#final request done !!

[achillean-knight]

Part 1 - Part 2 Here you go, the final part. This is for you, Anon's who requested the continuation of this JKHGDSHGS

#long post #comic? #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy's ruin #fnaf ruin #fnaf help wanted 2 #help wanted 2 #still gonna tag this as HW2 spoilers bc idfk #HW2 #help wanted 2 spoilers #hw2 spoilers #mask bot #bonnie bully #bonnie bro #michael afton #this is finally done #I wanna draw this one ask requested by an anon that has Mask Bot in it but then I'm probably gonna retire from drawing him JKJHGFHDS #This was just got the fun of it folks #idm if the theory of the bonnie bully being mask bot is busted by canon #but I like it so I played along with it nyehhee #As I said in one of my other posts #I am a sucker for tragedy #my art #jeremy fitzgerald #my fnaf au art

[keyotos]

i am absolutely in love with ur writing AND with gepard landau,, can i request a first kiss fic for him? i read your kiss the girl fic for dan heng and ITS SO GOOD!! tysm in advance, take care of yourself!

teenage dream

summary ⎯ gepard knows he can't keep these feelings to himself. gepard also knows that he can never tell you about how he feels. so, he goes to the person he tells all his secrets to: serval. serval, who told pela. pela, who is determined to set you two up. and doing so, entails a bookish adventure for you to enjoy.

tana's words ⎯ i too am in love with gepard. i feel u anon. also thank u for the kind words!

tags ⎯ matchmaking (serval and pela). first kiss. pining (this should be expected). bookish!reader. bookstore owner!reader. oblivious idiots.

IT’S EXTREMELY SURPRISING TO HEAR GEPARD frantically knocking on the doors of nevermore workshop, so serval obviously had to open the doors for him.

when he entered, gepard immediately shut the doors as if he was being followed. the expression on his face was dire; he looked as if he was chased by wolves and he was being hunted down.

“gepard?” serval asked, concern dripping in her tone, “what the hell happened?”

“serval,” gepard panted. serval was getting worried; this was all irregular behavior coming from gepard, “i need help.”

gepard never asked for help. he is one of the most self-sufficient and stubborn people serval knows. he would rather stare death in the face instead of asking someone for help.

“what is it?” serval rushed by his side, “whatever you need, i got you.”

“i think i have feelings for,” gepard sighed, palm dragging across his face, “the owner of the bookstore,” he finishes quietly.

serval’s jaw dropped. it wasn’t because of the declaration of gepard’s crush. it was that he made it sound so dramatic. serval thought that he was being tracked down and was about to be sent to the madhouse.

“are you serious!” serval shoved gepard, “i thought you were about to die or something!”

gepard recoiled at serval’s shove; his sister was stronger than most people thought, “it feels like i am! every time i’m around them my heart rate quickens so much that i think i’m about to have a heart attack. i get all nervous on the inside and i can barely think with them beside me.”

aeons, gepard has definitely fallen in love with you.

“wait⎯so, where are you gonna go from here?” serval leaned on the counter, trying to process all the words her brother confessed.

“that’s the thing,” gepard sighed again. he sounded like a lovesick puppy, “i don’t know. that’s why i came here, i thought you’d be able to help.”

“um. you are aware of my past relationship with cocolia, right? i think i’m like the least qualified person you should be asking romance advice from,” serval pointed out.

“i don’t know who else i could tell,” gepard ran a hand through his hair. this was really stressing him out.

“how about you just… tell them?” serval suggested.

“no!!” gepard shook his head distraughtly, “i can’t do that. what if they don’t feel the same?”

“then it’s not meant to be,” serval said, “simple as that.”

“but it’s not,” gepard whined. serval thought he was making this a lot more complicated than it needed to be. when she was his age, she confessed her feelings to cocolia like it was nothing. they were happy until the break up anyway.

but then it donned on serval. gepard had little to no relationship experience. the only “experience” serval remembers him having was when they were children: his friend had a crush on him and tried to confessed, but gepard rejected her.

that’s why gepard was so distressed. he had no idea how to go on with this. these feelings for you? all new. what he missed out as a teenager, he is now getting as an adult.

“tell you what,” serval wrapped her arm around her brother’s shoulder, “i’ll get this sorted out. trust me. yn will never know about this,” she reassured him.

“you just go along with your guardly duties. i’ll help you,” serval grinned. she knew that she had the perfect plan. except, she couldn’t do it alone.

pela already knew about your crush on the silvermane guard captain. every time he greeted the two of you at the book store, pela practically saw the hearts in your eyes. it was sickening and disgusting, but it was cute too.

what pela didn’t know, however, was that gepard has a crush on you as well.

serval came to pela just a few minutes after gepard’s confession. she knew that she probably shouldn’t have told pela right after the conversation happened, but serval didn’t know how else to console gepard.

“so… you’re telling me that they both like each other?!” serval slammed her hands on the counter. “and they’re both too scared to confess!?”

“that’s exactly what i said, yes,” pela monotonously replied.

you knew that there couldn’t be anything between you and gepard. it was highly improbable that you, a bookstore owner, would be able to gain the captain of the silvermane guard’s interest. it seemed like something straight out of a fictional (key word: fictional) romance novel.

so you appreciated his friendship while he was around. sometimes, as a way to become closer to the captain, you’d suggest different books to him every week. despite being on the front lines quite often, he always comes back to see you. well, he comes back for the books anyway.

serval groaned into her hands, “so what do we do? they both like each other but they literally can’t bear to admit it.”

pela smirked. she’s read enough romance novels to figure out what to do next.

“two words, serval,” pela smirked, “grand. gesture.”

gepard took a few deep breaths before approaching your book store. after his chat with serval, he's been distressed the entire day. he had these feelings for you storming all over his body; occasionally, they'd get so strong that it would feel like those feelings would overtake him.

he opened the door, book in hand, and greeted you formally. gepard couldn't help it: he was so nervous, he wasn't able to function straight.

"hello, captain gepard," you turned around. you were on a latter stacking books on top of bookshelves. originally, you thought it would be cool to have towering shelves, however you quickly learned that it was extremely impractical and difficult.

"i told you," gepard stood near the counter, refusing to slouch in your presence, "you can call me gepard."

"and i told you," you grunted, trying to reach a higher spot on a shelf, "to drop the formalities," you grinned to yourself.

gepard noticed your (potentially) perilous situation and quickly got near the end of the latter. in the case that you fall, at least gepard would be there to catch you.

fortunately, you made your way down the tall latter peacefully. as you descended, the sight of gepard holding down the latter for you made you flush. it was the bare minimum, but it still made your heart speed up.

when he reached out his hand to guide you down (it was out of instinct), you gave him a warm smile. it looked easy on the outside, but you were burning up on the inside. similarly, gepard had the same reaction. for you, he'd do anything.

"thank you," you held onto his hand for a little longer. once you realized what you were doing you quickly recoiled your hand away and apologized. gepard wished your hand was still entwined with his; he wanted to hold onto to the feeling of your hand in his. gepard wanted to trace patterns on your hands, wanted to feel every part of them.

as an attempt to dissipate the tension (it was making you nervous), you decided to ask gepard for help. "we had a busy day yesterday. a best seller recently came out; people were storming the shelves. good for my profit but not good for my sanity," you let out an airy laugh, "would you mind helping me clean up?"

realizing what you just did (asking the captain of the silvermane guards for help) you quickly added, "unless you're busy! then i'll be okay. you can leave. i'll be fine," you rambled.

gepard parted his lips, almost as if he was about to say something. how could you ever think he wouldn't make time for you? even so, he'd deploy a few other guards if you needed help. he'd make sure your needs were met as soon as possible.

he reached his arm out; his hands were close to your collarbone. then he reached back, scared of what would happen next. how silly. the captain of the silvermane guards was not scared of no monster, but of rejection of the one he likes.

"i'll stay for anything," gepard blurted. you were taken aback for a second, but then once you realized what he had just said, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and covertly pinched yourself to make sure that whatever was happening was not a dream.

gepard didn't intend to add, "anything," to his sentence. but his mind was thinking it, and then it just accidentally came out. he meant what he said though. if the bluntness of his voice didn't show his sincerity, the blush that was slowly grazing his face probably did.

"thank you, gepard," you bit the inside of your lip to keep yourself from beaming too hard. you had to turn away from the captain once again, for your smile at his words would be too embarrassing to show. how silly of you to act so giddy and childish at one simple word.

gepard thinks he could hear you say his name a million times, and he would never get bored. he wants to hear his name on your lips as if it were a mantra; you've said his name a few times before, and each time he swears he gets more and more addicted to the sound.

"how about i start on the right and you'll start on the left. that way, we'll both finish in the middle!" you clapped your hands together. you gave gepard a reassuring smile.

you two started on opposite sides, but how gepard wished that you two would be closer. however, there are positives to this situation. gepard can brainstorm ideas for the "grand gesture" pela and serval texted him about.

gepard already had ideas in mind. he just needed to figure out the material for them. he obviously will not tear out papers from a book; that will cause more harm than good (for you and gepard; he cares about books).

while gepard was planning, you were blushing. you still couldn't believe he actually stayed with you. surely, there are more important deeds than helping out a leisurely bookstore owner. and this was the most boring task ever: organizing books. yet, gepard was still here. and he was only a few feet away from you.

you turned back to observe gepard; you wanted to see if you had trapped him in a boring task or not. to your surprise, gepard seemed to be enjoying this. he would flip through pages of various books, spend time reading the summaries; gepard would even go as far to reading the first few pages of some books.

gepard liked to read. at first, he started coming to the bookstore to fetch some books for pela. however, after he met you, he began to adopt a newfound interest in books that he never had before. he read some of pela's books, discovered that he did not like them, and went to browse for more. that's when you came up. you thought you had talked his entire ear off that entire morning; you went on and on and on about what kind of books he would like.

you tried to ignore him afterwards; you even offered the books for free because you were so embarrassed. but gepard kept coming back. your recommendations impressed him: gepard had never met anyone who was so meticulous at their craft. and he loved hearing you talk. he loved your rambles, your rants, your reviews. maybe that was the first sign.

gepard caught your gaze as he turned around. he had the same motivation as you: he wanted to see how you were faring in this task. did you miss the proximity you had before? are you flustered as well? do you like him too?

you two were both staring at each other, thoughts racing, until you shouted, "see something you like?" to break the tension.

gepard thought the question was a taunt at first; similar to asking, "like what you see?"

"no!" he abruptly shouted, trying to hide the fact that he was just staring at you. and then he realized the real meaning of your question: he was browsing the books with such intensity. the truth was, he was trying to find your favorite books. you've informed him about them before, always on your bookish rants. he was going to use them for his gesture later on.

thinking that he now looks like an idiot, gepard tries to save himself by shouting back, "i mean⎯ yes! i do. these books are nice," he tried to cover up.

you seemed not to register his mistake, as you tell him, "whatever you want, it's on the house. for your work today. it'll be on the house for life!" you put some books on some shelves and move closer to the middle.

gepard shook his head and chuckled, "you've always given books to me for free." he put some books back and continued around the room.

"are you complaining?" you raised an eyebrow, "what if i just kept a tab on you this entire time? and you never knew?" more books get put away.

"then i'd rightfully pay you back," gepard wholeheartedly responded, "or i'd arrest you," he joked.

you mock-gasped, "for what?" you're getting closer to the middle now.

stealing my heart, the intrusive part of gepard's mind thought. he'd been hanging out with serval too much; he would never say that. gepard internally cringed.

"false advertising," he moved closer to the middle, “i don't know," he smiled to himself. gepard doesn't think he would have the heart to arrest you.

you blushed at hearing the captain lost on amendments. the captain wouldn't know how to arrest you. is this flirting? or are you reading too much into it?

you don't know if the heat on the back of your neck is from gepard's words or the sun shining so brightly on the back of your neck. you stack some more books on shelves; you've now reached the middle. you're having trouble reaching one of the shelves, but you're too lost in your thoughts to even think about that.

in fact, you're too lost in your thoughts that you don't even notice the warmth disappear from the back of your neck. your cheeks are still warm, so you are still blushing. your struggles with the tall bookshelf are lost when you feel a hand over yours.

"i'll take that," gepard quietly mumbles. it's so quiet that you didn't hear it at first.

on instinct, you turn towards him. when you looked at the position the both of you were in, you noticed that you were caged against him. you were caged against the captain of the silvermane guards. against a bookshelf.

gepard towered over you. his body was centimeters closer to fully pressing on you. his breath was fanning on your face. you could see every detail of his face from your view from below. your hands were so close to grazing his chest, so you immediately slapped them to your sides. you gulp, you start to breath quicker, and you feel like you're about to combust.

you swallowed, trying not to move. you were frozen in place as you tried not to disturb gepard. you gaped at him as he was working to organize the books, not noticing the position the two of you were in.

when gepard finished, he gave a sigh of relief. he underestimated your job: if you had to do this every day, you were probably stronger than some of his soldiers. when he opened his eyes, he was greeted by your wide eyes staring right into his.

he was breath-taken by your beauty. the look in your eyes as you look into his was captivating. gepard needed it framed. the way your lips parted made him go feral; his heart stuttered with every second he looked at you.

his arm was pinned above your head. your bodies were so close that you kept focusing on the rise and fall of gepard’s chest. the way his expression scanned yours made you want to quiver against him.

you said the first sentence, “hard work?” your tone was breathless. you were still trying to catch your breath.

“yeah,” he sighed, still not noticing the way your bodies curved into each other, “hard work.”

“did i waste your time?” you whispered. it was quiet, like you were ashamed of your actions. you looked down at his chest rather than his face.

“no,” gepard leaned in, trying to hear your voice one more time. he tilted your head up slightly with his fingers so you could look at him, “you’d never.”

silence crippled the room. it was just you and gepard, the two of you leaning oh-so-close together that your lips were nearly about to touch. a part of you wanted to lean into him; you wanted to pull him closer and closer until you were both out of breath.

but that was delusional. that was something straight out of romance novels, and your life was anything but.

gepard leaned in closer on purpose. he gave into temptation and wanted to feel your lips on his. he wanted to grab you by the waist and pull you so tightly into him. he wanted this: he wanted your kiss, he wanted your insight, he wanted you.

but with gepard, want is not something one could have. especially one like him.

“i’m sorry,” he abruptly let go, “i’m⎯i think, i have something i need to do,” he took a few steps back away from you, leaving about three feet in distance. quite the opposite from how you two were positioned a few seconds ago.

“oh,” you let go immediately. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know,” you quickly ran to the other side of the room. you wanted to hide from embarrassment.

“not your fault!” gepard shouted as he headed for the exit, “goodbye mx yn!”

you didn’t bother to say goodbye as you slammed the door shut after he left. what just happened was mortifying. the position you two were in? the way you two gradually leaned closer to each other? no wonder he ran away, you thought, you must’ve scared him off.

oh, if only you knew how wrong you were.

you didn't see gepard for a week after the incident. he hadn't come into the bookstore at all the entire week. however, that also could've been your fault: you've been in and out of the bookstore for the past week. if you faced gepard after the incident (you've dubbed), you'd probably apologize and beg for forgiveness.

but still, wouldn't he come in and leave a note? wouldn't he at least stop by once? did you scare him off that badly? the more you thought about it, the more you thought about becoming a hermit.

you'd thought you terrified him and ruined your friendship (and any future hope of a relationship) until flowers appeared on the counter of the bookstore. your assistant refused to let you know who they were from.

you bent down and eyed the pot of flowers sitting on the counter. they were your favorite color: pink. you had to admit, they were gorgeous. they looked well grown, as if these were from a master gardener. the flowers bloomed perfectly, each petal reaching out for the sun.

the message of the flowers also intrigued you. begonias are the flowers that symbolizes knowledge and deep thoughts. whoever gifted these to you must have been very observant or they wanted to be your intern.

"did someone come by asking to be my intern?" you stood up and put your hands on your hips. your lip twisted in thought. you were a bit preoccupied at the moment; the bookstore was getting exceptionally busy and (with your whole gepard crisis going on) you didn't think you were fit to be a mentor at the moment.

"no," your assistant shook her head. you leaned back on the counter, wondering why (and who) would gift you flowers on such a strange day. you already knew it wasn't gepard, due to the awkward tension surrounding the both of you right now, so you had a big list to narrow down.

"but," your assistant continued, "someone dropped off this letter with the flowers. they told me to give it to you after you saw the flowers," your assistant handed you the letter.

it was very formal, the letter. it's envelope was very extravagant, fit for someone with high standards. the stamp was still warm, meaning that this letter had been written recently. you tore open the envelope to reveal it's contents.

yn,

please do me the honor of accompanying me to everwinter cafe tonight. i would really appreciate seeing you there.

gl

"g.l." you paused, "as in green lantern?!" you asked your assistant, wide eyes and all. "who is trying to cosplay as a superhero to talk to me? this is insane. did i owe someone a book or something? charged them extra?" you panicked.

your assistant frowned at your idiocy. who else could 'gl' entail to besides gepard landau? "what if it's the captain," your assistant urged on, nudging your shoulder.

"it couldn't be the captain," you jolted. does your assistant know? "we barely even talk," you try to reason.

"he comes in here nearly every day," your assistant counters, "if not every day, be it every other day," they sighed.

