#I decided to skip three years | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

voyter · 28 days ago

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CRIMINAL ! ... halloween special

pairing. jeon jungkook x fem!reader

your boyfriend ends up loving your costume idea for the two of you more than he initially lets on.

word count. 5.4k words warnings. jk and oc have matching costumes. vmin being the kings of halloween parties. slight crack. smut. roleplay dynamics. light bondage (handcuffs). oral (fem!receiving). handjob. unprotected sex (be safe girlies). switch!jungkook. switch!reader.

ana's notes. happy (late) halloween !!! this was originally supposed to be posted on the 30th but it wasnt finished .. so i was going to post it on actual halloween day but i got busy LMFAO IM A MESS !!! initially i wanted to do a kinktober but my ass couldnt even keep up with this so AINT NO WAYYY LMFAO IDK HOW YALL DO IT. BUT DONT FEAR ITS HERE NOW !! i had sm fun writing this, hope you love it as much as i do !! keep your comments positive or say nothing at all xx

For the past three years, Jimin and Taehyung have hosted their annual Halloween party. It's the one event they take seriously, spending hours planning the perfect invite list, décor, and food. Friends and acquaintances eagerly anticipate the night, knowing it'll be full of unforgettable moments, laughter, and chaos. Jimin and Taehyung always go all out, making their Halloween gathering the event of the season.

You and Jungkook have a tradition of matching costumes. The first year, you went as Harley Quinn, and Jungkook went as the Joker. That one's still one of your favorites — especially with Jungkook's green hair and tatted up face. He looked so good that night. The second year, you went for something bloodier: you, a sexy victim, and Jungkook as Ghostface. It was thrilling, especially when he made the night even better by fucking you with the mask still on. By the third year, you went classic as Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and Jungkook couldn't take his eyes off your tits spilling out of your corset. This year, you decided to skip the fictional characters and go with something a little simpler — but still hot. You were dressed as a cop, or rather, a slutty cop, and Jungkook was the prisoner.

"Don't you think this is a little basic?"

“Do you know how many people I’ve seen at these parties dressed as vampires and cats?” you retort, adjusting your costume and checking yourself out in the mirror. “Trust me, baby, no one cares.”

Jungkook, clad in an orange jumpsuit, glares at you through the mirror. "I just hate orange," he says monotonously.

You turn around and face him, giving him a smirk. "You'll survive. Besides, you make anything look good."

He smirks, leaning down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. Your arms snake around his neck, fingers threading through the hair at his nape. His hands roam from your waist to your ass, squeezing the soft flesh in his large palms, pulling you closer. But just as things start to heat up, you push him back with a playful grin.

"Not now," you say, breathlessly. "We have to be there in a few."

Jungkook huffs in frustration, but doesn't argue. And even though he's not thrilled about his costume, the way his gaze darkens tells you he's already imagining what's to come later tonight. He knows he'll get you out of that outfit later.

When you and Jungkook walk into the party, it’s all familiar faces. Laughter and cheers erupt the moment they spot you two, with Jungkook’s arms handcuffed behind his back, the bright orange of his jumpsuit standing out in the crowd. You guide him confidently by gripping his arm, playing the role of the stern cop escorting her prisoner.

Jungkook looks equal parts annoyed and amused, his usual cocky attitude momentarily restrained by the handcuffs, though the way his lips twitch hints at his playful frustration. The room seems to buzz with energy as people start teasing him the moment you step through the door.

“No fucking way you agreed to this!” Jimin exclaims, eyes wide in disbelief as he takes in the sight of Jungkook in handcuffs. Without missing a beat, he grabs the camera hanging around his neck, the polaroid already set and ready to capture every costume of the night. “Oh, I have to take a picture of this. Tae, hold my drink!”

Without waiting for a response, Jimin thrusts his red solo cup into Taehyung’s chest, some of the liquid sloshing out and soaking into Taehyung’s blazer. Tae rolls his eyes but doesn’t complain, knowing this is typical Jimin behavior.

Jimin hurriedly pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and pulls out the polaroid camera, eyes gleaming with excitement as he positions himself in front of you. You smirk, grabbing your belt, keeping your expression serious like a true cop on duty. Jungkook plays along, tilting his head to the side with a playful pout, his lips pursed like he’s posing for a dramatic mugshot.

With a click, the camera flashes, capturing the moment perfectly. A second later, the familiar buzz of the camera sounds as the polaroid slowly rises from the slot at the top. Jimin pulls the photo out, shaking it lightly as the image begins to develop.

