#live draw toto

[ravenackless]

Live Draw Macau 4d hari ini merupakan situs pengeluaran serta data dari hasil result keluaran siaran langsung toto macau di situs resmi bandar togel live macau tercepat yaitu TOTOMACAUPOOLS.ASIA. Dikarenakan pada saat ini situs resmi TOTOMACAUPOOLS.ASIA telah terkena blokir oleh nawala, situs kami ditunjuk sebagai perantara penyiaran langsung live macau toto hari ini.

[aceyalonso]

we're both winners, sweetheart - LEWIS HAMILTON

pairing : lewis hamilton x fem!reader | READ PART 1 HERE

summary : Y/n and Lewis going through the typical struggles of marriage (or in other words, the struggle of keeping up the charade of being married)

warnings : THE ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE STORY IS FAKE!!! swearing, kinda angsty, drinking, nail-biting, talking about sex (nothing too detailed), discussions of raising a family, 11-year age gap (reader is 28 years old), smut, hair pulling, unintentional overstimulation, choking, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!)

face claim - gracie abrams

word count : 18.6k

song : agora hills - doja cat

a/n : this isn't proofread and SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I WAS DEALING WITH SO MUCH PERSONAL STUFF OMG (this was supposed to be fore my 300 followers celebration thing | i might make a separate series for lyka and lando…………………………

July 8, Monday, 7:09 AM

Toto Wolff sits behind his desk, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. Y/n and Lewis sit on the other side, both looking a bit sheepish and on edge. Toto looks at them, a moment of awkward silence hanging in the air before he finally speaks. "So," he begins, his voice cautious. "I have to say, this is... quite a situation you've gotten yourselves into."

Lewis clears his throat, his gaze meeting Toto's. "Yeah, we kind of... didn't see this coming," he admits, a hint of humor in his tone. "It was a very unexpected development, to say the least."

Y/n fidgets in her seat, her fingers massaging her forehead. She glances at Toto, his expression still unreadable. She tries to sound calm and rational, but her voice betrays her nervousness. "We weren't... fully sober when it happened," she offers lamely, as if it's an excuse.

Toto's eyebrow quirks at this revelation, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Not fully sober," he repeats, his tone heavy with incredulity. "You got married... not fully sober?"

Lewis grimaces slightly at the bluntness of his words but doesn't deny it. "That... that's correct," he affirms, his voice a bit strained. "We were both a bit... impaired when we tied the knot, let's put it that way."

Toto rubs his forehead, seeming to struggle with how to respond to this information. He gathers himself and looks at them again, his expression more somber now. "And what exactly were you doing that led to this... marriage?" he asks, his tone slightly stern.

Lewis and Y/n exchange a glance, both knowing the answer will likely not help their case. Lewis speaks up first, his voice a bit sheepish. "We, ah... we were at a club. A very lively club, if you understand."

Toto leans forward in his chair, expression now a mix of thoughtfulness and strategy. "Okay," he says, "this is clearly a situation that will need some serious damage control if it gets out. We'll need the PR team to make something, anything to spin this in a way that... minimizes the impact on your image, Lewis, and the teams' reputation."

Y/n coughs, breaking the silence in the room and drawing everyone's attention. She clears her throat, feeling a bit awkward under the weight of Toto and Lewis' gazes. "Um, forgive me," she apologizes, her voice a bit hoarse. "But what... what are you suggesting?"

Toto's eyes shift to her, his expression still calculating. "Well, we need to control the narrative," he explains. "We need to get ahead of any potential media storm and craft a story that… makes this look less like a drunken mistake and more like a… a romantic love story, perhaps."

Lewis can't help but scoff slightly at this, his mouth tugging into a wry smile. "A romantic love story, huh?" he muses, skepticism in his tone. "Do you really think anyone's going to believe that?"

Toto's gaze hardens at Lewis' flippant comment. "At this point, any narrative is better than the truth," he says, his voice firm. "We need to protect your image, Lewis, and the team's reputation. We need to control the damage, and that means spinning this in a way that… makes you both look as good as possible."

Y/n mutters under her breath as Toto and Lewis continue their discussion, unable to hide her growing concern. "My dad is going to kill me," she whispers, her voice a mixture of dread and resignation. She imagines her father's reaction to this news, the fury and disappointment in his eyes.

She finally speaks up, her mind turning to her own interests in this situation. "Wait," she interjects, cutting into Lewis and Toto's discussion. They both turn to her, surprised. "If we're going to go along with this… PR plan, I want something out of it too."

Toto and Lewis look at her, a bit taken aback by her unexpected request. Toto quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And what is it you want, exactly?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution.

Y/n takes a deep breath, her mind racing as she formulates her request. "I want this to benefit me too," she says, her tone firm but tentative. "I don't just want to be a pawn in this charade. I want my own image to be protected, and… I want it to have a positive impact on my future, on my family's company."

Toto and Lewis exchange glances, both surprised but also understanding the logic in her request. Lewis turns to her with slight admiration, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's… very practical of you," he says, his voice carrying a hint of respect.

Y/n's response is matter-of-fact, and her expression is a mix of determination and practicality. "Business is business," she repeats, her tone resolute. "If we're going to play this game, we might as well use it to our advantage, right?"

Toto nods slightly, appreciating her mercenary approach. "You're not wrong," he concedes, a grudging respect in his voice. "If we can use this situation to our mutual benefit, then perhaps it won't be a total disaster."

Lewis looks at Y/n, a gleam of admiration in his eyes at her business-mindedness. "You've got guts," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips. "I can respect that."

Y/n chuckles a bit at his comment, the humor beginning to shine through despite the seriousness of their situation. "Well," she says with a small laugh, "if you want to get technical, that is one reason we got married, isn't it?"

Toto glares at Y/n, his gaze is stern and reprimanding. Y/n's eyes widen in response, and she immediately feels a pang of regret, realizing she has spoken out of turn. She mutters a quick "Sorry, too soon," her voice a whisper as she shrinks down in her seat.

Toto sighs, his expression softening slightly. "Let's remain professional, please," he reminds her, his tone a bit weary. "We need you to be present at the next Grand Prix, okay? Because by then we'll have the PR statement announced. Lewis can send you the details."

Y/n nods, a bit chastened but also understanding. "Okay," she apologizes again, her voice sincere. "I'll check my schedule if I'm free on... whatever day that is."

Toto nods in acknowledgment, his expression is still weary but slightly less stern. He turns his attention back to Lewis and continues the discussion, the mood in the room now more serious and focused.

With the focus of the conversation now shifted to Lewis and Toto, Y/n pulls out her phone, sensing that she isn't needed in the immediate discussion. She scrolls through her phone, trying to distract herself from the ongoing conversation. Occasionally, she glances up, listening to bits and pieces of the talk, but mostly just biding her time.

Y/n scrolls through her Twitter feed, her eyes scanning over the various news and Tweets. Suddenly, something catches her eye, causing her to stand up from her seat and exclaim a surprised curse word.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Y/n exclaims, her voice laced with disbelief and shock. She stares down at her phone, the blood draining from her face as she processes whatever she has just seen.

Toto and Lewis' heads snap in her direction at the outburst. They look at her, startled and alarmed by her reaction. Toto's brow furrows in concern, and he asks, "What is it? What's wrong?"

Y/n holds out her phone to Toto, her face still etched with shock and disbelief. Toto takes the phone from her, his eyes widening as he looks at the screen. Lewis leans over to look as well, his expression turning serious as he reads whatever is on the screen.

Toto's jaw clenches as he looks at the image, his expression hard and guarded. He glances at Y/n, then back at the phone screen, seeming to be processing the implications of this photo.

Lewis shakes his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. "That's just perfect," he mutters sarcastically. "As if we didn't have enough to deal with already."

Toto continues scrolling through the tweet and reading comments from fans and media alike. He pauses, seeing several comments speculating that the woman in the photo is actually Y/n. His expression darkens with concern as he reads these comments.

He glances at Y/n, then at Lewis, and sighs deeply. "This is really bad," he says, his voice a low grumble. "If people start connecting the dots… we're going to have a PR nightmare on our hands."

Y/n is silently freaking out, her mind racing with thoughts and worries. She gnaws anxiously on her nails, a nervous habit she has when feeling overwhelmed.

Toto notes her distress but focuses on the practicalities of the situation for the moment, exchanging a few more words with Lewis.

Toto and Lewis quietly discuss the next steps, trying to come up with a damage control plan. Toto occasionally glances at Y/n, noticing her anxious behavior, but doesn't interrupt his conversation with Lewis for the moment.

Y/n suddenly pipes up, interrupting Toto and Lewis' conversation. "Wait," she interjects, her tone a bit frenzied. "What if we lied? What if… what if we said we've been married for almost a year? Like, we got married during the winter break?"

Toto's expression softens slightly as he contemplates Y/n's idea. "It's a possibility," he muses, his voice measured. "Getting married during the off-season would make sense, given the hectic schedule of the drivers. It would be more logical that Lewis would take time off for a wedding rather than a drunken elopement."

Lewis nods, seeing the logic in Y/n's suggestion. "It could work," he agrees, his tone less skeptical than before. "It would at least make the whole situation seem less impulsive and foolish, and more like… a planned commitment."

Y/n continues to gnaw anxiously on her nails, her eyes flitting between Toto and Lewis as she waits for them to make a decision. The weight of the situation, the impending lie they are about to concoct, hangs heavily on her mind.

Toto notices her distress but is still wrapped up in the discussion with Lewis, he decides to address it once they have a plan. "Let's work out the details," he says, his tone business-like. "We need to make sure our story is ironclad, and our timelines line up."

He turns to Y/n, his expression stern but not unsympathetic. "And I suggest you stop chewing on your nails," he remarks matter-of-factly. "We'll need to present a united, calm front, and that doesn't include nervous fidgeting."

Though Y/n stops biting her nails as Toto advises, her anxiety doesn't diminish. She transfers her nervous energy to her palms, starting to scratch and pick nervously at the skin, leaving slight crescent-shaped marks.

Toto notices her new anxious habit but doesn't address it directly at the moment. He and Lewis continue their discussion, fine-tuning the details of the lie they are going to spin. The atmosphere in the room remains tense, but there seems to be a rough plan coming together.

As the meeting draws to a close, Toto excuses himself to take a call from the head of PR. He motions for Y/n and Lewis to wait, and they remain silent in Toto's office as he steps out to take the call.

When Toto returns, he appears even more tense than before. He bids both Y/n and Lewis a rushed farewell, as he needs to deal with the situation with the head of PR. The two of them are left standing in the office, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of the day's events.

Lewis glances at Y/n, her face slightly pale and tired from the stress of the situation. He can tell that she's still anxious and tense, and he reaches out to gently squeeze her hand, offering a small gesture of comfort. "Hey," he says in a soft voice, "it's going to be okay. We're… we're going to get through this."

Y/n looks up at him, her eyes weary and full of worry. She tries to force a small smile, appreciating his attempt at reassurance. "I hope so," she replies, her voice a bit shaky. "I just… I hope we can pull this off. The lie…"

Lewis nods in understanding. "I know," he says, his tone sympathetic. "It's a lot to take on. But we don't have many options at this point. If we don't control the narrative, someone else will, and…" he trails off, the implication clear.

Y/n nods, knowing that he's right. "I get it," she mutters, her voice laced with resignation. "I just… I didn't sign up for all this, you know? All this… lying, and spinning stories, and… pretending."

Y/n lets out a humorless chuckle, her voice resigned. "You're telling me," she says sarcastically. "I didn't even sign up for this marriage, not while I was sober at least... and now I have to lie about it, pretend it was pre-planned, and… play the part of the dutiful wife."

She shakes her head, the absurdity of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders. "It's just… surreal," she continues her tone a mix of disbelief and frustration. "A few days ago, I was a private person, living my life, and now I'm suddenly… a married woman, the center of a media shitstorm, and I'm expected to lie about it all like it's no big deal."

As they walk down the halls, Y/n is still somewhat zoned out, her mind preoccupied with the stresses and worries of the day. Lewis is right beside her, his hand occasionally on her lower back, providing silent moral support. They pass by other team members and staff, and more than a few curious glances and whispers follow them, aware of the situation unfolding but unwilling to speak openly.

They reach the parking lot, and Lewis turns to Y/n, his expression concerned. "Do you want me to drive you home?" he asks gently, his tone sincere. "You look exhausted."

Y/n nods, her fatigue clearly visible in her eyes and demeanor. "Yeah," she replies, her voice a weary whisper. "That would be great, thanks. I'm… I'm feeling pretty wiped out."

Lewis nods in understanding and leads her towards his car. The trip to her home is mostly silent, both of them too emotionally drained to talk much. Lewis occasionally glances at her, checking if she is okay. Y/n just gazes out the window, her thoughts far away.

He follows the directions given by Y/n to her apartment. The car ride is quiet, neither of them speaking much due to the weight of the situation on their minds. Once they arrive at her apartment, Lewis parks the car but doesn't immediately get out. Instead, he turns to her, his expression a mixture of worry and concern.

Lewis watches as Y/n unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. Before she can open the door, he turns to her and asks, "You're going to be okay, right? You'll be okay alone? I can stay with you if you want."

Y/n offers a weary smile, touched by Lewis's concern. "I… I'll be fine," she assures him, her voice soft but strained. "You don't need to stay. I just… need some time to process all this. Alone."

Lewis accepts her decision to be alone, though his expression remains worried. "Okay," he says softly, "Take care of yourself, alright? And… call me if you need anything. Anytime, okay?"

She nods slightly, appreciating his offer. "Thanks, I will," she replies. "I'll… I'll be fine. I just need a bit of space to clear my head."

Y/n exits the car, her movements slow and weary. The weight of the situation seems to hang heavily on her shoulders as she stands outside her apartment, looking up at the building.

Lewis watches her from the driver's seat, a mixture of concern and sadness on his face. He waits a moment to make sure she gets inside safely before driving off.

July 8, Monday, 10:37 AM

As Y/n begins to unlock her apartment door, she hears the familiar sound of her cat meowing on the other side. The sound is both a comfort and a further reminder of her responsibilities, and she feels a pang of fondness mixed with exhaustion.

After unlocking the door, she pushes it open and is immediately met with the soft sound of her cat rubbing against her legs, meowing for attention. Y/n bends down and scoops up the cat in her arms, holding it close to her chest, seeking comfort in its presence.

She holds her cat “Extra Virgin Olive Oil” (“Evoo” for short) close, the familiar warmth and weight of her furry companion a soothing presence. The ridiculousness of the name, a result of yet another drunken decision, momentarily brings a bittersweet smile to her lips.

Y/n walks into the apartment, closing the door behind her and making her way to the living room. She sits down on the couch, setting her bag on the floor before setting Evoo down on her lap and gently stroking his white fur. The soothing motion and rhythmic purring of the cat help to calm her tumultuous thoughts.

As Y/n sits on the couch, gently stroking her cat, she begins to speak to him in a soft, quiet voice. Although it’s not unusual for people to talk to their pets, there’s an undertone of vulnerability in her words, unloading her worries to a receptive but silent companion.

“Hi, baby,” she begins, her voice laced with exhaustion. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.” She continues to idly pet the cat in her lap, the gentle motion seeming to soothe her as much as her cat. “I… I’ve gotten myself into a real mess, you know? Things are… complicated, to say the least.”

She leans her head back against the couch, her fingers continuing to absently run through the white cat’s fur. “I know you’re just a cat, and you probably don’t understand what I’m saying. But it helps, talking to you like this. It helps to get it all out, even if you can’t talk back.”

As Y/n continues to talk, the words flow out of her in a rushed confession. “And… that’s not even the craziest, Evoo,” she murmurs, shaking her head slightly. “I got married. Can you believe that?”

Her cat, as if responding to her words, looks up at her with its large eyes, seemingly bewildered by the revelation. It tilts its head as if asking “What?!”

Y/n lets out a soft, humorless chuckle at her cat’s reaction, continuing to stroke its fur. “Yeah, I know. It’s crazy, right?” she continues, her voice still heavy with exhaustion but holding a hint of irony. “I… I got married, and I don’t even remember most of it. Isn’t that just wild?”

She pushes aside her exhaustion and moves from the couch, placing Evoo gently on the nearby rug. She then remembers to change her cat’s water bowl, her actions automatic and routine. As she fills the bowl from the kitchen sink, she glances back at her cat, still resting on the rug.

“Don’t worry, bud,” she calls out, her voice slightly less weary, “He’s… he’s a good guy. I think.”

After refilling the water bowl, Y/n returns to the living room, her mind still swirling with the day’s events. She glances at Evoo, who is now lapping up the fresh water. For a moment, she wishes her life was as simple as a cat’s, where the most pressing concern was the next meal, not an unexpected marriage and a web of lies.

Y/n rubs his head one last time before straightening up. “Alright, buddy,” she says, her tone softer now that she’s attending to her cat’s needs. “I’m going to take a bath. Be a good boy while I’m gone, alright?”

She sits in the bathtub, the water warm and comforting, surrounding her tired body in a soothing embrace. An iPad is placed on a wooden bath tray near the edge of the tub, playing a movie that she’s only partially paying attention to.

In her hand, she holds a glass of lemon water, taking small sips every now and then as she there, letting the hot water work its relaxing magic.

The scent of lavender from a bath bomb fills the room, adding to the atmosphere of calm and tranquility. However, despite the peaceful setting, Y/n’s mind remains restless, the events of the day still weighing heavily on her thoughts. Despite trying to focus on the movie, she finds her mind wandering back to the marriage, the lie, the future.

As the stream from the bath billows around her, Y/n takes another small sip from her lemon water, her mind still spinning. The bath was intended to relax her, to wash away the tension of the day, but her thoughts stubbornly refused to let her rest. She tries to force herself to watch the movie, to focus on something other than her worries, but the events of the day keep flooding back.

The heat of the bath, combined with the subtle fragrance of the lavender, should be lulling her into a tranquil state, but her mind is too chaotic, too filled with worries and regrets. She takes another sip of her lemon water, the tangy taste reminding her of the sourness she feels inside, the unease that hasn't let her go since this whole mess began.

Y/n is wrapped in a towel, her wet hair sticking to her shoulders as she steps out of her bedroom and into the living/dining space. She's surprised to see Lyka walking in with a bright smile, a stark contrast to her own weary state.

Y/n, still wrapping the towel around herself, glances up at Lyka through wet strands of hair. "You seem unusually cheerful," she remarks, her tone slightly teasing as she reaches the kitchen and sets her glass down in the sink. Evoo brushes against her leg, seeking attention, and she gives the cat a gentle pat before turning back to Lyka. "What's up?"

Lyka's eyes sparkle with excitement and a hint of pride. "The best night ever," she echoes, her smile widening. "You won't believe it, Y/n. I hooked up with the DJ."

Y/n raises her brows in surprise and recognition. "Oh, Lando?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her tone. "I saw you dancing with him at the booth last night."

Lyka blinks in surprise when Y/n says Lando's name, her excitement now mixed with a touch of curiosity. "Yeah!- Wait, how do you know his name?" she asks, her expression a mix of surprise and intrigue.

Y/n settles onto a bar stool, opening the wrapper to a small piece of chocolate. She takes a small bite of the chocolate and continues talking to Lyka as she munches on the sweet treat. "I became friends with one of Lando's friends last night," she explains, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Her playful smile fades as the memory of her marriage hits her like a ton of bricks. She chokes mid-sentence, the taste of chocolate turning bitter in her mouth. "I... um..." she stutters, her mind racing to find a way to explain.

"I... I have something to tell you," she manages to continue, her voice a bit strained. She sets the chocolate bar down, her appetite suddenly gone. "And... it's kind of a big deal. Like, a really big deal."

Lyka's expression changes as she senses the seriousness in Y/n's tone. Her eyes widened slightly, and she leaned in, her face replaced by a look of concern. "What is it?" she asks, her voice low and worried.

Y/n takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the reaction that's about to follow. "I..." she starts, her voice faltering as she struggles to find the right words. "I... I got married."

There's a moment of stunned silence as Lyka processes Y/n's confession. Her eyes widen even further, and her hand grips the countertop, her knuckles turning white. "You... you what?" she manages to stutter out, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief.

"And... it may or may not have been a friend of Lando's...." Lyka's eyes widen even further when Y/n clarifies that the person she married is a friend of Lando. "Wait..." she starts, her mind spinning with the implications. "You married one of Lando's friends? Who..."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows hard, preparing herself for the fallout. "Lewis," she finally manages to say. "I... I married Lewis."

As Lyka tries to remember if Lando mentioned anything Lewis, a flicker of recognition appears in her eyes. "Wait..." she says, her soft soft as she recalls the conversation with Lando. "Lando mentioned something about a party of celebrate one of his friends' win. Was that Lewis?"

Y/n doesn't trust herself to speak, so she just nods in affirmation. She can see the pieces falling into place in Lyka's mind, her friend digesting the information with a mix of surprise and confusion.

Lyka lifts her hands in a gesture of disbelief, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and incredulity. "I swear, the universe has a weird sense of humor when it comes to you and alcohol," she says, shaking her head. "Seriously, the weirdest things happen to you when you're drunk. It's like you're attracting weirdness or something."

As Y/n gets up to change, she can't help but notice that Lyka is wearing a hoodie she doesn't recognize. She decides to bring it up later, as they have plenty to discuss when they regroup in the kitchen.

"Alright, let's change and meet here in five," Y/n suggests, her tone a bit lighter now. "We'll compare our crazy nights, and you can tell me about your new hoodie too," she adds with a smile.

Lyka flushes furiously as Y/n hints at the hoodie she's wearing, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "Oh my god, shut up," she giggles, trying to hide her embarrassment. "It's just a hoodie, okay?"

Y/n grins knowingly as she responds, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, it's Lando's hoodie," she teases, emphasizing the name for effect. "And you're blushing like crazy."

Lyka buries her face in her hands, still blushing profusely. "Ugh, I swear, you're the worst," she groans, half-heartedly swatting at Y/n "Why do you have to point it out like that?"

Y/n laughs, enjoying the sight of her flustered friend. "Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing," she says, her voice filled with amusement. She moves towards her room, still smiling at Lyka's reaction. "You get changed, and I'll do the same. Meet you in the kitchen in five."

Y/n sits next to Lyka, a soft smile on her face. As they settle into their seats by the counter, Lyka begins recounting her night with Lando. Her cheeks are still a little flushed, betraying her excitement.

"So, about last night..." she says, her voice slightly giddy, "I had the best night ever with Lando."

Y/n takes a chip from the bowl on the counter, chewing on it as she listens to her friend's story. "Yeah?" she prompts. encouraging Lyka to continue. "Tell me more. What made it the best night ever?"

Lyka emphasizes her point, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "His hands were skilled," she repeats, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Seriously, Y/n, you have no idea. He was so fucking good."

"His touches, his moves, everything just... wow," Lyka continues, the memory clearly relived in her mind. She takes a sip of her water, her gaze distant for a moment before she focuses on Y/n. "I swear, it was like he knew exactly what to do, and how to do it."

Lyka's excitement reaches a whole new level as she starting bouncing in her seat. "Oh my god," she exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and excitement. "When he was-" She suddenly breaks off, her words catching in her throat.

She cuts off her own sentence, biting her lip as if holding back a secret. There's a mixture of delight and surprise on her face. "He... he was just-" she stammers, struggling to put the experience into words. "It was incredible," she finally manages, her voice full of awe.

Y/n listens intently, smiling at her friend's enthusiasm. She can tell that whatever Lando did, it clearly surpassed Lyka's expectations. "Incredible, huh?" she teases, raising a brow. "Sounds like Lando's got some serious skills there."

Lyka takes a moment to fan herself, the memory of her night with Lando still fresh in her mind. "Yeah... yeah I was," she says, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I was shaking like a leaf by the time it was done."

She looks down at her hands as if reliving the sensation. "It was tense," she adds, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, seriously intense. I don't think I could have handled much more."

Lyka lets out a shaky breath, a mixture of pleasure and disbelief in her voice. "Yeah," she replies, her face still flushed. "He just... he just kept going, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore. It was... it was too much, but in the best way possible, you know?"

She takes another sip of her water, her body still feeling the after-effects of Lando's touches. "He knew exactly what he was doing," she adds, a hint of admiration in her voice. "I've never experienced anything like it before."

Y/n can't resist teasing a little more, a sly smile on her face. "Well," she says, raising a brow, "Maybe Lando was just making up for the disappointing performance your ex put on."

Lyka, still flushed and giggling, enthusiastically agrees with Y/n's assessment. "ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY!" she exclaims, her voice loud and clear. "Lando was the complete opposite of my ex. He made up for that shitshow tenfold."

She takes a moment to catch her breath, her face still glowing. She can't help but gush about Lando's attributes, her voice filled with awed excitement. "I swear, he was HUGE," she says, her voice filled with excitement.

Y/n laughs, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. "Shh, shh, keep it down," she shushes her friend, laughing as she glances toward the wall shared with their neighbors. "The whole building doesn't need to know about Lando's... size."

Lyka, still caught up in the memory of her night with Lando, continues to rave about his skills and his 'size' ''I don't even know how to describe it," she gushes, her voice filled with admiration. "There's just... no comparison. Lando's in a league of his own."

She's so caught up in her praise that she practically glows. "I never knew it could be like that," she admits, her flushed cheeks a clear indication of her satisfaction. "He knows how to handle everything."

Lyka's voice softens as she reflects on the night, her face now taking on a more tender expression. "He was so gentle and caring afterward," she says, a hint of fondness in her tone. "It was like he knew exactly what I needed."

Y/n, curious about the tender side of Lando, asks how exactly he was caring after their night together. Lyka's expression softens even more as she continues. "He was really sweet," she explains. "He held me close, and told me how amazing I was. Kept asking if I was okay, and if I needed anything. Just really took care of me, you know?"

"Oh, and he left me a shit ton of hickeys too," Lyka mentions, causing Y/n to involuntarily spit out her drink in surprise. Y/n's eyes widen as Lyka casually mentions that detail. She was taking a sip of her drink at the same moment, causing her to almost choke on the liquid, spurting it out in surprise. "Hickeys?" she exclaims, her voice slightly strained. "Lando gave you hickeys?"