"he just comes in to look at books," you placed the flowers in a safe space in the shelves. "we don't converse as often as you think."

"you talk every day," you assistant drags on. "you're telling me that the two of you have no relations whatsoever?"

"we⎯it's complicated," you sighed, "long story short, it could never be the captain," you looked down at the plant. even if it was gepard, what was he doing? sending anonymous flowers? cryptic notes? why couldn't he just talk to you?

"you should go," your assistant encouraged, "you never know. it could be the captain or it could be another potential secret admirer."

"you think?" you raised an eyebrow. your assistant nodded in response.

you looked at the flowers one more time. though you wished it was gepard who sent them, you knew it was probably someone else trying to flatter you into taking them in as an intern. but as you stared at the begonias, no other thoughts beside gepard consumed your mind

it was late when you walked to everwinter cafe. tonight was not a particularly chilly night, but belobog's slight chill was ever present.

you walked around aimlessly, trying to walk slowly so you can prolong the sight of your "intern." you tried to focus on other things as you walked past, such as the plants and heaters surrounding the city. it's wondrous how things such as plants are still able to flourish in times like these.

as you viewed your surroundings, you saw a note placed on a lamppost close to the cafe. it read, "'i know you're working. i wanted to be somewhere...' safe? familiar? comfortable? 'near you.'

you automatically knew which book that quote was from. book lovers by emily henry. it was your favorite romance book; you've raved about it many times with gepard.

as you continued, you saw another note, "'if you saw yourself the way other people see you, you'd never doubt again.' 'how do people see me?' 'like you're the most beautiful, most remarkable, thing they've ever seen."

you must admit, you blushed a little bit while internally reading that. the only reason you blushed was that because you discussed that quote with gepard. you were talking about the 'twisted' series and how it had it's pros and cons with gepard, and this quote was one of the pros.

another read, "'who are they? the best part of my day.'"

another, "books she has found, are a way to live a thousand lives."

and the last, "'favorite word?' 'you.'"

you quickly noticed that these were all quotes from your favorite books. these are books you've only discussed and rambled about with one person: gepard. you'd never thought he would've actually read these books. let alone, you'd never thought gepard would also quote them.

with slightly more hope than before, you ran up to everwinter cafe.

"did you get my message?" gepard stood tall in front of you. you couldn't look into his eyes and it was killing him.

"your letter? yes, i did. and your flowers too. they were beautiful," you rocked back and forth on your heels.

"thank you, i grew them myself," he gave you a soft smile. you wanted to talk about how he managed to even grow such beautiful flowers, but how could you talk to him if you couldn't even look at him in the eyes? "but, did you get my message?"

you looked down at the many notes in your hand. it turns out gepard had left notes after all, "oh yes. i did," you blushed at the obvious context of the quotes. "all my favorite books."

"yeah," gepard spoke breathlessly, as if all of his air had run out after he started speaking to you, "but did you get my message?" he looked at your face for any type of indication: whether you liked him back, hated him, or had no strong feelings towards him. his eyes darted throughout your face, and the sight made you slightly flustered. he was leaning over you, and you thought you saw his eyes graze over your lips.

then it donned on you. the flowers. the letter. the sneaking out at night. the romantic context of all the quotes. the way all the quotes were from your favorite books that you've only talked about with him. the way gepard has admired and remembered every single thing about you. your stomach dropped as you realized gepard had been feeling the same things you have felt for him this entire time. your heart pounded in your chest as you finally met his eyes in the pale moonlight.

"yes," you swiftly exhaled. it was like all your hidden feelings for gepard were compacted in your chest, and when you finally breathed, they were all let out. it was like all your troubles were leaving you, "i did."

"and..." gepard trailed off, now failing to meet you in the eyes. he was terrified of your rejection; your opinion was one of the things that mattered most to him. before, he regarded it was his passion for the people, but now he recognizes that he was just passionate for you. "did you like it?"

"i loved it," you smiled; it wasn't just a soft smile this time, like the ones you've always given him. it was a big smile: loud and talkative, much like you. one smile could convey so much.

but you still had thoughts, "i didn't need all of this though," you grabbed his hand for reassurance. you were in range of his lips. you could close the gap right now.

gepard froze; your words and your touch made him tense. he was finally able to look you in the eye, having prepared himself for iminent rejection and was ready to leave. whatever you needed, he would do.

"what do you need?" gepard asked frantically. "whatever you need, i will give it to you. whether it be space or never seeing me again."

what you needed? you needed his thoughts, his opinions, his reassurance. you needed his touch on a cold night, you needed his arm around you when you were cold, you needed to feel him beside you on nights similar to this. you needed everything that he was.

"i need you," you whispered up on his lips. "right now."

and gepard swore the entirety of everwinter city heard his heart drop to the ground. he was sure that you could feel his heart pounding in his chest after you said those five words. only five words, yet gepard felt like he was going insane. he was going insane for you: your touch, your mind, your words, your entirety.

gepard removed his hand from yours for just one second, using it to tip your chin up so you could be in his view. in the pale moonlight, you were gorgeous. to be fair, you were always gorgeous, but something about tonight extenuated your beauty.

"can i⎯"

"don't even ask," you cut him off, leaning into him.

the kiss was soft and sweet at first. the feeling of your lips pressed onto his was heavenly: gepard felt ten times stronger with you than with anything else. it was gentle and tender.

but when you tugged your arms around his neck, all restraint went out the window.

gepard moved his hand from your chin to your waist, pulling you closer into him. it was bold for his first kiss, but who could blame him when you're holding onto to him so tightly?

you threaded your hands through his hair as he kissed you feverishly. his hands on your waist made you want to combust into him. you were standing on your toes at this point; if you tried to stand any taller, gepard was about to lift you up into the air.

when you finally stopped to breath, all that was left in the air was your love and the light from the sky.

"was i your first kiss?" you asked him coyly, arms still wrapped around his neck.

gepard blushed and you immediately knew his answer to your question. you stood up one more time to give him one more quick kiss.

yes, you were his first kiss. and gepard wished for more to come.

i need a week off after this fic i swear to god

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗) #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr #hsr x reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau #gepard hsr #gepard x you #gepard landau x you #tana answers: request ver #FINALS WEEK IS OVER I FINALLY GOT THIS DONE WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO #gepard

[betweendyingstars]

Marylily with baby Harry

#this was requested in response to my jegulus with baby Harry post literal months ago but I finally did it!! #it’s actually probably one of my favourites I’ve ever done #I just love them so much ugh #the marauders #lily evans #mary macdonald #harry potter #marylily #lily evans fanart #mary macdonald fanart #harry potter fanart #marylily fanart #marauders fanart #marauders era #marauders era fanart #marauders #fanart #my art

[kaytub]

HAPPY 37 DAY!! MY FAVOURITE NUMBER AND MY FAVOURITE CHARACTERS

#37 #3/7/24 #37 reverse 1999 #march 7th #hsr #r1999 #reverse 1999 #yes im a day late but i was so damn tired i could not hold my pen #(i also LOST my apple pencil so that was awesome) #i found it tho #now that im done this drawing i can finally work on a request someone gave me awhile back goodness 😭😭😭 #sillies #fanart #art #digital art

[non-stop-imagines]

Be My Baby

Prequel to Repeat That

From this, this, this, this, and this request!💖

Word Count: ~11k words w/ smau

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Black Content Creator!Reader ( Halle Bailey face claim)

Warning: Smut (p in v, masturbation (?),), Soft!Dom and protective Max, reader going into a subspace for the first time and Max handling it like a champ, Twitter Environment, mention of food, mention of alcohol, Max yearning literally the entire way through 😘 Minors DNI!!! 18+

A/N: Round of applause everyone! It's here! It's done! You all need to pat yourselves on the back for getting me through this. It was literally the most stressful yet enjoyable thing to write, because, fun fact I am a perfectionist when I am doing this for other people and I just wanted this to be all you ever hoped for. Hope you all popped your popcorn, got out a blanket, and have the lights down low. LOVE YOU ALL SO FREAKING GOSH DARN MUCH!!!💖💛💖💛💖 (Also I didn't write the fic from the song but it came on while on my way to work and I was like "wow, this is perfect")

A/N 2: All of the pictures used for the smau portions are all from pinterest and are not my own product.

Masterlist

___________________★♥★___________________

babygurlyn

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babygurlyn Stay tuned! 👀🏎️

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user1 She goin on side quests now??

user2 Finna stunt on that entire paddock in that outfit 💖😫

f1 👀👀

>babygurlyn Excited for my first race!🤩

>f1 Excited to have you 😁

user3 Okay but imagine one of the drivers falling in love with her so she can drop her punk ass dude 🫥

>user4 My money is on Lando 🧍🏼‍♀️

   "You guys, I don't know how, I definitely don't know why, but we are here. Where is here you ask? Well if you didn't pay attention to the title of the video, I am in Miami for the inaugural Formula 1…hold on there's and entire name. Give me a second." You hold up a finger to your camera and reach into your fanny pack that you had strapped across your body for your phone, opening up your browser. "Formula 1 Crypto.com Miami Grand Prix." You smile back at the camera as you clumsily replace your phone back in the pack. "Like I said before, I'm not completely sure why I was chosen to attend because I have NEVER watched Formula 1, but you guys have heard me yell at my boyfriend for having it on too loud while I'm recording, so maybe that has something to do with it. Either way, thank you to Formula 1 for the invite, can't wait to learn about the sport in person" After one last bright smile to the camera, you stop the camera and drop your arm, a chipper smile still on your face as you practically bounce to the turnstiles to enter the paddock, in awe of the number of people, large buildings, and TV cameras through the area. You look for the group you were with, various other famous content creators invited to the Grand Prix, but have no luck as the crowd of people thickened, which seemed surprising to you. "Shouldn't some of these kids be at school? It's Friday!" You mildly whisper to yourself as you look for any sign of familiarity. You walk further into the area, starting to pass by the previously mentioned buildings, politely smiling at people but neglecting to ask for assistance. You initially were actively looking for the group you were with, but after a long stint of time with no familiar face, you just counted your losses and began to explore the area on your own.

   Now, while you were unsure as to why you were chosen to attend the grand prix, and had absolutely no idea how Formula 1 works, you’ve always been fascinated. You would watch races in passing, as your boyfriend would have the TV hemmed up every race weekend, and have watched him play the video game a couple times, but you’ve been too afraid to ask how everything worked, not wanting to be called stupid or anything else for inquiring about something that you genuinely wanted to know more about. So being here, seeing a race weekend in person, alone, was honestly exactly what you needed, as long as you keep your ringer off so as to not have your text tone be a constant nuisance.

You decided that if you were going to explore everything yourself, it might as well be on camera, so lift up your vlogging camera which was strapped to your wrist and hit record. “Okay so…I lost everyone. I was vlogging and didn’t realize the group left and so technically I am lost. BUT I should be able to find where I need to go and you guys are going to come with me." You continue to walk further into the paddock, looking around for anything that may be able to point you in the correct direction. Somewhere along your journey, you found yourself venturing between buildings passing boxes and stacks of tires. "Okay, I'm starting to think that I'm not supposed to be here. It feels very top secret." You take another look at the cases, paying attention to the logo. "Red Bull? Like the drink?" You keep walking, camera facing you, and you looking everywhere but forward, fascinated by the behind the scenes glimpse that you were getting. Unfortunately, this meant you were blindly walking forward, unaware of the person walking the opposite direction who tried to stop for you, but you still crashed into them, bouncing back and beginning to fall backwards due to the force you walked into them with. Luckily, the unknown person was able to quickly reach around you to keep you upright, loosening their grip once they're sure you're steady on your feet, but still keeping their hands on your waist.

   You look up into blue eyes, widened from the shock of the sudden interaction, messy blond hair and slightly parted pink lips that confirms the look of concern. "Sorry."

   "That's okay." You were an angel to Max. It was the look of your wide brown eyes, the depth and darkness of your irises enhancing their bright innocent look, and adding to the bubbly aura you exuded. He felt the need to grin or smile at you because you were looking up at him like a scared puppy, waiting for punishment.

   "I should've been watching where I was going. I really am sorry. Geez, I always do that, get too wrapped up in everything else and I don't pay attention to what's around me." You continue to grumble to yourself as you lift up your camera to stop your vlog recording.

   "Hey, really, it's okay. I'm fine, still intact." Max finally lifted his hands from your waist to motion up and down his body, a gesture that makes you chuckle, lifting the mood slightly, before you continue to look around, trying to figure out where you came from. "Uh, quick question," Max's voice reminds you of his presence, his looming height still watching you curiously. You nod, allowing him to continue with his question. "Do you know who I am?" You tilt your head to the question that was posed with genuine wonder. You seemed so unphased by his presence, and he would think that even a person who disliked him would have reacted, negatively or otherwise.

   "Oh, no I- are you security!? Because I really just got lost, I'm not trying to steal secrets or anything. This is my first race, I wouldn't know what secrets to steal-" 

   "Hey, it's fine. It was a stupid question. Uh, so, this is your first race? Have you watched Formula 1 before?" Max's arm props up the other as he reflexively scratches at his neck with a singular finger.

   "Yeah, but I've never watched Formula 1 before. My boyfriend does though, I just…I don't know. I feel like he would make fun of me if I asked him about it so I've refrained." Your eyes venture down from his face for the first time, giving you a glimpse of the race suit he had on, like the ones in the couple of driver photos you noticed on the way in. "I like your costume. You must be, like, a Formula 1 super fan."

   "Yeah, you can say that." The throaty chuckle that came from Max made you feel warm, a sentiment building for the stranger.

   "I do have a question." It was your turn now, and the rise of  Max's eyebrows in intrigue made your heart skip a beat. "Red Bull? Is there really a team for the energy drink?"

   "Haha, yes. Yes, there is. I think they're pretty alright." You loved the bright laughing smile that grew on his face, it was contagious and caused you to reciprocate a short giggle.

   "I can see that." You take a moment to recall what you saw while walking down the paddock earlier. "I think I saw that there was a pink team. I'll probably support them until I learn the sport and all the teams." Max chuckles lightly at your statement and briefly checks his watch for the time, something that alerts you to do the same. "Oh, I think something is supposed to start soon."

   "Yeah, I definitely should get going. Oh, but let me help you first." Max starts looking up from your face and begins mentally mapping out where he needed to go.

   "Oh! Uh, do you want to be in my vlog? Completely forgot about this thing." You lift up the hand that was looped through the strap of your vlog camera.

   "Ah, sure. I would love to." There was that smile again, one that took up his entire face and that you had to tear your eyes from to start recording.

   "Okay, guys. So, I found a sign of life." You maneuvered yourself so you were standing next to him and could see in the flipped up viewfinder that he was in the shot as well. "Everyone, this is- oh! I didn't get your name!"

   "Max." After your realization, you had turned your head to look at Max so when he answers he turns his head to look into your eyes, camera be damned.

   "Max…" You stop for a moment, the thinking face you make while still looking at Max was five steps past adorable. "Can I call you Maxie? I think it fits you."

   "Yes, you can." Max chuckles at the refreshing innocence and oblivion that you approached him with. It was nice to be "Maxie" for a moment and not Max Verstappen.

   "Everyone, this is Maxie, apparently a Red Bull super fan with this racing costume that I love," You look towards him again and wave your hand in his general vicinity after making sure the camera could see the rest of his body.

   "Thank you." Max actively stops the laugh that is trying to come out, opting for a wide, flattered grin.

   "You're welcome!" It was your turn now to flash a bright smile up Max that made him melt. You turn back to the camera. "Maxie here is going to help me find my way out of the, what I am assuming is, restricted area that I found my way into, so let's all say thank you to Maxie." You stop the recording and fully turn your body to Max, flipping down the viewfinder and ensuring that your camera was off. "Thank you, again. Really. This has all been pretty stressful, so it's nice to have gotten a bit of kindness today. Anyhoo, lead the way Maxie!" Max chuckles and motions in the direction you two would be going, but instead of walking in front of you he walked beside you, taking a mental snapshot of how it felt to have you beside him.

   "Why has this been stressful, if you don't mind me asking?" You guys continue behind the buildings, heading what felt like further down the paddock.

   "Oh, not at all. Um, well, I've had to turn the ringer on my phone down because my boyfriend has been blowing me up complaining and questioning why I came here when I know nothing about Formula 1 and that I should've asked for another ticket for him or let him go instead…The past week has been a mess in that department. And now embarrassingly getting lost and having to have a random helpful stranger, with a very comforting smile and aura by the way, assist me in finding my way. At least vlogging it lightens the blow a bit." You swing your arms a bit, looking at the buildings you're passing by.

   "Thank you for the compliment. And I'm glad I am able to help, even if it is just a little bit." He purposefully does not mention your boyfriend, you've only mentioned him twice and both times gave Max chest pains. You both walk a few more steps then stop nearly in sync at the opening of another alley with a view of the paddock. "Okay, so, I believe if you walk through there and turn left there should be signs leading you to the grandstands. Hopefully there will be someone there that can lead you to where you need to go." You turn to face Max again and a gentle grin plants itself on his face, wishing he could just stay with you all day.

   "Thank you again for being so kind. I hope you have a good time at the race." You smile politely and then start making your way down the alleyway between paddock buildings.

