early today," you began, and he nodded.

"I just wanted to make sure you were good after yesterday," Max stated, concern evident in his voice. He took a cautious step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "Do you remember anything that happened?"

You shook your head, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "No, it's all a bit of a blur. I remember us talking, but the details are fuzzy. What did I say, Max?"

The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you could see Max weighing his words carefully.

He took a deep breath before replying, "We talked about a lot of things—your feelings, my feelings, and everything we've been holding back. I think it's important we address it now, while it's still fresh."

You glanced at the clock on the wall and your eyes widened in realization. "Max, if we start this conversation now, we're going to be late for work," you said, biting your lip. The weight of the moment was palpable, but the practical concern loomed large.

Max followed your gaze to the clock and sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I know," he admitted reluctantly, "but we can't keep pushing this off. How about we talk after the race? We can't let this hang over us any longer."

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief that there was a plan in place. "Okay, after the race it is," you agreed, grabbing your keys and heading for the door.

Max smiled appreciatively, and together, you walked out, knowing that the conversation was merely postponed, not avoided.

You walked to his car, the tension between you both a silent passenger. The drive felt quick, a blur of city streets and morning light, the hum of the engine the only sound breaking the silence.

Max's hand occasionally brushed yours on the gear shift, each touch a reminder of the conversation that awaited. As the racetrack came into view, a sense of urgency replaced the earlier calm, the reality of the day ahead crashing down.

Before you could fully prepare yourself, you were swarmed by the paparazzi, their cameras flashing and questions flying. Max tightened his grip on your hand, guiding you through the chaos with a protective determination.

"Just stay close," he whispered, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. You nodded, squeezing his hand back, feeling a mix of gratitude and apprehension.

You two safely made it to the Red Bull garage, Max's annoyance palpable as he helped you regain your balance after tripping over a persistent paparazzo. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice tinged with frustration but softened by concern.

You nodded, brushing off the embarrassment as best you could, and took a deep breath to steady yourself. The bustling activity of the garage—mechanics fine-tuning cars, engineers analyzing data—provided a temporary distraction from the looming conversation.

Max's jaw tightened as he tried to shake off the earlier chaos. "Let's focus on the race for now," you said, your eyes scanning the garage for any more paparazzi. "You'll need all your concentration if you're going to pull this off."

You gave him a reassuring smile, determined to support him through the day.

The air buzzed with anticipation and energy, but despite the noise and activity, the unresolved emotions between you two lingered, a quiet storm waiting to be addressed.

"Max, you've got this," you said, giving him a quick, encouraging nod before stepping away. He returned the nod, his eyes briefly softening before hardening with focus.

You left Max to focus on his preparations, giving him a supportive pat on the back before making your way through the crowded garage.

Miraculously, you managed to avoid the paparazzi and found Alexandra near the hospitality area, her eyes lighting up as she saw you.

"Hey, Alex," you greeted her. Your voice was a mix of relief and anticipation.

"There you are," she said with a relieved smile. "I was starting to worry they'd swallow you whole!"

"I thought so too, I don't know why they acted like that," you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

"I think it was because of yesterday," Alexandra commented, her expression growing serious. "The rumors about you and Max really stirred things up."

"What rumors?" you asked, your heart skipping a beat.

Alexandra sighed, glancing around to ensure no one was eavesdropping. "There's talk that you and Max are more than just friends, and it's got everyone buzzing," she explained, her eyes filled with both concern and curiosity.

"They got a glimpse of you and Max leaving the club holding hands, so they just assumed you two were dating," she continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your cheeks flushed as the memories of the previous night flooded back, the moment innocent but easily misconstrued. "Great, just what we needed before the big race," you muttered, running a hand through your hair.

"Is it true?" Alexandra asked, her eyes searching yours for any hint of the truth. You hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on you. "No, well... I don't think so,"

You stammered, feeling the heat rise to your face. "We're going to talk about it after the race. There's just too much going on right now to sort it out."

Alexandra nodded slowly, her expression a mix of understanding and concern. "I can see how things could get complicated," she murmured, glancing back towards the garage where Max was still preparing.

"Just make sure you both have a clear head for the race. The last thing you need is this drama distracting you."

You sighed, grateful for her support. "Thanks, Alex. We'll figure it out one way or another," you said, giving her a small, reassuring smile. "Right now, we need to focus on the task at hand."

Alexandra nodded, her face softening with understanding. "I get it. Just make sure you two sort it out. It’s important for both of your sakes, especially with so much at stake today."

She paused, then added, "And remember, I'm here if you need to talk or just need some support. We've got your back, no matter what."

"Thanks, Alex. That means a lot," you replied, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. You stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, needing the reassurance of a friend's support in this whirlwind of confusion.

She hugged you back tightly, whispering, "You've got this," before stepping back and giving you a determined look.