Lyka grins widely, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She shifts the collar of her shirt to reveal several small, purplish marks on her collarbone and neck. "Yeah," she says, her voice a bit smug. "He marked me up, good."

Lyka lets out a cheeky giggle, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, yeah," she confirms, her voice slightly lower. "He left some on my thighs too, but Lando said those were for his eyes only."

Y/n can't help but stare at her friend in disbelief. Her mouth is still slightly agape, her eyes wide as she processes the information. "For his eyes only, huh?" she manages to say, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.

She shakes her head, a little bemused by Lando's possessiveness. "Sounds like Lando wants to keep you all to himself," she teases, grinning. "No sharing allowed."

Lyka grins, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, absolutely," she confirms, giggling. "We made a deal. He wants to be my friend with benefits," she says, using air quotes, "And I just have to look pretty and make him feel good." She adds with a coy smile, paraphrasing Lando's words.

Lyka brightens up even more, her voice eager and excited. "Oh, and I'm going to his next race too!" she exclaims, bouncing a little in her seat. "I'll be in the McLaren garage, of course. Lando said he wants me there."

Y/n nods, a smile on her face. "I'll be there too, slightly against my will," she confirms, "But I'll be in the Mercedes garage." She glances at her friend, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "This is gonna be fun, watching the race from opposite ends of the garage."

"So... what about your night?" Lyka asks curiously, looking at Y/n with amusement through her eyelashes.

Y/n takes a moment, her mind flashing back to the events of her night. "My night…" she muses, her voice a little dreamy. "Well, it was… eventful, to say the least."

She lets out a soft chuckle, the memory of the night still fresh in her mind. "So, I was on the dance floor, just dancing, and Lewis came up behind me," she recalls, her voice laced with a hint of excitement.

Y/n glances at Lyka before continuing, her voice taking on a wry tone. "Yeah, it was around the time you went to dance with Lando," she says, clearly amused by the coincidence. "Lewis just appeared out of nowhere, tapped me on the shoulder, and we started dancing."

She smiles, her cheeks slightly flushed as she describes the night. "We were talking, flirting a bit," she says, her voice holding a hint of excitement. "He bought me drinks at the bar, and we just… connected, I guess."

Y/n lets out a light laugh, her cheeks flushing a little at the memory. "Yeah, so… eventually… we may have found a secluded spot and, you know, things got a bit heated," she explains, a coy smile playing on her lips. "And I may or may not have told him I'd marry him as a joke."

She shakes her head, still amused by the audacity of her own words. "I don't even know where it came from," she says. "Just a spur-of-the-moment thing, you know? A little drunken banter."

Y/n continues, her voice filled with amusement. "Well, Lewis just chuckled when I said it," she recounts. "I mean, he knew I was just joking, right? But then he just… playfully agreed, you know? Like, he said something like, 'Sure, why not? Let's get hitched.' It was all just goofing around, really."

Y/n sees the look on Lyka's face and knows her friend is judging her, but it's in a friendly way. She laughs, shaking her head. "Hey, don't give me that look," she says, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "It was just a joke, you know that, right?"

Lyka gives Y/n a sly smile, her voice filled with mock disbelief. "A joke that turned into an actual marriage," she repeats, her tone dripping with cheeky sarcasm. "Wow, I hope Lewis doesn't mind waking up to your morning breath every day."

Y/n playfully smacks Lyka's arm, laughing. "Hey, my morning breath isn't that bad," she protests, her voice light with feigned offense.

She then swats at Lyka again, her smile broadening. "And for the record, I would make an amazing wife," she boasts, her voice half-joking, half-serious.

Y/n straightens her shoulders, posing theatrically. "I'd be, like, the perfect trophy wife. I'd look good standing next to Lewis during his press conferences and podium interviews."

Lyka laughs out loud at Y/n's confident declaration. "Oh my god," she snickers, her voice filled with mirth. "You're actually picturing yourself as a trophy wife? Standing there, looking pretty while Lewis talks about racing strategy and tire compounds?"

Y/n grins, raising a brow at Lyka. "And what about you?" she asks a hint of challenge in her voice. "Can you see yourself doing the same for Lando? Standing there, looking gorgeous, while he talks about car setup and track conditions?"

Lyka nods with conviction, a sparkle in her eyes. "Absolutely, yes," she affirms. "I can totally picture myself looking all cute and pretty, with a whole wardrobe of amazing outfits courtesy of Lando's earnings. It's all about the perks, you know?"

She grins mischievously. "Besides, watching Lando on the track, all focused and intense, and then coming home to spoil me rotten? Sounds pretty damn good to me."

Y/n nods, her lips curving into a smile. "You know what, you have a point there," she admits, her voice laced with a touch of envy. "Getting to watch Lewis race, all focused and competitive, and then having him come home and… well, show me just how much he appreciates me… yeah, I could get used to that."

She quirks an eyebrow, glancing at the calendar. "Alright, when's the next race again?" she asks, her voice slightly impatient. "I need to check if I'm free that day, cause Toto- his team principal, I believe? said that I have to be there. Some PR bullshit."

Y/n pulls out her phone, quickly searching for the race schedule. "Lemme see," she murmurs, scrolling through her screen. "There we go. The next race is two weeks from now... Let's see… yep, I'm free that day."

She puts her phone away, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "All clear," she affirms. "I'll be there, cheering on Lewis every lap of the way."

Lyka smirks, her voice dripping with playfully sarcastic praise. "Oh, you're such a good wife," she teases. "Making sure you're always available to support your husband's racing career. That's true devotion right there."

Y/n laughs, returning the teasing with a sly grin. "And what about you?" she asks, raising a brow. "Ready to be Lando's arm candy, showing off all those designer outfits he'll buy you?"

Lyka nods vigorously, her face already picturing the fancy outfits she'd wear. "Oh, absolutely," she declares, her voice oozing with enthusiasm. "I'm so ready to be Lando's arm candy, strutting around in all the gorgeous designer outfits he'll spoil me with."

Lyka takes a moment to swallow her chip and then adds, "And hey, speaking of Lando's stuff, I actually need to return that hoodie he lent me. Gotta make sure he gets it back."

She grins mischievously. "Although, maybe I'll 'accidentally' keep it a day or two longer just to remind him of me."

Y/n tsks, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Oh, wow," she chuckles, her tone laced with feigned surprise. "That's such harlot behavior, keeping a guy's hoodie just to remind him of yourself."

Lyka looks at Y/n in exaggerated shock, her mouth dropping open in mock offense. "Harlot? Really?" she exclaims, her voice filled with laughter. "Out of all the words you could've chosen, you went with harlot! That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"

Y/n shrugs, unable to keep a straight face. "What? It fits!" she replies, her voice laced with mirth. "You're deliberately keeping his hoodie longer just to keep his attention on you. If that isn’t harlot behavior, then I don't know what is."

Lyka rolls her eyes dramatically, a playful grin on her face. "Oh, please," she exclaims, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "It's not harlot behavior, it's strategic flirting. There's a difference."

Y/n chuckles, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay," she concedes, her voice still tinged with laughter. "You can call it whatever you want. Strategic flirting, friendly teasing, whatever floats your boat."

July 8, Monday, 4:51 PM

Y/n is in the middle of preparing dinner, peeling potatoes and chopping veggies, when her phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. She glances down at it curiously, setting down her knife for a moment.

After a few moments, Y/n finishes replying to Lewis' message, a small smile on her face. She sets down her phone, the conversation with Lewis momentarily distracting her from her cooking preparations.

Y/n continues chopping vegetables, her hands moving deftly as she's suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka's phone ringing. She stops for a moment, looking up as Lyka grabs her phone.

Lyka's face lights up with surprise as she answers the phone, hearing Lando's voice on the line. "Oh! Hey, Lando," she replies, her voice already cheerful.

Y/n can't help but smile at Lyka's reaction, hearing the change in her tone. She continues chopping vegetables as she listens to Lyka's side of the conversation.

Lyka's voice is filled with excitement as she responds to Lando's question. "Yes, I'll get the tickets for the flight myself," she confirms, her voice slightly giddy. "I'll be there by Friday, no problem."

Her face flushes with a rosy hue as Lando brings up the subject of his hoodie. She lets out a soft, nervous chuckle and replies, a hint of playful charm in her voice, "Ah, about the hoodie… Well, I was actually thinking I might hang onto it a little longer."

Y/n, unable to contain her amusement, lets out a soft giggle, drawing Lyka's attention. She glances at her friend, a sly smile on her face.

Lyka continues the conversation with Lando, her voice taking on a flirtatious tone as she playfully teases him. "You know, if you miss the hoodie that much, you'll just have to come and get it from me yourself…"

Y/n stops mid-preparation, her eyes widening as she eavesdrops on Lyka's conversation. She gapes at her friend for a brief moment, surprised by the boldness of her response.

She can't help but chuckle to herself, thinking, "Lyka's really turning on the charm. Lando's going to be all over her when he gets that hoodie back…"

Lyka continues the conversation, her voice dropping to a sultry tone. "It seems like you miss this hoodie more than you miss me, if you're that desperate to get your hoodie back, maybe we should meet up tomorrow…"

Lyka smiles widely as Lando agrees to meet up the next day. "Great, I'll send you my address in a moment," she replies, her voice a mix of anticipation. "I need to go now, though. But I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

Y/n watches the exchange with a mixture of amusement and surprise. She can't help but shake her head in disbelief as Lyka ends the call, a cheeky smile on her face.

"Wow," Y/n says, her voice filled with admiration. "You really have Lando wrapped around your finger, don't you?"

Lyka grins, her cheeks still flushed with a hint of a blush. "What can I say? I have my ways of persuasion," she replies, a coy smirk on her face.

Y/n laughs at Lyka's response, amused by her friend's confidence. She continues preparing dinner, adding the ingredients to the pot and stirring it together in the pot, her mind temporarily preoccupied as she focuses on her cooking task. The kitchen emits a warm, savory aroma, the spices blending together to create a mouthwatering scent.

Y/n is suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka spitting out her tea, accompanied by an annoyed meow from Evoo. She looks up, slightly startled, setting down her spoon to look over at her friend.

"Whoa, what happened?" Y/n asks, looking at Lyka, who's wiping her mouth with a napkin. Her eyes move to the cat, who's also looking slightly grumpy from the unexpected spray.

Lyka, still catching her breath, quickly points at Y/n's phone, which is on the kitchen counter. "Check your Instagram," she says urgently, a hint of excitement in her voice.

Y/n grabs her phone from the kitchen counter, a look of curiosity on her face. She swipes through her notifications and opens Instagram, as per Lyka's instruction.

Y/n scans through her Instagram timeline and her heart skips a beat as she catches the first article. The statement from Mercedes about her marriage to Lewis is plastered right on her screen. She reads through it, disbelief and surprise etched across her face.

mercedesf1

liked by lewishamilton, george_russell, lyka.val and 563,447 others mercedesamgf1 Following the recent victory at Silverstone, unauthorized images of one of our drivers and his private life have been leaked. We respect our driver’s privacy and are addressing the situation with the seriousness it deserves. Here’s Toto’s reaction to the matter.

user44 HE'S WHAT? FOR HOW LONG?

lewishamiltonfan446427 who the fuck is y/n.... ↳ george.jpg i just searched her up, she used to be a model! she's still active on social media so it isn't that hard to find her account

mercluvr I'M SORRY???

nepobbylver ms rabbit has fainted.

y/nfan1 I'M GOING INSANE??????????????????????????

lewis.hamiltons.gf does this mean i have to change my username...?

y/nfan2 WHEN DID THEY MEET WHAT

y/nfan3 WHEN WHERE WHAT HOW WHEN HUH

rockstarlewis this is some 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 shit dude

wtfmerc so it WAS y/n

A mix of emotions floods through her as she continues reading. She feels a wave of shock, followed by a pang of confusion. Y/n grips her phone tighter, her eyes glued to the words on the screen.

Y/n looks up from her phone, her voice quivering with surprise and a hint of concern. "I didn't know they were releasing this statement today," she replies, her words tinged with a mixture of confusion and anxiety.

Her voice becomes more frantic, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. "It was just an idea I pitched! The whole 'married for 6 months' thing- it wasn't supposed to be taken seriously, not this soon at least!"

She paces around the kitchen, her heart pounding with worry and uncertainty. "I never thought they'd actually make a statement about it without speaking to me first," she mutters, her voice betraying her growing anxiety.

As Y/n continues to pace anxiously, biting on her nails, Lyka takes action. She stands up from the counter and gently grasps Y/n's shoulders, trying to anchor her in the moment.

"Hey, hey," Lyka says in a soothing tone. "Take a deep breath, okay? Panicking isn't going to help the situation."

Y/n nods, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She takes a few deep breaths, letting the air fill her lungs and gradually slowing down her frenzied heartbeat.

Y/n is snapped out of her anxious thoughts as her phone rings loudly in her hand, jolting her back to reality. She glances down at the screen, wondering who could be calling her at this moment.

Her eyes widen as she sees her father's name on the caller ID. She stares at the screen for a moment, her mind swirling with thoughts. Taking another deep breath, she swipes to answer the call.

"Hello?" she says, her voice slightly shaky as she brings the phone to her ear.

She listens intently as her father's voice comes through the other end of the line, waiting anxiously for whatever he has to say. Y/n's father's voice is stern but concerned. "Y/n," he begins, "Have you seen the statement released by Mercedes?"

Y/n holds the phone a little tightly, her heart rate increasing again. "Dad," she begins, "Yes, I just saw it on Instagram. But listen, it's not what it seems-"

Her father's voice cuts her off, filled with disbelief and disappointment. "Not what it seems? It says you've been married to Lewis for 6 months. Explain that."

Y/n hesitates for a moment, her mind racing to come up with a viable explanation. Feeling cornered, she decides to go along with the lie, knowing that the truth will lead to even more disappointment and shame from her father.

"Okay, okay," she says, her voice quivering slightly. "Yes, it's true we got married. But Dad, please understand, it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing. We wanted to keep it quiet, that's why we didn't tell anyone right away…"

Y/n listens to her father's scolding, her heart sinking further with each question. "I know, I know," she responds, her voice filled with guilt and remorse. "I should have told you sooner. But Dad, you have to understand, Lewis and I wanted to keep things private at first. The public attention can be overwhelming, and we wanted to enjoy our newlywed bliss in peace…"

Y/n feels a lump form in her throat as she hears the disappointment in her father's voice. This is a first for her—she's never had to lie to her father before, and the guilt starts to weigh heavily on her heart. Fresh tears well up in her eyes, but she tries to maintain her composure on the phone.

Lyka sees the tears in Y/n's eyes and immediately takes notice, her face filled with concern. She walks over to her friend and starts rubbing her back soothingly, a silent show of support and solidarity.

Y/n's father continues to press, his tone slightly more subdued now, "And when can we meet Lewis? Your mother deserves to meet him as soon as possible. We can't just be finding out about your husband on social media, for goodness sake!"

Y/n swallows hard, the weight of the lie becoming more palpable. She racks her brain for an answer, trying to come up with a believable timeframe. "Uh, well, we're actually not together right now... he's still... with his family...," she says, her voice still shaky. "Maybe… Maybe this week? Or when their summer break begins?"

Her father remains silent for a moment, mulling over the proposed timeline. "Very well," he finally responds, his voice still edged with disappointment. "We'll plan something for next week then. I expect a proper introduction and explanation. No more secrets, understood?"

Y/n nods, even though her father can't see her. "Yes, Dad, understood. No more secrets," she mutters, her voice tinged with a mix of guilt and resignation.

After the call ends, Y/n closes her phone, a deep sigh escaping her lips. The weight of the lie and the disappointment from her father hang heavily on her shoulders. She feels like a guilty teenager all over again.

Lyka sees the distress etched on Y/n's face and quickly strides over to her, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting hug. "It's going to be okay," she whispers softly, trying to soothe her friend's troubled heart.

Y/n takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts and trying to rein in her emotions. She then looks over at Lyka, a newfound determination etched on her face. "I need to let Lewis know about the situation with my father," she says, her voice steadying slightly.

She swiftly opens her phone and navigates to Lewis' contact. She knows she needs to inform him about the recent turn of events. Her fingers grip the phone tighter as she starts typing a message to him.

Y/n closes her phone and sighs, her body still feeling the emotional toll from the conversation with her father. Seeing that Lyka has taken over the cooking, Y/n moves to a nearby chair and plops down, still mulling over the recent developments.

While sitting on the chair, she takes a moment to mentally process everything that has happened. Her mind is filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions - the lie, the need to maintain the facade, the guilt of deceiving her father, and the impending meeting with Lewis and her parents.

July 14th, 5:34 PM

The two sit in the car, the engine idling in the driveway of Y/n's childhood home. The atmosphere in the car is tense, and both of them are dreading the upcoming meeting with Y/n's parents.

She takes a deep breath, stealing a glance at Lewis before speaking up. "Okay, here's the plan," she begins, her voice a mixture of conviction and anxiety.

Y/n goes over the 'story' again, recapping the timeline of their 'relationship.' "We met during my vacation- your Christmas break of 2022, and became friends for about two months before you started courting me for three more months," she reminds Lewis. "We started dating after that, dated for five months, got engaged for around two months, and then got married in mid-January. Got it?"

Lewis nods, taking in the timeline and details of their fictional relationship. He's clearly trying to commit everything to memory, fully aware of the importance of maintaining a consistent story in front of Y/n's parents.

Y/n takes another deep breath, her hand fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Just remember, the key is to stay consistent and make it believable," she adds, her voice a tad shakier than before.

Lewis reaches out and takes Y/n's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We can do this," he says, his voice filled with determination and reassurance. "We just have to stick to the story and not let our nerves get the better of us."

Y/n nods, reassured by Lewis' words and the gentle squeeze of his hand. "You're right," she says, her voice steadier now. "Stick to the story, stay cool, and we'll get through this."

Lewis turns off the ignition, and the engine falls silent. Both of them unbuckle their seatbelts and get out of the car. Standing in the driveway, they take a moment to glance at each other, preparing themselves for the upcoming interaction.

Y/n's heart pounds in her chest as she and Lewis approach the front door. The familiar surroundings of her childhood home bring back a mixture of emotions—nostalgia, nervousness, and the weight of the lie they're about to perpetuate.

She reaches out and rings the doorbell, the sound echoing through the peaceful neighborhood. They wait for a few moments, the anticipation growing with each passing second.

The maid opens the door and greets Y/n and Lewis warmly. "Hello, welcome," she says with a friendly smile. "Your father is still in his study doing some paperwork and your mother is helping the chefs with the dishes. They should be finished soon."

Y/n thanks the maid and glances at Lewis, a hint of anxiety in her eyes. She leads him into the house, the familiar scent of her childhood home filling her nostrils.

She takes Lewis' hand and leads him into the living room. The spacious room is tastefully decorated with a mix of antique and modern furniture, a reflection of her family's taste and style. She guides him to a cozy sofa and motions for him to take a seat.

As they settle onto the sofa, the maid follows behind them and asks, "Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water, perhaps?"

Y/n turns to the maid and responds, her voice a bit tense. "I'll have cold water, please. Thank you."

She then turns to Lewis, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy despite her inner turmoil. "Would you like anything, Lewis? Water, coffee, tea…?"

Lewis looks at Y/n and then at the maid and replies, "I'll have tea, please. Thank you."

As the maid exits the living room Lewis sidles closer to Y/n on the sofa, draping an arm around her in a comforting gesture. He leans in and whispers something in her ear, his voice low and barely audible to anyone else.

In a quiet voice, Lewis whispers to Y/n, "Are there any cameras in the living room?" He asks the question, his gaze subtly glancing around for any visible signs of surveillance equipment.

Y/n is slightly taken aback by Lewis' arm around her, but she collects herself quickly. In a hushed tone, she whispers back, "Yes, there are cameras. They're hidden in various spots around the room, my father has access to the cameras from his study."

Lewis places a soft kiss on Y/n's temple and then pulls her closer, his voice a low murmur. "I know, I probably should have asked for your permission before doing that, but I thought it might help our act. For all we know, your father could be watching us on those cameras at this very moment."

Y/n can feel her heart rate increase a bit at Lewis' proximity and his reasoning behind the kiss. She glances at the hidden cameras, a hint of nervousness in her eyes. She nods subtly, understanding the necessity of keeping up the act.

The two of them maintain their close position on the couch, trying to appear as a married couple who are comfortable in each other's company. Y/n glances around discreetly, wondering how her father is handling the surveillance footage.

Just as they are about to continue their conversation, the maid re-enters the living room, carrying a tray with their drinks. She sets the tray down on the coffee table in front of the sofa, placing a glass of cold water next to Y/n and a steaming cup of tea next to Lewis.

The maid arranges the drinks on the coffee table, the sound of the glass clinking against the tray cutting through the silence in the room. She then smiles politely at them before discretely exiting the living room again, leaving Y/n and Lewis alone with their beverages.

Y/n watches the maid exit, her heart rate slightly elevated. She picks up her glass and takes a small sip of water, her mind racing with a million thoughts. The sound of Lewis' tea cup being placed back on the coffee table breaks the silence, drawing her attention back to him.

As Y/n starts to bite her nail, Lewis reaches out and gently moves her hand away from her mouth, his gaze meeting hers with reassurance. "Hey," he whispers "It's going to be okay. I'm here with you, every step of the way. We'll get through this together, alright?"

The simple act of Lewis gently stopping her from biting her nail serves as a small anchor, bringing Y/n back from the edge of her nervousness. She glances at him, his steady presence offering a small sense of comfort. She nods subtly, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and anxiety.

Y/n's breathing remains somewhat labored, the anxiety still coursing through her. Lewis takes her hand in his and begins rubbing his thumb against hers, a soothing motion that seems to ease her nerves, if only a little.

As she gazes at their intertwined hands, her eyes move up to the rings and tattoos adorning Lewis' fingers. The sight of them adds another layer to their carefully crafted pretense, the evidence of her supposed marriage right there on display for anyone who looks closely enough.

Their moment is interrupted as Y/n's mother walks into the living room. Her mother's presence brings Y/n back to reality, and the nerves come rushing back. She straightens up immediately, letting go of Lewis' hand to brush off any dust on her shirt and pants.

Y/n's mother enters the living room, her eyes lighting up as she sees her daughter and Lewis sitting together on the sofa. A warm smile graces her lips as she approaches them. "Hello, you two," she greets them, her voice filled with genuine affection.

As Y/m/n approaches, Y/n rises from the sofa, her movement slightly jerky due to her nerves. She tries to force a smile, hoping to appear normal, but the tension in her body is palpable.

Lewis follows Y/n as she nods, his hand gently moving to rest on her back, a small comfort in the face of the inevitable confrontation with her father.

He extends his hand towards Y/n's mother, his demeanor is polite and friendly. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you in person," he says with a warm smile. Y/n watches the interaction, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

The introduction occurs, Lewis offering his hand in greeting and Y/n's mother shaking it warmly. Y/n stands nearby, the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears drowning out almost everything else.

As Lewis shakes her mother's hand and exchanges greetings, Y/n's heart pounds louder in her ears. Her eyes flicker between the two, the casual interaction between her mother and Lewis standing in stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions churning within her.

Y/n watches as Lewis engages in pleasantries with her mother, and the polite exchange is a far cry from the anxiety that grips Y/n's insides. The sound of their voices and the sight of their interaction blur into the background as Y/n struggles to keep herself together.

Y/m/n gestures towards the dining room, saying, "Follow me to the dining room, please. Your father will join us in about five minutes." With a nod, Y/n and Lewis follow silently behind her, the nerves tightening in Y/n's stomach.

Lewis takes Y/n's hand again, his touch providing a source of comfort in the midst of the mounting tension. With a subtle gesture, he begins rubbing his thumb against hers, offering a silent reassurance.

The gentle, soothing motion of Lewis rubbing her thumb helps to ground Y/n, and the simple action is a small balm against the anxiety that threatens to consume her. She glances at him, silently expressing her gratitude through her eyes.

They enter the dining room, and Lewis takes a seat next to Y/n, his presence a silent comfort. Y/n sits down across from her mother, leaving her father's chair vacant. The sight of the empty chair sends a jolt of anxiety through Y/n, her palms beginning to sweat.

Y/n sits across from her mother, her eyes darting to the empty chair that her father is bound to occupy shortly. The sight of the vacant seat is a ghost of the man who is about to confront the facade they've created. Y/n's palms begin to sweat, and the nervous energy builds rapidly within her.

The silence in the dining room is nearly deafening. Y/n's mother makes small talk, but Y/n's mind is elsewhere, consumed by the impending arrival of her father. She glances again at the empty chair, the seconds ticking by like hours as they wait for him to join them.

The wait seems endless, Y/n's mother's attempts at small talk falling on deaf ears as Y/n's mind races with thoughts. Every sound seems magnified, and every breath echoes. The empty chair looms over the table like a storm cloud, its absence speaking louder than any words could.

It seems almost too well-timed. Just as the silence is about to become unbearably awkward, the butlers enter the room, gracefully serving the meals that have been prepared. The aroma of the food fills the air, but Y/n's stomach is in knots, the thought of eating almost impossible.

As they express gratitude to the butlers, Y/n's father proceeds to place food on his plate, his hands moving deftly. Still in the midst of his task, he begins to ask questions, his voice laced with authority and curiosity.

Y/n's father continues to plate his food as he asks questions, his words almost nonchalant, but his tone hinting at hidden scrutiny. "So, Lewis, how did you and Y/n meet?"

Lewis responds calmly to Y/n's father's question, his tone matter-of-fact. "We met back in 2022, during Y/n's Christmas vacation," he says. "It was a coincidence, really. We just sorta bumped into each other and started talking."

Her father nods, seemingly taking in the information, still focused on loading food onto his plate. His next question comes with a hint of intensity, "And when did you decide to get married?"

Y/n's father's question about their marriage takes her slightly off-guard. As her mind races, she accidentally drops her spoon, the metallic clatter bouncing off the walls of the quiet dining room. Her heart sinks, the unexpected question leaving her feeling even more exposed.

Y/n apologizes for the dropped spoon, her voice a bit shaky. Lewis takes over, answering her father's question calmly. "We decided to get married after being engaged for two months," he explains. "We actually got married right before the off-season started. It was quite a whirlwind, to be honest."