   "Wait! I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?" Max closed the gap a bit between you two with a couple of steps.

   "Oh, it's Yn." That adorable smile was plastered on your face when you turned back to Max.

   "Well, Yn, I hope we can see each other again. At this race or another." He grinned again. Truthfully he hated seeing you leave. He hated that he actually had no time for what he was doing right now, but he could care less about that. What he loved though, was finally knowing your name and hearing it come from his mouth for the first time. It felt as natural as breathing. What he loved even more was hearing his newly minted nickname in your beautiful voice as you responded.

   "Me too, Maxie! See ya!" And then, to Max's despair, you were off toward the grandstands and he had to turn back to get ready for FP1.

   You stalk up to the Red Bull motorhome, showing security the necessary pass before walking into the building, grinning politely at people in passing until a woman approaches you smiling and holding another pass.

   "Yn! Hi, I'm Carrie, I'm the head of hospitality for Red Bull Racing." She holds out her empty hand that you meet with a handshake. "Welcome to Monaco. I'm glad to see that you made it here in one piece." She waves for you to follow her and hands you the pass as you two begin to walk out of the building and across the paddock.

   "I'm glad too, the Miami, uh," You took a moment to remember the Formula 1 lingo you’ve learned since Miami. "Paddock. The Miami paddock was a walk in the park compared to this one." You giggle and follow Carrie into what you assume is the garage.

   "Yeah, Monaco is a very complicated place on many different levels." She continues to lead you through the barriers of the garage.

   "Can I ask a quick question?" You both stop and move to the side . "Is it Red Bull that invited me here or, you know…Max?" You weren't sure why, but you were desperate to know this information.

   "Both. But I will say that was Max's idea." She points to the pass she gave you and you guys continue to walk further into the garage. "Well, it was more of a demand. But either way, he wants you in that garage with him." Those were some of the last words exchanged between you and Carrie sans you thanking her and her telling you to have a good time before a familiar face turns towards you, the bored stone face he had quickly morphing to his contagious smile that you can't help but return.

   "Hey!" He approaches you with his arms out and hesitantly pulls you into a side hug, only truly doing so once you approach him with both arms out, wrapping them around his torso.

   "Hi, Max." You try hard to make your voice sound chipper, trying to camouflage the pain and stress from the past week.

   "Wait a minute, what happened to Maxie?" You hadn't let go of him yet, and he was completely fine with it. You were too busy finding comfort in the scent of his cologne in his polo, and he was too busy reveling in the feel of your body in his arm.

   "Sorry, Maxie. These past few weeks have been a doozy." You abruptly let go of him, to which he reacts quickly and does the same, allowing you to straighten out his shirt and ensure that none of your makeup had transferred.

   "Well, do you want to go talk about it?" Max had quickly missed your touch once you were done fixing him up, so, upon his proposition, he reached out to touch your elbow, dipping his head a little to look into your eyes.

   "No, no. I'll be fine. You're probably busy, anyway." You look towards the people Max was talking to the moment before you entered, their eyes urging Max back over.

   "They can wait. It's Thursday, we have all day." Max looks over to the people now, his face not visible from the angle you looked at him but you were able to see annoyance and slight fright in their eyes before they turn and go on to do some other pre-race weekend task.

   "Oh, okay." You don't know when Max got a grasp on your hand, but as quick as you answered you were being guided in the direction opposite of the open Red Bull garage leading to the pitlane. The short walk was wordless, but you could feel that Max's aura was…unwelcoming as you two walked by people that would have stopped him if they didn't feel like he would have bitten their head off. Max reaches a door that he quickly opens and shuts and then, almost as if he were two different people, his demeanor softens as he nervously grabs two chairs so you two could sit facing each other.

   "Sorry about that. People tend to bother me unless I look like I'm headed somewhere pissed off." He chuckles and waits for you to sit before sitting himself.

   "I see. That's okay. Trust me, I know that sometimes you just don't want to be bothered." After your affirming statement, you two sit quietly in Max's driver room, silently studying each other.

   "So, how have you been?" You speak up first, postponing explaining how the past couple of weeks have gone for you.

   "Fine. Been pretty happy with how the team has been performing and…what?" Max stops in the middle of his spiel when he sees a small twist in your facial expression, a slight crinkle producing between your eyebrows.

   "Oh, nothing. Sorry. Continue, please." You immediately brighten your face attempting to get Max to continue talking, but it doesn't work. Instead, a tired neutral expression settles on his face.

   "No, what's wrong?" You seem to instinctively cower under his intense gaze, having no choice but to answer.

   "Nothing, I just…no, nevermind. It's not important. Keep going." You force a smile onto your face, or at least a mild grin with widened eyes, anything to signal that you were ready to listen to whatever he had to say.

   "No, Yn. Don't do that. What's wrong?" Max leans forward from his previously reclined position, his complete focus on you. It was interesting seeing his face in that moment, eyes noticeably more wide open but still holding a soft, attentive gaze and his mouth clamped shut producing a straight line with his lips, adding the tone of seriousness to his expression.

   "It's just that, I want to hear how you've been doing. Not how driving is or how the team is doing, even though I know that's part of how you're doing. I just don't understand that stuff, yet." At this point you've looked away from Max, placing all of your visual attention on you nails, running your thumb along the white gel polish on your fingers. "I want to know how you have been doing. How have you slept? Have you done anything fun recently? Spent time with friends or family or something…"

   "Ah, that's fair. Um, well…" He looks away for a moment to gather his thoughts, recounting the previous 2 weeks that were honestly full of race preparation. He then looks back up at you, your head tilted, ponytail falling to the side, your complete attention on him as indicated by large, unblinking eyes. "Truthfully, I've just been preparing for races these past couple of weeks. After Miami we had a week off, but that week was spent getting ready for back to back races with Spain last week and Monaco this week." Your eyebrows scrunch together again, but this time Max knew exactly why. "But I think I got enough sleep and slept well enough. Just didn't have enough time for leisure."

   "Okay…" Your face didn't change much, except a slightly more exaggerated pout as you accepted his answer.

   "Now, your turn." Max laughs at how quick your face turns to shock when you realized your stalling time had run out. 

   "Oh, well you know, it's sad and kinda infuriating to talk about…" You weren't looking at Max's face as you spoke but you did once you paused and it was back to the wide eyed, neutral face expression that got you talking moments before, and it worked its magic again. "Okay, well, I guess I really haven't talked about it to anyone and I really need to because this has really been ruining my mood and I don't like being sad…long story short, me and my boyfriend broke up."

   If you could see into Max's chest, his heart would have been doing flips. He hated to see you sad but, boy, did he like hearing that you were single. "Oh." Max knew it was best for him to say as few words as possible, because if given the chance, he would've said everything that he wanted to when he first met you.

   "Yeah. It was time, honestly. I finally realized that I deserved to be treated so much better." Your words made Max's ears perk.

   "Wait, so did you break up with him, or…" his question trailed off since you nodded before he could finish.

    "Yeah." You shrugged and gave him a sad grin. "He was just so mean to me. All the time. He would treat me like a child." You laugh hollowly. "After my Miami Grand Prix vlog blew up, sorry for that, by the way. Not knowing who you are and the whole 'Maxie' thing-" 

   "Hold on." Max's stern words startled you to silence. "You don't need to apologize for either of those things. First of all, I didn't care about whether or not you knew who I was. I actually liked the fact you didn't know who I was. Second of all, I like 'Maxie', especially, well, really only when you call me 'Maxie', but we can't have everything." You finally crack a grin, which was greater than any race win or championship he has ever received. He really just needed you to smile, even though his true goal was to get feel the bright, playful aura that you exuded when you two first met, but he knew that would require time for you to heal from your breakup and time for you to become comfortable with him, and he had nothing but time.

   "Well, good. But even still, I was a bit embarrassed once the video went out and I found out who you were, but nothing too bad. It took me maybe a day and a half to get over the embarrassment and laugh with everyone. But, for some reason, my boyfriend wouldn't let it go. He was like 'How could you be so fucking stupid to not know that was Max Verstappen' and 'With how much I watch formula 1, you should have known who he was.'" You mock your ex's words, not seeing the grin that grows on Max's face, that is quickly replaced with shock when you abruptly continue talking. "How could I have known if he never gave me the time of day to teach me!! He would always just brush me off and  say that I 'wouldn't understand'..." Your fiery-ness dulled. "This was the last straw for me though. Who calls someone a dumb bitch because they didn't know who someone was."

   Max has never wanted to punch someone as bad as he did in that moment. He just couldn't understand how someone could be so mean to you. So degrading. You didn't deserve that. "He sounds like a cunt."

   "Woah, Maxie!" A laugh. Max finally got a laugh out of you after your downward spiral. "That's… a word."

   "Am I wrong? From the little bit you have told me about him, he sounds like a cunt." He shrugs and you grin, mildly, but amused.

   "He was an asshole.” Nothing could have contained the smile that Max had after a split second of shock from your claim.

   “Woah, there. Language.” The laughter that fills the driver’s room lifts the gloom that previously surrounded you two.

   “I know. I think I need to wash my mouth out with soap now." As the laughter dies down that sad grin that Max wanted to kiss away takes root on your face once more. "It kinda sucks though, cause a small piece of me still misses him. But I think it's more because he was there for a lot of big things that happened in my life, especially with my channel and everything. So that'll take some time to get over, but I will." 

   "Makes sense." And truly it did make sense to Max to miss someone you've been through a lot with. Besides, Max was selfishly glad that you had such a positive outlook on the situation because it only took him a split second to answer the question he had the moment you said you broke up with your boyfriend:

Was he really going to pursue you a week after your break up? 

Abso-fucking-lutely.

He then had to fill the silence that had fallen over you two, quickly realizing he was going through a similar situation, one that he only just thought to mention. "Actually, me and my girlfriend broke up…just over a month ago?" Max had to think. The event was so unemotional and uneventful that it slipped his mind.

   "Oh, I'm sorry. What happened?" Max saw the pity in your eyes and tried to remedy it with a gentle smile and a shrug.

   "Somewhere along the way our lives and plans didn't align anymore. It was the best for both of us." He added to a mental list another face of yours that he adored. It was contemplative, showing that you were really analyzing his situation.

   "Hmm, that's pretty cool. That you both were able to come to that decision, and able to do it without anyone getting hurt." You felt your phone vibrate and went to check the importance of the notification, along with the time. "Oh! I've held you up for half an hour!"

  Max slowly stands with you when you pop out of your seat at the realization. "That's fine, trust me. I'm not the biggest fan of Thursdays and all of the media stuff." 

   "That's fine for you, but this is my first race as a guest of Red Bull. I do not want to be known as 'the distraction'." You make sure you have everything before heading towards the door.

   "You'd be the best distraction Red Bull has ever had. They'd be lucky." Max uses the advantage of his longer legs to beat you to the door, opening it for you.

   "Well, let's not wait and find out." You both exit the driver room and make your way to the motorhome, finding Carrie sitting at a table doing some work on her phone. 

   You had already gone off toward the counter saying something about getting coffee leaving Max to talk to Carrie. "Hey, could you just make sure she's comfortable until I'm done?" Carrie looks up at Max through her eyelashes, eyebrows raised. "What?" The smile Max had was mischievous as he knew that Carrie could see through the motive of his award winning hospitality.

   "Yeah, I'll make sure she's comfortable. That's my job isn't it?" She chuckles softly and looks back down at what she was doing on her phone, unable to contain a grin of amusement from watching the driver fall head over heel for the oblivious content creator.

   "This is good coffee." You take a sip from the cup in your hand, smiling and greeting the woman you met earlier in the day. "Hey, wait. You're supposed to be off doing things."

   "I know I just had to talk to Carrie about something." Max's eyes scan down your face, starting at your bright brown eyes traveling down your nose to your lips, which he now noticed were glossed and shiny, but as they reached your cup he could see that some of the gloss has transferred.

   "Well looks like you’re done, so go.” You attempt to shoo him away but he doesn’t move, just grins at you for a moment before reaching his hand out.

   “Let me see your phone.” You squint suspiciously and pout at him but still follow directions, reaching into your bag, grabbing your phone, unlocking it and handing it to him. He taps some things into the phone then hands it back to you.

   “I’ll text you when I’m done. Please don’t leave before that, okay?” His face quickly turned neutral, eyes widening in request for an answer. 

   “Okay, I’ll try.” You crumble under his intense gaze, but still stand firm to flick your head toward the door, to which he finally leaves through after one last amused grin. You plop down in the chair on the opposite side of the table and set your coffee down on the table, all while looking at your phone. It was nothing special, just a text to his own phone that said “Yn’s number”, but it was the fact that he made his own contact name “Maxie”, the look he gave you before leaving, the fact that he urged you to stay and wait for him, it caused a flutter in your chest.

   “We’ve been calling him Maxie around here for the past week. He pretends he doesn’t like it, but we all know he does.” Carrie’s voice breaks through your thoughts and you look up at her, processing the words she just said before grinning shyly, shrugging then looking back down at your phone.

   "He's definitely more of a Maxie." You stare at his contact for one more moment before starting something else on your phone.

   Unfortunately, meetings for Max ran late, made worse due to postponement from his tardiness, so you had to head back to your hotel without seeing him for the rest of Thursday. Friday through Sunday, on the other hand, he did as much as he could to have his eye on you, much to your oblivion. He was not going to go another moment without you in his life.

________________

redbullracing

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 180,036 others

redbullracing A new friend came to hang out with us 😍

View all 423 comments

user5 HOW IS SHE SO PRETTY!?!?!

>redbullracing She said it was a secret 🤫

maxverstappen1 Was so glad to see you again, Yn!

>babygurlyn Was happy to see you again to Maxie! Glad we got to talk 😚

>user7 Talk about what? TALK ABOUT WHAT?

>landonorris Glad I got to meet the woman, the myth, the legend as well 😉

>babygurlyn It was lovely meeting you as well 💖

user6 Max you better come get your admin

>maxverstappen1 I'll keep an eye on them 😐

>redbullracing Hey, Max, hey 👋

redbullracing

Liked by danielricciardo and 167,472 others

realdbullracing Watch out for a video with these two besties #AustrianGP

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user8 I wish my job was trying to set me up with the love of my life 😕

danielricciardo I had the pleasure of watching them film this video, you guys are in for a treat 😁

>maxverstappen1 When were you ever there?

>danielricciardo Exactly 🥷🏼

user9 That's was literally my fav fit from her clothing haul. Absolutely stunning 🥰

babygurlyn I had a great time, but I'll say this right now, you don't want Max Verstappen to teach you how to drive

>maxverstappen1 I was nice

>babygurlyn 🫥

   “Say ‘Hi.’ to the camera, Maxie.” You practically bounce into the studio where Red Bull was filming the Youtube video prior to the Austrian Grand Prix. You couldn't tell that the brightness of Max's face increased ten-fold because you were used to his smile and enthusiasm, but the crew setting up, and surely your viewers once you post this video, can see it, hiding their amusement behind the work they were doing.

   "Oh, hello." He waves to the camera and then smiles his "Hello" to you, one that you respond to with a bright, exaggerated, playful smile.

   "Alright, you guys. I'll talk to you later 'cause this is hush hush. Okay? Byeeee!" You cover the lens and stop the recording, then reach your arm out to give him a side hug. The hug lingers a bit, allowing Max to truly become intoxicated by the vanilla hint in your perfume. "Hi! So, who do I thank for this invitation?"

   "Red Bull. And EA Sports, I guess. This video was a bit of a surprise to me too. I didn’t know they would bring you in, I think they like our dynamic.” Max has to take a step back from you once the hug breaks as precaution, he knew if he stayed too close he would reach out to touch you again. Instead he crosses his arms.

   “Good. I like hanging out with you.” You tilt your head and flash that innocent smile at Max.

   “I-uh-like your outfit. It’s from your new video, isn’t it?” Max pulled that information from the back of his mind, remembering how much he loved you in each outfit tried on in your latest haul, which was the last video he watched after binge watching multiple videos on your channel.

   “You’ve been watching my videos!?” If Max knew this was the face he would’ve gotten after mentioning your content, widened eyes and a smile so wide that your dimples are accentuated due to the rise in your cheekbones, it would’ve been the first thing he said the moment you walked through that door. Heck, he would’ve facetimed you the moment he clicked on the first video.

   “Of course. You come to my races, I watch your videos.” Max had to play it cool. He shrugs out his words, trying to make it seem as much of a normal common courtesy as possible.

   “Well now I gotta make sure I come to all of your races.” You poke Max’s chest, still grinning up at him.

   “I’ll make sure, trust me.” You can feel a shift in the air, the tone of Max’s words playful yet serious, his eyes and the neutral set of his face accentuating the seriousness.

   “You better.” You dramatically flip your ponytail then look at the driving rig set up at the other side of the room. "So, we're using that today?"

   "You're using that today. I'm just instructing." Max smiles at the concern and confusion that morphs onto your face. "Didn't they tell you what they video was?"

   "No. I didn't ask. They told me I was going to be doing a video with you and I just agreed." There goes that, borderline clinically concerning, squeezing of his chest at the mere knowledge that you trusted him enough to just agree to do something with him, no questions asked. Still, he had to use this as a lesson for you.