As you both pulled away, you glanced around the bustling garage, the sound of engines roaring and mechanics shouting orders filling the air. "Let's get through today first," you said, trying to infuse your voice with the confidence you didn't quite feel. "After the race, I'll sit down with Max and we'll clear everything up."

Alexandra gave you a firm nod, her eyes reflecting her belief in you. "Good. And remember, whatever happens, we're a team. We'll get through this together," she said, before turning back to her duties, leaving you with a renewed sense of determination.

You walked back into the Red Bull garage, weaving through the busy crew members and the organized chaos. Spotting Max near his car, you took a deep breath and approached him.

"Hey Max," you called out, trying to mask any lingering anxiety. He looked up from his preparations, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of curiosity and concern.

"Hey," he replied, looking away from his car to glance at you. "Everything is okay?"

You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just wanted to wish you good luck. Let's focus on the race and leave everything else for later."

Max's expression softened, and he gave you a reassuring nod. "Sounds like a plan. Thanks," he said, giving you a firm pat on the shoulder.

"Oh, I forgot to do something," Max said, grabbing something from the nearby table. You raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he was referring to.

Before you could ask, he reached over and took off your Mercedes hat, replacing it with a Red Bull one. "There," he said with a grin, "now you're properly dressed for the occasion."

You laughed, feeling some of the tension ease. "Thanks, Max. I guess I did need a little wardrobe adjustment," you replied, adjusting the new hat on your head. "Just remember, no matter what happens out there today, we're in this together."

Max nodded, his expression serious but supportive. "You're just saying that because you got 'adopted' by your idol," he teased, extending his hand for a firm handshake.

"Exactly! You'll have to call me Y/N Hamilton now," you smirked, joining in with the handshake.

Max chuckled, shaking his head. "Never in my life will I ever call you that Y/N, you know that already."

Just then, a crew member signaled to Max that it was time to get ready for the race. Max glanced at his watch and nodded, turning back to you with a determined look. "Alright, I have to go now. But remember, we'll talk after the race, okay?" he said, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

You nodded, feeling a mix of anticipation and support. "Good luck out there, Max. Give it your all," you urged, stepping back to let him head towards his car. Max flashed you a final grin before heading off, his focus shifting entirely to the task at hand.

As you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and camaraderie. The roar of engines filled the air, signaling the start of an intense competition.

You took a deep breath, knowing that whatever the outcome, the bond you shared with Max and the team would only grow stronger.

Throughout the day, you mingled with the fans, soaking up the atmosphere and excitement. As the race began, you cheered for Hamilton, hoping for a victory for your home country.

The event kicked off with a thrilling qualifying session, where Lewis Hamilton and George Russell of Mercedes secured the top two positions, narrowly edging out the young sensation Lando Norris of McLaren. Max Verstappen qualified fourth, setting the stage for an intense battle at the front of the grid.

As the lights went out, Hamilton made a perfect start, maintaining his lead into the first corner. Norris and Verstappen engaged in a fierce fight for second place, with the Dutchman eventually managing to make a bold move and take the position.

The race was filled with intense on-track action, as the drivers pushed their cars to the limit on the iconic Silverstone circuit. Oscar and Carlos fought their way through the field, making impressive overtakes and fighting for a podium finish.

Hamilton managed to hold onto his lead, with Verstappen and Norris in close pursuit. The battle for victory came down to the final laps, with Verstappen making several attempts to pass Hamilton, but the British driver held firm, crossing the finish line to the delight of the passionate home crowd.

Lando Norris secured a well-deserved third-place finish, with Oscar and Sainz rounding out the top five.

You could feel the tension in the air as the race unfolded, every corner and straight away leaving you on the edge of your seat. When Lewis Hamilton crossed the finish line, you erupted in celebration with the rest of the fans, the atmosphere electric with joy and pride.

The victory felt like a triumph for everyone present, a testament to the dedication and skill of the entire team.

You were close by when Lewis got out of his car at the number 1 place and he jumped out to meet his parents. The emotion on his face was palpable as he embraced them, the crowd's cheers echoing in the background.

It was a moment of pure triumph and familial pride, one that you knew would be remembered for years to come.

Lewis then ran over to you and gave you the biggest hug, his joy radiating through the embrace. "We did it!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with triumph and gratitude.

You could hardly believe it, standing there in the midst of the celebration, feeling the warmth of his victory shared with you.

The crowd's cheers grew louder, a symphony of adoration for their champion, and you felt an overwhelming sense of connection to this incredible moment. As the noise of the crowd swirled around you, Lewis pulled back slightly, his eyes sparkling with unspoken emotion.

"Thank you for always believing in me kid," he said, his words sincere and heartfelt. The world seemed to fade away as you shared that instant, knowing that this victory was not just a win on the track, but a culmination of years of hard work, perseverance, and unwavering support.

"It was all you," you said, smiling through the tears that had begun to form in your eyes. Lewis shook his head, still beaming.

"No, this victory belongs to all of us," he replied, his voice steady and filled with gratitude.