Y/n's mother interjects, curious about the term 'off-season.' "What do you mean by off-season?" she asks, her tone casually curious.

Lewis responds to Y/n's mother's question, his tone casually informative. "The off-season is sort of like Christmas break," he says. "It's the time of year when school is out, and everything kind of slows down for a while."

Y/n's mother nods, absorbing the explanation, and then proceeds to take a bite of her food. She seems reasonably content with the answer, her focus shifting back to her meal.

Y/n's father, seemingly unsatisfied with the previous answers, resumes asking his questions. His gaze remains fixed on a spoonful of soup, but his voice drips with a sense of authoritative interrogation.

He continues to question Lewis, his eyes focused on his bowl of soup as his voice pierces the air. "So, you're an athlete, correct?" he asks, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer.

Lewis nods in confirmation, his demeanor still poised. "Yes, I am," he answers, his response firm.

Y/n's father persists with his questions, delving into practicalities. "How are you going to provide for Y/n when you're constantly traveling and training?" he probes, his tone skeptical.

Y/n's mother chimes in, gently nudging her husband and scolding him playfully. "Darling, you're acting as if Lewis is going to be your personal assistant," she admonishes, adding a little humor to the conversation.

Lewis chuckles lightly, finding a bit of humor in the situation. Y/n, on the other hand, lets out a somewhat awkward laugh, the tension still palpable beneath the facade of casual banter.

He responds to her father's question, his tone confident. "I have a well-established career, sir," he says. "I'm well-paid, and I can certainly provide for Y/n and any future family we might have."

As Lewis mentions potentially having a family, Y/n is caught off-guard and inadvertently causes herself to cough, the water going down the wrong pipe. She quickly composes herself while both their parents look at her in concern.

While Y/n recovers from her coughing fit, Lewis gently pats her back, a look of concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.

Y/n responds nervously, her voice a bit shaky. "Yeah, I'm fine," she reassures, trying to brush off the incident, her eyes darting between Lewis, her parents, and the water in her glass.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone light yet curious. "So, have you two thought about how big of a family you'd like to have?" she inquires, her eyes flitting between Lewis and Y/n.

Lewis expresses his thoughts on starting a family, his voice filled with warmth and optimism. "I'd really like a big family," he admits, "maybe 2-3 kids or more, and a few pets too. But ultimately, it'll be Y/n's call since she'll be the one carrying and giving birth to the children." He smiles affectionately at her, adding, "It's her decision, and I'll support whatever she chooses."

Y/n's gaze softens, her heart warmed by Lewis's words. Despite the awkward family setting, the way he looks at her, coupled with his last statement, touches her deeply. It's a small but significant gesture, emphasizing his support and understanding, something she didn't fully anticipate.

Y/n's father nods in approval, clearly satisfied with Lewis's response. "Good man," he remarks, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind Lewis's words. "Always considerate of your wife's feelings, as you should be."

As Y/n's father praises Lewis, a sigh of relief escapes her lips. The approval from her father seems to ease some of the tension, and she shoots Lewis a grateful glance, silently expressing her relief.

Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone casual but slightly concerned. "Have you two thought about moving in together soon?" she asks. "I recall Y/n mentioning she's still staying with Lyka."

Y/n responds, her voice laced with a hint of anxiety, explaining the reasons behind their decision. "We haven't moved in together yet," she begins, "due to Lewis's job. With him traveling all over the world for most of the year, it would be quite lonely for me. I have some of my stuff at his place, but we agreed that I'll stay with him when he's home and stay at my apartment with Lyka when he's away."

The explanation seems to make sense to both Y/n's parents and her father nods in understanding. He seems to comprehend the challenges that come with Lewis's job, and the reasoning behind their living arrangement makes sense in their circumstances.

The dinner gradually comes to an end, and Y/n and Lewis bid farewell to her parents. There's a sense of relief in the air, mixed with a hint of lingering tension. As they part ways, Y/n's mother gives them both a warm smile, while her father offers a firm nod.

"Thanks," she says, smiling at his gesture, appreciating the small act of chivalry. She pulls out her phone from her bag before taking a seat in the car, the soft leather of the seats molding to her body.

As Lewis closes the car door, Y/n notices Lyka's name popping up on her phone's screen. She taps on the answer button, the phone pressed to her ear. "Hello?" she says, her voice slightly weary.

Lyka's voice comes through the line, sounding a mix of anxious and excited. "H-hi," she greets, her tone bordering on the guilty, like a child trying to conceal their mischief.

Y/n listens to Lyka's nervous greeting and responds, curiosity in her voice. "What's up?" she asks, setting the phone on speaker and placing it on the dash. Just as she does so, Lewis gets into the car, and they both focus on the now-speaker conversation.

Lyka's voice, sounding a bit unsure, asks, "Are you heading home now?" The question lingers in the air, suggesting that there may be something on Lyka's mind.

Y/n shoots Lewis a glance, their eyes meeting briefly as he maneuvers the car out of the gates. She's silent for a moment, contemplating Lyka's request and the implications of staying over at Lewis's place tonight.

Y/n turns her attention to Lewis, asking the question aloud, even though he had already overheard the conversation. She takes the phone off the dashboard, holding it in her hand as she speaks, her voice quieter than before. "Lyka's asking if I can stay over at your place tonight because Lando is a bit too drunk to go home."

Lewis responds, keeping his focus on the road, his voice calm and unwavering. "Sure," he says, seeming amenable to the idea. "You can stay over at my place tonight."

She relays the response to Lyka, conveying the okay from Lewis. "Okay," she says, her voice a bit lighter now. "I can stay at Lewis's place tonight."

Lyka's voice comes through the phone, brimming with gratitude and a hint of apology. "Thank you so much," she expresses, her tone sincere. "I'm really sorry for the sudden request. We just, uh…" Her voice trails off, leaving the rest unspoken.

Y/n chuckles, still on the phone with Lyka, and teases her gently. "Yeah, yeah, just make sure you take care of your 'boyfriend,'" she says, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "I'll be with Lewis."

Lyka's embarrassed screech comes through the phone, her voice full of flustered denial. "DUDE, SHUT UP!" she practically yells, her annoyance tinged with a hint of humor. "HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!"

Y/n responds, a playful tone in her voice. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Lyka," she teases. "You can tell that to the flowers he's been sending you every day." Her tone takes on a mock serious note. "Anyways, I've gotta go now."

Lyka's frustrated scream comes through the line, her voice muffled as she probably covers her face with her hands. Y/n laughs, having heard this reaction countless times over the years, knowing it's a clear sign of Lyka's embarrassment. "Bye," Lyka manages to say, her voice still tinged with flusteredness before ending the call.

Y/n looks at her phone, opening the text messages app to find the flurry of texts Lyka sent just moments ago before the call. Her eyes scan over the screen, curious to see what kind of messages her flustered best friend sent, no doubt venting about what was happening.

Lewis breaks the brief silence that had settled in the car, starting with a casual, "So…" His tone is conversational, suggesting he has something to talk about. He keeps his focus on the road, but his voice is filled with curiosity and a hint of anticipation.

Y/n sighs, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and uncertainty. She closes her phone screen, resting it on her lap before responding. "Honestly, I'm not even sure," she admits, her tone reflecting a hint of frustration at her friends' complex relationship.

Y/n tries to explain the complicated nature of Lyka and Lando's relationship, her voice trying to convey the complexity of it all. "They're more than friends, but less than lovers," she clarifies, her tone thoughtful. "It's a bit confusing, really. They're stuck somewhere in between."

Lewis chuckles, reflecting on the implications of the "stuck in between" situation. He offers a playful observation. "Well, that could go one of two ways, right?" he muses. "Either it's really good, or really bad."

Y/n smirks, agreeing with Lewis's assessment. "Yeah, you're right," she concedes, her voice hinting at the complexities of Lyka and Lando's dynamics. "It's either going to work out amazingly or explode in their faces."

The car falls back into a moment of silence, the low hum of the engine filling the space. Lewis keeps driving, his focus on the road, his mind likely contemplating the complexities of relationships and the uncertainty of the future.

Y/n breaks the silence again, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation. "Uh…" she begins, her tone a bit uncertain, but there's a question lingering behind it.

Y/n's voice softens with gratitude as she addresses Lewis, her tone sincere. "Thanks," she says, her appreciation evident. "For, you know, not making a big deal about me staying over."

Y/n's voice takes on a more grateful tone, her appreciation clear. "And thank you for saving my ass at the dinner," she says, a hint of relief in her voice. "I really appreciate you having my back."

Lewis responds with a warm smile, his tone easy and hospitable. "It's no problem, sweetheart," he says. "You're always welcome at my place, even when I'm not around. I'll give you a key soon so you can come and go as you please."

Y/n turns her head swiftly, her gaze now locked on him. She repeats his term of endearment, "Sweetheart?" Her voice is tinged with a hint of surprise, her head slightly tilted to the side as she processes the familiarity of the word coming from his lips.

Lewis's eyes widen momentarily upon hearing her question, clearly surprised by the inquiry. He quickly recovers and responds, his tone questioning yet gentle, "Oh, is it okay if I call you that?" His voice carries a note of concern, clearly wanting to ensure he hasn't crossed any boundaries.

She lets out a soft laugh, the tension easing away. "Yeah, it's fine," she assures him, her tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "It's actually better that way. I won't be caught off guard when you call me that in public. It'll make our act more believable for the press."

Lewis nods, the concern in his eyes replaced by a hint of relief and a touch of playfulness. "That's true," he agrees, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It'll make it more convincing when we're around people. Plus, it's kind of nice…" His voice trails off, a slight implication behind his words.

A smile dances on Y/n’s lips, and she decides to tease him a bit. “Oh really? I feel like you have a big crush on me Sir Lewis,” she asks, feigning surprise, her tone lighthearted. Her eyes glimmer with playfulness, expecting him to respond with a playful banter.

His voice takes on a playfully challenging tone as he responds to Y/n’s teasing question. “And what if I do?” he says, his eyes briefly meeting hers before turning back to the road. “What would you do about it?” There’s a hint of a challenge in his tone but also a flicker of genuine curiosity, as if he’s eager to see how she would react if her teasing was based on truth.

Y/n responds with confidence, her eyes locked into his. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she says, her tone dripping with a hint of mystery. Her voice drops lower, filled with playful tease, as if she’s already planning something.

Lewis raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued by Y/n’s response. He can’t help but wonder what kind of ideas she has in mind. “Oh yeah? And what ideas do you have in that pretty mind of yours, sweetheart?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.

Her smile widens, her eyes glimmering mischievously. She remains coy, not revealing too much. “Oh, I can’t give away all my secrets,” she teases, her voice playful. “You’ll have to wait and find out.”

Lewis chuckles, enjoying the banter between them. "Fair enough," he responds, his tone playful. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see what you have up your sleeve, sweetheart."

Y/n smirks at the term of endearment, the name rolling off his tongue with a familiar ease. "Oh, you'll see," she teases back, her voice filled with confidence. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

Lewis brings the car into the parking lot of the condominium building, the wheels smoothly coming to a stop. He turns off the engine, the sound of the vehicle falling silent as he shifts his gaze over to Y/n sitting next to him.

"We're here," he announces, his tone casual. He unbuckles his seatbelt and glances over at Y/n. "Ready to head inside?"

Y/n nods, the teasing banter settling into a comfortable quiet. She unbuckles her own seatbelt and prepares to get out of the car. "Yeah, let's go."

Lewis opens the car door and steps out, stretching briefly before closing the door behind him. He then walks over to Y/n's side and opens the passenger door for her, offering his hand to help her out of the car.

She smiles appreciatively, taking his hand and stepping out of the car. "Thank you," she says, her voice tinged with gratefulness. She then follows him as they head towards the entrance of the condominium building.

As they walk into Lewis's penthouse, the faint sound of a low thumping becomes perceptible. Y/n glances around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. She looks over at Lewis, a quizzical expression on her face, silently asking if he hears it too.

Lewis catches Y/n's curious look and can't help but smile to himself, fully aware of what's about to occur. He says nothing for a moment, amused by the fact that she hasn't figured it out yet.

Out of nowhere, a chubby bulldog appears, sprinting toward Lewis with excitement. Its short, muscular legs carry it swiftly across the floor, its paws creating a thumping sound as they hit the ground. The bulldog clearly recognizes its owner and makes a beeline straight for him, tail wagging joyfully.

Lewis crouches down to meet Roscoe, his face breaking into a wide smile as the dog happily rolls onto his belly, begging for some attention. Lewis laughs and begins to scratch the dog's belly, his fingers rubbing the animal's belly fur affectionately.

"Hey, buddy," Lewis coos affectionately, his voice filled with warmth as he speaks to Roscoe. "Did you miss me?" The bulldog responds with a slobbery grin and continues to wiggle his short, stub tail on the floor in bliss.

Roscoe looks up at Lewis with big, soulful eyes, his tongue hanging out, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of his owner. He playfully licks Lewis's hand, expressing his happiness in the only way he knows how.

Roscoe, in the middle of his display of excitement towards Lewis, suddenly halts, his furry head tilting to the side as he notices Y/n's presence. His wide eyes focus on her, his gaze inquisitive and a little cautious, as if wondering who this new person in his home is.

Y/n stands there, a mix of surprise and uncertainty on her face, not quite knowing how to greet the curious bulldog. She looks over at Lewis, silently seeking some guidance on how to approach his pet.

He notices the change in Roscoe's behavior and the puzzled look on Y/n's face. He stands up and gestures for her to come closer, a reassuring smile on his face. "It's okay," he says, his tone comforting. "He's just curious. Come closer."

Y/n steps closer, her nerves palpable as she admits to Lewis that she isn't particularly fond of dogs. "Um, is this a good time to say I'm not really a dog person?" she mumbles, her voice tinged with slight unease.

Lewis chuckles, a mix of amusement and understanding in his eyes. He glances down at Roscoe, who is still sitting and watching Y/n intently. "Oh, really? Well, that might be a problem," he teases jokingly.

She cautiously moves closer and gives Roscoe a tentative pat on the head, her touch light and tentative. The bulldog responds by closing his eyes in the pleasure of the unexpected attention, his stumpy tail wagging once again as he basks in the affection.

Lewis watches the interaction and smiles, finding the scene amusing yet endearing. "See?" he says, his voice encouraging. "He likes you already."

He stands up, motioning for Y/n to follow him into the kitchen. "C'mon," he says, gesturing towards the kitchen. "I'll grab us some drinks."

Y/n follows Lewis into the kitchen, her face transforming into a surprised smile as she asks a question. "Why do we need drinks?" There's a hint of curiosity in her voice, as if she's secretly hoping for a particular reason.

Lewis uncorks the bottle, taking out two wine glasses from the overhead cabinet. As he pours the wine into the glasses, he glances over at Y/n, his eyes holding a playful twinkle. "Besides," he says, a sly smile on his lips, "we need to celebrate our marriage properly, don't we?"

He passes a wine glass to her, his fingertips lightly brushing against hers for a moment as he does so. The atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly feels a tad heated as the implications of his words hang in the air between them.

Y/n takes the offered glass, her heart skipping a beat as their fingers touch briefly. The look in his eyes and the undercurrent of flirtation in his tone are hard to ignore. The words "we need to celebrate our marriage properly" echo in her head, causing a flutter of anticipation in her stomach.

Lewis pours himself a glass of wine, then pours another for Y/n as she settles into her seat. He moves around the counter, the wine glass in his hand, and takes a seat next to her. The silence is comfortable, but the air is charged with a simmering tension, the earlier flirtation not yet faded.

Y/n holds up her wine glass, lifting it slightly in his direction. "Cheers," she says, her voice carrying a note of excitement. The clinking sound of their glasses meeting fills the air, the act oddly intimate and charged with unspoken desires.

Their eyes meet over the rims of their glasses, the moment charged with a mix of tension and anticipation. Y/n takes a sip of her wine, the liquid smooth and cool as it touches her lips, but it's the man sitting next to her that leaves her feeling flushed and warm.

Time has passed, and the wine has taken its toll. Both Y/n and Lewis are visibly tipsy, their cheeks flushed and their inhibitions lowered. She finds herself in a slightly drunken state, her speech more slurry than Lewis's. They're exchanging stories, the wine loosening their tongues and making them more susceptible to sharing their secrets and embarrassing anecdotes.

Y/n continues her story, her voice a bit slurry from the wine but filled with amusement. "So, there I was, planning to go grocery shopping, right? But then Lyka calls and invites me out for drinks. And well, as you can imagine, one drink turns into several, and the next thing I know, it's been three hours. I completely forgot about the grocery shopping. Then, instead of coming home with actual groceries, I end up bringing home this stray white cat I found. And thus, my cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil was born."

Lewis can't help but chuckle lightly as he listens to Y/n's story, finding it both absurd and endearing. He leans his face against his palm, his elbow propped up on the counter, his eyes sparkling with tipsy amusement. He glances at her, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "You named your cat what?" he asks, his voice tinged with playful disbelief.

His laughter continues, the image of Y/n coming home with a cat instead of groceries amusing him more than it probably should in his current state of drunkenness. "You named your cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil because you forgot about grocery shopping and got drunk instead?" he asks, grinning widely, clearly finding the situation hilarious.

Y/n grins widely, nodding enthusiastically in affirmation. "Yep, that's right," she says, her voice filled with tipsy mirth. "Extra Virgin Olive Oil. And let me tell you, he's the most spoiled cat ever. All because I couldn't stick to my grocery shopping plans."

She feels a sudden brush of fur against her leg, her gaze dropping down. But before she can even react, Roscoe takes off like a shot, darting away with one of her high heels clenched in his mouth. Y/n's eyes widen, and a tipsy laugh escapes her lips.

Y/n jumps out of her seat, a tipsy grin on her face. "Roscoe!" she yells, giggling as she tries to catch the dog who's now prancing away with her high heel. Lewis watches the scene unfold, his laughter joining hers, finding the whole situation hilariously adorable.

Y/n's pursuit of Roscoe continues, her steps a bit unsteady from the alcohol. She tries to catch him, but her foot catches on the edge of the rug, her already tipsy balance getting the better of her. She trips over, her body stumbling forward, a yelp of surprise escaping her.

Lewis sees Y/n's fall, her carefree chase after the dog abruptly interrupted by her slip on the rug. He gets up from his seat, a slight worry crossing his face. But before he can make a move, Y/n raises an arm up from the floor, and yells out, "I'm okay!" Her voice is slightly slurred but there's a sense of pride in her tone, as if she's proud of her resilient demeanor despite her tipsy state.

As she stands up with a wide smile on her face, she doesn't realize the small cut on her elbow until Lewis points it out. Y/n glances down, noticing the slight trickle of blood on her arm. She touches the spot, a little surprised, but the alcohol has numbed the pain, giving her a false sense of invincibility. She giggles, looking at the cut with amused detachment.

Despite her stumble and the small cut on her elbow, Y/n's demeanor remains carefree, her eyes blinking in a slightly confused manner. The alcohol has dulled her senses, so pain feels distant and the reality of the fall hasn't quite registered in her mind yet. She looks up at Lewis, a slightly bewildered expression on her face as if she's not quite sure how she ended up on the floor in the first place.

Lewis lets out a small, playful exhale and saunters over to Y/n, gesturing for her to sit on the couch. "Alright, come on, sit down," he instructs, his voice laced with a hint of amused frustration. He guides her over to the couch, steadying her a bit as she clumsily flops down onto the cushions.

He turns away, giving her a warm smile, and says, "Okay, sit tight. I'll be right back. I'll get a bandage for that cut on your elbow." He strides out of the room, leaving Y/n slumped on the couch, a little drunk and a bit bewildered.

Y/n lounges on the couch in a slightly disheveled manner, her body stretched out like a starfish. She looks like a ragdoll, her limbs flung about in a completely comfortable yet chaotic way. The alcohol has made her feel relaxed and carefree, completely unbothered by the fact that she's lying haphazardly on the couch, waiting for Lewis to return with a bandage for her now-forgotten cut.

After 5 minutes, Lewis enters the room carrying a small first-aid kit. He looks over at Y/n, noticing that she's a bit more composed compared to a few moments ago. The alcohol's effect seems to have subsided a bit, perhaps due to the short break in time. He walks over to her, sitting down on the couch next to her, the first-aid Kit in his hand.

"Seems like you're getting a bit more sober now," he observes, his tone gentle as he opens the first-aid kit. He takes out an antiseptic wipe and a small adhesive bandage, preparing to clean and cover the cut on her elbow.

"Hold still for a moment," he says, his voice soft. He gently takes her arm and begins cleaning the wound with the antiseptic wipe. The cool touch of the solution stings a little, but he's careful not to cause her any unnecessary pain.

Y/n winces a bit as the antiseptic wipe touches the cut, a small "ow" escaping her lips. The alcohol has numbed her a bit, but the sting of the antiseptic still registers. She looks at her arm, watching as Lewis carefully cleans the cut, his touch light yet deliberate.

"It's alright," he soothes, his tone gentle. "I'm almost done." He continues to clean the cut, making sure it's free of any dirt or debris before gently placing the bandaid over the cut. His touch is light and careful, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her arm.

Once the bandaid is placed, he gently pats the area around the cut, securing it in place. He then releases her arm, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. He looks up at her, a small, reassuring smile on his lips.

Y/n gazes at Lewis, her eyes studying his face intently. She takes in every detail - the curve of his lips, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the slight stubble on his chin. The alcohol still in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more observant. She continues to stare at him, not saying a word.

Lewis notices Y/n's unwavering gaze, her eyes taking in every feature of his face. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. Seeing her silent observation, he jokingly asks, "Got something on my face?" His voice is light, and his words are filled with humor.

Y/n shakes her head, continuing her silent observation, her gaze still fixated on his features. And then, in a surprising move, she leans forward, her lips brushing against his in a soft, slow kiss. The alcohol in her system lowers her inhibitions, making her actions more impulsive and carefree. The kiss is unexpected but filled with an undercurrent of desire and affection.

Lewis is taken aback for a moment, caught off guard by her unexpected kiss. But then, he relaxes into it, his eyes closing as he responds to her contact. His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. The kiss deepens, the alcohol in their systems making it heady and impulsive.

Y/n, emboldened by the alcohol and the heat of the moment, makes another bold move. Without breaking the kiss, she shifts her position, straddling his lap, a leg on either side of him. Her body presses against his, her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer as she continues kissing him, her actions driven by a combination of intoxication and desire.

She suddenly pulls away from the kiss, the reality of her actions sinking in. Her blush spreads across her face, a mixture of embarrassment and desire filling her. She looks at him, her eyes wide, her breathing slightly ragged from the intensity of the kiss. The alcohol in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more impetuous, but she still feels a mix of shyness and confusion at her own behavior.

Lewis looks at Y/n, a hint of confusion and surprise in his eyes. He gently cups her face with his hand, his thumb tracing the contour of her cheek. He asks her softly, "Why did you stop?" His voice is a mix of curiosity and tenderness, his gaze holding hers as he waits for her response.

Despite the buzz of alcohol in her system, Y/n hesitates, her actions and her desires at war within her. The kiss had been spontaneous, driven by a heady mixture of alcohol and desire, but now she feels a sense of self-consciousness and insecurity. Her blush deepens under his touch, and she looks into his eyes, trying to find the words to explain her sudden break in their intimate moment.

"I…I don't know," she stutters out, her voice small and unsure. "It's just…I don't know…" Her gaze flickers away from his, unable to hold his intense, questioning stare. The alcohol and the heat of the moment have made her impulsive, but now she feels exposed, vulnerable in her straddling position, her guard faltering under his soft but insistent touch.

Lewis gives her a reassuring smile, his hand still cupping her face. Seeing her hesitant, he gently draws her back towards him, his other hand coming up to rest on her hip. He pulls her down, bringing her face closer to his, and kisses her again, his lips pressing against hers with a soft but determined pressure. The kiss is slow, tender, and deliberate, his tongue slipping out to caress her lower lip, seeking more.

With a swift movement, Lewis stands up, still not breaking the kiss, his hands holding onto Y/n's thighs to keep her stable. The shift in positioning causes her to tighten her arms around his neck, and their bodies press even closer together. Lewis's grip is firm but gentle, his strength evident as he holds her up with ease, the kiss continuing unhindered.

He walks with purpose towards the bedroom door, his strength and balance holding Y/n securely in his arms. In a move that seems completely effortless, he keeps one hand on her thigh, supporting her weight, while his other free hand reaches out, unlocks the door, and swings it open. He strides across the threshold, carrying her into the room, the kiss never once breaking.

Inside the bedroom, he kicks the door closed behind them, shutting out the rest of the world. The only sounds filling the room are the soft gasps and sighs exchanged between them as the kiss deepens, fueled by a heady mixture of desire and alcohol. Lewis shifts his grip slightly, his hand sliding from her thigh to her waist, holding her steadily as he guides her towards the bed.

Lewis gently sets Y/n down on her feet, helping her regain her balance. Then, with a soft yet firm pressure on her shoulders, he eases her backward until she sits on the edge of the bed. He stands in front of her, his body looming over hers in a way that is both dominant and protective. He looks down at her, his gaze darkened with desire, his breathing slightly heavy.

With a subtle but deliberate action, Lewis's hand moves up to Y/n's neck, his fingers wrapping around the delicate skin in a light but firm grip. He squeezes gently, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to assert a sense of control and possessiveness. The kiss that follows is quick, fierce, and possessive, his tongue invading her mouth in a dominant, needy manner.

Y/n whimpers into the kiss, the sound caught between a protest and a moan of pleasure. Lewis's dominant grip on her neck, the way he claims her mouth in a possessive kiss, fuels the fire within her. Her hands come up to cling to his shoulders, the mixture of pleasure and submission washing over her in waves.

Too caught up in the intensity of the moment, she grips the loops of Lewis's pants, her fingers hooking onto them as if anchoring herself. The action is both needy and desperate, a silent plea for more as she looks up at him, her eyes burning with desire and anticipation.

Lewis glances down at Y/n, noticing her fingers gripping his pant loops, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. Teasingly, he leans down, his face close to hers, and whispers, "So needy, aren't you?" His voice is a low, gravelly murmur, his words carrying a hint of possessive satisfaction.