   "I'm flattered, but from now on, don't agree to anything without asking questions, please?" He gives you that stern raised eyebrow look that threateningly persuades you into answering.

   "Okay, sorry." You try to maintain eye contact but your instincts get the better of you, making you look hesitantly down and away from Max.

   "That's okay, no need for sorry." His smile was back on his face, trying to fix the mood in the air that he could feel changed much more than intended. He was instantly relieved when he saw the reciprocated smile you gave back. "Uh, the video. You will be driving two laps around the Austria track on the game while I direct you on how to do it."

   "Oh, joy." You weren't looking at Max when you answered, instead you were nervous smiling at the set up.

   "What? it won't be that bad. I'm a great teacher." Max crosses his arms and watches skepticism flash across your face.

   "You probably are, but you also seem kinda stern, so that scares me. I also don't know how to drive, so…" You shrug and grin pitifully up at Max.

   "Wait, you don't have your license or anything?" You couldn't help but laugh at the concerned face Max gave you after your admittance, shaking your head to wordlessly answer the question. "Why? How do you get around?" Max was truly concerned. He didn't like the idea of you taking Ubers or anything else with a virtual stranger. If it was up to him, as long as you didn't have a license he would be driving you everywhere. But it's not up to him.

   "Uber, friends, things like that. I literally created a "Ride Money" account instead of just learning how to drive." Max's face doesn't change. "Driving is scary." 

   "No, it's not." You scrunch your eyebrows and pout at his quick matter-of-fact answer.

   "Easy for you to say." You grumble, perking up a bit when a person who seemed to move around like they were in charge of this whole ordeal enters the room.

   "You know what? If all goes well here I think I should teach you how to drive." Max doesn't care about who enters the room, he keeps his eyes on you, watching as your face gives away how much you are trying to listen to the conversation across the room.

   "At your own risk. I'm telling you, the moment I get behind that wheel, my head gets all full and I can't think straight. It's terrible." Your focus was still on the people behind the camera, their attention now on you and Max.

   "I'm sure you'll do fine here and behind the wheel of an actual car. You seem like you pick things up quickly." This compliment tears your attention away from the people and finally brings it back to him.

   "Oh. Well thank you, Maxie." You pause for a beat. " I guess we'll see." Right after you spoke, almost as if it was planned, the person who seemed to be some sort of director for the video approached you two to explain how the video will work. You were listening diligently, nodding intermittently at the words being spoken, but Max, on the other hand, could only focus on you, and while a million things were moving through his head, one problem seemed to stand out: you and your lack of a license. He didn't want you to have to rely on Uber or other people. He wanted to be the one you relied on.

   He wanted to make sure you were getting places safely, even if it was just a short stint of knowing.

   Maybe you could come stay with him over the summer break.

   The bass of the dance music blasting through the speaker of the Ibiza club had you moving and jumping in time with it. That and the 2 vodka cranberries and a Screwdriver that you've had so far. You were on stage in a VIP section behind the DJ, Martin Garrix, a name you know you've heard before who apparently are basically best friends with Max and Lando. Max watched you from the couch, nursing a single beer and keeping an eye on you. He had made a silent rule, known to others in VIP by a simple stern look whenever someone got too close to you, that no one was allowed to dance with you except for Lando, since he had a clear idea of how much Max was intrigued and infatuated by you. When a transition between songs began Max could see you trying to say something to Lando while pointing over at him before jogging, your feet moving in a shuffling manner, toward him.

   "Maxie, come dance!" You grabbed his hands and tried to use all of your own strength to pull him up, almost falling backwards, but Max uses the grip he already has on your hands to pull you back to him, falling into his chest and him basically clamping you there.

   "Maybe flat sandals next time will keep that from happening." You were listening, but your body told you to keep dancing to the music. As the beat crescendoed, preliminary to a bass drop, you twisted with Max, dancing like you're at a middle school dance, still hand in hand.

   "It's not the shoes, I wear these all the time! And the heel is only, like, 3 inches. That was because of the vodka!" You burst out laughing and begin jumping when the beat drops in the song currently playing. 

   "Fine. Just be careful." He gave you a concerned smile, and in response you reached up and briefly squeezed his cheeks.

   "Okaayy! Stop worrying!" You get very touchy feely when you're drunk, you knew it, so while it was a surprise to Max, it was no surprise to you that you started to mess with Max's hair, combing your fingers through the blonde strands. You guys continue dancing, but rather than it being playful like before, there was a lustful longing that moved between you two. It started with the eye contact, the natural squint in his eyes and your eyelids drooping due to you intoxication. Then it was hand placement. Max had rested his hands on your hips and you had wrapped your arms around his neck, bodies pressed against each other. You two were moving to the music, somewhat slowly, but still on beat. This lasted for nearly and entire song but there was a brief moment where you looked away to check the drinks in the table,  noticing that 2 of the juice mixers were gone. You break away and head over, Max following behind immediately. Lando was sitting on the couch, one leg resting on the other, that was until you made it over and picked up the 2 empty bottles, preparing to have to go over to the bar to get more. "They're empty." You pout looking back and forth between the two bottles in your hand.

   "That's what happens when you just drink the juice. We can just ask someone to get some more." Just as Max was lifting his hand to call someone over, you rebuttal.

   "No, I'll go get some. The bar is right over there." You weren't wrong. The bar was just approximately 20 feet off the stage, up against the side wall of the club.

    "I'll come with you." Max offers but you wave him off, grinning widely at him.

    "I got this. I'm a big girl." And without giving him time to protest, you were practically bouncing away and down the stage steps, security posted there blocking the people on the dance floor from you. Max just heads back to the couch, plopping down and keeping an eye on you as you smile and say something to the bartender before handing them the bottles.

   "You're right. She is very oblivious to what you're doing." Lando tells his friend, shouting over the music.

   "So I am obvious?" He turns abruptly, desperate to know how someone outside of you and him saw your interaction.

   "Very." Lando takes a sip of the brown liquid he had in his glass.

   "So why does it seem like she doesn't know?" Max sets his beer down and runs his hands through his hair, which only annoys him more because he now knows what it feels like to have your hands in his hair. A feeling that will forever linger in his mind like everything else you do.

   "Because she probably doesn't. It's Yn we're talking about. You're gonna have to be blunt." Lando downs the rest of what was in his glass and sets it down. Max was going to respond but instinctively his gaze moved over to where you stood by the bar, now accompanied by a man who was very obviously making you uncomfortable.

   "What the fuck?" Was the last thing muttered by Max before he got up and bee lined to the bar.

   Over at the bar a completely different, and unwanted, conversation was going on. This guy, accent indiscernible but still there, partially undone white button down, messed up dark hair and somewhat grown out 5 o'clock shadow, has made himself at home leaning against the bar right next to you.

   "Now what is a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?" He keeps his hands to himself for the time being, one keeping him upright on the bar and the other perched on his hip.

   "Well, I'm not alone i-" You were starting to answer, but the man began interrupting the moment the first word fell from your mouth.

   "I wouldn't let you out of my sight looking like that if you were mine." He began to reach out to pull you closer by your hip, but you smacked his hand away.

   "Well, I'm not yours and I never said-" You were interrupted again.

   "Come on baby. I'll make tonight something you won't forget." Again, that clammy hand reached out for you and you smacked it away again, taking a step backwards and stumbling a bit into a person behind you.

   "Sorry." You say to the person, who seemed to be looking at something in the direction of the perv in front of you that you couldn't quite see so just ignore it. "Listen. Ion want you to touch me, Ion want to go anywhere with you an' 'm not here alone."

   "So who are you here with, 'cause I don't see him around." The guy exaggeratedly looks around the vicinity like he's looking out at sea then turns back to you mockingly.

   "She's with me, asshole." You don't know when Max showed up, standing extremely close to your side, but it soon clicked that the person you bumped into was watching Max storm over your way.

   "Dude, you're Max Verstappen." The guy has his mouth wide open in shock, eyes full of pure joy from seeing the driver, as if he wasn't harassing you just moments before.

   "And you were fucking with my girlfriend." The words just slipped out before he could stop them, but in the meantime that was second in his mind to the situation at hand.

   "Hey, if I knew she was your girl, I would've-" The guy started to take a few steps back but was yanked closer again by Max grabbing his shirt.

   "You shouldn't be doing this shit to any woman." Max's hand started twitching, he wanted to punch the asshole so bad, but a small nudge with your elbow parted those dark clouds for him and made him look at you, hand still holding the guy by his shirt. You lift up the glass bottles of orange juice and cranberry juice.

   "I have the juices. Let's head back. He's not worth it, anyway." You were holding eye contact with Max, but a quick flash of your eyes to his hand clued him into the fact that his hand was in a fist that he quickly releases along with the guy. He then turns to take the bottles from you, occupying his hands.

   "Let's go." He lets you walk ahead of him, watching you walk past before following you, scowling at the guy as he passes. "Stop being a dick." We the last words he muttered to him before fully following you to the on-stage VIP section.

   "Are you okay?" Max finally asks after setting down the bottles and placing his hands on your shoulders.

   "Maxie, I'm fine." You play with the bottom hem of his shirt grinning innocently up at him.

   "Okay, okay." Neither of you move for a moment, just looking into each other's eyes before your brain bounces back to the previous encounter.

   "I held my own down there, didn't I?" Your smile brightens as you talk about how proud you were of yourself, and Max gave you an almost equal smile in return.

   "Yes, you did. I'm proud." Max's tone was playful to match yours, but he truly was surprised at how you had handled yourself, not letting the man persuade you.

   "Yay! Now, let's finish out this night with a bang!" You let go of Max's shirt and skip over to the table and take one of the stacked small plastic cups and pour a small shot of straight Belvedere vodka, smiling mischievously at Max after you do. You were going to drive him crazy.

_______

   "Noooo. Don't go. Help me get ready for bed." You hold on to Max's hand trying to pull him into your hotel room after finally getting back from the club. Max had unlocked it, since he kept your key for you, and was just holding the door open waiting for you to walk in.

   "You don't need me to help. You'll be fine. Remember, you're a big girl." He reiterated your claim from earlier in the night, removing his hand from the door and replacing it with his back so he could push back your locs that were all askew from your bouncy movements.

   "I lied. I'm a baby that needs help getting in her pajamas." You were pouting now, swinging Max's arm back and forth. He had to take a moment to admire your face, soft, innocent. You were the definition of loveliness.

   "Fine. In." You cheer and skip inside. "But I am not going to help you into your pajamas."

   After entering your room he helped you with the basics of getting ready to go to bed, like helping you out of your shoes, finding a makeup wipe to at least get some of what you were wearing off and getting out an oversized T-shirt and what seemed like pajama shorts while you brushed your teeth, which was after he spent 3 minutes coaxing you to do so.

   "Don't you want the shorts?" Max held them out to you while you climbed into bed with only the oversized shirt over your undergarments.

   "No, it's too hot for that." You cuddle under the heavy hotel bed blanket then flutter your eyelashes at Max. "You gotta kiss me goodnight, boyfriend." You waggle your eyebrows after making Max for his words from earlier. The words he hoped and prayed you didn't pay attention to.

   "I thought you didn't hear that." He walks over slowly to the head of your bed, smiling nervously.

   "Oh I did. I thought it was funny that was what you went with, but it did the trick." You giggle and poke his side, the physical representation of you metaphorically bursting his balloon. You thought what he said was just an act. Of course.

   "Yeah, well…" He shrugged and stood there, contemplating whether or not he was going to tell you. Right now didn't feel like the right time, and his hesitation made it worse. No, not now, but soon.

   "Come on, sir. Still waiting for my kiss." You were pointing toward your forehead, right in between your eyebrows, to which Max sighs but obliges to, giving you a short peck in the forehead. You don't let him go though. Next you point to your nose and again you receive a short peck. Then you finally point to your now exaggeratedly puckered lips.

   "I'm not kissing your lips." This can't be the moment he first kissed you. It was supposed to be much more grand than this. That's what you deserved, but you insisted.

   “Come on, I’m not asking you to make out with me. Just a small peck.” You pucker your lips again and after a small moment of hesitation, Max bends down to kiss you, gently placing his lips on yours. It happened in slow motion and felt like it lasted eternity, or at least you both wish it lasted eternity. The small kiss made both of your heads swirl, but unfortunately for Max, you just blamed it on your intoxication. When he pulled back you were looking at him with a soft, sweet look, an equally sweet grin on your lips, enticing him for more, but instead he straightened up, still keeping his gaze down on you. “Goodnight, Maxie.”

   “Goodnight, Yn.” Max smiles at you one last time then heads toward the door of your room, turning off the light and then finally exiting. He was going to tell you. He had to tell you. Soon.

babygurlyn

Liked by maxverstappen1 and 118,307 others

babygurlyn Summer Summer Summer Time,☀️

tagged maxverstappen1, landonorris and martingarrix

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user10 So glad I'm part of this multiverse timeline 🥲

user11 I'm gonna need to know who took the first pic. It's for research.

>maxverstappen1 🖐🏻

>user11 THE ANSWER THE WORLD WANTED

maxverstappen1 Glad you were able to come along on the summer break

>babygurlyn Glad I was invited 🥰 (not glad you took a Zoom meeting in the middle of our boat day🥺)

>user13 Say sorry, Max 🫵🏽

>maxverstappen1 Sorry 😔

landonorris I call doing Yn's make-up the next video, I know I can do better

>maxverstappen1 not if your life depended on it

>user14 Coming next summer: Who can be a better mua for Yn

_____________

   You strain to reach a large bowl on a high shelf in a cabinet of Max’s kitchen, the last piece needed for everything to be ready for making the chocolate chip cookies you convinced Max were necessary for you to have the best Christmas visit. As you reach, a fingertip away, you hear Max clear his throat, startling you. “Hi. I almost had it.”

   Max slowly walks over your way and easily reaches up to take the bowl you were reaching for down, then turns to you with his arms crossed. “Ask for help.”

   “I almost had it, jeez.” You take the bowl and place it near the ingredients that you rounded up for the cookies. The attitude you responded to him with had Max stunned. All he did was help you…

   “Hey, what’s wrong?” Max follows you. Watching as you slowly grew more frustrated, going over the items on the counter over and over again and not retaining any of the information you were taking in.

   “Nothing.” You grumble, still just looking at the items on the counter.

   “Yn…” Max wanted to reach out and touch you so badly, pull you into him and kiss away whatever negative feeling was consuming you, but instead he places his hand on the counter and stoops his head down to get a glimpse of your face.

   “You act like I can’t do anything for myself,” You snap, turning to look at him, his face scrunched in confusion. He could tell you were going to continue, so he stayed silent. “And you say you think I’m so smart and strong and independent and you like that stuff about me but you're always there doing things for me and I don’t know why! Are you lying? Just saying that stuff to not hurt my feelings cause you actually think I can’t take care of myself?”

   “I know you can. That’s why I do it. You can and you’ve had to for too long.” Your face doesn’t change, still angry but slightly confused at what Max was trying to say. Now it was time for Max to be unhinged. “I don’t think you understand. It’s instinct, what I do for you. I can’t just sit back and watch you struggle. I don’t want you to ever have to struggle, even with the smallest of things.” 

   “Why?” That one word was Max’s last straw. Nothing could keep him from telling you how he really felt.

   “I’m in love with you. I was just going to say that I like you a lot, but I would be lying and I would never lie to you. I love you, Yn.” It was almost instantaneous how quick the anger dissipated from your face.

   “Oh, Maxie, I-” Max hated to have to interrupt you, but he had to finish what he was saying. Everything he had been holding in for months.

   “Wait, please.” You nod and Max takes a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t know when I fell in love with you, but I knew the moment you ran into me that I couldn’t live without you. You were it for me. So that is why I treat you the way I do. Not because I don’t think you can do anything, but because I think you are too precious to lift a finger.” You two just look at each other, waiting for the other to say something. “That’s the best way I can put it.”

   “Maxie,” He raises eyebrows at you, worried about what your next words will be. You lift one finger. “First, never cut me off again.” Max cracks a smile at how serious you got, but agrees and waits for your next point. You lift up a second finger. “Second, why aren’t your lips on mine?”

   If people thought he was fast on track, that couldn’t even compare to how quick Max pulled you into a breathtaking kiss, hands starting on your shoulders and slowly sliding up to the sides of your face. You just wrapped your arms around his torso, finally relaxing in the arms of the man you couldn’t stop thinking about. Max felt as though he was finally alive, kissing you. Like he was merely existing before and you were the singular breath of oxygen that he needed to truly be alive. He started to walk you backwards out of the kitchen, kissing you deeper and deeper, over and over again. 

   “Wait, the cookies…” You weren’t sure if you were really concerned about the cookies, because you truthfully just wanted more of Max, but still you moaned out the words. 

   “Fuck the cookies.” Max says against your lips before turning you around and playfully chasing you to his room.

maxverstappen1

Liked by babygurlyn and 238,579 others

maxverstappen1 It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year ☃️

tagged babygurlyn

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babygurlyn You used the caption I suggested 🥹

>maxverstappen1 It's a fairly common Christmas song

>babygurlyn Let me have this win, please 🥺

>maxverstappen1 Of course, I apologize

user15 Is it just me or does this give soft launch 🧐

>user16 No, no you're on to something

landonorris Why wasn't I invited?