Lewis then left you to go hug his team, the very people who had worked tirelessly behind the scenes to make this victory possible.

The mechanics, engineers, and strategists all gathered around him, their faces lit up with pride and relief.

Each hug and handshake was a testament to the unity and effort that had propelled them to this moment. The bond between the team members was evident, a shared understanding of the countless hours and challenges they had overcome together.

As Lewis made his way through the throng, he paused to exchange words of gratitude and congratulations with each person. The joy in the paddock was infectious, spreading like wildfire among everyone present.

The cameras flashed, capturing the raw, unfiltered emotions that painted this victorious scene. It was a reminder that while one man may stand on the podium, the triumph is always a collective achievement, built on the foundation of teamwork and mutual respect.

As you were cheering for Lewis, you didn't realize when Max got out of his car and walked over to you until he was standing in front of you, his helmet still on his head.

Startled, you looked up to see the intense gaze behind his visor, a mixture of disappointment and adrenaline in his eyes.

After he didn't move and all you could hear was his harsh breathing, you quickly helped him with taking off the helmet. As it came off, his face was a portrait of raw emotion—disappointment mingled with exhaustion, yet there was an unmistakable glint of respect in his eyes.

"You were incredible out there," you said softly, trying to bridge the gap between rival and friend. He nodded, his expression softening slightly as he took a deep breath. The tension slowly melting away from his shoulders.

He nodded before moving closer to you, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "After this, be in my room." A shiver ran down your spine, the unexpected command sending a surge of adrenaline through your veins.

You couldn't help but feel the intensity of the moment, the lines between competition and something deeper blurring in the dimming light of the paddock.

You met his gaze, searching for any hint of jest, but all you found was a seriousness that made your heart race. "Max, what are you—" you began to ask, but he silenced you with a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head.

"Just be there," he insisted softly, his voice a mix of urgency and something else you couldn't quite place. With that, he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

You watched the podium ceremony unfold, the cheers of the crowd and the spray of champagne creating a festive atmosphere. Yet, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't shake Max's words from your mind.

His voice, that hint of something unspoken, echoed in your ears, overshadowing even the triumphant smiles of the winners. As the drivers celebrated, your thoughts kept drifting back to that moment, the weight of his command lingering heavily.

Back in the team garage, the clamor of post-race activities did little to diminish your inner turmoil. You replayed the scene over and over, analyzing every detail of his expression and tone.

What could he possibly want? Why the urgency?

As the minutes ticked by, you found yourself drawn inexorably towards his room, curiosity and anticipation intertwining in a complex dance. Your heart pounded in your chest as you approached the door, uncertainty mingling with a strange sense of inevitability.

As you walked, suddenly someone took your hand and pulled you into Max driver's room—it was Max. The door closed behind you with a soft click, and you found yourself standing inches from him, your breath catching in your throat.

His eyes were intense, a storm of emotions swirling within them that you couldn't quite decipher.

"I needed to talk to you alone," he said, his voice low and steady, a stark contrast to the chaos of your thoughts.

Before you could respond, he stepped closer, his presence enveloping you. "There's something I've wanted to say for a long time," he continued, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "But I didn't know how, or if it was the right time."

You could feel the weight of his words, each one laden with unspoken meaning. The intensity of the moment was almost overwhelming, and you knew that whatever he was about to reveal would change everything.

His eyes bore into yours, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. "What is this about, Max?" you finally managed to ask, your voice barely a whisper.

He took a step closer, the space between you shrinking to nothing. "There's something I've been hiding, something I need to tell you before it goes any further."

His hand remained on yours, grounding you as the weight of his words settled in. You could feel the gravity of the moment, the potential for everything to change hanging in the air between you.

Max’s grip tightened slightly, as if drawing strength from your presence. "I’ve been battling with this for so long," he began, his voice barely above a whisper, "and I can't keep it to myself any longer. I’ve been feeling something more than just camaraderie between us. Every race, every strategy session, every moment we've spent together... it’s become clear to me that it’s more than just professional respect or friendship."

Your heart raced, your mind spinning with the implications of his confession. "Max, are you saying...?" you trailed off, unsure if you dared to hope for what his words might mean.

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he took another step closer, his free hand gently cupping your cheek.

"Yes," he said softly. "I’m saying that I’ve fallen for you. And I couldn’t go another day without telling you, without knowing if you might feel the same."

Your breath hitched at his confession, emotions swirling within you. "Max, I... I don't know what to say," you stammered, your heart pounding in your chest.

His gaze remained unwavering, filled with vulnerability and hope. "Just tell me how you feel," he urged gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of relief and confusion. "I've been trying to convince myself it was just friendship," you admitted, your voice trembling. "But deep down, I've felt it too. I was just too scared to acknowledge it, afraid it would ruin everything."

Now that everything was out in the open, a sense of liberation washed over you. The weight of unspoken emotions lifted, replaced by a cautious but undeniable hope.

"But knowing you feel the same changes everything," you whispered, a tentative smile breaking through your tears.