She looks up at Lewis with wide, innocent, doe-like eyes, her expression a mixture of need and submission. She doesn't respond, her voice caught in her throat, but her grip on his pant loops tightens just a fraction, her body silently begging for more. The contrast between her innocent gaze and her needy actions is striking, and the heat in her eyes speaks volumes.

Lewis continues to look down at her, his eyes taking in her beautiful, vulnerable expression. He reaches out a hand, tracing the line of her neck with his fingers, but the touch light is barely there. He can hear her soft, ragged breaths, can feel her pulse quickening under his touch, and his own need, his own desire, increases exponentially.

He leans in, his lips moving to her ear, his breath against her skin as he whispers, "You're so gorgeous like this, so needy for me." He kisses her ear, his lips moving down to her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, hot kisses down the delicate curve of her neck.

Lewis continues to kiss along her neck, his mouth nipping and sucking gently at her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her sweetness. His hands slide down her body, caressing her sides, his touch both tender and possessive, his own need growing with every soft sound that escapes her lips.

He bites gently at her pulse point, a small, possessive act that makes her gasp and whine softly. His hands move to the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the line of exposed skin, his touch both gentle and firm. "I want you," he whispers against her skin, his voice rough and full of desire, "so badly."

His hands slide underneath her shirt, his palms pressing against her skin, feeling her warmth and softness against his touch. He feels her shiver at the contact, her body responding to his touch like a perfectly tuned instrument. He kisses her collarbone, his mouth moving down to the hollow of her throat, his lips trailing along her skin with increasing need.

His hands move higher, his fingers tracing the contour of her stomach, her ribcage, her breasts. He feels her arch into his touch, her body craving more contact, more of his touch, his caress, his attention. He can feel her need, her desire, the way her breath hitches at his touch, and it only fuels his own fire, his own burning need for her.

Lewis pushes her gently back onto the bed, his body hovering over her, his weight propped up on his forearms. He looks down at her, his eyes roaming over her face, her body, taking in the sight of her beneath him, soft and yielding, yet filled with an undeniable fire and desire.

His fingers move to the buttons of her shirt, his touch slow and deliberate as he unfastens them one by one, revealing her bare skin inch by inch, his lips following the path of his fingers, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.

Y/n's breathing becomes ragged as Lewis' hands reach the last button, freeing her breasts from the confines of her shirt. She pushes the fabric off her shoulders, tossing it aside, her nipples hard and aching for his touch.

Lewis' hands cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples. Y/n moans, her head falling back as she arches into his touch. Her hands roam over his body, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

She slides her hand inside, gripping his erection through his boxers. Lewis groans, his hips bucking into her hand. Y/n pulls him closer, their lips meeting in a rushed kiss as she fumbles with his boxers, freeing his hard cock.

She strokes him slowly, her thumb rubbing over the head, making him moan into her mouth. Lewi's hands leave her breasts, training down her sides to her waistband. He hooks his thumbs into her pants, pulling them down her legs, leaving her completely naked.

Y/n steps out of her pants, her body trembling with desire. Lewis' eyes roam over her, drinking in the sight of her before he pulls her back against him. He reaches around, unfastening his braided belt, letting it fall to the floor.

He pushes her onto the bed, following her down, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, his hand guiding his cock to her entrance. Y/n's breath hitches, her legs parting, welcoming him.

Lewis positions himself at her entrance, his eyes locked on hers, filled with lust and desire. He pushes inside her, slowly at first, allowing her body to adjust to his size. Y/n gasps, her nails digging into the sheets as he fills her completely.

Y/n bites her lip, her eyes widening as she feels the full extent of Lewis' size. "Fuck, you're huge," she hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through her.

Lewis smirks, his hands gripping her hips as he begins to thrust, his rhythm slow and deliberate. "Like it sweetheart?" he growls, his voice deep and seductive.

Y/n nods, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusts to his size. "Yeah, I... I love it," she admits, her voice breathy and needy.

Lewis grins, his hand sliding around Y/n's neck, applying gentle pressure. "Good," he murmurs, his thrusts growing faster and more forceful.

Y/n's eyes widen at the added sensation, her body arching off the bed as her arousal intensifies. "Lewis," she whispers, her nails digging into his back, "don't stop."

He doesn't, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his hand tightening around her neck just enough to heighten her arousal. Y/n's moans grow louder, her body trembling in anticipation of her impending orgasm.

Y/n's voice is barely a whisper as she gasps, "I'm... I'm close, Lewis."

Lewis, however, is lost in the sensations, his focus solely on the feel of Y/n's tight, wet pussy wrapped around his cock. He continues to thrust, his hand still tightly around her neck, his body moving in perfect unison with hers.

Y/n's orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cries out, her nails digging into Lewis' bicep. Her walls clench around his cock, milking him as he continues to thrust.

Lewis' thrusts grow more erratic, his grip on Y/n's neck tightening as he feels her orgasm grip his cock. Her shaking only serves to fuel his desire, his release drawing near.

He pulls out of her, Y/n's protest cut off by the loss of his cock. He positions himself at her entrance once more, his cock glistening with her juices. "On your knees, sweetheart," he commands, his voice thick with lust.

Y/n obeys, her body still trembling as she gets onto her hands and knees. Lewis lines up his cock with her wet pussy, thrusting back inside her, this time from behind.

His hand leaves her neck, instead gripping her hair, pulling her head back as he begins fuck her with renewed vigor. Y/n's moans fill the room, her body responding to her every thrust,

Lewis' thrusts become more rushed, his breathing heavy. "You're such a good girl, taking my big cock like that," he praises, his voice thick with desire.

Y/n's body shudders, her arousal building once more as she feels him fill her from behind. "Mmm, Lewis," she moans, her voice thick with lust.

Lewis' hand tightens in her hair, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for me one more time," he says, voice a mixture of command and desire.

Y/n's body responds to his words, her orgasm building once more. "I... I'm close," she gasps, her nails digging into the bedsheets.

Lewis feels his own release building, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me," he demands, his cock pulsing inside her.

Y/n's body convulses, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. Lewis can no longer hold back, his cock pulsing as he releases his hot seed deep inside her. He collapses onto her back, his breathing heavy as he tries to regain his composure.

Her body shudders, her mind swimming in the aftermath of her orgasm. Lewis slowly pulls out of her, his cock leaving a trail of cum between her legs. He rolls off her, pulling her into his arms, their bodies entwined.

They lie there, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Both are out of breath, their hearts still racing from the intensity of the experience. Lewis is holding Y/n close, her head resting on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. The room is quiet, the only sound being their ragged breathing, the sound gradually slowing and evening out as they regain their composure.

Y/n breaks the silence, her voice a bit hoarse but weary. She looks up at Lewis, her head still pillowed on his chest, and says, "That sobered me up real fast." Her words are a mixture of exhaustion and satiation, the aftermath of their passionate encounter leaving her both depleted and fulfilled.

Lewis gives a soft laugh, his fingers still tracing patterns on her back. He nods, agreeing with her words. "I guess that's one way to sober up," he replies, his voice still a little breathless. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch soft and affectionate.

Y/n jokes, a weary but playful smile on her face. "Well," she says, "that was like our very own little honeymoon night, wasn't it?" Her comment, although lighthearted, carries a hint of seriousness, a nod to the intense and passionate connection they had just shared.

Lewis chuckles softly, a smile on his lips. He gently pulls her closer, his arms tightening around her. "I guess you could say that," he responds, his voice warm and gentle. "We definitely made some memories tonight." He looks down at her, his gaze filled with tenderness and affection.

Y/n hisses as she adjusts her position, a slight wince on her face. Her body is likely still sensitive from their passionate encounter, and she moves gingerly, trying to find a more comfortable position.

Lewis notices her hiss and the wince on her face, his expression immediately becoming one of concern. He asks her gently, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His voice is laced with worry and concern, his fingers lightly coming up to caress her cheek.

Y/n shakes her head, her eyes meeting his. "No, I'm alright," she reassures him. "Just a little sore, I guess. But it was worth it," she adds with a sleepy smile.

Lewis continues to look at her, his eyes searching her face for any signs of discomfort. He asks again, his voice filled with concern, "Are you sure you're alright? Soreness is normal, but I don't want to hurt you." He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and caring.

Y/n nods, a small smile on her face, and jokingly says, "Well, I guess there's an easy fix for that. Just take me out on a shopping spree, and I'll feel like a million bucks again." Her tone is light and humorous, indicating that she's not entirely serious but also hinting at her desire for some pampering and shopping therapy.

Without hesitation, Lewis reaches for the nightstand near the bed and grabs his wallet. He opens it and pulls out a credit card, then hands it to Y/n with a smile. "There," he says, his voice lighthearted, "your ticket to feeling a million bucks. Go wild."

Y/n's eyes widened as she took his credit card. She playfully gasps, a mischievous smile on her face. "Are you serious? You're giving me carte blanche with this?" she says, holding the card up and examining it like it's a precious gem.

Lewis nods, a smirk on his face. "Dead serious," he confirms, leaning back against the headboard. "Go nuts. Buy whatever you want, and don't hold back. It's on me."

Y/n places the credit card on the nightstand, her smile playful. "Oh, it can definitely wait till tomorrow," she says. "I think we should both rest and recover from tonight's… activities." Her tone is teasing, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction.

Lewis chuckles, a knowing smile on his face. "I agree," he replies, his voice deep and gravelly. "We definitely need some rest after tonight. But tomorrow…tomorrow is all yours. Shopping sprees, pampering, the works. I can't have you sore for too long, can I?"

Y/n smirks at his words, her eyes narrowing mischievously. "You know, you might be starting to regret giving me that credit card already," she teases. "You're creating a little monster here."

Lewis laughs heartily. "Oh, I'm fully aware of the monster I'm creating," he replies, still sporting a smile. "But honestly, I find it kind of hot. The thought of you going on a shopping spree, spending my money without a care in the world… it's strangely alluring."

Y/n teases, a mischievous grin on her face. "Oh, don't worry, I plan on getting something for you too," she says. "After all, a good shopping spree isn't complete without a little gift for the guy who's footing the bill."

Lewis pulls her back towards him, drawing her close against his chest. He settles back against the pillows, his arm wrapping around her in a protective, comforting embrace. Y/n's head rests against his chest, her body tucked snugly against his, and he gently kisses the top of her head. "Sweet dreams," he whispers, his voice soft and affectionate.

yn.ln

liked by lewishamilton, lyka.val, george_russell and 644,819 others yn.ln Shopping sprees, a hot best friend, and an even hotter husband? I'm winning. tagged lewishamilton, lyka.val

COMMENTS ARE LIMITED

lyka.val luv ya <3 ↳ yn.ln Love you more babes, remember to feed Evoo please :) ↳ lyka.val yes ma'am 🫡

lewishamilton We're both winners sweetheart. ↳ yn.ln Whatever you say, I'm enjoying it either way 😂

masterlist

taglist

@nepobbylver @wobblymug @seonghwaexile

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Father’s Embrace

word count: 733

Pairing: Toto Wolff x Wife!reader, ft. Jack

Summary: A peaceful day on the yacht brings Toto, Y/n, and their son Jack closer, as they share a heartfelt moment wrapped in the serenity of the ocean and the warmth of family love.

______________________________________________________________

The sun hung lazily in the sky, its warm golden rays spilling across the ocean's surface, casting glimmers that danced on the calm water. The gentle hum of the yacht's engine was soothing, a low murmur that blended seamlessly with the distant calls of seabirds. The air was filled with a quiet peace, the kind only found far from the bustle of their daily lives.

Toto sat with a soft smile playing on his lips, his arms wrapped protectively around their son, Jack, who had curled up into his chest, lulled by the rhythmic sway of the boat. His normally energetic little boy had been worn out by the sun and the excitement of the day. Jack's head rested against Toto’s chest, his small arms clutching his father, who wore his favorite white sweater. Toto’s sunglasses reflected the serene blue of the sea as he glanced out across the horizon, then down at Jack, his expression softening even more.

You leaned against the railing of the yacht, watching the two of them with a fond smile, the sight melting your heart. It wasn’t often that you saw Toto so still, so utterly at peace. He was always moving, always thinking, whether at the track or managing the pressures of his team. But here, in the quiet embrace of the ocean, with Jack asleep in his arms, he seemed to breathe a little easier.

“Mommy,” Jack had mumbled earlier before drifting off, his little body cocooned in warmth. You had smiled and kissed his head, the soft curls tickling your lips. Toto had reached out then, gently pulling you closer into their cocoon of warmth.

Now, as the yacht drifted along the coastline, you moved closer and sat beside them, your hand finding Toto’s. He squeezed it gently, a silent acknowledgment of the peace between you all. No words were needed—this moment spoke volumes. It was the kind of quiet joy that came from simply being together.

Toto turned slightly to meet your gaze, the sunlight catching his eyes behind his reflective glasses. “He’s out like a light,” he whispered with a grin, careful not to wake Jack. His other hand stroked Jack’s hair absentmindedly, the gesture so full of love and tenderness that it made your heart swell.

“He had a big day,” you replied softly, your thumb running over the back of Toto’s hand. “Couldn’t wait to follow you around the boat earlier.”

Toto chuckled, a deep sound that rumbled in his chest. “He’s always got so much energy, just like his mother.”

You laughed quietly, leaning your head against his shoulder. “He’s got your determination, though. He doesn’t give up until he gets what he wants.”

Toto smiled, a glint of pride in his eyes. “That’s true,” he murmured. “But right now, all he needs is to rest.”

The wind picked up slightly, causing the edges of the water to ripple. You pulled your jacket tighter around you, and Toto shifted, drawing you in closer without disturbing Jack.

“We should do this more often,” he said after a long pause, his voice low. “Just us. No races, no meetings. Just our family.”

You nodded, your heart warmed by the sincerity in his words. “I’d like that.”

For a while, the two of you sat in comfortable silence, the only sounds around you the gentle lap of the waves against the yacht and the occasional soft breath from Jack. The world felt far away here, like nothing could reach you.

As the sun dipped lower toward the horizon, casting the sky in hues of pink and orange, you looked up at Toto, the man who held your heart just as securely as he held your son. He caught your gaze and smiled that soft smile reserved only for moments like this, where it was just the three of you, wrapped in a cocoon of love and tranquility.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind.

“For what?” he asked, brow slightly furrowed.

“For being you. For always being here.”

Toto’s grip on your hand tightened, and he brought it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll always be here, love. For you, for Jack. Always.”

The yacht continued its gentle journey across the water, carrying with it the quiet promise of more days like this, filled with love, laughter, and the warmth of family.

[beomgyucoded]

Genre: Childhood best friends to lovers? (they always knew they’d end up together, it was like an unspoken thing between everyone that knew them)

Word Count: 2.5k 

Warnings: none that I could think of 

Summary: just another day with your best friend, hanging out and building lego sets. He even proposes to you, but he was just kidding. unless…?

You couldn't help but smile, trying to contain your laughter as the faux blonde boy in your living room diligently studied the instructions he was holding. 

Beomgyu texted you this morning, saying he had a surprise for you, and hours later he knocked on your door with a bunch of boxes in his arms.

Your eyes grew wide with surprise.

"What's all of that?"

You quickly scrambled to help him, his deep, playful laughter filling the air. 

“I remember you looking at these and saying you wished you had time to build them, so I bought them all for later. Or we can build them now.” 

That is how you found yourself here, seated on the floor across from your best friend, as he attempted to put together a bouquet of lego flowers. 

“Let me help you, I thought we were going to do this together,” you laughed, reaching for a few blocks. 

“I wanna do this one, you start on another one,” he spoke in pout, not even looking up at you, but you caught the playful glint in his eye.

You smiled at his tone, he knew you couldn’t argue with him when he spoke in pout. You made your way over to the stack of Lego sets and picked out the one on top, quickly settling back in your spot on the floor across from him. 

As you both worked on your respective Lego creations, the atmosphere shifted subtly, a comfortable silence settling between you. 

Deciding to take a small break from your Lego polaroid camera, you watched Beomgyu's focused expression while he meticulously attached each block, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. His hair fell over his forehead as he concentrated, his tongue poking out slightly in concentration. The sunlight streaming in through the window made his features glow, and you couldn't help but admire him. 

You met Beomgyu when you were eight years old, when your family moved to his neighborhood in Daegu. Your father and his had been friends for a long time, having met in school and even working together, but they were separated when your dad was relocated. They kept in touch all those years, his dad being the one to tell yours that there was a property for sale in their neighborhood. 

Before meeting, you had already heard countless stories about his father and how he was your dad's closest companion. You were also always told about their sons, especially about the one who was the same age as you. 

The day you actually met though, the two of you refused to talk to each other. His older brother kept trying to get the two of you to play together, telling Beomgyu to show you his new toys or you to show him your drawings. 

The reason for your hostility is you had heard your mom on the phone with his a few days before getting ready to move. They were talking about how great it was that they had a son and daughter the same age, and how they could set up an arranged marriage. You were at the age where all boys were icky, so hearing that made you not want to give Beomgyu a chance. 

One day however, you were dropped off at their house, his mom was going to be watching over you for the day. You gave his mom a big hug, ignoring Beomgyu who was right there, and taking a seat at their table. The two of you still didn’t speak, almost acting as if the other didn't even exist. The day carried on like that until it was time for lunch, his mom purposely putting him right next to you. 

You were about to shift away until you heard him ask if you liked birds. Looking over, you saw he was looking at the drawings you made earlier. Your silence caused him to look at you, to which you simply nodded, a small pout on your lips because he was talking to you. It was then that you learned about Toto, and you two spent the rest of the day playing together, finding that you liked a lot of the same things and got along really well. 

Years passed, and your bond with Beomgyu grew stronger. Countless memories were shared, from playing make-believe games as kids, to navigating the ups and downs of growing up through your teenage years. He was your best friend, the person you told and shared everything with, and you couldn't imagine your life without him. He felt the same, his presence a constant warmth in your life. He knew you better than anyone else, and vice versa. 

Suddenly, Beomgyu let out a triumphant cheer as he completed his Lego flower bouquet. Turning your attention back to him, you saw that rather than a bouquet, he had completed a number of flowers, everything scattered all over the place. 

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight before you. Beomgyu looked up at you with a grin, clearly proud of his creation despite it not being what he initially intended. 

"I think I got a bit carried away," he chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

As you gazed at the colorful array of Lego flowers sprawled across the floor, you felt a wave of affection wash over you. This was quintessentially Beomgyu, always full of surprises and never failing to make you smile.

"You definitely did, but I love it, you know the flowers are my favorite sets," you replied, still chuckling as you admired the haphazard Lego flowers.

He watched as you admired his work, fondness evident in his gaze. 

"I'm glad you like it," he said softly, his smile warm and genuine. 

Without warning, Beomgyu's expression shifted from affectionate to contemplative, as if he just remembered something, his eyes now teasing. He reached for one of the flowers and delicately held it between his fingers, as if presenting a precious gift. 

"You know," he began, his tone light yet tinged with mischief, "they say flowers are a traditional way to express feelings that words may fail to convey." 

His words hung in the air, filled with unspoken implications that made your heart race just a bit faster. You tried to suppress the sudden flutter of nerves in your stomach, unsure of where he was going with this charade.

"(Y/N)," he began with a mock-serious tone, his lips twitching with suppressed mirth, "I have something important to ask you."

With a playful spark in his eyes, he paused for dramatic effect, savoring the moment as he held up the flower to you. Your heart raced with anticipation, unsure of what was about to unfold as you met his gaze, curiosity and a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes.

"What could you possibly have to ask me with a Lego flower?" you questioned, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. 

Chuckling at your response, Beomgyu feigned offense, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. 

"Now, now, don't underestimate the power of a Lego flower proposal," he teased.

He then knelt down on one knee, holding the flower out to you as if it were the most delicate thing in the world. His eyes, filled with a mix of humor and sincerity, locked with yours, daring you to play along with his impromptu charade. 

“Will you marry me?” he paused, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. 

You felt your heart skip a beat at the unexpected question, even if it was all in jest. 

"Of course, Beomgyu," you replied with a grin, playing along with his “proposal”. 

Beomgyu's face broke into a wide, joyful grin at your response, relief evident in his eyes, but you didn’t catch on to that. Standing up from his mock proposal stance, he enveloped you in a warm hug, laughter bubbling between the two of you.

Pulling away, his arm lingered around your waist causing you to meet his gaze. 

“Do you remember when you said you wanted to be proposed to with a bouquet of Lego Flowers?” he smiled, warmth making it’s way back to his gaze. 

You nodded, remembering the offhand comment you had made years ago during one of your many late-night conversations. 

“I didn’t think you’d remember that, I was only joking when I said it,” you giggled, looking up at Beomgyu with both surprise and affection. 

His eyes held a playful sparkle as he brushed a stray hair away from your face, his touch gentle and reassuring.

“Well, I always pay attention to and remember the things you say, even the little details,” Beomgyu confessed, his voice soft but resolute.

“And I do the same, it’s how I found out about that hidden talent of yours,” you said, a fond smile gracing your features as you recalled the time Beomgyu had surprised you with his hidden talent for photography.

“It was just a hobby, everyone can take pictures,” he chuckled, looking away from you.

"But not everyone can capture the beauty of a moment like you do," you countered, your tone sincere as you reached out to gently turn his gaze back to meet yours. 

“You've always believed in me, even when I doubted myself. So when you become a famous architect, please let me be the one to photograph all your projects,” he whispered. 

“Why else do you think I convinced you to major in photography?” you teased with a playful twinkle in your eye.

Beomgyu's expression softened at your teasing words, a genuine smile playing on his lips as he shook his head in mock exasperation.

"You schemer," he chuckled.

“You know what? I take back my proposal,” he joked again. 

"Wha–" you gasped playfully, before he cut you off with a laugh.

“I was just kidding anyways, unless…?” he trailed off sounding slightly nervous, his eyes looking away and meeting his feet. 

Your heart started racing at the sudden shift in Beomgyu's demeanor, surprise and curiosity flickering in your eyes as you waited for him to continue.

“Unless what…?” you pause, your breath catching in your throat as you wait for Beomgyu to finish his sentence.

A moment of silence stretched between you, your eyes locked on him. Taking a few steps closer, you placed a finger under his chin, and gently lifted his gaze to meet yours, a soft smile playing on your lips. 

"Unless what?" you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper this time, as you searched his eyes for any hint of seriousness. 

"Unless... we make it real?" Beomgyu's voice matched yours, barely above a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any hint of any emotion at all.

“Are you- are you being serious Beom?” you blinked, trying to process the sudden turn of events. 

The playful banter had taken on a much more serious undertone, and your heart raced with excitement and uncertainty. The air around you had become thick, full of tension and nervousness. 

“I always saw myself marrying you (Y/N), so yes, I’m being serious,” he replied, his voice unwavering and his eyes never leaving yours. 

"Beomgyu," you began softly, “I feel the same way. I can’t see myself with anyone else either.” 

With his heart pounding in his chest, Beomgyu took a deep breath before stepping even closer to you. He reached out to cup your face, his touch warm and familiar as he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as his lips met yours in a sweet, soft kiss. 

This wasn’t the first time you kissed, but it was the first time it held so much weight and purpose. Pulling back slightly, Beomgyu rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he took a moment to savor the connection between you.

“Will you marry me? For real this time?” 

You giggled softly, and pressed a small kiss to his lips before replying, “Yes, Beomgyu, I will marry you. For real this time," you whispered, your voice full of love. 

“Someday?” he asked, searching your eyes for confirmation.

"Someday," you affirmed with a smile, feeling a surge of happiness and contentment at the prospect of spending forever with Beomgyu by your side. 

“Do you want to know something funny?” you asked, trying to bite back a laugh. 

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow, curiosity and amusement crossing his features. 

"What is it?" he inquired, a small smile playing on his lips as he waited for your response.

You couldn't contain your laughter any longer and let out a soft chuckle before saying, "Remember when we first met, and I pretty much refused to even look at you?”

Beomgyu joined in on your laughter. 

"Oh, how could I forget? You were so stubborn and determined to keep your distance," he recalled with a playful smirk. 

“Do you want to know why?” you asked. 

“I’d love to hear your explanation for being so cold to me at just eight years old.”

You took a moment, relishing the playful banter that had always been a comfortable dynamic between the two of you.

“It’s kind of ironic actually, before moving, I overheard my mom talking to yours on the phone. They were talking about an arranged marriage between us and I was absolutely repulsed after hearing that as an eight year old.” you recalled, remembering the distant memory that now seemed so insignificant compared to the bond you now shared with Beomgyu.

Beomgyu's eyes widened in surprise at your revelation, his hand dropping from your face as he processed your words.

"An arranged marriage? I had no idea," he murmured softly, shock and a bit of amusement coloring his tone.

You nodded, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. 

"I remember how you would avoid me like the plague," he teased gently.

"It's funny how things turned out, isn't it? Now I can’t see myself marrying anyone else," you mused, a fond smile playing on your lips as you looked at Beomgyu.

Beomgyu's gaze softened, a look of adoration in his eyes as he reached for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. You leaned into him, resting your head against his chest as you closed your eyes, focusing on the rhythm of his heartbeat.

With a contented sigh, you nestled closer to him, feeling a sense of completeness that words could not capture. In that silent exchange of love and understanding, you both knew that this was both a continuation and the beginning of your beautiful journey together.

a/n: hi everyone! I know it's been a long while since I've posted anything new, I apologize for that. Life has become a lot in the last few months. But after the new concepts dropped, I got this idea and really wanted to write it, so I hope you enjoy it!

Beomgyu Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[annisassintchaska]

Heyy!!! I was wondering can you write a one with Lewis c black reader Toto? Like Toto and reader are married and poly and they have a secret relationship with Lewis and one day Lewis gets injured in a race so she goes to check on him and they assume she’s cheating on Toto until he confesses that there all in a relationship with each other! I don’t know it’s up to you!

The fun part of being in a polyamorous relationship with two of the most popular men in the United Kingdom, is the fact that it was kept a secret from the world as we snuck around; playing hide and seek.