>danielricciardo ?

>redbullracing ??

>maxverstappen1 Why can't I just have peace and quiet 🤦🏼‍♂️

_________

Max quickly made it a habit to have frequent check-ins with you during sex. He knew how rough he could get if he wasn't cognizant of his partner's feelings or needs and the last thing he ever wanted was for you to get hurt because he forgot himself.

   "Fuck, you have no idea how much I adore your fucking pussy. Always fits me so nicely." Max was on his knees between your legs, one hand grasping your left hip, stabilizing your lower half that was already propped up by a pillow, and the other hand clamping both arms up above your head. 

   "Fuck, Max, this feels so good." You groan, then wince at a smack that you receive on your left ass cheek, soon smiling after because you knew it was coming.

   "You did that on purpose, you little slut." You were able to manage a laugh in the midst of a moan as Max thrusted sharply into you, completely changing his rhythm to something slower but harsher. He looks away from your face for a moment, turning his attention to his dick moving in and out of you, your slick gathering more and more around him with every hitch of his hips. His attention then goes to your clit, needy and swollen and begging to be touched, and he does, using the juices coming from you to make it easier to rub languid circles on the nub. You let out whine, borderline sob, from the new sensation and Max immediately looked back up at your face, needing to see what pretty look had settled on it now. Instead of one look he was greeted with a series of them. First a partial lip bite, just the inside portion of your lip, as you looked down to watch for yourself, not knowing which sight you loved more, watching his hips thrust into your propped up pussy, or Max's long slender fingers rubbing circles on your clit. This led to look number two, which was you releasing your lips and looking up at Max, mouth agape, breathy moans and whines flowing unrestricted. This was Max's favorite look, your innocent eyes on him, flashes of lust and love presenting themselves as he fucks you so sinfully. Which is why Max abandoned his hold on your wrists to correct your last look, which was more lacking thereof since you turned your head to the side in an attempt to bury your head in your shoulder. With his newly unoccupied hand, Max grasps your face to make you look at him.

   "Don't hide your face, love. You look fucking beautiful being fucked by my cock." When you finally look at him he can see a new glossiness in your eyes.

   "Mmm Maxie…" Your voice had gone up an octave, another indication that something unfamiliar was happening.

   "Yes, love? You okay?" Max stops moving his hips but keeps a slow soothing pace on your clit as he waits for you to respond.

   "Mhm. My head feels fuzzy. Can't think." This made Max release your face and stop the movement on your clit completely.

   "Oh, are you alright? Do you want me to stop?" Of course his first reaction is one of true concern. As stated before, the last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

   "Nooo…" Your response was whiny and accompanied with a pitiful pout that made unspeakable thoughts run through Max's head.

   "Okay, okay." He starts to caress your clit again, a sensation you seem to enjoy given the small mewls that vibrate from your throat, as he assesses the moment. His first decision was to change positions, something simpler that allowed him a bit better control of your body, which he realized became somewhat floppy, like a rag doll once your mind traveled to this unknown state. He slowly removes himself from you and momentarily stops rubbing, both losses of sensations evoking a slightly bratty whine that is absolutely adorable to him. "Give me just a moment and I'll stuff my pretty girl full again, okay?" 

   "Okay." You nod, face blank and waiting for your next instruction.

   "Fucking hell," Max said this under his breath, eyes scanning your entire body before bring his mind back to his previous task. "Move down to the end of the bed for me, love." You do so, eagerly bouncing down to the foot of the bed with an mostly innocent grin. Max definitely saw a flash of animalistic desire in your cute face. While you did that, he got fully off the bed and stood at the foot of the bed thanking his lucky stars that the height of it perfectly aligned you with his hips.

   "Maxie!" You whined and eagerly wiggled your hips, which was all the confirmation he needed for him to enter you again. He still pushed in slowly, you were already tight around him before, and now with you in what seems like a considerably sensitive mental state, he didn't want to take any chance being too rough.

   "Fuck, my pretty girl feels so good around me." He stilled himself in you as he brought your legs up to wrap lazily around his hips. You, nonverbally begging for some movement, began to buck your hips while Max tried to situate himself.

   "Yn, I'm gonna need you to be a good girl and stop moving for a second." His voice had a bit of sternness to it that made you stop immediately, but also caused your eyebrows to furrow in worry. "No, baby, I'm sorry. I just need a moment, okay." He waits for you to nod and the does a few more adjustments, pulling your hips closer, deciding that your right leg was the best to hold up against his hip, and moving some of your locs that got into your face during the position change before finally settling that left hand by your head and hitching his hips back so he could start his pace again. It started slow, he was still getting used to the position and angle change, but soon his previous pace was back with a vengeance. His partially bent over angle caused the top of his pelvis to graze your clit, a sensation that was amplified due to the general excessive sensitivity of the nub along with the vulnerable state of your mind. This happened with every sensation for you, it was all overwhelming, all felt too good, and instinctively you covered your face with open palms so Max couldn't see how uninhibited your facial expressions get when you were in a pure state of lust. Max wasn't having it though.

   "What did I say before, love? Don't hide your face. You make such pretty faces when I fuck you." He took his hand that rested on the bed and grasped one of your hands away from your face. "Rub your clit with the other hand for me, baby." You immediately follow directions, reaching down and rubbing quick circles on the nub, chasing a climax you could feel coming. "Slower, love. Slower." You slow down the speed of your fingers but start to buck your hips in an attempt to meet Max's thrusts, which he allows. He just loves seeing his pretty little girl get off on his cock.

   "I wanna cum, Maxie. Help." It had only been a moment since he told you to slow your hand and you were back at the fast pace that indicated you were fast approaching your orgasm.

   "Okay, baby. I'll help you. Move your hand." You remove your hand from your clit to allow Max to replace it with his own, which also meant he had to let go of your other hand. "Play with your tits for me, love. Just don't cover that pretty little fucked out face of yours." You bring your hands to your chest, squeezing and rolling your nipple between two fingers, causing a sensation that definitely helped toward your ultimate goal of cumming. Max had to keep tabs on himself as well, feeling his own self coming close to his end with each squeeze he received from your clenching pussy.

   " 'm cumming!" This exclamation was followed by a long sobbing whine and your pussy spastically clenched around Max's dick, which removed quick yet carefully from you, still continuing to stroke himself and rub your clit, gently now to help bring you down. He leaned over to give you a sloppy, unfocused kiss as he chased his own climax he was achieving with his hand. As he got closer he removed his hand from your clit and placed it next to your torso, bracing himself as he finally reached his orgasm, his forehead pressed against yours as strings of cum landed on your stomach.

   Max had to take a moment to catch his breath before thinking of what to do next. After a few seconds, he looked up at your face. Your eyes were closed but he could tell you were still awake and coming down from your orgasm from the quiet whines that vibrated through your chest. He then regains enough balance to head to the bathroom and grab a warm damp towel that he first presses against your sensitive pussy, pressing kisses on your forehead as he does so, then uses it to wipe the cum off of your stomach. He was about to go and take it to the laundry room, but you gently grabbed his unoccupied hand, stopping him in his tracks. You say no words, just open up your arms, inviting him in for a cuddle and he does not hesitate to toss the used rag into the empty hamper and fall back into bed with you, first helping you back up to the head of the bed before pulling you into a bear hug. It was almost surprising to Max how quick you fell asleep once he pulled you into his arms, but it sure was the most lovely sight he has ever seen. He loved watching you sleep, being able to see the peace settle over your face. From here, he could done what he usually does in this position, recount the good the bad and the ugly of how he got to this moment with you, especially with you two making your relationship public just a couple weeks prior, but instead, for the first time ever, he just dozes off to sleep, trying to figure out what to do for breakfast.

#black reader #formula 1 #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #request #f1 x black!reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 scenario #max verstappen smut #f1 smau #max Verstappen scenario #FINALLY FREAKING DONE 🥳 #Spotify

[gunsatthaphan]

“I love you.”

#gap series #gap the series #freenbecky #sam x mon #gap series ep11 #mon x sam #freen sarocha #becky armstrong #thai gl #gl drama #😩 #this episode was so dramatic #also im not taking gap requests today #im swamped in things i have to get done lmao #sorry #i will open them again for the finale next week!

[dailynakaharachuuya]

chuuya in a maid outfit please *meows*

Nothing but a single can of peas for dinner.

#ask #request #rushdasstuff #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #skk #soukoku #bungo stray dogs #(Now that inktobers done I can finally get back to doing requestsssss)

[onehundredfallenpetals]

maaaybe a clerith doodle for ship requests? i'd love to see them in your style. or if not, how about some royalty or fantasy au shuake~?

Clerith!!! My beloveds, I'm excited for the new game

#final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 remake #final fantasy vii remake #clerith #ff7r #ffvii remake #cloud strife #aerith gainsborough #cloud x aerith #aerith x cloud #first of my requests done!! sorry they're so slow however I am working on rayems next #I just have to remember how to draw poses again I can't find a good ref atm

[peacockrulz]

doll x n maybe? their dynamic is sort of fun

Its life or death, you're in my world

and its life or death to be my girl

[requests are still open!]

#you get extra points for naming the one fucking rare pair that would get me to spend ALL NIGHT ON THIS /pos #I have OTHER REQUESTS ANON!! #no but serious thanks for the request sdkfjsdkfj #The song is Final Girl (feat. Slayyter) btw #its a bit explicit(?) but its a bit of the vibe for this piece lol not really character fitting just for the vibe #also I'm sorry if you wanted something like. actually ship-related #I would've done an extra doodle but I literally spent all night on this. iits 6am again #anyway thanks!! :3 #Murder drones #serial designation n #murder drones Doll #N x Doll #noll #< i like that shipname actually. sounds like 'null'

[lumiidragon]

All Invader Zim requests that I've been doing over the past, what week now?

Anyways, thanks to everyone who sent me some super fun requests! Sorry to anyone who didn't get a chance to get theirs in, but there's always next time~!

All OCs belong to their respective owners!

@invaderqueen

@octaviadj

LuniticLilly13 on DeviantART

@kay-the-scientist

@gooeygummi

@miniimoose

#invader zim #zim #dib #zim 2169 #sizz lorr #zim 2 #lard nar #irken #vortian #oc #requests #//flops over// #//finally done//

[ikkosu]

REWIND / CHROMEDOME

(adopting gn!human reader)

a/n : been wanting a cute fluffy request I hope I wrote them uh satisfactorily 😭😭 I actually enjoyed writing about baby and cdrw maybe I’ll write more scenarios with this little family ughhh so cute

"Alright folks, we're leaving in thirty minutes!" Rodimus's voice echoed through the speaker.

"It's either you get on or get off the ship forever— Er, ah...oh what's that? We're not allowed to leave when— Damn it. Apologies, there's been a restatement by Ultra Magnus declaring it's illegal, you guessed it, for whatever reasons I'm not bothered enough to care. Blah, blah blah. Oh, shut it drift. Anyways, latecomers are welcomed in the brig. Buckle up in thirty! Rodimus out."

Rewind swivelled his gaze from the rock nestled on the grass, then to the ship, hovering not too far from where he's crouching. "Huh, guess I'm taking a detour." Then, his camera skims over the verdant fields of rolling hills. Red lights, blinking. "Won't hurt, would it?"

The LL had a short break stopping on Earth, mostly for refuelling, fresh air, stretching limbs,,,totally not because Brainstorm blew up the left wing again and The Science Team had to patch things up discreetly

Seriously, where is HR when you need it?

And, obviously, the Archivist is not missing the opportunity to explore, of course. It's earth! Home to,,,well,,,,the most complex (derogatory) kinds in the cosmos. And, this rock he's been examining? It's an extraterrestrial mineral. Figments of rocks from asteroids, comets, and the like originating outside of the Earth. Crazy, huh.

Better keep that for safekeeping.

Aside from, ah, well wandering where he's able to film stuff, occasionally animals and cows of the like, it's more like a need, at the moment, for a bit of (lets put this gently) space away from his conjunx — since, he's been acting like an ass of late.

Ahem, going behind his, ahem back to doing ahem Mnemosurgery....again.

It's not even an 'again' anymore, it's just borderline often

Why does he even bother to listen? You can't break old habits, as Ratchet would say. They'd break themselves before they could ever stop.

"So that's it? You're just going to ignore me like that?" Footsteps pattered behind him

Rewind huffs, walking faster. "Took you long enough to figure it out, genius."

He groans. "Oh for— Primus sake, Rewind, come on. Don't do this. We can talk."

"Oh sure, sure! Talk." He threw his hands up, whirling around to face his conjux. "That's what you always say, promising me like you're going to get your eyes gorged out if you didn't. What else, tell Red Alert to stop being paranoid and Whirl, a psychopathic ass?"

Chromedome palms his face. Primus, this apology isn't going well as he expected it to. "Look, I messed up. I breached a trust you had in me. I shouldn't have done it. That was very... inconsiderate....of me..."

"What is this, eight grade? Spelling bee on who's responsible?"

"That's not the point! You can't just—"

And, so it begins. The bickering. The blaming. Hand pointing. Arguments ablaze, never listening. Voice raising — just the tip of the iceberg, not even close to it's full potential.

"I bet my words doesn't mean anything to you now, does it?"

"It's does, Rewind. It does!"

"Hey! Stay there! Don't even come any closer or I swear to Primus I'll—"

A cry gurgled out amidst the bushes.

The Mnemosurgeon stiffens. He looking around for the source of the cry when he notices conjux was staring at him. "What?"

"Wow. Wow. Low blow, Chrome dome." Rewind puffs and presses his fists on his hips. " Low blow. I didn't think you'd do this. You're gonna resort to mocking me, now?"

He sputters. " You think that was me?"

"Yeah, blame it on the cows. Blame it on 'em like you do when avoid all responsibility."

"What's even a cow? Oh, for—" Then suddenly he lets out a surprised sound, dropping to crouch next to a bush. Rewind doesn't bother to look. Why would he? He's busy sulking and he wants that Mnemo-no-to-the-o to see it. Though, his audials tuned into a rustle of leaves when—

"There! Primus, Rewind look at this."

Said Archivist was still sulking, arms crossed, looking away. "Nuh, uh."

"Don't you nuh uh me." CD chuffs and figured actions were bigger than words so he scooped up the bundle of blankets and shoved it up his face. "Well? Still got film for this?"

Rewind takes a moment to register the visage.It was, if he knew his terms correctly, a human child. No, wait. A baby. It's the size of a sparkling but....smaller. And, significantly softer.

Most of all, it's crying. Coolant— er, tears streaming down the side of it's cheek. Gently, his servos curled around the scoop, nestling it softly against his chassis. He felt a kind of pull in is spark. Something fond pulsing. Chromedome loosened, looking away. What's the point? The mask already hid his smile.

"Seems pretty far from it's residential zone." Chromedome peers across the horizon searching for even the most recognizable specks of rooftops.

Nope, nothing.

Just rolls and rolls of green foliage.

"Hey there little fella." The Archivist coos, digit caressing the cheek to soothe it. The baby sniffled then blink, lifting up it's tiny fingers to bap his index. "What's a baby doing here of all places?Aren't human, uh, carrier, sires are very protective of their offsprings?"

Chromedome doesn't know what to say, he's not Ratchet or Percy, but he's sure as hell relieved their argument took a turn into park. "Misplacement, maybe."

"...How do you misplace a baby in a bush?"

"Things like that can happen, you know."

"If anything, it seemed like it's deliberately thrown in there. Look! It's even wrapped in a blanket."

He held it up for the Mnemosurgeon to see who, in turn, simply shrugged.

"Yeah. To keep it warm."

"Until someone finds them."

Chromedome narrows his optics. He's got a bad feeling about this. "Rewind. What are you trying to say?"

"What I'm trying to say is that this child is deliberately left here to be found. We can't just leave it out here—"

"Are you saying we should steal it?''

"I'm not saying we should- ugh yes! I'm saying we should steal it—"

"You're kidnapping children now?"

Ratchet cuts through both of their comms, immediately barraging them, "Are you two idiots done squabbling with whatever stupid problem you have or are we gonna have to wait another fraggin' hour until you both make up and kiss?"

They had to take the baby, much to CD's dismay.

Ultra Magnus was losing his mind. What do you mean you found a baby in a ditch, in a bush, in a field of all places?! Even worse, literally miles and miles away from the nearest habitual region!

Purely, coincidental. He'll have to look in his files for crimes like this lest another is let loose for havoc. The young are the future for society! Something Cybertron is severely lacking in

Unacceptable. Simply unacceptable. Oh, and by the way, you're both going in the brig. You're late.

"Chromedome stalled me."

"Here, we go again."

Everyone is busy cooing and taking turns prodding the bab, and can someone please keep whirl away from the child he's armed, (with the exception of Megatron, the medics and UM) who didn't, mostly for the fear of passing diseases to it, mostly stood far with unimpressed looks on their faces.

First Aid, though, eventually took matters into his own hand,,, by taking it into his own hands and putting it in a glass box (shut up Brainstorm we're not using your stupid Polyhex Quadrilateral Box or whatever) to scan it's vitals and conditions

Everyone was outside, peering through the glass, prodding, helms jut at odd angles to see through the crowd — while the medics delicately assessed its condition.