Max's eyes lit up with a mixture of joy and relief, a broad smile spreading across his face. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let go.

"You have no idea how happy you've just made me," he murmured into your hair, his voice filled with an overwhelming sense of contentment.

He then pulled back to look at you, his eyes mostly glancing at your lips without any hesitation. The air between you crackled with a palpable intensity, a silent promise of something more.

His breath mingled with yours, creating a heady blend of anticipation and longing. "May I?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, seeking your consent with every fiber of his being.

You nodded, unable to find the words, your heart pounding in your chest. As his lips met yours, the world seemed to melt away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of shared emotions.

The kiss was tender yet filled with unspoken promises, a confirmation of the feelings you both had been harboring for so long. When you finally pulled apart, his forehead rested against yours, both of you catching your breath.

His eyes held a depth of emotion that took your breath away, shimmering with love, relief, and an unspoken promise of a future together. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his gaze soft yet intense, as if memorizing every detail of your face.

"Love you," you whispered without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

For a moment, you worried you had said too much too soon, but the way Max's eyes softened reassured you.

"I love you too," he replied, his voice steady and sincere, as if he had been waiting to say those words for a long time.

The weight of the moment settled between you, both comforting and exhilarating.

"What happens now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Max's hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a gesture that felt both grounding and electric.

"We take it one day at a time," he said, his smile widening. "No more hiding, no more pretending. Just us, figuring it out together."

The simplicity of his words brought a sense of calm over you, and you nodded, feeling more certain than ever that this was just the beginning of something beautiful.

"That means supporting me before Lewis," he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.

You chuckled, shaking your head with a mock-serious expression. "That's a bit of a stretch," you replied, your tone light and teasing. "I might need some convincing before I switch allegiances."

Max laughed, the sound rich and warm, filling the space between you. "Challenge accepted," he said, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "I'll just have to work extra hard to win you over, won't I?"

"Well, you've got your work cut out for you," you replied with a smirk. "But I'm open to seeing what you've got." His eyes sparkled with determination, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement.

"Don't worry, I love a good challenge," Max replied with a confident grin.

"By the end of this, you'll be my biggest supporter, just wait and see."

i.t.y/n

liked by maxverstappen1, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 1,702,847 others.

tagged; maxverstappen1

i.t.y/n: Hey everyone! I know I've kept you in the dark for a while, but I'm excited to finally share that Max and I are together. We've been enjoying our time together and wanted to keep it just for us for a bit. To make up for the secrecy, here are some adorable photos of Max that I know you'll love.

I have to admit, he's managed to convert me into a Red Bull fan. But don't worry, Mercedes will always have a special place in my heart. Thank you all for your understanding and support. 💙

view comments below

maxverstappen1: Schatje I love you 🫶

i.t.y/n: I LOVE YOU TOO MAXIE 🥰🥰

lewishamilton: Congratulations on your relationship! I hope you both the best 😊

i.t.y/n: Thanks dad! I'll always be supporting you in secret 👍

lewishamilton: @maxverstappen you better take care of my daughter

*liked by i.t.y/n*

maxverstappen1: Yes sir

mercedesamgf1: Don't worry Y/N, we know you will always belong to us 🩵

maxverstappen1: Actually Y/N is all mine and always will be mine so respectfully f**k off

i.t.y/n: Max what did we say about bad words????

maxverstappen1: sorry schatje, @mercedesamgf1 I mean with all the respect I can have, please frick off

*liked by i.t.y/n*

user2: NOT MAX FIGHTING WITH MERCEDES ACCOUNT OVER Y/N????

user3: Y/N is actually living the dream 🥹

i.t.y/n: @maxverstappen1 I was just looking at the pictures of you that I took and you're always smiling in them

maxverstappen1: That's because I love smiling at what's mine 🫶

i.t.y/n: That's so sweet! 🥰🫶

maxverstappen1: Wanna meet me after sim practice??

*liked by i.t.y/n*

1K notes · View notes

itz-skyline · 6 months ago

Text

Undying Loyalty

Napoleon & junot

I finally finished this piece it took me a while but I'm proud I might have rushed a few parts but in my opinion, it's good now I've hidden some things in my drawing so I'll explain it down here:

(Read till the end for some end notes)

First up we have Napoleon with his uninterested face to kind of symbolize him distancing himself from Junot and their friendship

Then we have the windflower also known as the anemone flower I chose this specific flower for its meaning which is: death or forsaken love (it's technically the red one that symbolizes that but I found out a bit late) I just thought this flower fitted Junot a lot with his future death and his forsaken love for Napoleon

I drew blood on napoleons hands and Junot's hair and clothes to kind of refer to that one time Napoleon pulled too hard on Junot's hair as a joke but it apparently reopened his head wound he had so I thought that also should be clarified

As Last I will mention the sort of angelic glow that Is coming behind Napoleon I did this to mention how Junot saw Napoleon in a kind of way he was very devoted to him in a lot of ways

End notes:

So I hope this kind of explains it if you want you can also try to interpret this drawing with your own opinion and meanings or talk about the relationship that they both had also I apologize if theirs any spelling mistakes or if my explanations are kind of ass 😞

#napoleonic era #napoleon bonaparte #art #jean andoche junot #napjuno #finished works #what exams do to a mf #angst

285 notes · View notes

latanyalove · 11 months ago

Text

My Daddy

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Sorry if there is not enough sexual tension in here that you guys must have wanted. I'm personally not used to the tern 'daddy' in that way but I tried my best!