Today is the second to last race of the season as both of my partners prepare themselves for the hectic race ahead. The cars were checked over and both drivers were inspected as to be sure they were fit to drive out in the sun today before everyone started getting dressed and heading to their cars.

I for one always stayed by my husband's side as to not draw suspicion with Lewis; I had a bad feeling about thus race and so I kinda just sticked myself to his side, leaving my husband with George and the computers with analysis that I will never understand.

Walking along the corridors, Lewis and laced ourselves together in a tight hug as he swayed me from left to right. "Promise me you'll be careful?" I asked low but loud enough for him to hear. "I'm always careful sweetheart. I would never be careless when I have you to return to" he said softly as he kissed my forehead.

Time passed and all the drivers were now line up on the grid waiting for the green light that came sooner than I wanted. The race went on with me being extremely anxious, feeling the need to puke everything Lewis had to take a sharp turn in the narrow corners.

TOTO'S POV

Lewis had been going good for the most part, George looks to be a bit struggling and honestly this has been our reality for a while. Y/n has been jerking anxiously beside me as she had made her concern about the race earlier and I'm honestly concerned with her state.

Turning in my seat to speak to Bono, after a minute I heard shouting. Spinning around, I realised that my wife is being held back by some mechanics as she begged them to allow her go out. Swiftly running over and taking her from them, she broke down in my arms crying. "He crashed Torger, I told you we should've had the reserve driver go in today." She referred to Lewis who was just getting out of the car.

Allowing her to go out, she walked straight to the entrance where the safety car would arrive with Lewis, as I went to check on George.

LEWIS' POV

The safety car stopping at the entrance and allowing me to exit, I spotted Y/n running straight for me as she landed in my arms. Hearing her sniffles, I ran my hand over her curls instead of risking to knot my hand into her hair.

Whispering calming words into her ears, I kissed all over her face, stopping at her lips. Unbeknownst to us, camera had actually followed her 6here and the moment was spread live.

Upon returning to the garage, everyone stared as Toto engulfed us into a hug. The post race interviews came with everyone questioning what happen, and for a while I said nothing so everyone's best guess was that Y/n wad having an affair with me and Toto was allowing it.

Fans started trashing her online within seconds and Toto and I could not have that happening so we went to the last inter view together, finally responding to the question "My wife is not having an affair, the three of us are in a polygamous relationship- not that it's any of your business but I would like for y'all to stop slandering my innocent wife's name" Toto answered, stunning everyone as I just stood back and smiled at Y/n who I could see had fallen asleep on the couch at the garage's entrance. Overtime the fans came to term with it and eventually loved seeing all three of us together; there were no more problems.

[lilyrizzy]

continuation of this silly little fic...have more silly maxiel hunger games au fic bc I recently read the new book and got obsessed again, oops. cw: everything you'd expect with a hunger games au, death, torture & forced prostitution mentions.

Alex stares down at his meal. Lumpy porridge sprinkled with what District Thirteen likes to call ‘nutritional powder,’ orange juice, and an apple that looks far too green to have been grown underground. In three weeks, he hasn’t seen sunshine, real or otherwise.

“You aren’t going to get anything else,” George reminds him, and in front of where he’s shovelling food into his mouth at an alarming pace, his tray is already three-quarters empty. Gone is the good boy routine, vanished along with the Capitol cameras the moment Charles blew up the dome sky of the arena with a good shot and the reel of wire Seb spent all games carrying around.

Alex hasn’t seen either of them since that moment, Charles dead the moment the sky lit up, and Seb still in District Thirteen’s medical wing. There are rumours he’ll never walk again.

Max, who fought off the Capitol mutts in an attempt to keep the rest of them alive that night is their only other living ally. Right now he’s sat at the next table alone, his food tray also full. He’s drawing patterns in the sludge with his spoon, and mumbling to himself the way he used to, in the games. Talking to ghosts, or talking to his- To Daniel, maybe. By now, that probably means the same thing.

“Are you going to-“ George interrupts his thoughts, gesturing to Alex’s tray. He shoves it towards him, standing as he does.

“Go wild, Georgie,” he half mutters, meaning to walk back to his room, or to Toto’s to beg for something, anything to do to help him stop thinking.

Instead, he finds himself standing over Max, only with no real plan of what to say. Hello, I’m sorry your boyfriend is probably dead, but so is my girlfriend. Want to talk rebellion strategy? Yeah, right. Alex has a feeling that Max is as much an unwilling participant in this uprising as he is, or at the very least an accidental one.

You fucking promised me, you- You swore he’d be okay, that you’d protect him, you promised.

Alex had watched Max howl it all at Horner in the hovercraft as it took them thousands of miles away from the remains of the arena. Right before Max punched Horner in the face and ended up sedated for the remainder of the journey. The yellow-orange traces of the shiner Max gave him still give Alex a strange sense of satisfaction to see every time Horner calls him to the command room to ask him to star in more propaganda videos.

“Hi,” is all he says to Max now, shifting from foot to foot in front of him, as Max continues to mumble into his food.

“I’d need a gun for that, or at least a knife. Of course, these are too blunt, and-“

“Max,” Alex tries again, and that gets his head snapping up, as though woken from a trance. His eyes dart around before settling all the way on Alex.

“Oh,” he says like he’s assessing a threat and finding there to be none, “it’s you. What do you want, twelve?”

In the arena, Max had called him Alex. Maybe, like George’s gentlemen act, it had been something designed to please the cameras, or more likely, to forge allies. Allies they apparently needed to get this show on the road. Toto had explained this to him, that it was important to have as many districts as possible represented in the uprising victors. That way, their homes would have a reason to believe that they too can rebel.

“Nothing,” Alex says hastily, putting up his hands. “Nothing, I- I wondered if you wanted some company.”

Max glances from Alex to the side, where he can no doubt see George still filling his belly with Alex’s unfinished meal.

“Pretty boy is winding you up already?” Max asks, something almost teasing on his lips.

Alex flushes. There was no way Max could know about the night before, George’s warm body slipping into his bed, and his warmer hands finding Alex’s skin under the scratchy, military issue blankets. Clinging onto each other, the only piece of home they’d likely see again. Except, maybe Max can know all about it, maybe that was how he’d found his way to Daniel.

Max raises his eyebrows, and Alex choses to believe he’s just expecting an answer rather than recognising Alex's guilt. Even though Lily was likely killed right after his unconscious body was airlifted from the arena as a warning to any who sympathises or dares to love a rebel, there was still a small voice in him that warned that if she had survived, he would always have betrayed her.

“A little,” he says, half the truth and half a total lie. If he didn’t have George, he’d be like Max. Alone, and half mad.

Max smirks, but gestures to the bench opposite him. Alex sits, trying to think of something else to say.

“What, uh. What are you talking about?” It’s all he can come up with, and internally he groans. He doesn’t need to get roped into Max’s crazy. He cocks his head at Alex, like he doesn’t know what he is talking about, only affirming Alex’s belief that he's securely in cuckoo land, but it’s too late to go back now. “The guns, or the- The knife?”

“Oh,” Max says, nodding like this is perfectly sane. “I am trying to think of some way to the Capitol.”

“The Capitol?” Alex repeats, dumbfounded, because that is where they’ve just been rescued from. But- Realisation dawns on him, slow and then all at once, like the sun he used to get to see every morning.

“It’s where Daniel will be, probably,” Max confirms.

Alex tries to nod earnestly like this isn’t the worst idea he’s ever heard.

“Of course, Christian promises me that they are going to rescue them, but only when it is safe,” Max is continuing, hands suddenly animated in front of him. It’s the liveliest Alex has seen him since the games. “I cannot wait until it is safe, because what if it never is? What if they are- I can’t leave him there. I need to get to him.”

Alex tries to listen, but his brain stalls on one word, making the rest almost obsolete.

Them.

“Who else are the Capitol holding?” He asks, knowing as he does that the spark of hope Max’s answer lights might be the thing to tip him over the deep end too. Max’s answering look tells Alex that he thinks his question is very stupid.

“Well,” he says with a bitter laugh, “I did not exactly get the list, but I would imagine it includes yours and Georgie’s families-“ He waves his spoon in George’s direction- “along with maybe the rest of the victors. Your girlfriend, your childhood best friend. Fuck, maybe someone you sat next to in math class, Alex. Anyone they think they can use against you.”

Alex's head begins to spin. Of all the propaganda videos from the Capitol that had made their way to them here in Thirteen, Daniel and Lily hadn’t been mentioned or seen once. Alex had assumed this meant they were long gone, but what if they were only waiting for the right time to reveal their captives? Max is right, after all, they’d be more use to the Capitol alive. As bait, or maybe just to torture them with the idea of ‘what if.’

He thinks back to Daniel’s screams in the arena, calling for Max over and over to help him. Max curled on the ground like a child, his fingers stuffed into his ears.

“What about your family?” Alex asks, stomach turning at the thought of how much blood he would have on his hands at the end of all this. “What-“

“Daniel is my family,” Max interrupts him bluntly. Then, maybe because he senses the cold coil of fear his words help to settle in Alex’s stomach, he continues. “I had a sister when this all- But I told her to run. She had two small babies, and I couldn’t- There was nothing I could do to protect them if they stayed.”

Alex’s eyes widen. Running was almost unheard of. Growing up, he’d only known two people to try it, the wife and child of a rebel who had been hanged the day before. Peacekeepers put a round of bullets into their bodies just five miles past the fence.

“Did they-“ He asks, and Max shakes his head.

“I don’t know,” he says. “I like to think that because I never heard, it means-“ He shrugs.

Alex would want to think that as well, but the chances of Max’s sister running around the wilderness of Panem with two little kids, not only undetected but thriving, is- It’s hard to believe. To be kind, he nods like it’s not.

“I wish I’d told Lily to run,” he practically whispers because even though he doesn’t think she’d have made it either, it would likely be a quicker death than whatever the Capitol have in store for her now. Like Max, he doesn’t have much faith in Horner’s plans to rescue whoever they may still have, and unlike Max, there’s no way he has faith in himself either to make up for that shortcoming.

Max nods, his mouth a wonky line that in any other circumstances might be considered a smile. He reaches across the table and shocks Alex by touching his shoulder gently.

“If I make it there, to Daniel-“ He looks to the side, like his mind is still halfway elsewhere, formulating his plan- “I promise I will look for her, also.”

Alex closes his eyes, startled by the sudden compassion in Max’s voice.

“Thank you,” he whispers, but to be honest, Max’s words do very little to bring him any comfort.

Toto had made Alex promises too, like Horner to Max. It seemed this war was built upon the breaking of them.

—

“Tell me something about Daniel.”

Max looks up at Alex from where he’d been staring down at the same photograph Alex has seen stuck on his bunkroom wall. Something he must have grabbed when the bombing siren started to sound, before they all filed down into the shelter. In it, Alex can see Daniel’s curly hair, his well fitted suit. A Capitol propaganda photo, likely, that Max had swipped from some magazine.

The moment Horner and Toto called them into the control room to detail their scheme- sneak a craft out during the next air strike on Thirteen, when the Capitol is distracted to retrieve the hostages- the fight Alex was used to seeing in Max had almost completely diminished. Looking at him now, he looks- Well, a little pathetic.

Come on, Max, he thinks but doesn’t say, weren’t you supposed to be some bloody murderer?

Max is the deadliest victor in Panem’s history, a reputation that had followed him into his post-games life as a victor. Seb had told Alex stories in the arena, of how the people of the Capitol requested for Max to sit in cages at the edges of their dinner parties, the ultimate display of power.

“Why?” Is all that same man asks now, and it’s as if he’s too weak to even seem guarded anymore.

Alex sits down on the bed beside him. Around them, the metal frames shake, clanging together in the dimly lit bunker. Dust and dirt fall from the ceiling. Maybe the mission will succeed, only for Daniel and Lily to arrive at District 13 and find them all dead and buried under rubble.

“Because it seems like a better plan than waiting in miserable silence?” Alex offers, tucking his legs up to rest his chin on his knees. “Come on,” he prompts, when Max still seems hesitant, “there must be one thing you love about him that you’re not too stoic to share.”

Max laughs, despite their situation, and mouthes the word, stoic, shaking his head a little. Then-

“Everybody loves his big smile,” Max offers, finger tracing over the shape of Daniel’s lips on the photo, “the tributes we would mentor, the other victors. The people of the Capitol, who paid enough to have it, and much more, thrown in their direction, but- But I like it better when it is smaller. Softer. Just-”

Just for you, Alex thinks, but Max doesn’t finish his sentence.

“What about you?” He asks instead, offering Alex a small smile of his own, “What makes Lily so special?”

Alex laughs, because what doesn’t make her special?

“She’s like, the smartest person ever,” he says, because throughout all this he has wondered over and over what she would do in his place, and tried to follow that course of action. “I keep thinking how she’d have the Districts liberated by now if she was here.”

Max nods, lips quirking upwards again.

“Let’s hope she makes it then,” is all he offers, eyes back on his picture. It’s then Alex notices the expression Daniel is wearing, the soft smile Max was talking about. Maybe not a Capitol promo photo after all.

“Did you two-“ He starts, but stops himself, aware he is treading on shaky ground now. Another explosion sounds somewhere above ground, with the vibration taking a few beats longer to travel to them. Somewhere near them, a baby begins to wail, as the ground both above and beneath their feet trembles.

“Did we what?” Max asks, looking at Alex again.

“Did you, uh. Did you fall in love before or after your games?” It isn’t what he was going to ask.

“That is not what you were going to ask,” Max says. Alex flushes, but Max answers anyway. “For me, yes. For Daniel, he says it was after.” Alex nods. Max’s answer is the only clear confirmation he’s gotten since hearing the jabberjays wail that Daniel and Max are lovers. “Now ask me what you were really going to ask.”

Alex hesitates, but another shockwave of the bombing has him throwing caution to the wind. By morning, they might be dead anyway.

“Did you like, live together and stuff?” He finally asks, and it’s a watered down version, and Max sees through that too.

“You mean, why did we not hide it better, from the Capitol?” He asks, head tilted to one side in a gesture that Alex has since learned means he’s considering how to dumb down a very easy concept to someone he thinks is very stupid.

It’s half of what Alex had wondered, along with how they worked, given the entire country knew the rumours of how Daniel spent his time when he was in the Capitol, how he got so many of the jewels he seemed to proudly wear at every year’s games coverage.

He shrugs.

“We tried,” Max says, “for a while. Of course, people do not like- Well.” Alex feels himself flush again. “But it got very hard.”

“The logistics?” Alex asks, surprised by the flimsy sounding excuse, but Max shakes his head.

“No, the-“ He breaks off to chew his lip, clearly debating how honest he wants to be. One of the cats Max told him Thirteen only had to keep the mice away appears as though from nowhere, winding itself around Max’s legs. Max hunches over with a cautious hand to pet it, and it lets him, where with Alex it would show its teeth and claws. Eventually, he continues.

“My sister, when I came back from the games, she did not look at me the same way,” he explains, tucking the photograph of Daniel carefully back into his pocket. “The Capitol paraded me around like one of their muts, like I was some kind of bedtime terror meant to scare their naughty children, as well as the people from my own home.”

You used to terrify me, Alex agrees internally, but he knows better than to say anything. The cat between Max’s feet begins to pur.

“The only time I really felt like a person anymore was with Daniel,” Max says, like it explains everything and in a way, it does. “It was too hard, to go for such long times feeling like a monster, too easy to start to believe that you are. When we are together, we can just- I can just-“

Max breaks off, putting his head into his hands. As his shoulders start to shake, Alex realises that Max is doing something Alex has never seen him do before.

He’s starting to cry.

[jadelotusflower]

Rewatch: Return to Oz (1985)

I've been on a bit of an Oz kick recently, revisiting the original Baum books and of course anticipating Wicked coming out later this year (which I'm managing expectations for to avoid disappointment).

Return to Oz was a staple (and nightmare fuel) for many a millennial childhood, at the tail end of the "dark fantasy" era popularised by The Neverending Story and The Dark Crystal, the antithesis of the Technicolour, musical world of MGM's The Wizard of Oz - a dystopian future that reflects the fracturing of Dorothy's mind and her inability to reconcile the trauma of her previous Kansas-Oz journey.

Return lives in a sort of mirror world to the 1939 film, taking elements such as the ruby slippers (for which Disney had to pay MGM a hefty fee), but returning to the original illustrations for the character designs, and drawing inspiration from Baum's novels but not explicitly adapting them. It also returns Dorothy to a child rather than Garland's quasi-teenager, which is important as I feel Baum (an advocate of women's suffrage) had a keen interest in the empowerment of girls as the heroes of their own stories.

To evoke that other turn of the century fantasy classic, Dorothy is to early modern American folklore as Alice is to English, and if The Wizard of Oz is Wonderland, Return to Oz is Through the Looking Glass. In fact Return relies heavily on the mirror motif, not only literally, in the mirror that entraps Ozma, but Ozma herself as a mirror to Dorothy. Return also takes the Kansas/Oz dichotomy from the film in reflecting people Dorothy knows in Kansas to characters of Oz (a concept not found in the books), but while in Wizard it’s Dorothy’s trio of friends that are personified in the Scarecrow, Tinman, and Cowardly Lion, in Return it is her trio of antagonists from Kansas who appear in Oz - the Dr Worley/The Nome King, Nurse Wilson/Mombi, and the Orderly/Wheeler.

Her Oz friends in Return are instead pulled from inanimate objects - Ozma gives her a pumpkin that personifies in Jack Pumpkinhead, Tik-Tok resembles the "Electrical Therapy" machine with the face, and the gump...well, I guess they forgot about that one.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

Fairuza Balk was just 11 but has a compelling screen presence - her Dorothy is troubled and serious, befitting the overall darker tone of the film. While she would go on to embody "witchy" energy in later roles, here there's a world-weariness yet innate strength to her Dorothy.

Aunt Em helpfully tells us it's been six months since the tornado and Dorothy can't sleep. Her body may be back in Kansas, but her mind remains in Oz.

The film doesn't really pick a lane between the "it was all a dream" of the 1939 film and the "Oz is an actual place" of the books, leaving it for the viewer to decide. We are told the old house was "lost" but that can suit either interpretation, same with the OZ key being either delivered by shooting star or the key to the old house (as Em posits). Dorothy's inability to sleep is either unresolved trauma from the tornado, or longing to return to her friends in Oz and/or sensing that there is trouble in Oz.

I'm much more sympathetic to Em as an adult - she has a husband unable or unwilling to finish building the new house, Dorothy won't stop rabbiting on about nonsense rather than helping with chores, and she has to borrow money from her sister to pay for medical treatment to try and cure Dorothy's insomnia.

Justice for Aunt Em! Played with grace by three-time Oscar nominee Piper Laurie (for The Hustler, Carrie, and Children of a Lesser God respectively).

Poor Toto doesn't get to come on this adventure, but hey, he's still around, guess Mrs Gulch didn't make good on her threat to have him destroyed (or she died in the tornado, which is probably likely given the Witch's fate).

Just a guy patronizing a child that the machine intended to surge electricity through her brain is perfectly safe because it has a face.

But there is a face in the machine - Ozma, stuck in the glass.

Nicol Williamson is our villain, with a fantastic voice. Mostly known for theatre and Shakespeare, you may remember him as Merlin from that other dark fantasy classic Excalibur, or as Little John from Robin and Marian.

Jean Marsh is our witch, complete with black gown and pointed sleeves - to continue our fantasy bingo she was Queen Bavmorda in Willow (which I've actually never seen) and Rose in the original Upstairs Downstairs (which I've never seen either). She'll always be creepy Mombi to me.

We see Ozma in the glass again before she appears in Dorothy's room, ethereal barefoot child gifting her a carved pumpkin because "it's Halloween soon". Okay, whatever you have to do to get there.

On that note, the screenplay was written by Gill Dennis (who would go on to co-write Walk the Line) and Walter Murch, who also directed. Murch was film school friends with George Lucas, and they wrote THX-1138 together - Lucas has a "special thanks" credit on this film. Murch worked steadily in sound design and editing (nominated for 10 Oscars with 4 wins), but after Return was a box office failure he never directed another film, which is a real shame.

Dorothy "combs" the pumpkins hair, which I find very charming.

The growing tension of Dorothy's isolation, being strapped to the gurney, the squeaking wheels, the far-off screaming: this is a horror film for children.

My sister and I used to re-create Ozma and Dorothy's escape on our grandmother's porch all the time.

Because we’re in a mirror, the streaming river of Kansas becomes the deadly desert of Oz - water, of course, also being a mirror and common pathway/doorway between worlds.

Billina the hen also appears, because Dorothy needs an animal companion, who can now talk because she is in Oz. The question is whether Toto could also talk, as all animals can in Oz, and simply chose not to (iirc in the books he didn't because he could "make himself understood" without words or something). The chicken puppetry is really quite good, I'll always prefer puppets/animatronics over cgi.

The voice of Billina is provided by Denise Bryer, who was the "junk lady" in Labyrinth (have we got that bingo yet?).

Another reflection - the packed lunch that was taken from Dorothy at the sanitarium in Kansas is returned to her in the form of a lunch pail tree in Oz, which leans towards the reading that Oz is a projection of Dorothy's mind as a way to cope and resolve/repair the traumas of her Kansas life.

Dorothy comes across her old house that is seemingly not in Munchkinland, the broken remains of the yellow brick road nearby. How much time has passed in Oz? Since everyone was turned to stone it could be hundreds of years and we're in a Narnia situation - at least long enough for a forest to grow where there once was a munchkin town square.

Glinda is conspicuous by her absence - probably because the plot couldn't happen if she was around.

Also absent are any stone munchkins which has very dark implications - the Emerald City still has ruins and stone inhabitants, but Munchkinland has been completely obliterated.

lol, Dorothy runs to the Emerald City in literally minutes, a journey that previously took half a film.

Sleep well, kids!

If we go with the interpretation that Oz is a manifestation of Dorothy's mind (maladaptive daydreaming?), it is interesting how she projects people and objects from her real life into her fantasy life - obviously her threats in the sanitarium become the villains, but the Electric Shock machine becomes Tik-Tok, her erstwhile protector. In this, she transforms a threat into an ally, and yet much is made that he isn't, and cannot be, "alive."

Many of the elements of this film - Billina, the Wheelers, Tik-Tok, the Nome King, and the princess with a hundred heads - came from Ozma of Oz, while Ozma herself, Jack Pumpkinhead, and the witch Mombi (combined in this film with Princess Langwidere) originate in the earlier The Marvellous Land of Oz, with a different backstory.

Oh to be a wicked witch, playing a mandolin, in a gilded, mirrored palace.

I enjoy this costume! Reflective of the high structured sleeves of nurse but sharp to emphasise the danger Mombi poses, and with the same mechanical accents/coloiur scheme as the Wheelers

Those cabinets full of heads are still so creepy. The way they watch Dorothy - are they alive and aware the whole time? Horrifying.

Jack Pumpkinhead was voiced by a young Brian Henson (who also acted as puppeteer).

I always used to fast-forward the scene where Dorothy steals the key and gets chased by headless Mombi as a kid, it was just too tense.

I mean maybe this isn't scary to kids today, but it sure freaked the fuck out of me. Especially with all of those heads screaming in their cabinets.

But how exactly was zombie Mombi snoring without a head?

Interesting that the cabinet with Mombi's original head is the only one without transparent glass, but instead has a mirror. Her original head is also kept in cabinet 31, which was Dorothy's room in the sanitarium. As a kid I was always dead set that Oz was real and Dorothy really went there, but now I'm leaning more towards Oz as a manifestation, or at least a world directly influenced and constantly adapting based on Dorothy's experiences. Was she unable to sleep in Kansas because she knew Oz was in trouble, or was Oz in trouble because of her mental discord?

"If his brain's run down, how can he talk?" "It happens to people all the time Jack!" is a nice callback to "Some people without brains do an awful lot of talking don't they?"

In which we strain the metaphor.

But all these mirrors also serve a story purpose as well as a metaphorical one - the mirror world is where Mombi has trapped Ozma, so she can look on every surface and see her victory. The mirror is also a connection with the real world, and how Ozma can reach Dorothy and draw her back to Oz. Mirrors are reflections, but they are also doorways, as we see in this very scene as Ozma directs Dorothy to the right passage to get back up to the tower.

We also get another Dorothy/Ozma parallel, in which she becomes a surrogate mother to Jack in place of Ozma, his creator.

There's almost some social commentary in the Nome King's grievances: "All the previous stones in the world are made here in my underground dominions...so imagine how I feel when someone from the world above digs down and steals my treasures? All those emeralds in the Emerald City really belong to me. I was just taking back what was mine to begin with." But of course he didn't just take back the emeralds, he turned the populace to stone or into inanimate objects so that does undercut his point a bit.

Her descent visually recalls (deliberate or not) Alice's fall down the rabbit hole in Wonderland. The VFX are pretty rough though.

Dorothy points out that he has so much, implying perhaps he could share, and the Nome King retorts "that's not the point." It is the point in later books, where under Ozma's leadership the Emerald City is essentially a utopian communal living society.

She also points out that the Scarecrow didn't take the emeralds rather they were there when he was made king, but the film is uninterested in exploring the culpability around generational wealth and repatriation of cultural property.

But it's interesting how much the Oz story revolves around powerful objects and theft and/or appropriation of them. Glinda steals the Witch of the East's ruby slippers and gives them to Dorothy, who then steals the Witch of the West's broom to give to the Wizard, Mombi steals Ozma, someone stole the emeralds from the Nome King, who steals them back, Mombi steals heads, Dorothy steals the Powder of Life, etc etc

At this point the Nome King is merely a face in the stone, but when he comforts Dorothy he starts to takes a more humanoid rock form, with a hand to reach out to her.

Is his sympathy genuine or feigned? I'm going with the latter, since he manipulates her into playing the "guessing game" to try and get the Scarecrow back.

Worst production of Starlight Express ever.

When I was a kid I always wanted to try the limestone pie and hot silver drink, but now it looks super gross.

The Gump chose…poorly.

The Nome King making points again - Dorothy and co didn't ask what would happen if they got it wrong, even Tik-Tok only brings it up after the Gump has already gone in. But they press on in order of most expendable, Jack (with Billina hiding in his head) and then Tik-Tok.