Ratchet had to explain poor Rewind that not everyone wants children and not every parents are deserving of it so. He's seen this a lot in human culture.

"So they abandon babies just for the fun of it?!"

Well, he's got a point. Most of it at least. "Rewind.... no."

When they were done ensuring the baby is in optimal condition, Ratchet comes up to the, er couple, if he had to put it that way and crossed his arms, a brow raised.

"Do you trust yourselves enough to look after the child?"

"Might as well." CD sighs. ".... I've got enough responsibility on my plate, already."

"Nobody forced you to go back and take it." Rewind mutters.

Ratchet held up a servo to cut off another argument brewing. " I'm going to put this out clear."

A digit points to them. Ratchet grits his dentas and every word that spooled out of his vocalizer, more intense.

"You both are going to have to put your differences aside. You're going to resolve that problem of yours, and resolve it clean — not in front of the child, but behind. Go hide in a broom closet for all i care. Mutilate or incapacitate each other's limbs, if it helps. Fight all you want, kill each other if you have to. But this baby? This baby? You're going to give this child the most loving, caring family it can have. You hear?"

Shenanigans ensue.

Obviously, given they're Cybertronians, human anatomy isnt a topic they're very well versed with. Rewind does know a thing or two. But consulting videos are not really the best way to go when neither of them have the tools to feed the baby

Percy and Nautica (because he doesnt trust brainstorm) are tasked with concocting the milk formula. They're seen tinkering away in the lab, barring the other scientist against a let-me-in charade. Lab doors are locked and padlocked with a specific colde — suck it BS.

All elements, minerals and resources as such are to be provided Rodimus (begrudingly), then fact-checked by the medics, very, very carefully.

They're like guts deep in space and very far from earth. A quantum jump to said planet, in case of an emergency, can affect the only organic living onboard.

Moreover, Ratchet doesn't trust CDRW to learn the stuff themselves, so he holds five hour long sessions daily on how to provide sufficient needs for the baby. You know, handling them, playing with them, learning their gestures, mannerisms,,,etc

CD loves holding baby by the armpit, and especially loves it when he does that, baby tries to bap his face, squealing and babbling, trying to reach him— he finds that his chassis always melts a little.

Rewind, on the other hands, adores cradling baby in a blanket. He likes how warm and soft it is against his arms. And how easily it his to nestle baby under his chin as he walks.

He is the most affectionate from the two. And definitely records everything. Soccer mom-esque, cheering loud whenever baby does something' monumental, for instance, blabbering dada coherently. But also the most rigid. Like, lattice structured rigid.

''Rewind you watch snuff films you hypocrite, a Sunday cartoon getting a liiiiittle violent is nothing compared to the archives you go through." Rodimus wags the CD in front of the Archivist, an upturned pleading pout, pulling his features. He looked comical hunching to regard the smaller Archivist with baby nestled under his chin.

It was an obvious ploy to fiddle with the baby. Everyone's trying to get a nab of their little squeals, these days. Why wouldn't they?

Those adorable fats for cheeks, soft and cuddly, crawling around the habsuite like a cretin, gumming on everything they could find.

Skids managed dodging through the vents after a successful glimpse of peek-a-boo (Rewind forbids physical touch. He's not risking any disease that can be transferred.)

He slinked down and baby immediately latched onto his pedes, babbling for an upsie. It took him a while, and much restraint, not to take it through the vents

Swerve almost poisoned baby with the engex again because, in his own words, what's a little harm in trying new things?

He's now locked up in the brig, banned from touching baby ever .

This entire crew is a hazard and Rewind wasn't having it.

"Is this the same captain known for illegal conduct of meteor surfing?"

"....Oh, shut it."

Chromedome's not very affectionate but is less-rigid when it comes to baby. He's the type to cave in when they want something. Sweets? Oh, you want sweets? He doesn't care if the Lost Light is miles away from the nearest planet. He's going there and he's going now.

Stop him and he'll plunge those long, needle-like nails into mecha's skull, their ancestors could see Primus's aft whole again.

Hoards like,,,,around fifty satchels of sweets. It was only until Ambulon had a private chat with the Mnemosurgeon, that, yes, the baby is going to die eating that much.

So, he offered safer alternatives if baby wanted something sweet. Boiled potatoes, ripe avocados and fruits could help. (They'll have to frequent the nearest planets)

CD is like the most cynical ass ever to exist so Rewind find himself with an existential crises, staring off into a wall, when baby would scrunch up their face, the way CD does when he's displeased.

"That mask stays on."

"But I didn't even—"

"It stays on."

But he also finds, a little begrudingly, that CD is a lot more understandable these days. Mostly always cradling baby and humoring the little cretin . Arguments are close to nill. He barely has to raise his voice

Cybertronians naturally have harsh edges, given they're metal (duh), so their rooms would be congruent in terms of features as well. Not exactly a pleasant thought when an organic is dawdling about.

So to be safe, in their habsuite, Chromedome installed padded cushions everywhere. Even the ceiling is padded, mecha's kibbles are also padded (much to Rodimus's chagrin)

And, every inch and crevice of that room is filled with scribbles. (Scribbles only Swerve can decipher, but he's busy lounging in the brig so there's that.)

Red Alert, during a habsuite check, once blacked out inside the room because he didn't recognize the new change. It was so pastel-ish, bright and soft, he justs goes away

Chromedome finds the poor mech on the ground, baby on top with their crayons, assaulting said mecha's face while squealing at the teal green against stark red paint

"A new paint job, huh."

"Chromedome, get the poor guy up for Primus's sake!"

Baby is limited to the Library and Med-bay (as per Rewind's request). Library because Megatron is there and they know for a fact he's more trustworthy with the baby than anyone. And, Med-bay because, well, medics

But obviously, baby is like, a little cretin who thinks rules are a no-go and said social construct a danger to society. And, by who's declaration? Rodimus. It's Rodimus.

Rewind is going to murder that speedster of a captain

So , it's a given mech's will see CD scampering across the halls upon spotting baby dangling off a goddamn beam. Or, hanging off someone's shoulder, (said bot doesn't know, because baby is so small, the sensors didn't pick up), then sees the mnemosurgeon slumping onto the ground in relief, passed out for a minute

What's baby doing there?!

Rip CD's spark rate.

And, since they've got to play the part of a happy family, Rewind has to sleep in the same berth as his conjux. Not that they didn't ever

After the reveal (CD going behind his back doing unethical things w/ his fingers) Rewind was obviously displeased so they sported separate berths. Now? They'll manage squeezing in the same bed.

Rewind tried to act all huffy about it, glancing to one side, as though he doesn't want to be there. He does. He's just sulking.

Chromedome silently stares at the ceiling. Baby is between them, chewing on a miniature Rung figure (that Rung gave because, somehow, it calms the little thing)

Baby notices the silence and wants attention, so they bap their hands on the surface when both mechs weren't listening. And does it again for the fifth time. CD sighs and decides to humor baby, a little.

"It's past bed-time." He says quietly, patting their head

With a squeal, baby plays with CD's servo and curls it over their head. He scoops the little bundle up into his arms and loosened up a little.

Rewind swivels to find baby nuzzling his conjux, both deeply asleep. Something soft thrums in his spark, and while he’d rather bash his conjux’s a skull with a hammer, he can’t deny the lovely visage of him cuddling their child. So, he scoots over a little, resting his helm on CD's shoulder. He doesn't flinch when a servo lands on his shoulder plate, pulling him close.

Maybe, it wasn’t so bad.

#chromedome x reader #rewind x reader #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #transformers idw #idw chromedome #idw rewind #WOOOOO finally one request done urgh #Chromedome #rewind #Ratchet #idw ratchet #Idw First aid

[phantasymistart]

oh! Ganon pretty please 🙏

(I love your art sm ❤️)

ngl i drew this in about 10 minutes but hoo boy his design in tears of the kingdom is so neat and i should really draw him again sometime

#gonna wait till im done totk to make proper fanart😌 im just shrine hunting now and then im gonna do the final fight i think ;) #what a game tho #totk #tears of the kingdom #ganon #ganondorf #zelda #loz #fanart #requests #tonberry-yoda #phantasymist #art #illustration #my art #procreate #digital art #artists of tumblr #artists on tumblr

[slimey-wally]

Meet the squishy gang!

(My Slime Wally AU!)

Welcome home is by @\partycoffin!

Here is more of Melly!

And a MUCH MUCH MUCH better version of Expo

I'll add more about the others soon, + back story!

💫💚🧡❤️💙💜💛🤎🤍💚🧡❤️💙💜💛🤎🤍💫

Oh, yeah and happy Valentine's day! 💌 💘

#welcome home fanart #wally darling au #slime wally #slime barnaby #poppy partridge fanart #poppy partridge au #welcome home barnaby #welcome home frank #howdy au #sally starlet #julie joyful #Wally AU #eddie dear #Too many tags- #I freaking can't with Nova's glasses- #They're too cute 😭 #Yay so happy I'm done with this- #I can finally get working on my inbox requests #*happy dance* #Not surprising that Melly won

[n01r-kn1ght]

Horrortale sans but he is short.. and tries to be intimidating..

Wether or not he succeeds is up to you! :D have fun if ur doing this!

I think he succeeded

Mixed feeling with this one. I have some panels I really like and some that don’t look right

Also the last panel was very much inspired by @zenubi-scribbles ‘s judge sans sketch

Click the image for a better quality

#horrortale #horrortale comic #undertale comic #horrortale sans #canon horrortale sans #took 50 years but it’s finally done #I think I’m gonna give the comics a break #dw I’ll still finish up the rest of the requests #thanks Zen for the help!

[soleilnomoon]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･titled — “lady(bug) killer.”

9k words (shh i know i know), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni; angst city, there’s fluff somewhere somehow i think, smut obviously; shanks is a bully and an ass but that’s why we love him, reader has no self-preservation (when has she ever lbr); feat. cute stuff like making out, alcohol, some smoking, oral (f receiving), biting, reader being shameless; shanks is mean when he’s jealous and reader is equally as ridiculous, also benn beckman, yasopp, and lucky roux make a tiny cameo. anyway this was 1000% self-indulgent, but idc.

this is for @strawhatsoraya, and even though it’s *calculates* 7? months late ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ lmaooo i finished bb, a labor of love for u because i’m absurd and u enable me. don’t blame me for nothin, i did what i could!!! (if u see typos/grammatical errors no u didn’t.)

DELUSION X IS X INEVITABLE

the seas are not, and never have been, kind — nor are they patient. weakness is rarely tolerated, so to combat that, to give yourself some semblance of strength, you tell yourself stories in the hopes of extracting a bit of courage. there’s one in particular that you like to tell yourself when things get to be a little too much.

it’s about the impossible love between the sun and the moon — the two seemingly trapped in an endless cycle of cat and mouse, chasing one another across the skies for eternity.

golden-hued, dazzling, brilliant; a deity above all others with a kingdom as expansive as its reach — grand and all encompassing. the sun is a powerful, overwhelming force of nature, able to disrupt the earth as he sees fit, his heat infiltrating any crevice it can find with each new day. the stars serve as reluctant guides, leaving behind crumbs for the sun to follow. they’re much too quick, twinkle out of sight, and the moon is nowhere to be seen. she’s a shadow, a mirage, an entity that’s completely out of the sun’s reach no matter what he does.

the moon, in contrast, is serene when in rest, shimmering proudly in the dark sky — illuminating the seas for wayward sailors, dreams, and the like. calm, the epitome of grace, yet unyielding; forever dictating the tides as she sees fit. there’s a sharpness to her beauty; it’s cold and unapproachable — a single rare flower that blooms nightly in the sky, her spores a sweet poison that serves to ensnare unsuspecting stargazers, adding yet another devoted follower to her massive collection. a hopeless romantic deep down, admiring the blazing trail that the sun leaves behind. fear forces the moon to hesitate, never to embrace the sun’s brilliance and warmth.

despite being the biggest star hanging in the sky, the sun remains out of the moon’s reach; and despite priding herself on her uncanny ability to pluck the truth from anyone, she conveniently evades revealing her own dark truths.

the ocean is a reluctant playground, her mirror of truth; if the moon looks hard enough, she can see the golden light from the sun touching the water. if she hangs back, then maybe she might be able to grab onto some of that warmth. she’s always so cold. it’s evident in how she approaches life. her rage is frigid, hidden, forbidden from ever coming out; a stated beauty from afar, breathtaking and life changing up close.

everyone is too afraid to approach her; no one wants to risk her wrath — except the sun.

where the sun chases away his own shadows, the moon welcomes them. there’s poetry in the dance they do; a ballet in several parts — steps light and well-rehearsed, as the stars play a sweet, melancholic melody. it’s indescribable; a work of art fit to inspire the masses.

ascending along the expansive sky, the sun begins his rhythmic march, reveling in the sparkling remnants of light that moon has left behind. it’s always been said that the sun lusts after the moon, but it’s not quite as simple as that. the moon leads the dance — measured, practiced, perfect; while the sun clumsily follows along, sure-footed, and honest. a never-ending cycle of what ifs and maybes; a love affair that is in a deadly, hypnotic loop.

yours is a story about love, about life, and about losing bits of yourself in someone else.

shanks has always been fond of the sun, of its power, its size, and its impact on life; he’s always reached his arms out every morning, soaking up as much of the warmth and heat as he can, forever rejuvenated by its light. you have always favored the moon — its eerie silence, the way life seems to hold its breath for it, how you can gaze at it without consequence.

both of you are fueled by the whims of their love — the former a frenetic storm, hounding islands and ships, dangerous when provoked; the latter a frozen lake, one step and the ice cracks on the shallow surface, pulling bright-eyed victims deep under, freezing them from head to toe.

in stories of antiquity, the two never truly meet, but somehow in this story, you and shanks experience what may be considered the most difficult sort of love to bear. potentially ill-fated and destined to fail, you delude yourself into thinking that you can have the entirety of his heart and not suffer any consequences. there’s no greater love than the one you desperately want to attain and can’t; it’s an addicting cycle that neither of you want to break.

PASSION X NOT X PAIN

from your father you learn obstinance; it’s carefully woven into your daily routines, each stitch tighter than the last, the thread unbelievably strong even as it’s pulled taut underneath your skin. by the time it reaches your bones, you’re already well into adulthood, fragility and naivety carelessly discarded, the remains intentionally desiccated, crumbling underneath your feet as you navigate through life. a never-ending labyrinth of torment and desire, a hunger for the unknown gnawing continuously in the pit of your stomach.

from your mother you learn humility; a tradition, she tells you, but adds as an afterthought: an eternal obligation. it sits on your shoulders, weighing you down, making you question every decision and thought. you never say what you truly mean, never ask for the things you want; resentment lines the crevices of your teeth, dictating your tone and choice of words. your tongue a maestro, pushing out each phrase with purpose; every word pinpricks your skin — a dull, cumbersome pain chipping away at your sanity.

you become obsessed with spontaneity, rejecting routines, and deviating from the norm. they can never keep you indoors long enough; you’re usually climbing something, running somewhere — enticed by the possibility of adventure. you leave your hometown to travel across the grand line, staying on various islands for months at a time — to learn about regional dishes and cultivate your skills.

your heart, unfortunately, has always been a flighty thing — falling in and out of love, leading you down a treacherous path, one that leaves a deep scar you can’t seem to heal no matter what you do. still, you fortify yourself any way you can; it’s not permanent, but it does the job somewhat effectively.

like clockwork, you find yourself in the middle of a busy street, perusing the market. you look over a round, shiny apple before buying a few to take home. unbeknownst to you, your day will quickly derail, bringing about impossibly rash decisions on your part.

as usual, it takes forever to dock the ship; he doesn’t even bother yelling t the new recruits, because he’s trying to ignore the hangover that’s kicking his ass right now. yasopp is cackling off to his right, tears flowing freely as he recants drunken tales from last night. he’d love to join his friend in all that revelry, but there’s a pounding in his head that won’t quite go away.

shanks downs another cool glass of water before loudly announcing that they need to find provisions before heading to their next destination.

the island isn’t hard to navigate, so they wander until they reach the lively town. it’s when you’re fussing with a vendor over the outrageous price for a small bottle of seasoning, that shanks notices you for the first time. as someone who takes pride in swallowing a great deal of pain without complaint, he’s finding it very difficult to not rub his chest — to somehow calm down that foolish heart of his.

it’s doing things it’s never done before; beating much too loudly, making his thoughts scatter around — it’s bothersome and he doubts he has time to deal with it. he almost voices that very sentiment out loud, but is distracted by your smile, which makes him take another step forward. then you’re laughing, another ordeal for him to suffer through — your voice melodic and hypnotizing.

shanks rubs his eyes repeatedly, blinking away any residual fatigue; surely it’s the fault of the bourbon they drank, because he must be dreaming. it wouldn’t be the first time he’s mistaken a dream for reality, although this strangely feels real to him. he��s not sure if it’s the shape of your jaw, or the roundness of your cheeks, but there’s something wholly familiar about you. he frowns at that, brings his hand to his chest to rub the ache away. it’s beckman who catches up with him first, dark eyes landing on shanks for a moment before following his line of sight.

throat dry, head a little fuzzy, shanks asks, “do you see her?”