-ˏˋ♥̩͙♥̩̩̥͙♥̩̥̩ ⑅ I hope you guys enjoy it! :) ⑅ ♥̩̥̩♥̩̩̥͙♥̩͙ˊˎ

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

"Straw Hat" Luffy

- was eavesdropping because he smelt food inside the room

˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚＊

"Okay Y/N, let's play another game. Uno is getting too boring," Nami muttered.

You nodded in agreement, your eyes scanning the room for a more exciting game to play. "How about we try a round of Charades?" you suggested, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Nah, I've got a better idea," Nami smirked.

"What is it?"

Nami grinned and explained, "It's a game where I'll say a word, and you have to say the first word that comes to mind. We'll go back and forth, and the goal is to see how quickly we can come up with a word."

"Sounds like a fun game! I'm up for the challenge," you replied with a competitive glint in your eyes.

"Okay, what do you associate with me?" Nami asked.

"The navigator," you said confidently.

"Wow, not drawing a map of the entire world?" Nami pouted, taking a sip of her drink.

"Well more people know you for the weather," you said, not affected by her whining.

"Okay, now what do you associate with me?" you asked, snacking one of the Sanji's desserts.

"Probably Luffy,"

"Luffy? Why Luffy?" you repeated.

Nami questioned, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, you two are always together, embarking on wild adventures and stirring up trouble."

"That's because I'm the one who keeps him in line and makes sure he doesn't get too carried away," you responded, causing Nami to laugh and playfully swat at your arm.

"What about you? What do you think of Luffy?"

"Daddy," you blurted out, causing Nami to burst into laughter.

"Oh, Daddy, huh?" Nami teased, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

"I never took you for the paternal type, Y/N. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?" she added, laughing uncontrollably as your face turned beet red.

"It's not what you think," you muttered shyly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Of course not," Nami teased, "Don't worry, I'll keep this a secret," she added, still giggling at your embarrassment.

Little did Nami and you know, Luffy had been eavesdropping on their conversation the entire time, his curiosity piqued by their game.

As Luffy listened in on their conversation, a confused frown spread across his face. "Y/N thinks of me as a daddy? What does that mean? I'll have to ask her about it later," Luffy muttered to himself.

The tantalizing aroma of dinner filled the air, diverting Luffy's attention from his bewildering thoughts about your comment. His stomach growled, and with a wide grin, he quickly made his way towards the source of the delicious smell. . . .

You had been fixing Luffy's hat after he fought a big boss and had gotten hold of his hat, carefully straightening out the dents and smoothing the fabric.

You had to carefully sew the straw hat back to gather, making sure to mend any tears or loose threads. As you worked, you couldn't help but marvel at the countless adventures Luffy had embarked on while wearing this iconic hat.

A part of you felt honored that you were responsible for fixing his hat, knowing that it symbolized not only Luffy's resilience and determination, but also the trust he had in you to take care of something so precious to him.

"Y/N! Y/N!" A voice yelled from behind you, making you jump. You turned to see Luffy himself, a wide grin on his face.

Luffy's wide grin was accompanied by beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, evidence of the intense play session he had with Usopp and Franky in the scorching heat. Despite the sweat, his vibrant energy seemed unfazed as he eagerly approached you.

"Luffy, you're supposed to be healing," you scolded, sighing as he sat beside you. "I can't believe you're already up and about after that intense battle. You really are something else."

"It's nothing," Luffy shrugged, his eyes fixated on the carefully repaired hat in your hands.

You sighed again before placing his hat on his head, feeling a sense of satisfaction as you saw it fit perfectly. "There you go, Luffy," you said with a smile. "Good as new. Just remember to take it easy and let yourself heal properly." Luffy nodded, his grin widening even more, as he proudly wore his beloved straw hat once again.

Though Luffy didn't stand or move as you placed all of the materials that you used away, his eyes never leaving you.

"So why did you call me daddy?" Luffy said suddenly.

You choked on your own breath, coughing in surprise as Luffy's unexpected question caught you off guard. Your mind raced, trying to make sense of what he had just said. "Wait, what?" you spluttered, eyes wide with confusion.

"I overheard you and Nami talking," Luffy started, munching on the food that was left on the table.

You turned to face Luffy, and despite his unexpected question, his eyes sparkled with pure energy.

"Do you even know what it means Luffy?"