“Had no choice,” Jungkook grumbles. “Whatever girlfriend wants, girlfriend gets.”

Taehyung laughs, shaking his head. “Bro, you’re so fucking whipped,” he teases.

“Fuck off,” Jungkook mutters, though he can’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “What are you two supposed to be, anyway?”

Jimin looks genuinely offended at the question, pulling his sunglasses back down over his eyes as if that alone should make it obvious. “Hello? Men in Black!”

He points his plastic gun at Jungkook. Beside him, Taehyung pulls out a shiny MIB card.

“Aw, I was really hoping you two would take my advice and go as Dumb and Dumber,” you pout, crossing your arms dramatically.

Jimin and Taehyung exchange offended looks, grimacing at your suggestion.

Jimin puts his plastic gun back in its holster with a flourish, shaking his head. “Respectfully, fuck you,” he replies, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You playfully lift a hand as if to strike him, your expression mock serious. Just then, more people start to stream into the home, their laughter and chatter filling the air.

“Well, since we are so extremely popular, we’ll meet back up with you guys soon.” Jimin says, turning to Taehyung, “We’ve got more people to greet.”

“Don’t get freaky in any of the bedrooms! I swear on my life I will kill you both,” Taehyung exclaims, shooting a warning glance over his shoulder as he follows Jimin into the crowd.

You roll your eyes, amusement dancing in your gaze.

"Alright, baby, can you take the handcuffs off now, please?" Jungkook whines, eyebrows knitting in genuine discomfort. "My arms are starting to hurt in this position."

"Keep begging like that, maybe I will," you tease, enjoying the playful power dynamic between you two.

Jungkook smirks, leaning in closer to amp up the charm. "Oh, please, officer? I promise I'll be such a good boy,"

You scrunch your nose in exaggerated disapproval. "Never do that again," you reply, trying to sound serious but unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips.

He chuckles, the sound warm and inviting, as you turn him around, your fingers brushing against his wrists. The thrill of the moment sends a rush through you as you unlock the cuffs with the small key, the metal clinking softly as you release him.

He turns around, his hands sneaking around your waist and pulling you closer, the warmth of his body igniting a spark of electricity between you. You smile up at him, feeling a thrill at the proximity.

“Shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice low and playful. “Now who knows what kind of crimes I’m gonna commit again?” He looks down at you, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, his eyes glinting with mischief.

“Careful, prisoner,” you warn, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Don’t forget, I’m watching you tonight.”

He holds his hands up in mock defense, a grin spreading across his face. “I promise to behave… for now,” he replies, the challenge in his tone clear as he leans in just a little closer.

You can feel the heat radiating off him, and despite your attempt to keep things light, the air feels charged with unspoken tension. “You’d better,” you say, trying to maintain an authoritative tone but failing as a smile breaks through. “I don’t take kindly to rule breakers.”

“Oh, I know,” he replies, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. “But I can’t help it if I’m naturally inclined to break the rules when I’m around you.” With that, he leans in, brushing his lips against your ear as he whispers, “What if I promised to make it worth your while?”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and you step back slightly to meet his gaze, your heart racing. “You’re incorrigible,” you say, shaking your head, but your smile betrays your amusement.

“Only for you,” he quips, and the way he looks at you… you just know this Halloween night was going to be wild.

You stood corrected.

A few drinks into Jungkook's system, and any pretense of annoyance about the costume was long gone. His hands seemed to find your waist every chance they got, fingers tracing the curves of your hips with a needy grip. His lips, once teasing, were now constantly seeking yours, trailing kisses from your neck to your lips whenever you were within arm's reach.

Even in a crowded room, Jungkook's attention was locked on you, his dark gaze following your every movement. And each time you caught him staring, he'd flash you a cheeky grin before pulling you into another heated kiss, making it clear just how much he was enjoying your costume — and the power it had over him.

Getting a drunk Jungkook home was a damn task. The moment you got him in the car, he was all over you. As you navigated through the quiet streets, his fingers slid up your thigh, kneading it with a firm grip that sent sparks of heat racing through you. Each touch made focusing on the road harder, especially when he leaned over the console, his lips grazing your neck in a series of lazy, warm kisses.

"Jungkook, you need to calm down," you warned, trying to keep your focus on the road as his kisses sent shivers down your spine.