the question is absurd, but he has to know; and even though it takes a moment, beckman finally answers him. “yes,” he says, voice low but certain, “she’s real, captain.”

he has no need to shop for vegetables, but winds up at the same stall as you. if he wasn’t so damn obvious, you probably wouldn’t have said anything — except, he’s crowding your space a little too much; but when you turn to tell him off, you hesitate. there’s no reason for him to be that tall, no reason for his ruggedness to add to his overall attractiveness — enough to incite irritation, that makes your face burn and siphons all your logic. his voice is doubly offensive — deep, husky, and gravelly, touching parts of you that you don’t want to think about.

what starts as a friendly conversation — of him asking about local cuisine, of you giving him recommendations on dishes to try — somehow morphs into shanks teasing you as if he’s known you for much longer than ten minutes. you’re not normally this social, preferring to keep to your own so that you won’t be bothered by people in general. the townspeople are more than friendly, and a little too overwhelming to be around; yet you don’t mind talking to him and find that it’s nearly impossible to pull yourself away.

fear — of vulnerability and intimacy — threads itself around your fingers, makes your hands shake as you hold onto your bags.

eventually, you give in and grace him with your name. he says it a few times, mostly to himself and you dislike the way you stand there, listening to him — caught in a thick net, completely unaware that the fortress you’ve built over the years has completely fallen apart. a terrifying feat, you think; one that makes you want to run until your legs give out. intrigued by your stubbornness and insatiable curiosity, shanks decides to stay on the island a little longer. his crew doesn’t mind, they like the break. yasopp tries to pry for more information, but shanks simply says he wants to relax for a bit.

it doesn’t take long for them to chisel away at your reluctance, a friendship that buds and transforms quickly. against your better judgment, you grow fond of them — with their rowdiness and frank manner of speech, with their crude jokes and ability to turn any gathering into a large party. adventurers and treasure fiends, a group with monstrous strength, not the sort of people your parents would’ve expected you to hang around.

and maybe that’s why you hardly resist their charm — or, his charm, you should say. because that’s what it really is, much to your disapproval.

you offer to cook for them one night, and after the first bite shanks asks you to join his crew. your initial refusal is met with a frown on his part; he insists that you join them — one can never have too many chefs on board, and lucky roux has already taken a liking to you. still, you refuse; and when shanks asks you the following morning, you refuse again.

there’s no real reason why you keep saying no. it’s mostly because you like seeing how frustrated he gets, where he huffs about it all damn day, claiming you’ve broken his heart for the fiftieth time that week. the best part is how his crew mates make fun of him for being rejected by you again.

he takes it all in stride, though — laughing along with everyone else, ordering another round of drinks. as wary as the townspeople were by shanks’ presence initially, they’ve come to appreciate his generous patronage. it’s not often that pirates settle in a specific area for longer than a few days, but shanks is determined not to leave without you. he’s not exactly sure why he feels compelled to take you along, and while a few of his crew mates have some sound theories as to why that is, he ignores them completely.

it's beckman who manages to convince you after eating a third lemon square; he’s impressed by your talent for creating delicate and delicious pastries, even more so by the fact that shanks to enjoy eating them more than he should.

“he doesn’t really care for sweets,” beckman says carefully, sipping his tea slowly, enjoying the warmth wafting from the hot drink.

you know better than to ask, but the question rolls off your tongue anyway. “who doesn’t?” you feign ignorance, fuss with a stray curl, tugging and playing with it while he eyes you critically.

the vice-captain reminds you that you can only travel so far along the grand line alone; and he’s right, you came to terms with that a while ago. it’s an opportunity for adventure, and a chance to hone your skills.

“fine,” you say, while crossing your arms, leaning forward on your chair. “how much?” not that you really care about the money, but they’re pirates — notorious ones, at that — you won’t risk your life sailing with them if the reward isn’t worth it.

a small smile works its way onto his lips as he motions for you to scoot closer. you oblige without hesitation but end up hopping out of your seat when he whispers the amount in your ear.

“that’s a lot of fucking money.” you almost don’t believe it, but beckman isn’t the childish sort, nor does he lie for the sake of lying. you swallow hard and don’t bother acting coy. “when do we leave?” it’s not exactly the sort of job you’d place on a resume, but you can’t say you aren’t excited to traverse across the ocean.

shanks offers more gold than necessary, but you’re not one to complain, nor do you care about bleeding a pirate dry of his stolen treasure. he decides to spend one final night on the island, so naturally his crew throws a large feast in celebration. you doubt you’ll ever get tired of their impromptu parties, or the raucous way they laugh and sing, voices carrying out into the sleepy streets. the energy is addictive and hard to escape; you soak it all up, allow it to loosen your bones. you laugh and drink with the others but keep your distance from a certain red-haired captain. you’re not sure how to be around him, especially now that you’ve accepted his invitation after fighting him for so long about it.

it’s completely by chance that you spot shanks near the bonfire; you think you’re being subtle when you watch him from afar, admiring the way his throat bobs when he tilts his head back to down a full glass of liquor. the fire emits a deep glow, one that extracts a memory from the back of your mind — oranges and yellows draping over him, an enigma that will always remain out of your reach no matter how hard you try.

the truth of it sits on your tongue — raw and distressing — so you down a shot of whiskey and maneuver through the crowd of people to find a place to sit and rest.

yassop and lucky roux tease shanks mercilessly throughout the day, so much that he ends up smoking more than he means to. a light haze clouds his rationality, and he mumbles under his breath, which only makes them laugh louder, pointing out his plight for all to hear. no matter how much he denies it, or how much he tells them that they’re full of shit, the story remains the same: boss has fallen in love. it’s annoying, to say the least. just because he feels calmer whenever you’re around, and just because his heart continues to beat louder — heavy, relentless, and unsettling — doesn’t mean that he’s fallen in love with you.

if anything, it means he needs to get off this damn island quickly. “it’s probably something in the water,” he tells himself. no need to stay long enough to carry it with him elsewhere.

a few hours later, nearly everyone is passed out, either from drinking or eating or both — and shanks, unfortunately, can’t seem to sleep. neither can you. he finds you walking alone on the beach, sandals in hand, humming something soft and familiar. before he can even make his presence known, you look over at him and a smile tugs on your lips. you’re not sure what compels you, but the sight of him standing there, watching you like you’re some sight to behold — and if anyone asked him at that exact moment, he would say that yes, you are — invites a small warmth to circle around your chest. an irresistible flame that grows hotter the closer he gets.

OBSESSED X & X IRRITABLE

what starts as subtle flirting rife with teasing jokes and lingering touches, turns into something frighteningly intense. shanks routinely teases you in front of everyone, and while you’re embarrassed by it sometimes, you actually like it. there’s a push and pull, where you also have him backed into a corner that he can’t escape from with his sanity intact.

shanks starts being more bold when he touches you, kissing you randomly in hallways when no one’s looking, his hand roaming down to your ass and squeezing it playfully. the rush makes everything worth it; he likes the way you push him away, and you like the way he chases you. if he knew that you’d fallen in love some time ago, he’d never let you live it down. his touches make your skin hot and your head fuzzy, leaving you light-headed and wanting for more. after a few months, though, he’s still given you no indication on whether this is a casual thing or something more.

you’re too afraid to ask at this point, always losing your nerve when he sweet talks you late at night. you swallow back your questions, but they pile up eventually, until you can’t take it anymore. after that stunt he pulled in that pub, he drunkenly tells yasopp to make up a shirt for you that says “angry when wet” on the front. your face burns, both in anger and in embarrassment when you receive the gift, and shanks laughs loudly when you throw the shirt at his face. he confesses that he forgot he even asked for yasopp to do that, which only makes him laugh harder.

in a fit of fury, you tell shanks that you refuse to have sex with him and that he has to keep his hands to himself. for a month, at least. he figures you’re all talk and only agrees to it because you’re so determined and cute when you’re angry like that. when the others find out about the ban, they ridicule their captain mercilessly. he tries to act unaffected, but something about the way you insist on seeing this ban through rubs him the wrong way.

it’s been twenty-two — no, twenty-three — days, and you’re barely keeping it together. shanks thinks it’s hilarious that you believe he’ll cave before you do; and you’re determined to make him suffer. now granted, you are to blame for the predicament you found yourself in just a month prior — even now, you still suffer from that embarrassment — when shanks fucked you in the back of that dingy pub.

they’ve all taken to calling you ladybug — bug, for short; something shanks thought up in the moment, spurned by yasopp’s laughter at the matter. and despite fighting against it initially, the nickname grows on you. shanks appears every bit as unaffected as he always does, still flirting with you whenever he can, but respecting your wishes all the same. regardless of that, he still finds ways to get under your skin. it’s your hope that holding out will make shanks realize that he wants you in a deeper way than just physical intimacy.

you should just let him go and move on, but you can’t. he always pulls you back, always finds a way to make you smile — the warmth from his presence is enough to burn you alive most days — and you find yourself wrapped up in him without realizing. incidentally, shanks also can’t let you go, and never intends to anyway. he’s a selfish creature by nature, not cognizant enough to recognize his own role in that.

on a sleepy morning, you take your time and carefully bake pastries for the crew. last night you promised them something tasty and sweet — your specialty, really — and they’ve given you room to work without interruption. as a chef for the red-hair pirates, you take pride in your work; in feeding the crew, in ensuring that they eat well-balanced meals that give them strength and energy. shanks has always been in awe of your talent — your hands are delicate and exact, skilled laborers that make brilliant works of art whenever you’re in the kitchen.

you’re humming a nameless tune to yourself, cutting up strawberries neatly, as another person silently invades your small sanctuary. while you wash your hands in the sink, shanks approaches you and a sudden awareness makes you freeze. his body barely touches yours, but he reaches over you to crab a cup out of the cabinet above your head. given the difference in your height, it always seems like he’s crowding you without trying. although in this instance, he’s intentionally doing so.

a groan rolls out of your mouth, frustration eating away at the remainder of your patience. you’ve been giving him short answers lately, barely looking at him — although, that isn’t exactly true; you’ve stolen more glances than you can count over the past month — so whenever he can, he finds ways to tease you mercilessly.

“oops,” his hand lowers so he can rinse out the cup, “didn’t mean to interrupt you, doll.”

teeth sinking into your bottom lip, you count to ten, breathe out of your nose and smile tightly. “uh huh,” his body is still much too close for your liking, “just make it fast.”

a sly grin, one that you can’t see, drifts onto his lips. “you know i can never turn down a quick fuck.”

you slap his hand, make him drop the cup into the sink, and spin around to face him. your face burns painfully, the flush a permanent fixture now that he’s moved on from light teasing, to full out being insufferable around you. “shanks, enough.” you shove his chest, much to his amusement, his eyes gleaming with mischief, but you can’t exactly look at him properly, can you? and when you manage to get over a bit of your embarrassment, manage to look up at him through your thick, dark lashes, you struck by his stupidly handsome face. despite his rugged exterior, you know there’s a gentleness that periodically comes out when the two of you are together.

an unexpected ache plagues your chest and you ignore it; but you miss touching his scars, miss kissing him and being kissed by him. he already smells like smoke and bourbon, a scent that you’ve come to covet over the past few weeks.

belatedly, shanks realizes that he miscalculated; your beauty still takes his breath away, especially when you’re this close to him. his eyes drift along your soft, round features, linger on your plump lips — where he’s suddenly overcome with the desire to trace your cupid’s bow with his fingers — and stare a little too hard at your neck that’s been blemish free for a while. a shame, really, as he likes when your neck shows proof of his affection for you. if he’s not careful, he’ll get sucked back into your orbit; as always, your brown eyes — intense, unyielding, a fusion of dulce de leche and tree bark — keep him rooted in place. your dark, curly hair continues to remind him of a storm that he desperately wants to navigate alone.

caught in a daze, he almost forgets that you’re mad at him, until you roll your eyes and push past him. he watches you languidly, completely smitten with you all over again, eyes transfixed on your retreating form — round ass and thick, curvy hips captivating him entirely.

you stomp away and leave the pastries to their own devices, reeling over the fact that shanks had the audacity to say that to you. but as you keep walking, the brisk morning air whipping around you, you realize you’re not upset because he said it. you’re upset because he didn’t actually try to fuck you in the kitchen.

a shame, you know, but you can’t help the thought.

it’s becoming more and more apparent now that you might be the only one suffering from this ban. you decide you need a better plan, one that is strong enough to withstand shanks’ careless attitude, one that might just push him to the edge.

a childish impulse strikes you, and you opt to give him the silent treatment, which only further amuses him. he watches you lazily, grinning each time you turn your nose up and stomp past him. you make it so easy he doesn’t even have to try riling you up. you ignoring him isn’t much of a big deal — so he tells himself — but when he sees just how friendly the crew is with you, something sinister builds inside the pit of his abdomen and works its way up to his chest. when you head back to finish working in the kitchen, he tells his crew that he’s implementing a new rule.

“no one,” he says, after gathering everyone else, surveying his crew mates critically, eyes particularly landing on yasopp and benn beckman, “touches ladybug. understood?”

they all agree, although beckman, lucky roux, and yasopp pull him aside to ask what this new rule is all about. shanks being shanks, playfully waves them off and starts drinking instead. beckman exchanges wary glances with the others, but they don’t push the issue. every time you try to get closer to someone — whether it’s a crew mate, or an overly friendly resident of a sea faring town — he finds a way to sabotage, laughing as you eye him angrily, hands balled into small fists, which only makes him laugh more.

THREE’S X A X CROWD

part of your duties is to accompany the crew as they go into town to scope out any local fruits and vegetables that you want to try. you like talking with the townspeople, like getting their insight on their regional dishes. you just live for the thrill of creating new, exciting meals and want your crew mates to feel the love that you pour into everything you make for them.

on a particular island, the ship is docked far enough away to not attract too much attention. there aren’t any major navy bases nearby, but one can’t be too careful in the new world, can they? there’s a festival in town, one that they keep advertising for. you catch wind and want to go, but shanks decrees that only a portion of the crew is allowed to disembark, while the others stand by on the ship. too many pirates traversing through the island will set off alarms; thankfully, the island is partial to the patronage of pirates, so they aren’t too upset that shanks’ crew has docked there.

somehow, you’re part of the group designated to stay on the ship, much to your annoyance. you try to plead with beckman, even go as far as pouting your lips, but he doesn’t budge. “captain’s orders,” which seems to be the norm these days. and when he sees the way your shoulders drop, he says, a little quietly, “sorry bug.” you know they’re just going to drink and act foolish on land, so you wait and take your time dressing up.  you have an actual reason for wanting to go into town; you need ingredients and don’t trust the others to shop properly for you, so you take matters into your own hands.

no one dares to stop you as you make your way off the ship; you tell the others you’ll be right back, and of course they believe you — why would you lie to them?

and you’re not lying, per se, you do want to get ingredients — although that isn’t your primary focus at the moment.

the festival is loud and seemingly merry with alcohol and food everywhere. thankfully the music makes the shitty alcohol taste better. shanks sits at a large table with the others, drinking, smoking, laughing as various people fawn over him and feed him cut up pieces of fruit. flirtatious by nature, he doesn’t even blink when they allow their delicate fingers to linger on his lips, or when they whisper things in his ear, or when they take turns to perch themselves on his lap.

for some reason, despite knowing that he should, he isn’t exactly stopping their advances.

guilt eats away at his crew mates at the sight of shanks on his usual path of self-destruction; yasopp tries to get him to see reason, beckman too, but he waves them off, saying he can do as he pleases. which only tells him that he’s still annoyed about you not talking to him properly these days. and, despite him not openly saying it, he’s suffering too.

you have fun watching the fireworks for a while, mesmerized by the loud explosions of color decorating the sky; before long, you find yourself in the middle of all the festivities, humming to yourself as you scope out the stalls. you get swept up into a small crowd of people and get turned around when you slip away. as you try to catch your bearings, you hear a familiar laugh and, on instinct, follow the sound of his voice.

while standing off to the side, you watch shanks and the others, heart beating far too loud for comfort. your hands ball into fists all over again, and you sink your nails into your palms when another woman drapes herself over shanks, giddy and tipsy, blushing every time he smiles her way. you know he’s just doing this because he’s pissed off at you, and rather than get sad, you decide to head to the pub and drink.

three drinks later, you saunter back out into the night and join the festival. you enjoy the way the music thrums underneath your skin, the beat thumping in your veins; a cool breeze travels nearby, making you feel light-headed. you forgot how freeing it is to be on your own — without a group of people to worry about, and a selfish captain who tramples over your heart and feelings repeatedly with his blasé attitude. maybe it would be better to just leave? but, the more you think about it, the more your head hurts, so you decide you’d rather enjoy yourself for a bit before heading back to the ship.

the alcohol makes you bolder than usual, and you’re all smiles with flushed cheeks when the vice-captain runs into you on his way to get more food. an incredibly foolish, petty idea crawls into your mind — it barely sits long enough before you act impulsively again.