"Nope,"

You turned away from him to collect your thoughts, trying to figure out how to explain the meaning of the word "daddy" to Luffy without making things awkward.

"But Nami told me," Luffy said, his mouth full of food.

"Really?"

"Yeah, but I still don't get it," Luffy munched. "It's used to address a male authority figure or idol in a sexualized manner."

Your cheek felt red as you struggled to find the right words to respond.

Nami! How could you tell him! You traitor!

"Does that mean I get to call you Mummy?"

As you processed Luffy's question, your mind started to malfunction, unable to comprehend the absurdity of the situation.

"Luffy," you stammered, trying to regain your composure, "saying those things is reserved for someone you deeply care about, someone you love romantically. It's not something you just casually say to anyone."

"That's exactly why we should do that!" Luffy argued. "I like you."

You froze, unsure of how to respond to Luffy's declaration. A part of you wanted to brush it off as a joke or a misunderstanding, but the sincerity in his eyes made you realize that he was serious.

"I need to go," I said, getting up and leaving, when Luffy grabbed your arm. His grip was unsurprisingly strong, and as I turned to face him, I saw the determination in his eyes.

"Don't you like me too?" he asked softly, his voice filled with vulnerability. You looked into Luffy's eyes, conflicted and unsure of how to respond.

A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, but you couldn't deny the growing affection you felt for him.

You then quickly went down on your knees and placed a small kiss on his lips, feeling a mix of nervousness and excitement. As you pulled away, Luffy's eyes widened in surprise, and a wide grin formed on his face.

"Let's take it slow okay," you said, flustered as you started to leave again.

"Okay!" Luffy agreed, following you with a beaming smile on his face, his hand reaching out to hold yours.

For the next week, Luffy continued to follow you around the ship, his excitement and affection evident in every action. However, his clinginess eventually caught the attention of Nami, who scolded him for being too clingy and reminded him to give you some space. . . . .

"Pirate Hunter" Zoro

- was eavesdropping because one of his swords was in the room (probably got lost)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

"Okay Y/N, let's play another game. Charades is getting too boring," Nami muttered, picking up an alcohol drink from the small nearby fridge.

You nodded in agreement, your eyes scanned the room for a more exciting game to play. "How about we try a round of Pictionary?" you suggested, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Nah, I've got a better idea," Nami smirked.

"Really? What is it?"

Nami grinned and explained, "It's a game where I'll say a word, and you have to say the first word that comes to mind."

"Sounds like a fun game! I'm up for the challenge," you replied with a competitive glint in your eyes.

"Okay, what would you associate with me?" Nami asked.

"Being the navigator," you said confidently.

"Wow, not drawing a map of the entire world?" Nami pouted, taking a sip of her drink.

"Well more people know you for your weather skills," you said, not affected by her whining.

"Okay, now what do you associate with me?" you asked, snacking one of the Sanji's desserts.

"Probably Zoro,"

"Zoro? Why Zoro?" you repeated louder, shocked.

Nami questioned, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I see how you look at him when he's fighting."

"That's because I'm just trying to study his moves to use them myself," you responded, causing Nami to laugh and playfully swat at your arm.

"What about you? What do you think of Zoro?" Nami asked after finishing her drink.

"Daddy," you blurted out, causing Nami to burst into laughter again.

"Oh, Daddy, huh?" Nami teased, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

"I never took you for the paternal type, Y/N. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?" she added, laughing uncontrollably as your face turned beet red.

"It's not what you think," you muttered, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Of course not," Nami teased, "Don't worry, I'll keep this a secret between the both of us," she added, still giggling at your embarrassment.

It was unknown to them that Zoro had been listening to their conversation from behind the door while they were talking.

His face turned slightly red at your unexpected response, and he quickly turned away, pretending not to have heard anything.

"Daddy, huh?" Zoro muttered to himself, flustered and completely forgetting about the sword he was going to retrieve.

He couldn't help but wonder what you meant by calling him "Daddy." The unexpected revelation left him feeling both intrigued and slightly embarrassed. . . .

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ:

After landing on another weird island, the crew was separated into two team; Nami, you, Zoro, Usopp and Robin, Franky, Luffy and Sanji while the rest stayed at the ship.

Unfortunately for you, you were stuck with the two biggest scaredy cats and a man with no sense of direction. What good luck did you really have?

First Zoro had got lost as soon as the group stepped into the forest and then a 13 foot tiger came over and scared the scaredy cat duo away, leaving you with a tamed tiger and an untamed forest.

"Where are these guys?" You asked yourself as the tiger let you on its back and they started to walk deeper into the mysterious forest.

The dense foliage began to give way to a clearing, revealing a hidden paradise unlike anything you had ever seen before.

"Where is who?" A voice said behind you, making you jump and turn around with your sword in your hands.

To your surprise, it was none other than Zoro himself, who had finally found his way back to you. "Zoro! How did you...?" you stammered, unable to hide your astonishment.