He huffed, not wanting to stop but eventually relented, throwing himself back into his seat dramatically. He crossed his arms like a child who'd been denied his favorite toy, his lips forming a deep pout.

You glanced over at him, biting back a smile as he sulked in his seat. "Aw, I’m sorry baby. Almost home, then you can do whatever you want," you teased, knowing full well that his patience would snap the second you both stepped through the front door.

Like a bunny, his ears seemed to perk up at your words, his pout disappearing instantly. He sat back in his seat with a huge grin plastered on his face, the sudden shift in his mood almost comical. It was as if he'd forgotten all about sulking, now fully focused on the promise you'd made.

Surprisingly, Jungkook behaved as you both got out of the car and made your way to your apartment floor. He walked beside you quietly, though the anticipation was clear in the way he kept glancing at you, his grin never fully fading. His restraint was impressive, given how wild he'd been earlier, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, like a predator waiting for the perfect moment.

The second you unlocked the door, though, all that restraint snapped. Jungkook practically pounced, pushing the door closed behind you as he pressed you against it, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. His hands were everywhere at once — grabbing your waist, pulling you closer, one hand sliding up your back while the other dipped dangerously low.

Your sloppy kisses didn't break for a second as you stumbled through the apartment, laughter and heated breaths filling the air until you reached the bedroom. The second you got to the edge of the bed, Jungkook gave you a playful shove, making you fall back onto the mattress with a grin tugging at his lips. His eyes never left yours as he hovered above you, reconnecting your lips in a feverish kiss, his hunger for you palpable.

His mouth began its slow descent, trailing kisses down the curve of your neck, leaving a warm, tingling path in its wake. When he reached your cleavage, he paused, his lips lingering there as his fingers found the zipper of your bodysuit. With a swift motion, he unzipped it, freeing your breasts from the fabric. His eyes darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you, a low groan escaping his throat.

Without hesitation, he leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it in slow, deliberate circles. The sensation sent a shudder through your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as your back arched in response. Your hand instinctively found its way into his hair, gripping the soft strands, guiding him as he lavished attention on you.

Jungkook's mouth left your bud with a soft pop, his lips slightly swollen as he looked at you with a mix of desire and admiration. Without wasting a second, he pushed the rest of the bodysuit down your frame, his hands quick and eager as he stripped you of the remaining fabric.

“You seduce all the officers like this?” you tease, your voice light but laced with a hint of challenge as you looked down at him at the foot of the bed.

Jungkook paused for a second, momentarily confused by the question. But then it clicked, and when he realized you were still playing into the roleplay from earlier, his expression shifted. His lips curled into a mischievous smirk, eyes narrowing slightly as he fully embraced the dynamic again.

“Only the ones I can’t resist,” Jungkook murmured, his voice dripping with playful seduction.

His teasing words sent a shiver down your spine, the tension between you both thickening with every passing second. His hands moved with skilled precision as he unzipped your boots, tugging them off one by one. The boots were discarded carelessly, the clatter of them hitting the floor barely registering as Jungkook’s focus remained fixed on you, eyes dark and full of hunger.

With a firm grip, Jungkook tugged at the bodysuit, sliding it off your frame in one fluid motion, the fabric slipping away as easily as the last remnants of his restraint. He didn’t stop there — your fishnets followed quickly, leaving you in nothing but your panties. His gaze devoured you, his eyes darkening with each lingering second on your bare skin. He bit into his bottom lip, his excitement almost palpable as his eyes traced every curve of your body like he was committing each inch to memory.

Grabbing your ankle, he lifted your leg gently, a smirk playing on his lips as he began a slow, deliberate trail of kisses from your ankle up toward your inner thigh. Each kiss sent a jolt of heat through your body, his touch maddeningly slow, teasing you with every lingering press of his lips.

“If you’ll let me,” he murmured against your skin, his voice husky and full of promise, before kissing your thigh once more. “I did promise to make it worth your while.”

“Show me what you got, criminal,” you smirk, your voice laced with challenge and desire.

Jungkook’s smirk matched yours, his eyes darkening with intent as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties. In one swift, fluid motion, he pulled them down, the fabric sliding easily over your legs. The second they left your skin, his gaze fixed on the damp spot left behind, a low moan escaping his lips as his hunger for you deepened.

“Look at that,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. His fingers traced the wetness left on the cloth before lifting his eyes to meet yours, his smirk widening. “Already so wet for me, officer.”