As each get turned into ornaments, we see the Nome King become more and more humanised in his rock form - a nice subtle indication that his motives aren't purely spite and he gains power from turning living (or living-adjacent) things into inanimate objects, the opposite (mirror) of Dorothy's power in turning inanimate objects into living things in the journey from Kansas to Oz. If Dorothy had chosen wrong too, he says he would have become completely human - would he have been able to access the path to the human world? Was his goal to eliminate Oz, the fantasy world, in favour of the human world, much like Worley was obsessed with harnessing electricity and the "modern" world?

It's revealed that Chekhov's ruby slippers that Dorothy earlier told Dr Worley had fallen off on her way back to Kansas the first time were found by the Nome King, and their power enabled him to conquer the Emerald City.

It's unclear whether the rubies were first mined from the Nome King's caverns, but Dorothy really can't complain given the shoes were magicked off the feet of a dead woman and onto her own.

I'm actually surprised that they kept the ruby slippers in given the license fee they had to pay, since nothing really turns on their inclusion, other than the Nome King's offer to send her home with them, allowing Dorothy the choice between her own safety and the lives of her friends, of course the parallel to Worley offering the ECT to wipe her mind of Oz. I do like the callback, but it didn't need to be the ruby slippers rather than some other power the Nome King had.

Hee, the Nome King's little stone feet kicking out of his stone robe with the ruby slippers is so camp.

It is interesting through to think about the chain of events - Dorothy, eager to get back home, lets go of the ruby slippers, they fall into the Nome King's hands, he uses them to conquer Oz and install Mombi, who has imprisoned Ozma in the mirror (at some point long in the past). The fracturing of Oz influences Dorothy's mental state which drives her to Worley, where Ozma is able to contact her through the mirror world and bring her back to Oz, depose the Nome King/Mombi, and restore Ozma to her throne. It's quite neat writing.

There's an interesting green/red dichotomy - red seems to represent the witch's power, the ruby slippers that originally belonged to the Witch of the East, Mombi's ruby key, fire/red smoke being used by the Witch of the West, and even pink was the colour associated with Glinda in the 1939 film, while green represents Oz in the ornaments they turn into, the Emerald City, the Gump is green, etc. Both rubies and emeralds are present in the Nome King's costuming, perhaps indicating that the raw items did come from his dominions.

When Dorothy chooses correctly, the Nome King reverts to his claymation rock form, and the room turns red. I don't think it's explicitly green=good and red=bad (the Witch of the West had green screen after all), but both are associated with power.

I always used to fast forward this sequence as well. The Nomes coming out of the walls? *shudder*

The Nome King, felled by a classic egg poisoning.

Dorothy liberates the ruby slippers from another dead body, lol.

At the celebration in Oz, the costuming does lean heavily into either red or green - so maybe that was just standard complementary colour palette and I'm reading too much into things.

We get a nice long pan over the mirrored ceiling of the parade, just to really hit the point home.

Oh hey, the Wheelers are here too! All is forgiven I guess? Except Mombi, she gets to be paraded about in her cage by the woman whose heads she stole. Hey, at least she's able to smirk about her villainy.

Dorothy turns down queenship of Oz but wishes she "could be in both places at the same time" - the ruby slippers grant her wish and Ozma is released from the mirror.

Ozma's backstory: "Her father was king of Oz before the Wizard came. Ozma grew up as Mombi's slave, but when the Nome King promised Mombi thirty beautiful heads if she kept Ozma a secret, she enchanted her into the mirror." The first part is the much the same in the book, although there we get some interesting gender-bending stuff where Mombi transforms her into a boy name Tip and she doesn't discover her true nature until much later.

Dorothy gives Ozma the ruby slippers, combining the power of green and red (I'm just going with it now), therefore healing the kingdom of Oz from the discord first created when the Wizard arrived (in the book he was the one who gave baby Ozma to Mombi), and drawing Ozma's real world counterpart Dorothy to fix it by deposing the Wicked Witches and then the Nome King. But with Ozma returned, there is no need for Dorothy to remain in Oz, the two sides of herself are split and no longer warring inside her.

Billina however remains, to be Ozma's animal counterpart to Dorothy's Toto.

As a kid I coveted this gown, and I still kind of dig the headdress. Well, the OZ circlet anyway.

I also acted out the pulling Ozma from the mirror scene many times.

Although kind of a bitch move on Ozma's part to send Dorothy back before she could give her proper goodbyes. It's like, off you pop, thanks for freeing me but this is my kingdom now.

Dorothy wakes up beside the river (with a close up of a reflective pool of water/Dorothy's eye), and again, this could either be her actually returned by Ozma, or her simply waking from her delirium.

But the real world counterparts have met the same fate as their Oz reflections - Worley died in the fire and Wilson is carried off in a police cart.

Henry, after the shock of almost losing Dorothy, is motivated to finish building the house, and Dorothy is able to look back fondly at Oz through her reflection, but has learned to keep it a secret and not let it consume her life.

Her trauma is resolved, Oz is at peace; Dorothy and Ozma can live contentedly in parallel, with a connection between both worlds.

This is also a nice callback to the books, where Ozma would check in on Dorothy once a day through her magic mirror to see if she needed her assistance.

Maybe it's just my nostalgia goggles, but this film really holds up for me! Yes the effects are a little dated and it's on the darker side for kid's fare, but overall the story and acting is strong, there's meaty subtext around the importance - but necessary limits - of fantasy as escapism, it unequivocally centers girls/women as the heart of the story with their own agency and harnessing their own power. It's well worth the rewatch.

What do you think? Am I blinded by nostalgia? Reading way too much into a kids movie? Am I just rambling into the void here?

[bwoahtastic]

So a few different ideas about minotaur maxy cos am spiralling:

Maxy moo being born a minotaur after the curse hit pregnant Nico and Nico managing to run away with his baby when Maxy is like 8 or 9 months old or so, after which they live happily ever after with Lewis at the tower and Maxy gets to have his childhood with momma!

Max cursed later on in life? Like maybr when he is like 6 or 7 so still a kiddo but had more time with momma and it breaks Nico to leave his baby in the labyrinth and gets banished himself, living in poverty around the maze trying to find a way in to at least be with his baby! And poor Max just calling for his momma a lot🥲 maybe someone gets thrown in as punishments, the minotaur might bot be big enough to kill but the maze itself can. Maybe it's a young single momma like Seb? Nico sees Seb getting thrown in ans tries to tell him about his baby moo, and after takes care of Seb's young son Charles the best he can. Meanwhile Seb coming across The Fearsome Beast who is judt a little boy drawing stars on the floor with chalk and he will try to get this litlte thing out with him!

Alternatively, it taking many many years for anything to happen, poor Nico never leaves the area, always stays close to the maze but he never manages to get his baby out. He knows Max is still alive because he is made to fight in the arena sometimes and Nico cries seeing his poor baby frantic and confused trying to find off animals and other monsters. He I'd never killed tho, he is too important to keep, but he is scarred and scared🥺 Maybe it's still Charles being thrown in and Charles is the child of Seb and Toto (the kind advisor helping Nico as much as possible while hiding he has a family cos the king doesn't allow it!) And Charles gets thrown in the maze after saying no to the advances of the new Prince. Toto alerting nico and Nico manages to get into the maze with Seb after Toto creates a commotion. Please the two mommas stumbling in to the centre of the maze and Seb instsntly has his arms full of Charles, who is relieved but not hurt! Meanwhile Nico trying to approach Max but Max is so confused, Nico smells familiar but he csnt place it, maybe its someone who tried to hurt or ridicule him before? He is so tense and maybe tries to hide behind Charles? And poor Nico bursts into tears going "don't you remember me, Maxy? My little star, I am your momma..." and Maxy rasps that hid mother thought he was a monster and put him here, that's what he was always told...

[laura1633]

Sorry for this rant, you don’t have to reply to this at all, and I’m sorry because Ik you’re prob getting a lot of this rn. I’m currently arguing with someone on insta that drivers can get heated up cause of adrenaline over the radio. It’s like the same when you get heated over a video game, it’s the same with everyone else but yes max was a bit over the top. But whenever he complains when the car is good it’s he’s complaining over nothing but when the car isn’t good it’s oh max is on a tantrum again??? And then this person uses Max’s sleep as an excuse?? He got 7.5 hours of sleep hello😭 he won a race before in the same conditions with less sleep. (I think 4 or 5 hours? For imola) no one said shit when he did that. These people are angering me but I shall calm and not reply anymore to keep me sane 🥹🙏 Trust in the max Verstappen factor (Red Bull has to let that go tho😭)

Thats okay anon, sometimes it's nice to have a bit of a vent and then we can try and push those people out of our minds. I actually still don't think Max was over the top at all (I also suspect it was a result of some building tensions about things going on at red bull)

I know it's easy to say but it is honestly not worth the time and effort to argue with most people. They just don't like Max. Max could save someone's life and they would call him out for not saving two people's lives. They will never be convinced no matter what you say.

All driver's rant on the radio and I don't blame them, I rant when I am sat at my desk doing my no stress office job! I remember Lando telling his race engineer to shut up in Sochi, I remember Lewis complaining about the car to the point Toto told him to be quiet and drive it, I remember Bottas complaining about strategy, Fernando complaining he had a GP2 engine, even Kimi Raikkonen who doesn't like to talk unless necessary has ranted many many times on the radio and called the team out. They literally all do it and this isn't me calling out those other drivers, I support them getting out their frustration in the moment if they need to.

Max gives a lot of feedback even when the car is going well and so he should. If something isn't perfect he should call it out, this is a sport that relies on development so call out everything and see if it can be improved!

As for the sleep, I am not sure why people think they know how much sleep Max needs to function! If he had 8 hours would that be okay for them?! Where do we draw the line? Do they complain about other driver's having lots of extra curricular activities that make take up mental capacity. Again, the just don't like him. That man looked radiant all weekend, he is getting more than enough beauty sleep.

Red Bull can absolutely not afford to lose Max from that team and I think if they tried to restrict his sim racing he would be off.

[ikemengoessbrrrrr]

TCR X GENSHIN IMPACT AU

Mind you, I have this idea in my head for really long time, so I decided to let it out

For you guys who may not really familiar with Genshin story or lore its alright! Because they don't really have anything to do with main story and all you need to know about them in this au is they life in Fontaine, one of the places in Teyvat.

The Cat Bureau is a service place like in the movie where anyone can come to them if they need help or request. But instead being hidden, the Bureau is pretty easy to find and most people in Fontaine know about them.

EY! Here my design for Haru Yoshioka! Kinda having hard time and mostly dunno what am I doing when drawing her.

Haru is originally from Inazuma (Japan inspired place in Genshin, another place in Teyvat), She's been alone since something happened with her hometown way years ago and been wandered. She moved to Fontaine after she chose to work at Cat Bureau. Haru has Anemo vision and a claymore user. (Which I need to change the design cuz wtf is that)

Baron's design is basically his original design but with improvisation lmao

Like in the movie, he also own the Bureau in this au, the difference is the bureau always respond to his magic and emotions. Baron here is a Yokai who has been lived 300+ (pretty young for immortal being). In the past, he actually had Dendro vision originally but get taken away after massacre he did way years ago. Yeah, he was not a good person, he was a Yokai who choose to make chaos and won't hesitated to kill especially humans, that massacre is end point. As punishment, his vision gets taken away also with his freedom. That was 100+ years ago and now he is getting calmer and better, also he gets another vision (Cyro) for his dedication.

Tho, he still needs supervision until now (Yep, by Toto)

[a-forbidden-detective]

Today an article came out about the two Ron Kamonohashis playing in the TV anime, Youhei Azakami, and onstage next month, Yuta Kishimoto. Both have given their thoughts about playing the forbidden detective, how they differ, and how they approach this role.

Yuta Kishimoto and Youhei Azakami (whose stylish pullover makes me dizzy), two Rons onstage and the TV anime

It is a long article. So you are in for a long ride! Also, this is a rough translation with the help of an app. So apologies in advance.

—oo—

Having played Ron in the TV anime’s 1st Season, could you tell us again about the charm of this work that you are playing?

Youhei Azakami (hereafter, Azakami): It's a work packed with an incredible amount of coolness. The characters and the story are like that, but the original work features Amano-sensei's wonderful illustrations that make you want to frame each page like a painting. Among them, there are various aspects such as cool serious scenes and, conversely, comical scenes, which made it very appealing as I read through the manga.

When it was adapted into an anime, it was a pressure for us cast members, but I think the animators also felt pressure because they had to faithfully and dynamically animate Amano-sensei's drawings. However, when I watched the completed work as a viewer, I felt a sense of pride and confidence that we were able to create a wonderful piece of work with everyone's efforts.

That's why I truly believe that the charm of this anime lies in the fact that these incredibly cool illustrations were properly animated, with fitting voices and music added. I think it's a comprehensive art form.

Were there any things you were conscious of while performing, or things you noticed during your performance?

Azakami: When I project the character Ron onto myself while acting, I find that he's a bit out of sync with others, so it becomes confusing. Like, why would he suddenly insert a joke in such an important scene, or how can he maintain himself with such drastic shifts? So, I thought it might be more interesting to play him as "mysterious" without getting too emotionally involved.

Therefore, rather than "becoming Ron," I focused on bringing out the "interesting parts" of Ron's character. I think that approach worked well in the end. I felt that it would be more enjoyable for the audience to perceive the character as cool or funny, rather than focusing on consistency.

On the other hand, Kishimoto-san, you will be playing Ron from now on. Could you tell us what you are thinking about in terms of character development at this point (before rehearsals)?

Yuta Kishimoto (hereafter, Kishimoto): Regardless of this work, I'm not the type to rigidly decide everything in advance. Acting is a conversation, isn't it? It's something that is established through live conversations between people, so if you decide everything too rigidly, you might not be able to react when something unexpected comes your way.

So, I only decide on a big axis... I incorporate the Ron that Azakami-san created as a core within myself, and then line up the movements from the anime. From there, it's about how Toto (Isshiki Totomaru) and I move on stage, how we want to present ourselves. If Toto presents himself in a certain way, maybe Ron should present himself like this, or something like that.

That's why, surprisingly, at this point, I don't want to decide too much. I want to value what is created when we actually face each other.

What do you think is the appeal of Ron?

Azakami: If you think about whether you could be friends with him, I think you'd be quite overwhelmed (laughs).

Kishimoto: It would be unbelievable if he were close by.

Azakami: It really would be. However, when you team up as buddies and solve cases together, you realize there's probably no one more reliable. From that buddy perspective, or when he becomes your ally, I think you can really notice his dependable qualities, but it's not easy (laughs).

Kishimoto: If he were the culprit, I definitely wouldn't want to meet him (laughs). It feels like he can read everything. His insight and sharp perspective are just... Once you're found, or targeted, it's over, so you definitely want him on your side.

Azakami: You don't want him as an enemy. That might be something we both agree on.

Since the topic of buddies came up, I'd like to ask about the relationship between Ron, whom you play, and Toto, who is his counterpart.

Azakami: The character Toto takes on the role of someone who can act in place of a person forbidden from being a detective. If that's all there was to him, Toto's presence might seem a bit thin, but he has a passion and a sense of justice that won't tolerate wrongdoing, and he can prioritize someone else's life over his own. Those are his strengths, and I think Ron is probably influenced by them as well.

In the anime, Junya Enoki plays Toto, and he performs with a warmth and a sense of human touch, breathing life into the character beyond just his role or icon status. Thanks to that, the dynamic between Ron's eccentricity and the two of them being an odd pair is created. For viewers, it might be easier to empathize with Toto than with Ron. (Italics mine)

Kishimoto: This is my first time working with (Yutaka) Nozaki-kun, who plays Toto, and it's his first stage performance in six years. In another interview, he mentioned that he's both excited and nervous. I feel that this will allow him to create a very "pure Toto." I think that as Nozaki-kun faces the role, he will naturally become Toto.

To fully convey Toto's charm, the role of Ron, who is his counterpart, is crucial in bringing it out. I hope we can develop a relationship where we complement each other and fit together perfectly.

As we continue with rehearsals, many challenges will arise. If we can overcome these challenges together, I believe we will naturally be able to convey a sense of partnership and relationship.

With the 2nd Season of the anime and the stage performance starting this fall, could you tell us about characters other than Ron that you are paying attention to in each work?

Kishimoto: For me, it's definitely Milo (Moriarty). He's a character who is the complete opposite of Ron, as the cases he causes are 100% unsolvable, so I find myself empathizing with him or getting drawn to him.

Even when watching the anime, I end up viewing it from Ron's perspective, thinking, "This guy..." He's a character that's hard to grasp, but I'm paying attention to his future actions.

Azakami: I think everyone really looks exactly like their characters based on the visuals. There are many characters and actors that catch my interest, but the one I'm most interested in is Professor Grizzly.

In the anime, Mr. Yamaji played the role of Professor Grizzly. He was a senior with many years of experience, and recording with three or four people in the same booth was incredibly educational due to the tension. When the oldest person joins a group of younger people, they have to deliver the best performance and also show their seniority. It's about properly demonstrating that.

The character of Professor Grizzly itself draws attention, making you wonder what kind of performance he will deliver. I think he will become a character with a slightly different atmosphere from everyone else, and having such a senior person on set can really tighten things up. Although I am a voice actor, I am also an actor, so I would like to see the balance and interactions in such situations.

Kishimoto: I have previously worked with Sohei Izumi, who plays Grizzly, and he is incredibly captivating (laughs).

In both anime and stage performances, there is the aspect of playing the same character, but I believe the approach is different. Anime captivates with voice alone, while stage performances captivate with the whole body. I would like to hear about the joys and challenges of acting from each perspective.

Azakami: Stage performances are tough, aren't they? The visual aspect—such as the body and appearance—is something you can't really change. You have to express a character that seems to have come out of a two-dimensional world with your own body.

As you mentioned earlier, it's a process of repeatedly rehearsing and internalizing the character. That's something we voice actors can't quite do, and there's a certain admiration for it.

Voice actors inevitably read scripts, and the premise is to act as if you're not reading. Creating lines from within yourself is something I've always respected and admired, so I'm looking forward to this stage performance.

Kishimoto: On the other hand, we can let the audience feel the character through various elements like visuals and sound, but for voice actors, it's just the voice, right? I can't imagine captivating an audience with just the voice. We have many tools and weapons at our disposal. But to challenge with just the single sword of voice is kind of otherworldly...

Azakami: We both have that feeling, don't we? The grass is always greener on the other side. This is the first time a character I've played is being brought to a 2.5D stage, so I think it's going to be a great learning experience, and I definitely want to see the performance.

Kishimoto: Thank you, it's an honor!

By the way, as someone who has played Ron a little earlier, do you have any advice for Kishimoto-san?

Azakami: Many people refer to me as the original, but since the stage and anime are different media, I would like them to be treated as completely different things. The approach might be entirely different, and I want to see that. I want to see things from a different angle, like "I would approach it this way" or "Kishimoto-san does it this way," things I couldn't see myself.

So, although I've been told that you've watched the footage many times and listened to my voice, from here on, I would love to see the character that Kishimoto-san creates, and I hope the fans will feel that both are the original.

Kishimoto: I have nothing but words of gratitude. I want to cherish the "Ron that only I can portray," and I want to value everyone else besides Ron as well. I hope to deliver something that makes people say, "This is unique to the stage," or "This is how the stage version is."

On the contrary, if even one more person is inspired by the stage performance to check out the original manga or anime, I would feel that "it was worth doing the stage." Therefore, I truly want to cherish the words I have just received and approach the rehearsals with that in mind.

For both of you, not just in the case of Ron in this work, but as actors, could you share what you do, what you keep in mind, or what you are careful about when creating a character?

Azakami: I believe that every character possesses a sense of humanity, so I want them to have weaknesses as well as strengths, and to have flaws as well as beauty. I always think about wanting to bring out those aspects somewhere.

In the case of Ron, even though he is so cool, once he becomes weak, he can't do anything without Toto. I want to emphasize those uncool aspects. Otherwise, I feel the character would become superficial and not three-dimensional, so I want to value the character's shortcomings more than their strengths. (Italics mine; and also Me: screaming internally !!!)

When it comes to playing a character, the character profile often lists strengths, but not weaknesses. I sometimes think that maybe I should just create those weaknesses myself, or perhaps it's something I'm entrusted with.

Kishimoto: Of course, in the original work, everything is depicted in great detail, but I place importance on how Ron spends his time in the background of scenes where another character is in the spotlight, even though they are in the same space.

Additionally, I often think about "What would Ron be thinking?" or "How would Ron face this situation?" especially during rehearsal periods or when engaging with the work, and even at times that have nothing to do with it. Sometimes I get too immersed, but I believe that time spent thinking about these things is very important.

This is because, after all, theater is a living thing, and accidents or unexpected events can occur during performances. But in such times, the thought process of "What would Ron do in this situation?" that I've repeatedly considered naturally comes to the surface.

I've had experiences where by following the path of "I would do this, but Ron would probably move like this," I've reached important points. So, in this work as well, my approach is to think about "What would Ron do...?" in various situations.

Are there any highlights for the 2nd Season of the anime and the stage play?

Azakami: There is a kind of relationship that has been built among the actors since the 1st Season. The atmosphere on set is really good, and every time we have guest actors playing roles like the culprit or the victim, a variety of luxurious cast members come and go. This makes each case have a completely different vibe. It's amazing how much the atmosphere can change depending on the cast, to the point where it feels like we're doing a completely different work.

Of course, the main team that works together... the sense of closeness with these reliable companions has really tightened. The interactions and atmosphere created from that closeness were established in the 1st Season, so in the 2nd Season, I hope we can deliver that to everyone through various approaches.

There are many moments where viewers might think, "Ah, the dialogue exchange between these two was really on point," and I believe that's something we could achieve because it's the 2nd Season. We enjoyed the recording process that much, so I hope everyone looks forward to it.

Kishimoto: In this production, there are several cast members I've worked with before, but like Nozaki-kun earlier, there are also many people I'm meeting for the first time. I am confident that because it's a gathering of people who are new to each other, various chemical reactions will occur. Of course, I think there will be challenges because of that, but I also believe there are things that only this group can achieve, so I want us all to embody that together.

Also, I really want to emphasize the interaction and buddy feeling with Toto. I think it's a significant part of the fun in the original work and the anime, so I truly want to face that with Nozaki-kun and express the duo of Ron and Toto together.

Since we have the opportunity, could you both share the points you're looking forward to in each other's works? Azakami-san, for the stage play, and Kishimoto-san, for the anime's 2nd season.

Azakami: As I mentioned earlier, this is my first time having a work I'm involved in adapted into a 2.5D stage play. Creating a character using my entire body and interacting with others, and then delivering that to the audience, means that we'll definitely notice points that we didn't catch during the anime recording.

There might be scenes where Ron's posture or gestures, or lines that aren't in the original work or the anime script, are expressed. The instinctive reactions to accidents, as you mentioned earlier, are something that can only be discovered by someone who is facing the role as an actor, so I think I'll take advantage of that (laughs).

There are many things I want to absorb from Kishimoto-san's portrayal of Ron, and I'm looking forward to it both as a single work and from an actor's perspective. Honestly, I kind of hope a little accident happens (laughs). I'm curious about how they would handle it (laughs).

Personally, I'm really bad at ad-libbing. When I'm asked to say lines that aren't in the original script, I find it quite challenging (italics mine). I worry that I might be personalizing the character too much. But when I think about how actors should, in a way, become like that, I realized that I'm not good at ad-libbing.

However, rather than trying to create it on my own, I thought I should learn from various people, so please let me learn [from you] (laughs).

Kishimoto: Since the 1st Season ended the way it did, I'm very curious about the movements of the M Family. Up until now, there have been individual incidents, and a story with slight connections has started to emerge. But it's becoming heavier and more serious. I'm particularly interested in the M Family, who seems to be working behind the scenes of these incidents.

However, as the series becomes more serious, I'm looking forward to seeing characters like Ron and Toto, who we couldn't see in the 1st Season, and exploring their new relationships.

Lastly, please share a message for the fans who are looking forward to the anime and stage play.

Kishimoto: First of all, I am personally very happy that it can be adapted into a stage play, and I am truly delighted to be able to play Ron. However, since I have been given this opportunity, I believe it would be meaningless if people don't say, "I'm glad it was Yuta Kishimoto." So, I want to approach this in a way that will definitely make people say that.

However, a stage play cannot be established by myself alone. I am supported by all the staff, and although I am given the opportunity to perform in a double lead role with Toto, the actors who solidify the performance are all senior to me. I hope to absorb as much as I can from their acting and ultimately be able to output as "Ron." I would be delighted if you could enjoy the live performance and "Kamo Ron Stage."

Azakami: With the airing of the 2nd season of the anime and the stage performance happening at the same time, I really feel that the work "Ron Kamonohashi’s Forbidden Deductions" is expanding. I'm truly glad to have had this opportunity for a discussion.

I think it's quite rare to have a discussion where you play the same character. Isn't it a very mysterious time? That's why I love the work that gave us this opportunity and the movement of the entire work. I would be delighted if you could support the original work, the anime, and the stage performance as a whole.

(Thank you Animate!)

[blorbocedes]

“Toto Wolff has had a meeting with Jos Verstappen in the Bahrain paddock. When asked about the possibility of Verstappen joining Mercedes in 2025, Wolff responded: “Anything is possible.”

This comes after reports that Jos Verstappen said that the Red Bull team could “explode”, and it is “in danger of being torn apart” if Christian Horner stays on as team principal.”

User blorbocedes, is it over?

there is one man in redbull who is completely irreplaceable. and that is max verstappen.

max verstappen is not leaving redbull while it's the fastest car. and he's not leaving for fucking mercedes, which isn't on pace to be second fastest car

sure you can argue "max is leaving to protest alleged sexual harasser team principal" and I would love to live in the world where men cared about women at the detriment of their own careers, but if this was true then max wouldn't hug said alleged team principal after a race win, or go up laugh with him of his own volition during practice. he quite simply does not care, he's just here to race

verstappen's camp ofc cares, and max lets them run it how they see fit in his best interests.

we know Jos doesn't like Horner, and he released articles since last year and even recently that he doesn't fuck with him for reasons he won't say. also not out of any ethical considerations (let's hear what the wifebeater has to say about the mistreatment of women), but because we can guess -- Jos does not like Checo, and Horner backs Checo. regardless, the reason does not matter — he wants Horner out.