"Oh, were you looking for me?" Zoro smirked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I guess even a sense of direction as terrible as mine can still lead me to the right place. Lucky you, huh?"

You blushed at his comment, feeling a mix of annoyance and admiration for Zoro's confident demeanor. Placing your sword back into the sword holder, you replied, "Luck has nothing to do with it. I was perfectly capable of handling myself without you, you know."

"Of course you wouldn't admit it," Zoro said casually, walking closer to you on the tiger's back.

"Admit what?"

"Admit that you missed me," Zoro teased with a mischievous grin, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

"Why would I miss you?" you retorted, rolling your eyes. "I was doing just fine without your sense of direction and constant bickering. In fact, it was quite peaceful."

Zoro chuckled, his grin widening. "Oh, I see. So you don't miss my amazing company, huh? Then why did I hear that my nickname is daddy?"

"You spun around and looked at him in shock, unable to believe what you just heard. "Who told you that?" you asked, your voice filled with disbelief.

Zoro bursts into laughter, thoroughly enjoying your reaction. "Ah, so you do miss me after all," he said, his eyes twinkling mischievously.

How does he know? Did Nami tell him or was he at the door when I said it out loud?

"N-No," you said, your cheeks turning red with embarrassment. "That was just a silly joke someone made. It doesn't mean anything."

Zoro's laughter subsided, and he looked at you with a playful glint in his eyes. "Sure, sure," he said, his tone teasing. "Whatever you say, Y/N."

"So as your daddy, shouldn't you be more nice to me," his voice said behind you, catching you off guard.

A hand crept up to your waist, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You turned to find Zoro standing close, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. "Or maybe I should teach you a lesson," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain your composure despite the sudden proximity. "Oh, is that a threat, Zoro? I'd love to see you try," you replied, a smirk of your own forming on your lips.

Zoro's mischievous grin grew wider as he leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. "Oh, it's not a threat, Y/N," he murmured huskily. "It's a promise."

Quickly, you turned round to face him, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you. The air crackled with tension as his mischievous grin transformed into a smoldering gaze, and you couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through your body.

"How do you intend on fulfilling this promise?" you challenged, a mix of curiosity and anticipation in your voice. Zoro's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in even closer, his lips dangerously close to yours.

"Oh, I have a few ideas," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to see if your actions can live up to your words," you responded, a playful glint in your eyes.

Zoro's lips gently brushed against yours, sending an electric jolt through your body.

The kiss started soft and tender, filled with a mix of longing and desire. As the intensity grew, his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer as your lips moved in perfect synchronization.

Time seemed to stand still as the world faded away, and all that mattered was the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours. Every touch, every movement, was a dance of passion and connection, igniting a fire that burned between you.

It was a kiss that spoke volumes, a promise of the desire and pleasure that awaited as you surrendered to the magnetic pull between you. . . .

"Black Leg" Sanji

- was eavesdropping because he was looking for the girls to try his new drink

��•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

"Okay Y/N, let's play another game. Pictionary is getting too boring," Nami muttered, picking up an alcohol drink from the small nearby fridge.

You nodded in agreement, your eyes scanning the room for a more exciting game to play. "How about we try a round of Uno?" you suggested, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

"Nah, I've got a better idea," Nami smirked.

"Really? What is it?"

Nami grinned and explained, "It's a game where I'll say a word, and you have to say the first word that comes to mind."

"Sounds like a fun game! I'm up for the challenge," you replied with a competitive glint in your eyes.

"Okay, what would you associate with me?" Nami asked.

"Being the navigator," you said confidently.

"Wow, not drawing a map of the entire world?" Nami pouted, taking a sip of her drink.

"Well more people know you for your weather skills," you said, not affected by her whining.

"Okay, now what do you associate with me?" you asked, snacking one on the Sanji's desserts.

"Probably Sanji,"

"Sanji? Why Sanji?" you repeated, surprised.

Nami questioned, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I see you are with him."

"What do you mean?"

"Like how you're nice to him all the time," Nami gave an example.

"I'm being nice to him because he's nice to me," you responded, causing Nami to laugh and playfully swat at your arm.

"What about you? What do you think of Sanji?" Nami asked after finishing her drink.

"Daddy," you blurted out, causing Nami to burst into laughter again.

"Oh, Daddy, huh?" Nami teased, raising an eyebrow mischievously.

"I never took you for the paternal type, Y/N. Are you sure there's nothing you want to tell me?" she added, laughing uncontrollably as your face turned beet red.

"It's not what you think," you muttered shyly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"Of course not," Nami teased, "Don't worry, I'll keep this a secret between the both of us," she added, still giggling at your embarrassment.

Suddenly, you two heard a thud behind the door, causing both Nami's laughter and your embarrassment to fade instantly. They exchanged worried glances before cautiously approaching the door to investigate the source of the noise.

As blood started to leak into the room, they exchanged a horrified look before cautiously opening the door to find someone lying unconscious on the floor.