“what are you doing here, bug?”

you simply shrug, as if you’ve embarked on an innocent expedition and didn’t expect to see him. beckman doesn’t buy the act one bit and pulls you into a nearby alley to talk with you privately. sighing loudly, he fixes you with a steely glare. “you’re suppose to be on the ship,” he says carefully, “d’you know how much trouble you’ll be in if shanks sees you here?” there’s no reason for him to tell you that, but you can’t fault him for trying to be nice. still, the idea of shanks thinking he can just dictate how you live your life, pushes you closer to the edge with your sanity barely intact.

and before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “i am not a child,” you say angrily; your annoyance has reached the point of no return, so you let the irritation flow freely and allow it to fuel your pettiness. beckman pauses for a moment before chuckling darkly, shaking his head at your antics. from the determination on your face, and the way you don’t seem to want to budge on the issue, he can understand why shanks is so smitten with you — in fact, everyone on their crew understands — so he relents.

“fine, i’ll accompany you, then.”

you hadn’t expected him to offer, and you feel the tension leave your body slowly. maybe you were overreacting a bit, and maybe you just need to relax and enjoy the night like everyone else. you visit several stalls and shop around for a bit; you like the vice-captain’s company as he doesn’t say much, nor does he complain when you make him try various sweets to see which ones you should recreate. and while you might not intend to, you can’t help but flirt with him a little — touching his arm, laughing at his dry humor, standing much closer than necessary. beckman knows what you’re doing, but he doesn’t stop you; maybe shanks will get his act together if he thinks he has competition. you doubt he will, but it’s always worth a try, right?

DIAMOND X IN THE X ROUGH

after a while, the merriment feels stale; shanks’ laughter is hollow, forced, and unbecoming. and while on the surface it looks like he’s soaking up all the attention that’s being given to him, he’s not happy about it at all. a small frown works its way onto his lips as he tries to work out the cause of his unhappiness, completely ignoring his role in all of this. he’s not sure what’s missing — or, rather, he’s sure, but he just doesn’t want to say it out loud. that would make it real, and while he doesn’t want to make a habit out of it, shanks has been lying to himself for some time now. he knows that if he’d let you come with them, he’d be having much more fun — that thought alone makes him reconsider how he’s handled everything between you two.

the universe, it seems, has a cruel sense of humor. as his thoughts continue to berate him, he spots you walking with beckman. he narrows his eyes at you both but offers a smile — one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes — once you approach the table.

jaw clenched, shanks manages to greet you without fail. “hey there, lovebug.” there’s tension in his shoulders, and that amiable demeanor of his is shed, which makes the women near him a little reluctant as they squirm awkwardly in their seats. “thought i told you to stay on the ship,” he says lightly, as if this is the most casual conversation in the world. beckman sighs, knowing that shanks will most likely read into the situation incorrectly; but before he can explain himself, he sits back down in his seat and pours himself a drink.

“you don’t own me,” you say with a slight huff, glancing over at shanks from the corners of your eyes, “i’m allowed to go where i please.”

shanks almost laughs at that, but keeps it inside; he wants to tell you that you’re wrong, but he knows that this isn’t the right time or place for that sort of discussion. lucky roux offers to make some room for you, but you smile sweetly and announce that there’s no need. they all look at you, confused and a little intrigued, and before lucky roux insists again, you say, “i have a seat already.”

without warning, you gently perch your round ass on top of beckman’s lap, effectively silencing the group around you. it suddenly feels as if time has slowed down for shanks, who shifts in his chair as he watches you and beckman.

the vice-captain sighs again and playfully pinches your side, a move that does not go unnoticed by shanks, of course. you let out a small shriek, cheeks burning, and swat his hand before scooting up higher on his lap. the move alone nearly sends shanks and beckman into an early grave, for different reasons, obviously. meanwhile you’re smiling like a cat — mischievous and proud, as if you’ve cornered your prey and you’re ready to pounce.

you look so damn smug and shanks wants to fuck your mouth for all of that insolence.

beckman holds onto your hip as you cross your legs, revealing the deep slit in your skirt. your legs are on display, catching the eyes of everyone at the table and the random party goers passing by. shanks clenches his jaw so tightly, it’s a miracle he hasn’t cracked his teeth. he knows that you’re provoking him into acting out, and while he doesn’t want to feed into it, his jealousy knows no bounds right now. especially since he knows you’re not wearing any panties — it’s why you chose that particular skirt.

you really only wanted to tease shanks a little, so you’re on cloud-nine when you notice how bothered he is over your little act.

it takes an inordinate amount of strength, on shanks’ part, to not split beckman’s face in two for his complicit behavior. he’s being unfair, he knows that — but he doesn’t really care. yasopp and lucky roux try to diffuse the situation with lighthearted banter and jokes — they also tell their guests to leave, because knowing shanks this might not end well.

beckman leans forward, lips ghosting along the shell of your ear, making your body warmer than necessary. “settle down, bug, we don’t want to cause a scene, do we?” you shake your head at that and swallow back whatever complaints you want to say when you see the hardened look on shanks’ face. you’ve only ever seen him that serious when his anger reaches a certain point — so you know you’ve fucked up pretty badly. you have the decency to act ashamed as you slide off beckman’s lap and grab your bags. you should probably say something to shanks, but you don’t bother looking back at him and instead head back to the ship.

you’re absolutely furious right now and so is shanks.

beckman rubs the back of his neck before leaning forward. “i told you, captain,” he keeps his tone friendly, yet firm, “if you’re not careful, one of us will take bug away.” at that, shanks casts a sharp glance at the other crew members seated at the table — the intensity behind his gaze forces them to turn away and look at other things. shanks motions for one of them to slide the bottle of vodka his way, and beckman groans audibly.

“not again, shanks, let—”

as shanks isn’t in a negotiating mood, he cuts his first mate off quickly — maliciously, even — with  venom sifting along his tongue, the layer thick enough he almost chokes on it. his voice is much too hoarse, but he spits out, “drink.”

it’s not a game that the red-hair pirates ever like to play with shanks, and he knows it; which is why he keeps insisting, and why his best friend keeps refusing. shanks’ anger reaches a tipping point; it transforms into a fire that steadily burns along the back of his neck, hot enough to make impulsive thoughts gather around him. the idea of extinguishing it never crosses his mind, although he knows that eventually he’ll need to face it head-on. and as he grips the bottle of alcohol tightly, a sharp moment of clarity hits him.

it’s by chance that he swallows it back, not wanting to make this even messier than it already is.

beckman shifts in his seat, a disapproving frown settling comfortably on his face. “it won’t be fair, i’m practically drunk already.”

“spare me the bullshit,” shanks says with a smile that serves as a small warning; he places a glass in front of beckman. “drink.” beckman pinches the space bridge of his nose and exhales a bit of his irritation. but when he picks up the glass, he recoils from the strong scent.

“this is practically rubbing alcohol.”

shanks only hums while shrugging lazily, before knocking back the drink; the burn revitalizes him, the pain reminds him that he’s alive. in a game of endurance, shanks always comes out on top. so it’s no wonder that beckman taps out after two shots.

“i value my liver, unlike you.”

this time, shanks’ laughter is genuine; he hops out of his chair and claps a hand on beckman’s back. “you’re forgiven,” he says when he leans down. as an afterthought, he adds, “this time.”

you’ve done a good job derailing his night — not that he can really blame you, he was being absolutely shameless in the worse way — so he’s decided he’s had enough. somehow, he’s rationalized that you’re the only childish and ridiculous person in this situation because he intends on stamping that attitude out.

SUN X STARS X MOON

you peruse shanks’ room while sipping from the bottle of rum you found. although you count tonight as a small victory against shanks, you didn’t think he’d get that mad. was all the teasing worth it, in the end? you leave the rum on the nightstand before climbing onto his bed and enjoy the softness of the mattress. maybe you overreacted, or maybe it’s all his fault. the guilt sits with you, until shanks enters his room.

“the hell are you doing back so soon?”

it’s not a proper greeting in the least, but you’re not exactly ready to deal with him just yet. but, since he’s already here, you might as well have it out. shanks closes the door and leans against it, partially obscured in the shadows as the moon bathes you in its light through the window.

“in case you’ve forgotten, this is my room and that’s my bed that you’re lounging comfortably on.”

he’s got you there. you roll your eyes in response, which draws out a chuckle from him once he pushes away from the door and goes to sit near you on the bed.

your emotions swell inside of you and become too heavy for you to keep hidden. “fine, whatever, i’ll leave.” you hop off the bed but then turn around. “you’re an asshole, you know that? you string me along for months and then anytime anyone else wants to talk to me you suddenly intervene.” the words tumble out of your mouth fluidly, you’re surprised your tongue could keep up. blinking back tears — because you refuse let him see you this vulnerable. “you piss me off so much, i… can’t do this anymore.”

it’s the first time that you’ve properly articulated how you’ve felt about this whole stupid situation. you feel a bit lighter but then sense of dread overcomes you, gnaws at your stomach — twisting and creating knots that make you want to run away forever. shanks takes a moment and mulls over your words, but his long silence is all the confirmation you need. you’re halfway to the door when he calls out to you.

“wait, come here.”

against your better judgment, you turn around and head back to his side. he sits on the edge of the bed, pulls you in between his legs, and warms an arm around you. “i hear you, bug, i really do.”

this is the first time he’s ever willingly said anything to make him vulnerable like that, so you relent, soften in his hold, allow your shattered heart to repair itself piece by piece. you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him softly. he’s normally much hastier with you — being a pirate captain, he barely has time to himself, so whenever he does get a moment to touch you, he’s always in a rush.

but tonight — the moon full and pink, hanging heavy in the sky, stars shimmering brilliantly around it — he opts to slow down. shanks takes his time memorizing the shape of your lips, tongue gently caressing yours as you sigh against his lips. he kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like he’s afraid you’ll leave him if he doesn’t. you’re certainly in no hurry to finish anytime soon. by the time you’re done kissing, you’re a little breathless and can barely hold it together. shanks, unsurprisingly, is in a similar predicament, as his cock hasn’t given him a day of peace since your ban started.

but he decides to let go and mumbles, “thirty days is a long fucking time,” and you laugh, surprised at his words.

you climb onto the bed with him, laughing as he drops playful kisses along your neck, and straddle him once he lies down on his back. you rub your ass against his stiff length, forcing him to groan audibly. he’s always more vocal when he’s tipsy, and the rum has you feeling bolder as the minutes pass by. before you can do it again, shanks slaps your ass hard and you let out an involuntary shriek.

he laughs at you, laughs at the way you’re suddenly acting demure, as if you weren’t the one who started this. “i thought you didn’t want anyone to hear you?” he gives you a knowing look and a sly smile crawls onto his face. heat travels along your skin, making your cheeks burn in the worst way; you place a hand over his mouth on impulse.

“shut up, what is wrong with you?”

you hate the way you’re suddenly embarrassed about all of this. shanks, however, takes it all in stride, laughing behind your hand and mumbling something unintelligible against your palm. he knows he needs to act quickly before she makes him cum in his pants without trying. so when you pull your hand back, he says, “come on, put your pretty pussy on my mouth.” you stare at him wide-eyed, but he doesn’t relent. you mumble something about possibly being too heavy, which makes him laugh at your ridiculous excuse.

“how many times do i need to show you?” his strength, he means.

before he can do anything too rash, you pull your skirt up and position yourself over his face, pussy already slick with your arousal. shanks runs his tongue along your folds, slipping it inside to give you a firm lick; he takes his time to eat you out, his pace tortuous but electrifying. you can barely keep quiet and moan louder than you mean to as you shamelessly ride his face. holding onto the headboard, a whirlwind whips about inside of your lower abdomen as he slurps your pussy sloppily. he pulls you closer, and your arousal drips down his lips and onto his chin. your pussy is always so eager for him, so naturally he wants to treat her right.

you lose a bit of your sanity when his tongue slips inside your hole, thrusting in and out, your whimpers and moans circling around him — the best sort of lullaby he could ask for. he flicks his tongue against your clit and you buck your hips, feverishly grinding your pussy on his tongue. he likes it when you let go like this — when you’re uncaring and free. you place so many barriers in front of your own happiness, so he’s determined to knock them all down while he can. you know it’s reckless to give in to your inhibitions like this, to fly this closely to this personified version of the sun. although, you do feel a surge of power, seeing him underneath you like that, in between your thick thighs.

if shanks is apollo, then you are a nymph with ties to the moon and the sea.

it’s when shanks swirls his tongue around your clit, mercilessly stroking it, sending tiny jolts through your thighs, making you tremble above him. the orgasm is transformative — you have tears in your eyes as you whimper pathetically, your pussy puffy and sensitive; but he doesn’t care. he licks your arousal off his lips, thinking you look divine and goddess-like in the interim following your orgasm.

time slows for you both, and maybe you’re imaging it, but your heartbeat matches his once you climb off of him. of course, as usual, shanks is smug and proud of himself, but when you start taking off your clothes and tossing them onto the floor, he follows suit. pre-cum drips slowly from the tip of his cock, and when you rub your wet pussy up and down his length, you let out a breathy moan. shanks watches you with lowered eyes, inhaling sharply once you sink down onto his cock.

your pussy swallows his girth with a slow descent, and he’s losing whatever sliver of control he thinks he has over himself when it comes to you. when his cock hits a particular spot, you shudder and moan his name; he could cum from that alone, he realizes, and it shocks the hell out of him. in retaliation, shanks thrusts into you once, then twice, as you claw at his chest and cry out for more. your pace quickens as you bounce on his cock, thighs trembling as you try to keep strong; the orgasm weakened you, but rather than give in, you keep going, rolling your hips against him, hypnotizing him without completely meaning to. he won’t last much longer at this rate, which is completely your fault, he reasons.

you ride him as long as you can, before frowning and slowing down. shanks looks at you slyly, unable to stop teasing you. “need some help?”

it’s your pride that doesn’t want you to ask for help, but you know that if you don’t, shanks will edge you until you’re on your knees in tears. “please.” if he wasn’t already teetering on the edge, your desperation would make him tease you more. he rolls so that he’s on top of you and leans forward to place kisses along your jaw and neck, loving how smooth and soft your skin is. because he’s obnoxious, he sucks and bites, leaving behind bruising marks on your neck and chest. he’s burning you alive, but you want more.

you drape your leg over his shoulder, and he kisses the inside of your thigh before flicking his tongue against your skin, enjoying the way you squirm underneath him, your heart beating much too fast in your chest, making you think seemingly impossible things. shanks slips his cock back inside of you, burying it completely, letting out a shaky breath at the way your plush walls suffocate him. the angle makes you buck your hips off the bed; he laughs darkly at your enthusiasm, but doesn’t move. the frustration alone could kill you; you want him to fuck you hard enough to shake your doubts, to combat all the warmth that keeps sliding through the cracks around your heart.

he moves his hips at his own leisure, giving you broad, powerful strokes — hard enough, that his balls slap against you, pussy squelching as he powers into you repeatedly. you should be embarrassed from the sounds alone — your pussy is wet enough for him to drown, but thankfully he’s got enough stamina to handle it.

each time his cock sinks deeper into your pussy, he feels reborn; like the sea — tumultuous, dizzying, captivating, and greedy — you suck him back in each time he tries pulling out. eventually, you wrap your arms around your thighs and he feels like you’re squeezing the remnants of his soul out of him. shanks rocks his hips against yours, rough and determined, sweat gliding along his skin. when he moans your name, your heart expands faster than you thought it would. shanks keeps his hips closer to yours, giving you short, quick thrusts, fucking you to remind you that he has no intention of letting you go. his breath is warm against your skin and you kiss him again, giving him ardent, sloppy tongue kisses that do nothing to calm you down. he swallows your moans as another orgasm grips you by the throat and nearly claims your life.

your pussy clenches around him tightly, so he takes that as a challenge and fucks you harder, giving you brutal, punishing strokes — frenetic and dizzying, making your mind spin too fast for you to keep up.

“shanks, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

whatever else you say after that is lost on you, incoherent babbling that makes him laugh at you again. it’s out of adoration, you know it is, even if he won’t openly say it. shanks e works you through your orgasm, hips jerking against yours, before his own pushes him completely over the edge. after giving you a few lazy thrusts, he cums inside of you, messy but satisfying. shanks slows down and tries to catch his breath, as you push your curls away from your face. he doesn’t leave your side after he pulls out, instead he pulls you close to him, his hand rubbing up and down your back, his subsequent kisses intense and possessive.

you don’t exactly know what will happen tomorrow, but for now you’ll cherish this moment and commit it to memory. with everything that’s happened, he doesn’t want to see you in the arms of another, and you don’t want to keep pushing him away. you’re sure something’s shifted fundamentally between you two, especially when you lay on top of him and listen to the steady, powerful beats of his heart. you suppose you can give him a little leeway, but you won’t tell him that right away. there’s a warmth that cloaks itself all over you, keeping you moored to him for the rest of the night; he enjoys the silence that accompanies your presence, and decides that he’s going to keep you for as long as he can.

#it's finally done jfc #fic request #one piece imagine #one piece angst #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #shanks angst #shanks smut #shanks x reader #shanks x y/n #*washes hands* #‘i can change him’ 🥴 #no tf i can’t!!! am i kidding?! #also… beckman… ur day will come don’t worry

[13eyond13]

Near looking really cool and serious.

I knew exactly which panel I wanted to choose for this one!

#nothing to do at work today #so I can finally get these leftover halloween requests done #near #ask #anon #hween meme #p