After Redbull's former owner Dietrich died, there was a power vacuum in redbull and Horner stood a lot to gain as TP and CEO to become de-facto sole benefactor. RB Austria, the parent company, does not want that. During Dietrich's tenure, he trusted Helmut completely to make decisions on hiring new drivers, and we know Marko and Horner disagreed on promoting NDV, with Marko getting his way in the end and then quickly being embarrassed. Helmut and Jos are quite friendly, the way he isn't with Horner. You see the power struggle.

Jos has always had contact with Toto because he wanted to get 16 year old Max in Mercedes, and Toto couldn't. Every time Max's contract negotiations would come up, there would be Mercedes rumours and talks so that Redbull would clamp down and give team Max whatever they wanted (centre the whole team around him.) They maintained this relationship until 2021 silverstone.

Jos talking to Toto now is essentially drawing a line in the sand that either Max, the boy wonder champion this whole team is built around goes or Horner goes. Max wont go. But to earn that, Redbull has always caved and given Max what he wants.

and ofc Toto took the call because Max is forever his "one that got away" and would welcome in that silver shitbox with open arms, not that Max would accept

Is it over? Well, if Redbull is stupid enough to keep that liability of a team principal and tie their sinking ship to a man who creeped on his employee instead of keeping their multiple world champion and strongest driver on the grid happy then they deserve the pride before the fall, and lose it all.

[gryficowa]

Boycott!

I think I started creating posts too early (It's 5 p.m. here, it may be early in other countries, unfortunately, time zones are the worst enemy when it comes to reaching people)

Now that I have your attention:

[cthrnschumacher]

I'm Yours - Ch. 8 It's You

Y/N's POV

I finally take the chance to look up at him from kneeling in between his legs. The sight was beautiful, his chest still heaving as he came down from his high, the light sheen on his skin from the intensity of my action; my eyes finally met his, which had something other than lust laced in the gaze. Toto, finally gaining some consciousness, pulled me up from in front of him and pulled me onto his lap. He scooted us until his back was against the pillows and rested against the headboard of my bed. He pulled me in for a hug in which I rested my head against his chest, and my legs were tangled between his. We snuggled into each other, embracing the afterglow of our intimacy.

I couldn't tell you how long we stayed like this, but I felt serene. I know today will be short-lived, and Toto feels the same. I knew this would be the last time I see him, being physically near him, just to hold me; ironically, he's been the stability I've longed for. I've never been the one to let my heart determine my actions or just be flat-out smitten, but Toto broke through all of that and, in a matter of days, put me utterly speechless. I am so relieved and don't dare to tell someone how I genuinely feel for them because I've been broken several times. I was never anyone's first choice, and even when I approached someone just to talk to them only, to find out they called me psychotic behind my back or that they thought I wasn't okay trying to figure out why they were giving mixed signals and the best part was telling someone I loved them and the feelings where mutual between us for them to start a relationship with someone else. From those instances, I have had no choice but to pick up the pieces of my own broken heart, piece them back together, and guard them from the next person. From then on, it was hard to tell someone that I was interested because I couldn't bear putting the pieces back together; the pain over the years is unlike another and unbearable that I don't wish on my enemy. I get too easily attached and become emotional. I couldn't bear any pain. But these past few days, Toto has shown me what it means to care for someone other than yourself; he's been courteous, sweet and safe, which I yearn for. I wish I could tell him the number of times I would lay awake at night or the times I cried myself asleep wishing I could have someone to love, to hold, to care about someone and give my heart to them. I want to tell him someday how he was a breath of fresh air I never knew I needed from drowning for so long. As if he understood, to end my inner monologue preaching my painfulness of romanticizing love, he gently kissed the top of my head and squeezed his arms tighter around me. I couldn't help but just melt further into his arms.

"I'm going to miss this, miss you, just holding you, all of this pains me." he sighs and kisses the top of my head, "You know … I'm going to miss you too, Toto… We can still talk on the phone, video calls, and text. I know the time difference will be painful, but I need you, too." I shift out of his grasp to look him in the face, and he loses his grip around me to do so. His looks softened, "How did I get so lucky to find such a sweet girl like you?" he slid his hand up to cup my face and kissed the tip of my nose, and I couldn't help but smile softly at his comment. "You know, I could say the same about you." His lips curl up into a smile, and he pulls me in for a hug again; we stay like this for a moment, just savouring the physicality of our situation. I take the chance to draw back from his embrace, which he loosens and slides his hands to my waist. "On that note, would you like to come shower with me?" I couldn't help but reflectively bite my lower lip, to which my eyes dart back up to his, and his lop-sided smirk turns into a full-blown smile, and he says with such tenderness, "I would love to." Toto pulls the covers off our bodies, adjusts my legs, and is now straddling his lap. His hands slide to grasp the underside of my thighs, and I go to wrap my arms around his neck. He shuffles the both of us until his legs are off on the edge of the bed, and my legs are wrapped around his waist. He stands up with me in his arms.

I couldn't help but giggle at him carrying me as if I weighed nothing to him and headed out of my room and towards the washroom. "okay, Schatzi, I might need a bit of guidance on where it is," "Okay, we are almost there, its the room by the top of the stairs to the right" I feel him a nod, and he keeps making his way. Weirdly, I have never been carried in my home, but you let the feeling slide. We both enter the washroom. He gently places you back on your feet as you turn to get the water on, a little warmer for your liking, and I know Toto would do the same; I also make sure my bathrobe is there, and luckily, there is an extra towel for Toto to use, so you don't need to leave. You take the chance to get your hairbrush, as this would be the perfect opportunity to get your hair wet and rack product through it again. You can sense Toto watching you meticulously as you get prepared. You check the temperature of the water, and it's at the perfect temperature; you open the shower curtain, turn around and extend your hand towards Toto, signalling to take hold, which he does. You couldn't help but notice his demeanour; he keeps his gaze at your eyes or the floor, and his face supports a light blush. His cute, boyish grin makes you melt whenever he glances at you.

It was adorable that he is still a little awkward around you, as you are with him, so you decide to take charge. You pull the both of you into the shower and close the curtain as he enters behind you. You turn to pull the little lever to turn on the showerhead, to which your oblivious mind shoots out cold water, causing you to squeal at the sudden temperature change. Toto masks a chuckle while pulling you towards him for warmth, your back pressed against his front side. As you stand there like this, just looking up at him, without realizing, he now has his hand out, testing the temperature to see if it's finally right, which it is, and nudges you silently, telling you to step forward, with his hand still around your waist. Both of you are now under the stream of water; you turn around to face him, placing your hands on his torso, tipping your head back, closing your eyes, and allowing your head and hair to submerge and become soaking wet fully. From this action, Toto pulls you closer to him, peppering kisses to your jaw and neck, causing your lips to curl up. You slowly bring your head back up and open your eyes, locking them instantly with Toto's. You see the glimmer of tenderness and adoration. Feeling that you could get lost forever in his eyes, you break the gaze and shift ever so slightly towards the shampoo pump. Toto looks at your action and does the same. He is a little quicker than you, and he has the product lathering into your hair; you smile and turn around so he can have better access to your hair. He places a gentle peck on your shoulder, acknowledging the gesture. You couldn't help but let your eyes fall shut and hum at the sensation of Toto's hands massaging and lathering the shampoo into your hair and scalp. You knew he was a very tactile and physical man, but this let a warmth spread throughout your entire body that made you feel at ease around him without caring for the world around you; it drowned everything out and caused me just to let my eyes shut. He let his hands run delicately through your hair, as if not to pull or massage too aggressively not to cause any pain; it was entirely different than how you wash your hair. I felt his hands move away from my hair, and I hadn't noticed him grab the removable showerhead, where he started rinsing the shampoo from my hair. I had already felt the smile plastered on my face; he continued washing my hair but applied a bit of conditioner to it, ensuring it spread evenly. Taking the brush and running it through my soaked hair, he made sure to section the hair and run it through in small sections, detangling the hidden knots while attempting to cause minor pain. All these actions were tender, and you couldn't help but lean back into his front side. Every so often, I would place kisses on your shoulder. You could sense his concentration, wanting to learn your shower routine, hoping he gets it right. You never intended him to help, but it was something he did automatically. Once he had finished detangling your hair, he set down the brush and turned you around. He had a warm smile on his face, to which you motioned over to the washcloth; he took hold of it, applied a generous amount of shower gel and gently lathered your skin.

Toto's hands worked the lather into your skin with a tenderness that made your heart swell. His touch was gentle but firm as he knelt down, ensuring that every inch of your skin was cleansed and cared for. He moved up your legs with deliberate, careful strokes, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth radiating from the core of your being. The sensation of the washcloth against your skin, combined with the feel of his hands guiding it, made you feel more connected to him than ever before. When he finished with your legs, Toto stood up, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that took your breath away. He moved the washcloth to your arms, taking his time as he worked his way up to your shoulders, paying particular attention to every curve and line of your body. The suds dripped down, mingling with the water from the shower, creating a cascade of bubbles that danced along your skin. He then moved to your back, asking you to turn around so he could reach every part of you. You complied, leaning forward slightly and feeling the pressure of his hands as they worked the washcloth over your shoulders, spine, and lower back. He was thorough, ensuring every inch was covered, but always with a lightness that kept you at ease.

Once satisfied, he looked slightly surprised but quickly gave you a playful smile, raising his eyebrows as if to say, "Your turn, huh?" You nodded, your grin widening as you applied a generous shower gel to the cloth. The scent filled the small space, fresh and invigorating, and you took a moment to savour it before turning back to him. You took it, feeling a rush of affection for him as you began to lather his skin in the same gentle, loving way he had done for you. Starting at his shoulders, you pressed the washcloth to his skin, working it in small, circular motions. His muscles tensed slightly under your touch, but you could feel them relax as you continued, the warmth from the shower still clinging to his skin. You moved slowly, taking your time as you lathered his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath your hands. You couldn't help but admire how the soap suds clung to his skin, the contrast between the white foam and his tan complexion. His eyes were closed, and there was a peaceful contentment on his face, and it made your heart swell to know you could bring him this kind of comfort. As you moved the cloth lower across his abdomen, you felt the strength of his core muscles beneath your fingers. His body was firm, sculpted from years of dedication to working out and his rigid lifestyle, but there was a softness in how he responded to your touch that made you feel closer to him than ever before. When you reached his arms, you took extra care, running the washcloth down each one with slow, deliberate strokes. You briefly intertwined your fingers with him, squeezing gently before continuing to his hands. His hands, so strong and capable, were now relaxed in yours, and you marvelled at the tenderness he showed despite his strength. Toto opened his eyes, watching you as you knelt to wash his legs. You worked your way down, lathering each leg with the same care and attention he had given you, ensuring every part of him was cleansed. He watched you intently, a small smile playing on his lips as you moved back up, meeting his gaze again. You brought the washcloth back to his chest as you stood, moving it in soft, rhythmic circles. He leaned into your touch, his eyes half-lidded with contentment. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean in and press a soft kiss to his collarbone, feeling him shiver slightly under your lips. “Feels nice,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, sending a warm flutter through your chest. You smiled against his skin, your breath warm on his damp chest.

You could feel the bond between you two growing stronger with each tender movement and shared glance, filling you with a deep sense of love and connection. You finished by rinsing the washcloth and running it gently over his skin, removing the last traces of soap. The water cascaded down his body, washing away the suds and leaving his skin clean and refreshed. You took your time, savouring each moment, each touch, knowing that this was a memory you would hold onto for a long time. When you were done, you took a step back, admiring your work. Toto smiled down at you, his eyes full of affection and gratitude. He reached out, gently cupping your cheek in his hand, and you leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against your skin. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. The connection between you felt almost tangible, like a thread binding you together, tighter with every passing moment. When you were both fully rinsed and all the suds were washed away, Toto reached out to turn off the water. The sudden silence filled the bathroom, broken only by the soft dripping of water as it trickled down from your bodies. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as the last water dripped from your body. You stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth, until Toto slowly pulled back, reaching for a towel. He wrapped it around your shoulders first, rubbing your arms gently to warm you up, before grabbing another for himself. The tender care in his actions made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t help but smile up at him. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and wishing these last few days could last an eternity. He guided you out of the shower with towels around you, leading you to the sink, where you stood side by side, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Once you were mostly dry, Toto took your hand and led you to the mirror above the sink. The steam from the shower had fogged up the glass, but he wiped it clean with the edge of his towel, revealing your reflection side by side. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight—the two of you, hair damp, cheeks flushed, looking like a perfect pair. Toto reached for a comb and gently ran it through your damp hair, ensuring no tangles were left behind. You closed your eyes, enjoying the moment's soothing motion and quiet intimacy. Eyeing the hair products, a determined look in his eyes as he prepared to help you style your hair. You couldn’t help but chuckle softly at his focus, knowing he was doing his best to take care of you in every way possible. He took a chance to assess how to proceed until he looked at your eyes and motioned over which to apply first; he applied a small amount of leave-in conditioner, evenly distributing it from root to tip. The way he moved with such care made you feel cherished as if you were the most important person in the world to him. He repeated all these actions with the curl cream, mouse, and gel. You couldn’t help but lean back slightly as he worked, resting your head against his chest. He paused momentarily, smiling down at you before continuing, his fingers deftly working through the tangles. You closed your eyes, enjoying the soothing rhythm of his movements, feeling completely at ease in his presence. Once your hair was fully detangled and styled to his satisfaction, he softly murmured, “Perfect.”

You opened your eyes and turned slightly to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was parted as it usually was, and the curls loose and damn but holding because of the product, and the soft waves from the shower still held their shape. It was simple, but it made you feel beautiful, especially knowing Toto had done it. He leaned down and kissed your temple, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled back with a satisfied smile. You turned to face him, brushing a damp strand of hair away from his forehead. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice full of affection. “Anytime,” he replied softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled down at you. With that, he took your hand again, leading you out of the bathroom and back into your room. The room was filled with the soft, fading light of the late afternoon, casting a gentle glow over the space. You felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you as Toto guided you toward the bedroom, where your clothes were neatly folded from earlier. He smiled at you, a mixture of tenderness and care in his eyes, as he picked up your clothes. “Let me help you,” he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet determination to care for you, even in the most minor ways. You nodded, a warm smile on your lips as you allowed him to gently guide you to sit on the edge of the bed.

Toto knelt in front of you, his large hands deftly picking up your underwear. He carefully guided your feet through the openings, sliding them up your legs with the utmost care. His soft and deliberate touch ensured that you felt comfortable and cherished with every movement. Once he had them in place, he reached for your leggings, repeating the process with the same tender precision. You watched him, your heart swelling with affection at how attentive he was to your comfort. He guided the leggings up your legs, pausing just before pulling them up, his hands lingering on your hips as he looked up at you. You nodded slightly, giving him silent permission to continue, and he did so, gently pulling the waistband into place. Next, he picked up your bralette, holding it with a delicate reverence. You leaned forward slightly, raising your arms so he could slip it over your head. His hands were careful as he adjusted the straps on your shoulders, ensuring it fit just right. Once settled, he reached for your hoodie, guiding your arms through the sleeves before pulling the fabric over your head. As he zipped up the hoodie, his fingers brushed against your skin, sending a soft shiver down your spine. You couldn’t help but smile at his meticulousness, ensuring you were dressed warmly and comfortably.

When he was done, you reached out, taking his hand in yours. “My turn,” you whispered, your voice filled with the same affection and care he had shown you. He stood up, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he handed you his clothes. You took your time mirroring his earlier actions as you helped him dress. You started with his boxers, guiding them up his legs and ensuring they sat comfortably on his hips. Next came his trousers, which you carefully pulled up, taking care not to rush as you adjusted the waistband. As you reached for his shirt, you noticed how he watched you with a soft, appreciative gaze. You couldn’t help but smile as you guided his arms through the sleeves, pulling the fabric over his head and smoothing it down over his chest. The feel of the material under your hands was familiar and comforting as you adjusted the collar and buttons. Once he was fully dressed, you stepped back, admiring your work. The two of you stood there momentarily, fully clothed yet still feeling that deep, intimate connection forged in the shower. Toto reached out, pulling you into his arms, holding you close as you rested your head against his chest. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion. “For everything.” You smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him tightly. “Anytime,” you whispered back, feeling a profound sense of contentment as you stood together, the outside world fading away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, tender moment.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, the moment's warmth faded as reality gently intruded. You could feel Toto’s chest rise and fall beneath your cheek, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming you, but there was a subtle tension in how he held you, a reluctance that spoke volumes. Toto slowly pulled back, his hands lingering on your shoulders as he looked down at you, his expression tinged with affection and regret. “I have to go soon,” he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of the inevitable goodbye. You felt a pang in your chest, the thought of him leaving tugging at your heart. But you nodded, understanding the demands of his life and the responsibilities he had to return to. “I know,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to keep your emotions in check. Toto reached up, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. “It won’t be long,” he promised, his eyes searching yours with a sincerity that made you believe every word. “I’ll keep in touch; I’ll call, text… whatever it takes. And before your fellowship starts, I’ll ensure everything is ready for you when you visit the Brackley.” You nodded again, finding comfort in his words, even as the sadness of his departure loomed over you. “I’ll hold you to that,” you replied with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and he kissed your forehead tenderly. When he pulled back, there was a spark of determination in his eyes. “Wait here,” he said suddenly, his tone filled with a quiet resolve as he stepped away from you and moved toward his bag.

Curious, You watched him as he rummaged through his belongings, pulling out a familiar black cable-knit sweater. It was one of his favourites, a piece of clothing you had seen him wear yesterday driving you home, and one that always carried his comforting scent. Toto walked back to you, holding the sweater with a small, affectionate smile. “I want you to keep this,” he said, his voice gentle. “So you can have a piece of me with you, even when I’m not here.” Your breath caught in your throat as you took the sweater from his hands, the soft fabric warm against your fingertips. It felt like a piece of him, something tangible to hold onto when the distance between you seemed too great. “Toto…” you began, your voice faltering as you looked up at him, overwhelmed by the gesture. He shook his head, cutting you off with a tender smile. “It’s yours,” he insisted. “Whenever you miss me, just put it on, and I’ll be right there with you.”

You couldn’t help but smile through the tears in your eyes. You hugged the sweater to your chest, feeling the warmth and comfort it brought, just as his presence did. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. Toto’s expression softened as he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he promised, his voice filled with a quiet determination that made you believe in the possibility. You nodded, blinking away the tears as you held onto his words. “And I’ll be ready to visit,” you added with a small, determined smile. He chuckled softly, leaning in to press one last kiss to your lips. It was slow, tender, filled with all the unspoken words that neither of you could express. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a moment, both of you savouring the last bit of closeness before he had to leave. “I’ll call you when I get to the airport, text before I board and depart, and as soon as I land, I will be in touch,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ll be waiting,” you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your heart.

Y/N's POV

I finally take the chance to look up at him from kneeling in between his legs. The sight was beautiful, his chest still heaving as he came down from his high, the light sheen on his skin from the intensity of my action; my eyes finally met his, which had something other than lust laced in the gaze. Toto, finally gaining some consciousness, pulled me up from in front of him and pulled me onto his lap. He scooted us until his back was against the pillows and rested against the headboard of my bed. He pulled me in for a hug in which I rested my head against his chest, and my legs were tangled between his. We snuggled into each other, embracing the afterglow of our intimacy.

I couldn't tell you how long we stayed like this, but I felt serene. I know today will be short-lived, and Toto feels the same. I knew this would be the last time I see him, being physically near him, just to hold me; ironically, he's been the stability I've longed for. I've never been the one to let my heart determine my actions or just be flat-out smitten, but Toto broke through all of that and, in a matter of days, put me utterly speechless. I am so relieved and don't dare to tell someone how I genuinely feel for them because I've been broken several times. I was never anyone's first choice, and even when I approached someone just to talk to them only, to find out they called me psychotic behind my back or that they thought I wasn't okay trying to figure out why they were giving mixed signals and the best part was telling someone I loved them and the feelings where mutual between us for them to start a relationship with someone else. From those instances, I have had no choice but to pick up the pieces of my own broken heart, piece them back together, and guard them from the next person. From then on, it was hard to tell someone that I was interested because I couldn't bear putting the pieces back together; the pain over the years is unlike another and unbearable that I don't wish on my enemy. I get too easily attached and become emotional. I couldn't bear any pain. But these past few days, Toto has shown me what it means to care for someone other than yourself; he's been courteous, sweet and safe, which I yearn for. I wish I could tell him the number of times I would lay awake at night or the times I cried myself asleep wishing I could have someone to love, to hold, to care about someone and give my heart to them. I want to tell him someday how he was a breath of fresh air I never knew I needed from drowning for so long. As if he understood, to end my inner monologue preaching my painfulness of romanticizing love, he gently kissed the top of my head and squeezed his arms tighter around me. I couldn't help but just melt further into his arms."I'm going to miss this, miss you, just holding you, all of this pains me." he sighs and kisses the top of my head, "You know ... I'm going to miss you too, Toto... We can still talk on the phone, video calls, and text. I know the time difference will be painful, but I need you, too." I shift out of his grasp to look him in the face, and he loses his grip around me to do so. His looks softened, "How did I get so lucky to find such a sweet girl like you?" he slid his hand up to cup my face and kissed the tip of my nose, and I couldn't help but smile softly at his comment. "You know, I could say the same about you." His lips curl up into a smile, and he pulls me in for a hug again; we stay like this for a moment, just savouring the physicality of our situation. I take the chance to draw back from his embrace, which he loosens and slides his hands to my waist. "On that note, would you like to come shower with me?" I couldn't help but reflectively bite my lower lip, to which my eyes dart back up to his, and his lop-sided smirk turns into a full-blown smile, and he says with such tenderness, "I would love to." Toto pulls the covers off our bodies, adjusts my legs, and is now straddling his lap. His hands slide to grasp the underside of my thighs, and I go to wrap my arms around his neck. He shuffles the both of us until his legs are off on the edge of the bed, and my legs are wrapped around his waist. He stands up with me in his arms.

I couldn't help but giggle at him carrying me as if I weighed nothing to him and headed out of my room and towards the washroom. "okay, Schatzi, I might need a bit of guidance on where it is," "Okay, we are almost there, its the room by the top of the stairs to the right" I feel him a nod, and he keeps making his way. Weirdly, I have never been carried in my home, but you let the feeling slide. We both enter the washroom. He gently places you back on your feet as you turn to get the water on, a little warmer for your liking, and I know Toto would do the same; I also make sure my bathrobe is there, and luckily, there is an extra towel for Toto to use, so you don't need to leave. You take the chance to get your hairbrush, as this would be the perfect opportunity to get your hair wet and rack product through it again. You can sense Toto watching you meticulously as you get prepared. You check the temperature of the water, and it's at the perfect temperature; you open the shower curtain, turn around and extend your hand towards Toto, signalling to take hold, which he does. You couldn't help but notice his demeanour; he keeps his gaze at your eyes or the floor, and his face supports a light blush. His cute, boyish grin makes you melt whenever he glances at you.

It was adorable that he is still a little awkward around you, as you are with him, so you decide to take charge. You pull the both of you into the shower and close the curtain as he enters behind you. You turn to pull the little lever to turn on the showerhead, to which your oblivious mind shoots out cold water, causing you to squeal at the sudden temperature change. Toto masks a chuckle while pulling you towards him for warmth, your back pressed against his front side. As you stand there like this, just looking up at him, without realizing, he now has his hand out, testing the temperature to see if it's finally right, which it is, and nudges you silently, telling you to step forward, with his hand still around your waist. Both of you are now under the stream of water; you turn around to face him, placing your hands on his torso, tipping your head back, closing your eyes, and allowing your head and hair to submerge and become soaking wet fully. From this action, Toto pulls you closer to him, peppering kisses to your jaw and neck, causing your lips to curl up. You slowly bring your head back up and open your eyes, locking them instantly with Toto's.

You see the glimmer of tenderness and adoration. Feeling that you could get lost forever in his eyes, you break the gaze and shift ever so slightly towards the shampoo pump. Toto looks at your action and does the same. He is a little quicker than you, and he has the product lathering into your hair; you smile and turn around so he can have better access to your hair. He places a gentle peck on your shoulder, acknowledging the gesture. You couldn't help but let your eyes fall shut and hum at the sensation of Toto's hands massaging and lathering the shampoo into your hair and scalp. You knew he was a very tactile and physical man, but this let a warmth spread throughout your entire body that made you feel at ease around him without caring for the world around you; it drowned everything out and caused me just to let my eyes shut. He let his hands run delicately through your hair, as if not to pull or massage too aggressively not to cause any pain; it was entirely different than how you wash your hair. I felt his hands move away from my hair, and I hadn't noticed him grab the removable showerhead, where he started rinsing the shampoo from my hair. I had already felt the smile plastered on my face; he continued washing my hair but applied a bit of conditioner to it, ensuring it spread evenly. Taking the brush and running it through my soaked hair, he made sure to section the hair and run it through in small sections, detangling the hidden knots while attempting to cause minor pain. All these actions were tender, and you couldn't help but lean back into his front side. Every so often, I would place kisses on your shoulder. You could sense his concentration, wanting to learn your shower routine, hoping he gets it right. You never intended him to help, but it was something he did automatically. Once he had finished detangling your hair, he set down the brush and turned you around. He had a warm smile on his face, to which you motioned over to the washcloth; he took hold of it, applied a generous amount of shower gel and gently lathered your skin.

Toto's hands worked the lather into your skin with a tenderness that made your heart swell. His touch was gentle but firm as he knelt down, ensuring that every inch of your skin was cleansed and cared for. He moved up your legs with deliberate, careful strokes, and you couldn't help but feel a warmth radiating from the core of your being. The sensation of the washcloth against your skin, combined with the feel of his hands guiding it, made you feel more connected to him than ever before. When he finished with your legs, Toto stood up, his eyes meeting yours with a softness that took your breath away. He moved the washcloth to your arms, taking his time as he worked his way up to your shoulders, paying particular attention to every curve and line of your body. The suds dripped down, mingling with the water from the shower, creating a cascade of bubbles that danced along your skin. He then moved to your back, asking you to turn around so he could reach every part of you. You complied, leaning forward slightly and feeling the pressure of his hands as they worked the washcloth over your shoulders, spine, and lower back. He was thorough, ensuring every inch was covered, but always with a lightness that kept you at ease.