As they got a closer look, they realized it was Sanji lying unconscious on the floor. Panic washed over them as they quickly checked for any signs of injury, hoping he was alright.

Instead, they found that all of the bleeding came from his nose, and there were no other visible signs of injury.

"Sanji?" you whispered, shaking his shoulder gently. As he stirred awake, you asked, your voice filled with concern, "What happened? Are you okay?"

"Y/N?" Sanji muttered, his eyes still closed, "She thinks of me as a daddy?"

Nami sighed behind you, "he's such a pervert," before walking back into the room. . . .

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Sanji had passed out again after waking up the first time. Worried, you quickly called Chopper, knowing that Sanji needed medical attention and that he would be the best person to help get him back to his bed.

Chopper decided it was best to supervise Sanji in his doctor's office and turned into Heavy Point form to carry Sanji away, saying goodbye to you.

Feeling bad since you kind of caused Sanji to collapse, you decided to clean the dirty dishes he was supposed to do.

It's been five months since you joined the straw hat crew. Even though those months went by quickly, one particular blonde kept capturing your attention. Sanji's charm and chivalry had a way of drawing you in, and you found yourself growing more and more fond of him with each passing day.

You felt your face heat up as you remembered that Sanji had heard your conversation with Nami. The thought of him knowing your true feelings for him made your heart race and your cheeks flush even more.

"Why did I say that?" you muttered to yourself, regretting the slip of your true feelings. The embarrassment overwhelmed you, but deep down, a small part of you hoped that Sanji's passing out was due to something else entirely, and not your confession.

As you scrubbed the dirty dishes, you couldn't help but wish that Sanji would sleep until tomorrow, sparing you from the awkwardness and embarrassment.

However, with your captain's insatiable hunger and the pile of 50 plates waiting to be washed, it seemed like you would have to face Sanji sooner than you had hoped.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't realize that someone had quietly entered the kitchen until you felt a warm breath on your neck.

Startled, you turned around to find Sanji standing behind you, a concerned expression on his face. His arms were placed on top of yours, taking the plate that was about to fall out of your hands.

"Let me help you," he said softly, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

"Sanji! Aren't you supposed to be with Chopper?" you asked, turning around to face him, surprised by his presence in the kitchen.

Sanji smiled gently, his concerned expression turning into a playful one. "And leave you to do my duties? There is no way I would let you do it alone."

"But I caused this," you muttered, your hand gesturing to the bandage wrapped around Sanji's head. "I'm sorry for making you collapse earlier." Sanji's playful expression softened, and he gently grabbed your hand with his.

"Don't blame yourself," he reassured you. "It wasn't your fault. I should have taken better care of myself."

"Really?" you asked, your voice filled with disbelief. Sanji chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with warmth. "Really," he replied, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

As he spoke, he placed your hand on his cheek, his face turning slightly towards it. "In fact," he said, his voice filled with sincerity, "hearing your confession made me realize how much I care about you too."

Your heart skipped a beat as you processed Sanji's words, and a smile slowly spread across your face. "I'm glad," you whispered, your voice filled with genuine happiness.

"I care about you too, Sanji."

Slowly, your other hand rose up to link around Sanji's neck, pulling him closer to you.

"Can I kiss you?" Sanji muttered, his voice barely audible. You felt your cheeks flush as his words hung in the air, and without hesitation, you leaned in, closing the gap between you and sealing the moment with a gentle kiss.

Sanji moved back first, letting you catch your breath and giving you a moment to process the intensity of the kiss. As you both pulled away, a soft smile lingered on your lips, and you could see the same happiness reflected in Sanji's eyes.

"So you think of me as a daddy, huh?" he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Blushing, you took your hands away from his shoulder and used them to cover your face, feeling a mix of embarrassment and delight. "N-no! I mean, it's not like that!" you stammered, trying to hide your flushed cheeks.

Sanji chuckled, his playful teasing evident in his voice. "Relax, I was just kidding," he said, his eyes filled with affection as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.

"I mean the other kind of 'daddy'," you muttered, unable to look into his eyes.

"Are you sure you want that with me?" he questioned, raising your chin up to have eye contact with him.

You nodded, feeling a rush of courage and vulnerability intertwine. Wrapping your hands around his neck again, you gazed into his eyes and whispered, "Yes, Sanji. I want that with you."

Sanji quickly sneaked his hands low enough to lift you onto the kitchen counter, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

His lips found yours again, this time with a hunger that matched your own, as you both surrendered to the passion that had been building between you.

You felt your hands slide around his neck as you pulled him closer, the two of you lost in a heated embrace. His lips trailed down your neck, sending waves of pleasure through your body as your heart raced. You both pulled away, both breathing heavily as you looked into each other's eyes.

"I love you, daddy," you muttered, your voice filled with genuine affection and admiration.

"I love you too, my darling." Sanji said, capturing your lips one more time, sealing your declaration of love with a passionate kiss that left you breathless and craving for more. . . .

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