The playful teasing from earlier had melted away completely, replaced with raw, undeniable need. Without hesitation, Jungkook lowered himself between your legs, his breath hot against your inner thighs. His lips hovered just above your core, his eyes flicking up to meet yours one last time before he leaned in, determined to show you exactly what he had in store. His tongue made the first slow, deliberate pass over your slick folds, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body.

Your body reacted instinctively to the sensation, arching your back slightly as a soft moan escaped your lips. You melted into the bed, fingers gripping the sheets tightly as waves of pleasure rippled through you, the intensity of it all leaving you breathless.

It was when he latched his mouth onto your clit, the cool metal of his lip piercing sending shockwaves through your body, that you felt a fresh wave of ecstasy wash over you. Your body shook involuntarily, a reaction to the exquisite pleasure he was delivering.

“So good, baby,” you moaned, your voice breathy and filled with longing as you looked down at the man between your legs. Jungkook’s eyes flickered up to meet yours, dark and smoldering, the corner of his mouth twitching into a playful smirk as he enjoyed your reaction to his ministrations.

"Yeah?" he mumbled, his lips brushing against your slick heat, sending a shiver up your spine. "Am I a good criminal, officer?"

Though it had started as playful banter back at Jimin and Taehyung’s house, the way Jungkook was slipping into this submissive role now felt different — kind of sexy. The intensity in his voice, the way he was looking up at you, it was doing things to you that you hadn’t quite expected.

You bit your lip, nodding as you reached down, finding his hand and intertwining your fingers with his. "Mhm, so good for me," you whispered, the words coming out more breathless than you intended. The shift in the dynamic added a new layer to the tension between you both, and you couldn’t deny how much you liked it.

He hummed in satisfaction against your skin, his tongue working skillfully, each stroke more deliberate than the last, as if determined to draw every last sound of pleasure from your lips. You could feel the tension building within you, and with every flick and suck, he pushed you further into a state of bliss. The warmth of his mouth, combined with the gentle squeeze of his hand in yours, only heightened the sensations coursing through your body. You could feel yourself unraveling, bit by bit, under his expert touch.

You lift your other hand, your fingers tangling in his soft, raven hair, pushing it back to reveal his forehead. The sight of his knitted eyebrows makes your stomach flip — he always does that when he’s savoring something, and right now, that something is you. Your grip tightens in his hair, pulling him closer, pushing his face deeper into you. His nose brushes against your clit with each motion, and you can't help but buck your hips slightly, your body moving instinctively as you practically ride his face.

Your moans become louder, filling the room with the raw sound of pleasure, almost pornographic in intensity. The way his mouth moves against you, his tongue expertly flicking and teasing, drives you wild. You feel his moans vibrate against your sopping pussy, sending shockwaves through your entire body. The more you push him into you, the more he responds, his hands gripping your thighs as he devours you, thoroughly enjoying every second of it. You’re lost in the heat of the moment, each wave of pleasure building to something inevitable, your body teetering on the edge of bliss.

With one final buck of your hips, his nose pressing firmly against your clit, the pleasure overwhelms you. Your release crashes over you like a tidal wave, your body trembling as you cum against his face. A loud, raw moan tears from your throat, your back arching off the bed as the intensity of your orgasm takes over. Your thighs instinctively begin to close around Jungkook’s head, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest — if anything, it only drives him further.

He stays right there, nestled between your legs, his tongue continuing to lap up every drop of your release. If he had it his way, he'd happily stay there forever. His hand gently caresses your thighs, soothing you through the aftershocks as your body relaxes, your breathing still ragged as you come down from the high.

Jungkook removes his hand from yours gently, rising up from the floor. Fully clothed, he crawls up the bed, hovering above you with a smirk that sends a thrill down your spine. His mouth glistens with a mix of his saliva and your slick, a tantalizing reminder of what just transpired.

Without warning, he leans down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of yourself lingers on his tongue, and you can’t help but moan into his mouth, the intimacy of the moment amplifying the heat between you. You feel him grinding his hips into your heat, seeking relief for the ache in his cock, and it drives you wild. The friction ignites another wave of desire, your body responding eagerly to his every movement.

He leans back down, reconnecting your lips, unable to get enough of you. The urgency in his movements tells you he's craving more, needing the connection as much as you do. Without breaking the kiss, you smoothly shift positions, pushing him back onto the bed. His body sinks into the mattress, and now it's your turn to be on top, looking down at him with a teasing smile. You sit up, fingers working the buttons of his jumpsuit as he watches you, his eyes dark with desire.