Once satisfied, he looked slightly surprised but quickly gave you a playful smile, raising his eyebrows as if to say, "Your turn, huh?" You nodded, your grin widening as you applied a generous shower gel to the cloth. The scent filled the small space, fresh and invigorating, and you took a moment to savour it before turning back to him. You took it, feeling a rush of affection for him as you began to lather his skin in the same gentle, loving way he had done for you. Starting at his shoulders, you pressed the washcloth to his skin, working it in small, circular motions. His muscles tensed slightly under your touch, but you could feel them relax as you continued, the warmth from the shower still clinging to his skin. You moved slowly, taking your time as you lathered his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath your hands. You couldn't help but admire how the soap suds clung to his skin, the contrast between the white foam and his tan complexion. His eyes were closed, and there was a peaceful contentment on his face, and it made your heart swell to know you could bring him this kind of comfort. As you moved the cloth lower across his abdomen, you felt the strength of his core muscles beneath your fingers. His body was firm, sculpted from years of dedication to working out and his rigid lifestyle, but there was a softness in how he responded to your touch that made you feel closer to him than ever before. When you reached his arms, you took extra care, running the washcloth down each one with slow, deliberate strokes. You briefly intertwined your fingers with him, squeezing gently before continuing to his hands. His hands, so strong and capable, were now relaxed in yours, and you marvelled at the tenderness he showed despite his strength. Toto opened his eyes, watching you as you knelt to wash his legs. You worked your way down, lathering each leg with the same care and attention he had given you, ensuring every part of him was cleansed. He watched you intently, a small smile playing on his lips as you moved back up, meeting his gaze again. You brought the washcloth back to his chest as you stood, moving it in soft, rhythmic circles. He leaned into your touch, his eyes half-lidded with contentment. You couldn't resist the urge to lean in and press a soft kiss to his collarbone, feeling him shiver slightly under your lips. "Feels nice," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, sending a warm flutter through your chest. You smiled against his skin, your breath warm on his damp chest.

You could feel the bond between you two growing stronger with each tender movement and shared glance, filling you with a deep sense of love and connection. You finished by rinsing the washcloth and running it gently over his skin, removing the last traces of soap. The water cascaded down his body, washing away the suds and leaving his skin clean and refreshed. You took your time, savouring each moment, each touch, knowing that this was a memory you would hold onto for a long time. When you were done, you took a step back, admiring your work. Toto smiled down at you, his eyes full of affection and gratitude. He reached out, gently cupping your cheek in his hand, and you leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of his palm against your skin. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. The connection between you felt almost tangible, like a thread binding you together, tighter with every passing moment. When you were both fully rinsed and all the suds were washed away, Toto reached out to turn off the water. The sudden silence filled the bathroom, broken only by the soft dripping of water as it trickled down from your bodies. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as the last water dripped from your body. You stayed like that for a moment, wrapped in each other's warmth, until Toto slowly pulled back, reaching for a towel. He wrapped it around your shoulders first, rubbing your arms gently to warm you up, before grabbing another for himself. The tender care in his actions made your heart flutter, and you couldn't help but smile up at him. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and wishing these last few days could last an eternity.

He guided you out of the shower with towels around you, leading you to the sink, where you stood side by side, feeling a deep sense of contentment. Once you were mostly dry, Toto took your hand and led you to the mirror above the sink. The steam from the shower had fogged up the glass, but he wiped it clean with the edge of his towel, revealing your reflection side by side. You couldn't help but smile at the sight-the two of you, hair damp, cheeks flushed, looking like a perfect pair. Toto reached for a comb and gently ran it through your damp hair, ensuring no tangles were left behind. You closed your eyes, enjoying the moment's soothing motion and quiet intimacy. Eyeing the hair products, a determined look in his eyes as he prepared to help you style your hair. You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his focus, knowing he was doing his best to take care of you in every way possible. He took a chance to assess how to proceed until he looked at your eyes and motioned over which to apply first; he applied a small amount of leave-in conditioner, evenly distributing it from root to tip. The way he moved with such care made you feel cherished as if you were the most important person in the world to him. He repeated all these actions with the curl cream, mouse, and gel. You couldn't help but lean back slightly as he worked, resting your head against his chest. He paused momentarily, smiling down at you before continuing, his fingers deftly working through the tangles. You closed your eyes, enjoying the soothing rhythm of his movements, feeling completely at ease in his presence. Once your hair was fully detangled and styled to his satisfaction, he softly murmured, "Perfect."

You opened your eyes and turned slightly to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was parted as it usually was, and the curls loose and damn but holding because of the product, and the soft waves from the shower still held their shape. It was simple, but it made you feel beautiful, especially knowing Toto had done it. He leaned down and kissed your temple, his lips lingering for a moment before he pulled back with a satisfied smile. You turned to face him, brushing a damp strand of hair away from his forehead. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice full of affection. "Anytime," he replied softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled down at you. With that, he took your hand again, leading you out of the bathroom and back into your room. The room was filled with the soft, fading light of the late afternoon, casting a gentle glow over the space. You felt a deep sense of contentment wash over you as Toto guided you toward the bedroom, where your clothes were neatly folded from earlier. He smiled at you, a mixture of tenderness and care in his eyes, as he picked up your clothes. "Let me help you," he said softly, his voice filled with a quiet determination to care for you, even in the most minor ways. You nodded, a warm smile on your lips as you allowed him to gently guide you to sit on the edge of the bed.

Toto knelt in front of you, his large hands deftly picking up your underwear. He carefully guided your feet through the openings, sliding them up your legs with the utmost care. His soft and deliberate touch ensured that you felt comfortable and cherished with every movement. Once he had them in place, he reached for your leggings, repeating the process with the same tender precision. You watched him, your heart swelling with affection at how attentive he was to your comfort. He guided the leggings up your legs, pausing just before pulling them up, his hands lingering on your hips as he looked up at you. You nodded slightly, giving him silent permission to continue, and he did so, gently pulling the waistband into place. Next, he picked up your bralette, holding it with a delicate reverence. You leaned forward slightly, raising your arms so he could slip it over your head. His hands were careful as he adjusted the straps on your shoulders, ensuring it fit just right. Once settled, he reached for your hoodie, guiding your arms through the sleeves before pulling the fabric over your head. As he zipped up the hoodie, his fingers brushed against your skin, sending a soft shiver down your spine. You couldn't help but smile at his meticulousness, ensuring you were dressed warmly and comfortably.

When he was done, you reached out, taking his hand in yours. "My turn," you whispered, your voice filled with the same affection and care he had shown you. He stood up, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he handed you his clothes. You took your time mirroring his earlier actions as you helped him dress. You started with his boxers, guiding them up his legs and ensuring they sat comfortably on his hips. Next came his trousers, which you carefully pulled up, taking care not to rush as you adjusted the waistband. As you reached for his shirt, you noticed how he watched you with a soft, appreciative gaze. You couldn't help but smile as you guided his arms through the sleeves, pulling the fabric over his head and smoothing it down over his chest. The feel of the material under your hands was familiar and comforting as you adjusted the collar and buttons. Once he was fully dressed, you stepped back, admiring your work. The two of you stood there momentarily, fully clothed yet still feeling that deep, intimate connection forged in the shower. Toto reached out, pulling you into his arms, holding you close as you rested your head against his chest. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice low and filled with emotion. "For everything." You smiled, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him tightly. "Anytime," you whispered back, feeling a profound sense of contentment as you stood together, the outside world fading away, leaving only the two of you in this perfect, tender moment.

As you stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the moment's warmth faded as reality gently intruded. You could feel Toto's chest rise and fall beneath your cheek, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calming you, but there was a subtle tension in how he held you, a reluctance that spoke volumes. Toto slowly pulled back, his hands lingering on your shoulders as he looked down at you, his expression tinged with affection and regret. "I have to go soon," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of the inevitable goodbye. You felt a pang in your chest, the thought of him leaving tugging at your heart. But you nodded, understanding the demands of his life and the responsibilities he had to return to. "I know," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you tried to keep your emotions in check. Toto reached up, cupping your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing gently against your skin. "It won't be long," he promised, his eyes searching yours with a sincerity that made you believe every word. "I'll keep in touch; I'll call, text... whatever it takes. And before your fellowship starts, I'll ensure everything is ready for you when you visit the Brackley." You nodded again, finding comfort in his words, even as the sadness of his departure loomed over you. "I'll hold you to that," you replied with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. A soft chuckle escaped his lips, and he kissed your forehead tenderly. When he pulled back, there was a spark of determination in his eyes. "Wait here," he said suddenly, his tone filled with a quiet resolve as he stepped away from you and moved toward his bag.

Curious, You watched him as he rummaged through his belongings, pulling out a familiar black cable-knit sweater. It was one of his favourites, a piece of clothing you had seen him wear yesterday driving you home, and one that always carried his comforting scent. Toto walked back to you, holding the sweater with a small, affectionate smile. "I want you to keep this," he said, his voice gentle. "So you can have a piece of me with you, even when I'm not here." Your breath caught in your throat as you took the sweater from his hands, the soft fabric warm against your fingertips. It felt like a piece of him, something tangible to hold onto when the distance between you seemed too great. "Toto..." you began, your voice faltering as you looked up at him, overwhelmed by the gesture. He shook his head, cutting you off with a tender smile. "It's yours," he insisted. "Whenever you miss me, just put it on, and I'll be right there with you."

You couldn't help but smile through the tears in your eyes. You hugged the sweater to your chest, feeling the warmth and comfort it brought, just as his presence did. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. Toto's expression softened as he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "I'll be back before you know it," he promised, his voice filled with a quiet determination that made you believe in the possibility. You nodded, blinking away the tears as you held onto his words. "And I'll be ready to visit," you added with a small, determined smile. He chuckled softly, leaning in to press one last kiss to your lips. It was slow, tender, filled with all the unspoken words that neither of you could express. When he finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a moment, both of you savouring the last bit of closeness before he had to leave. "I'll call you when I get to the airport, text before I board and depart, and as soon as I land, I will be in touch," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I'll be waiting," you replied, your voice steady despite the ache in your heart.

You both held hands out the corridor of your room, him slipping his loafers back on and touching the door he came from. He took a few steps down and turned back to you again; now at eye level with you, he dropped his bag down, allowing both his hands to be accessible to only cup your face for one last kiss. He paused for a moment, giving you one last lingering look, before he turned and walked out of the garage and to his car, leaving behind a silence that felt both comforting and lonely. You stood there for a moment, holding his sweater close, the scent of him wrapping around you like a comforting embrace. The room felt emptier without him, but the shirt in your hands was a small reminder that he wasn't truly gone. You slipped the shirt over your head, the fabric soft and warm against your skin. It was oversized, the sleeves hanging past your hands, but it made you feel closer to him, as if he were still there, holding you. As you settled onto the bed, you couldn't help but smile at the thought of the next time you would see him, the promise of your visit to the facilities before your fellowship beginning to take shape in your mind. Until then, you had the sweater, the memories, and the certainty that he would do whatever it took to keep your connection strong, no matter the distance.

[totowlff]

chapter two — teaching methods

➝ curiosity got the better of toto and he's back at ava's apartment, ready to play her game. he just need to know if she was looking for someone to play with…

➝ word count: 3,1k

➝ warnings: smut, d/s dynamics, masturbation (in a way), foot fetish (if you squint)

➝ author’s note: going through one of those difficult weeks where you think the only solution is to die. i should probably be monitored or something. i hope you like the chapter.

As the numbers glowed red on the elevator's LED panel, tension twisted Toto’s stomach. He couldn't help but feel anxious, especially considering what he was about to do in a few minutes. However, it wasn't like he could blame his own impulsiveness in being there.

The decision to message Ava and ask if he could stop by her apartment that night was carefully thought about for a long time. He gave even more attention to that than to the latest car-related reports of the season that was about to begin. Just one of the consequences of walking into the wrong door the night he had dinner at that flat in Chelsea.

Since then, that place had become a constant presence in Toto's thoughts. It was as if he was unable to think about anything other than being there, in front of Ava again, feeling her touch set his skin on fire. In that position, he would be able to do anything for her.

Itt was scary, even for him.

When the elevator stopped on the sixth floor, Toto let out a heavy sigh, trying to focus on what he would say to Ava once he saw her. Maybe it would be better to be honest with her, say everything at once. Or would it be better to ask for something to drink? No, the best thing was to not give her time to say anything and just kiss her, hoping that she would understand what he wanted to say.

— Good evening, Toto — she greeted him, making him realize that she had already pressed the doorbell. “Shit”, he thought to himself, trying to draw some mental script of what he wanted to say — How are you?

— Good evening — he stammered — Everything’s okay. What about you?

— All good — Ava said, leaning her face against the wood of the door — Do you want to come in?

Answering with a positive nod, Toto entered the apartment feeling his heart beating heavy inside his chest. After taking off his shoes and hanging up his coat, he stopped to take a look at Ava. Wearing a short black satin set of button-down pajamas, he allowed Toto a little glimpse of her breasts as well as her legs.

“She’s so beautiful”, he thought to himself, before looking up from her cleavage to her eyes, that were trained on him. The feeling was that he had been caught doing something wrong, which made him swallow hard.

— Come with me — she said, walking into the living room.

Almost robotically, Toto followed her, his pulse roaring in his ears. Upon entering the room, he noticed that the television was on, some program with a man appearing to sing a rap in a baseball shirt standing still on the screen.

— I didn't expect you to come back here — Ava mumbled, making Toto suddenly look at her.

— No?

— The way you left that night, I thought — she hesitated, as she sat on the arm of the white sofa — I had scared you.

Toto blinked. That was definitely not the impression he wanted to give when he said goodbye to her like that. But at the same time, it was a little naive of him to think that she wouldn't see his action as him attempting to escape.

— No, no, you didn't scare me — he finally said — I just needed to... Think.

— Think?

— Yeah, think. To… process everything…

— Never seen a BDSM dungeon before? — Ava asked, dryly.

— No — Toto replied, innocently— Like, I knew that such a thing existed, but I'd never been in one before. Well, I still don't think I was, because your room doesn’t look like a dungeon.

She smiled, lowering her head.

— Well, that’s not necessarily my room…

— Don't you sleep there?

— No. Let’s just say that room is reserved for my guests.

— You mean — he hesitated for a few seconds — Your submissives?

Ava gave a suggestive smile.

— Apparently someone has been reading about it — she murmured, getting up from the arm of the sofa, her eyes fixed on his.

— Yeah, well — Toto stuttered, looking away from her. It was useless to deny that he hadn't researched that subject, trying to better understand what role Ava assumed within that room and what role he could assume to please her — I have…

The smile grew on her face as she slowly approached him. Toto felt his breath catch in his throat, his heart beating heavy in his chest.

— And what did you discover? — Ava asked, her face raised to his.

— So — he began to search his own memory, feeling completely lost with her proximity to his body — There is a dominant and a submissive. And the submissive does whatever the dominant wants.

A giggle escaped her lips.

— That’s… a bit inaccurate  — Ava said, raising a hand to fiddle with the collar of his shirt — Very much so, actually.

— Uh… Why?

— The submissive is the center of everything in BDSM — she explained — Without his knowledge and, above all, his consent, nothing happens in the bedroom. There is the idea that he does whatever the dominant wants, but the good dominant only does what is within the limits of his submissive. And within its limits, of course.

— And which are your limits? — Toto asked softly.

— Well, I'm what they define as a gentle dominant — Ava said, her hand sliding over the white fabric — I prefer to educate my submissives with positive incentives when they obey me and not necessarily through punishments when they do wrong things.

— You don't do physical punishments, then?

— If he deserves, I'll punish him — she murmured, her eyes going down his chest — And, even though I'm gentle, I don't usually show mercy if my submissive doesn't follow my rules.

— Tough love, then? — Toto asked, making Ava's fingers, which were brushing the three letters stitched right next to his navel, tense up. Looking up at him, there was a glint of distrust in them, before she smiled again.

— Yeah, something like that.

Silence stretched between them for a few seconds, uncomfortable enough that Toto finally felt the urge to finally say the three words that had made him drive here from Oxford.

— I want to… — he whispered.

— What? — Ava asked, looking a little shocked.

— I want to do this with you.

— You mean, submit to me?

— Yeah.

She took a step back, the expression on her face turning serious.

— You know that you can’t do it like that, don't you?

— But, I read that if both parties are comfortable with the idea, it is possible to…

— Toto, it's much more than agreeing to have sex with each other. We need to know everything about each other, about what we want and don't want to do, about our limits, health issues...

— Are you going to ask me for a blood test to see if I'm clean? Come on…

— I'm not going to risk my life to fuck you, no matter how handsome you are — she replied, crossing her arms — Besides, I don't know about your previous injuries, your allergies, your traumas...

— Do you want me to send my medical history to you so you can confirm whether or not you can whip me?

— Do you want to be whipped? — Ava returned, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Taking a step forward, Toto rested his hands on her hips, the soft satin causing a shiver to run across his skin.

— I want you to introduce me to your world, Ava — he said softly — I want you to make me yours. On your terms, within your limits, the way you want.

She pursed her lips, as if thinking about his words.

— Please, Ava. I just want to be yours — Toto whispered, his eyes fixed on the brown that stained the edges of her pupils. He felt his body tense, anxious about her imminent response.

— You know I won't do anything to hurt you, right? — Ava finally said, her hands landing on his wrists.

— Yes.

— You know that the moment you say the safe word, I'm going to stop, right?

— Yes — Toto replied — Red, green, and yellow, right?

— No, we won't use the traffic lights, this isn't driving school. You can choose a random word that is unlikely to appear in our scenarios and that is simple enough for you to remember. It could be an animal, a place, a fruit…

When she mentioned the word fruit, he smiled.

— Pineapple, perhaps?

— Perfect. As soon as you say that, or, if you can't speak, tap me three times, I will stop everything and give you the time and space you need, okay?

He nodded.

— As I said before, I am a gentle dominant, I will not insult you or degrade you in any way. I won't spit or do anything scatological. I will not force you to do anything without your clear consent. I will not risk your health or safety in any way, even if you beg for it. Inside these walls, my priority is that you're okay at the end of the night, right?

— Yeah — he said softly, something tingling just below his navel.

— So, are you sure you want this, Toto?

— Yes… Mommy? — he replied, somewhat uncertain about the form of treatment. She giggled, shaking her head.

— No mommy, no goddess. Ma'am or mistress is enough for me.

— Okay, ma'am — Toto said, a familiar warmth running through his body as he said the last word and saw Ava's reaction, who smiled with satisfaction.

However, contrary to what he expected, she walked away from him, heading back towards the white sofa. Then, sitting back down on the upholstered arm, Ava crossed her legs, watching him with a suggestive gleam in her eyes.

— Well, I believe we can begin your introduction to my world with rituals.

— Shall we light a fire? — he asked in a mischievous tone — Will we be dismantling your coffee table for tinder?

She smiled.

— Very funny, but no — Ava replied — Rituals or protocols, if you prefer, are the way we connect emotionally and psychologically with our roles within the scenarios of domination and submission. In addition to being visually pleasing, personally speaking.

—And what do you want me to do?

— First, I want you to be silent. The ritual is something important to me, I want you to respect it and follow it to the letter every time we meet, okay?

— Yes, ma'am — Toto said softly.

— Second, I want you to take off all your clothes.

Something about that sentence made his eyes widen.

— Here? — Toto asked.

— Did I allow you to question my orders? — she questioned him sharply. Her tone sent a shiver across Toto's skin.

— No.

— No what?

— No, ma'am.

—Then you will do as I say, without questions. Now, take off your clothes.

Swallowing hard, Toto moved his hands to the second button on his white shirt, slowly opening it. Sliding the fabric down her arms and placing it on the armchair next to him, he could feel Ava's eyes burning into his skin, assessing every exposed inch of his torso.

Then he opened his belt and then the button on his black pants. The sound of the metal buckle hitting the floor caused a new wave of heat to spread across his skin, especially when he noticed his own erection under his white underwear. It wasn't a surprise that he was aroused, especially after he had convinced himself that he wanted to submit to Ava.

He was surprised when he looked up at her.

— I said everything.

— The underwear too?

— Even the socks — Ava said, her face in a completely unreadable expression.

Concentrating on his own breathing, Toto slid his underwear down his legs, taking the opportunity to take off his socks. Even though the air in the apartment was a little cold, he felt his entire body pulsating, hot and pleading.

— Come here — she murmured, her eyes fixed on his member.

Toto approached carefully, one step at a time. Stopping just in front of her, he felt the air catch in his lungs as Ava analyzed his cock, almost as if he was evaluating whether he was suitable enough for her.

— I thought you were circumcised.

— Why would I be? — he asked softly.

— I read something about you being of Jewish descent.

He raised an eyebrow.

— Did you search about me on the internet?

Ava looked up at him as a finger slid down the underside of his cock. That subtle touch was enough for Toto to feel all his muscles tense, the air trapped in his lungs.

— It's none of your business.

— Of course it's my business, it's my dick — he said, only for a look from Ava for him to shut up, swallowing hard.

— If I said it's none of your business, Toto, it's because it's none of your business — she said, her voice stern as she took her hand away — And, if this wasn't your first time in a BDSM scene, I would punish you for being so insolent.

— You said you don't spank — he said in a low voice.

— I don't spank. My punishments are much worse — Ava returned, with a malicious gleam in her eyes — Go back to where you were.

Resigned, Toto stepped back, taking a deep breath.

— What now?

— Kneel — she said, in an imperious tone — And keep your head down.

As much as he wanted to question her, to understand the reasons why Ava was demanding that, Toto wanted to please her, he wanted to satisfy her, he wanted her to be happy with him. And she would only be happy if he obeyed her.

So Toto obeyed, in silence.

— Good boy — Ava said. And that was all it took for a hot wave of excitement to run down Toto's abdomen, making his dick twitch.

“Fuck”, he thought, exhaling slowly as he tried to focus on anything other than his own arousal or the clear liquid that had started to drip from his cock and run down his leg. He definitely needed Ava to do something, to touch him, to make him feel good, just like she promised.

However, she laughed.

— Are you already this excited, little boy? — Ava purred, moving from what Toto could see through his peripheral vision — I didn't think a guy like you would be so sensitive...

He pressed his lips together, trying to resist the urge to respond, to show that he was capable of bearing what she had in mind to take him to the edge of pleasure. However, he wanted to surrender, to allow himself to become putty in Ava's hands.

— Maybe I should discover which is your limit — she murmured just above him, her feet appearing just in front of him — How long can you last until I make you beg me to give you what you want.

Lifting one of her feet, her toes, whose nails were painted a delicate shade of nude, lightly brushed against his dick. That simple stimulus made Toto hiss, his eyes closing tightly.

— Can you tell me what you want, little boy? — Ava asked softly.

Toto's mind was a real mess. Horniness clouded his other senses, the only thing he wanted at that moment was relief, pleasure, Ava. He wanted her green eyes, her soft skin, her full lips. He wanted her hands, her tongue, her pussy. He wanted any crumb she could give.

— You — the word came out in a sob from Toto's throat.

He heard another laugh from Ava, who moved away from him again. With his skin almost feverish, his nails dug into the skin of his thighs in search of some other sensation that wasn't the pain of his desire.

Then, he heard the sound of satin, making his eyes shoot upward.

Ava had begun to open her pajamas’ shirt, revealing the curves of her breasts. Always covered by elegant blouses and modest necklines, they were the perfect size for Toto's hands. And he wanted to touch them, massage them, feel her nipples harden under his thumbs.

No, he didn't want to.

He needed to.

Then, their eyes met.

— Did I say you could raise your head? — Ava asked, sharply.

— Ava…

She huffed, closing the shirt around her body again.

— You know I don't answer to you by that name, boy — she said, slowly walking towards the couch and sitting down.

— Sorry, ma'am...

— I should have known you weren't ready — Ava murmured, crossing her legs.

— Ma’am, please — he whispered, seeking some compassion from her mistress. However, he only encountered painful indifference.

— Get up — she said, dryly.

Toto obeyed, feeling his shoulders tense and his legs wobbly as he stood up again.

— Get dressed.

He blinked, not understanding.

— What?

— Get dressed.. Now.

Swallowing hard, Toto began the painful walk back to his own clothes. Sliding the fabric over his skin was torture, especially close to his cock, which was still pulsing, hard and hot. When his pants lightly brushed against the tip that forced the fabric of his underwear forward, he couldn't hold back the loud hiss that escaped his lips.

This was torture. He was sure of it.

Once again dressed, he looked up again at Ava, who was staring at him in silence.

— And now, ma’am? — Toto asked, whispering.

— You leave — she said, with an almost devilish smile on her lips.

Toto had never felt such despair as he did at that moment.

— What? But, how? Why?

Ava silently got up from the couch, approaching him again.

— Remember what I told you about my punishments? — she said in a low voice — I may not spank, but that doesn't mean I won't make you regret not obeying me.

— But I obeyed…

— I hadn't allowed you to raise your face to me, little boy — Ava spat — And I can guarantee you that, if you want to play my game, you will follow my rules.

— Ava — Toto babbled, as she walked past him towards the hallway. He followed her almost immediately, thinking about how he could convince her to let him stay, to give him one more chance, to give him what he wanted so much and was completely desperate to have.

However, Ava was unyielding and this was reflected in the way she took his shoes and coat, stuffing them into his arms anyway, as well as in the way her hand was on his shoulder, leading him to the door.

— Please, ma'am, please — he tried to argue, as she opened the door and pushed him out — I promise I'll behave, please.

— Good night, little boy — Ava said, before slamming the door shut.

In complete silence, Toto felt completely pathetic standing there, staring at the light wood of the door. However, he couldn't move, completely shocked by what had just happened. He had given himself to Ava, saying he wanted to do whatever she told him and the great order of the night had been to go home.

“I really am an idiot”, Toto thought to himself, as he finally left the door behind.