"Do good prisoners get anything in return?" he asks, his voice low, teasing.

"Yeah," you say with a smirk. "Freedom."

Your giggle fills the room as Jungkook kisses his teeth in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes at your cheeky response. Still, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, showing he's just as amused as you are.

"I'm sure there's other officers that'll give you something," you tease, your fingers still working on the jumpsuit.

"What if I want someone in particular?" he responds, his tone more serious, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

"I'm sure that can be arranged," you murmur.

With a smirk, Jungkook sits up swiftly, his hands making quick work of pulling the jumpsuit off his frame. The fabric falls away, revealing his toned, broad chest — the very sight that always makes your breath hitch. You can't help but admire him for a moment, your eyes roaming over every inch of him, from his sculpted chest to the way his abs tense under your gaze.

He catches the look in your eyes, his grin widening as he notices how you're practically staring. "Like what you see, officer?" he teases.

Ugh, slut.

"You know I do," you reply, your fingers tracing over the tattoos decorating his skin before you press your lips against his again, losing yourself in the kiss as your bodies draw closer.

Your kisses travel south, lips brushing over the warm skin of his neck, chest, and abs, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. When you kneel between his legs, you can't help but notice how hard he is. A wet spot glistens where he’d been grinding against you earlier, evidence of the friction that’s left you both desperate for more.

"Baby, hurry up," Jungkook whines, his voice thick with impatience, the need evident in his tone.

You raise an eyebrow, biting back a smirk. "Refer to me correctly," you command, wanting to tease him just a little longer.

He chuckles softly. "Officer, please hurry up," he says, playing along, his words dripping with need.

“Good boy,” you coo with a smile.

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his jumpsuit and boxers simultaneously, yanking them down in one swift motion. His cock springs free, hard and eager, the pink tip glistening with precum. It’s begging to be touched, twitching slightly under your gaze as you admire him, and you can feel the heat radiating off him.

You let your hand glide slowly up his thigh, teasing him with featherlight touches, savoring the way his muscles tense under your fingers. Jungkook's head falls back against the mattress, a low, desperate moan slipping from his lips as he exhales, his chest rising and falling with the anticipation building between you.

You giggle softly, enjoying how easily you’re driving him wild. Finally, you wrap your hand around his thick, hard cock, your fingers squeezing his length gently but firmly. His reaction is immediate — his hips buck slightly as he lets out a deep, shaky moan.

"Oh, fuck yeah," he groans, his voice low and husky, the sound making you smile even wider.

You start to stroke him slowly, enjoying the feeling of him pulsing in your hand. His hands grip the sheets, knuckles turning white, and his eyes squeeze shut in bliss. The way he reacts to every little movement you make has you feeling powerful, completely in control.

"My pussy turn you on this much?" you tease, your voice dripping with playfulness, a smirk tugging at your lips as you continue to stroke him slowly, deliberately.

Jungkook's moan deepens, his hips bucking slightly into your hand, completely at your mercy.

"Always," he groans, his voice breathless. "Can never get enough of it."

Such a sweet boy. You reward him by quickening your strokes, picking up the pace and driving him wild. His response is immediate — his body tenses, and a low, guttural moan escapes his lips.

Jungkook's hand darts to yours, gripping the one resting on his thigh, his fingers intertwining with yours tightly. His touch is needy, desperate, as if holding on to you will keep him grounded while the pleasure you’re giving him threatens to overwhelm him.

His breath becomes ragged as you continue working him expertly. He bites his lip, trying to hold himself together under your touch. You can tell he’s getting closer, every stroke pushing him toward the edge.

“W- wanna cum in your pussy, please,” Jungkook whines, his voice trembling with need.

You smirk, teasing him further. “Do you?”

He hums in response, the sound more like a moan, his desperation palpable.

“Okay,” you say, your voice soft but commanding. “Since you’ve been so good for me.”

You pull away from his cock, climbing on top of him, the hunger in his eyes unmistakable. Leaning down, you capture his lips with yours, and he responds eagerly, his hands sliding down the arch of your back, gripping your ass tightly, kneading it in his large palms.

Then, without warning, a sudden surge of dominance overtakes him. In one swift move, Jungkook flips you both over, hovering above you with a glint in his eye. He gives you a teasing peck on the lips, but before you can react, he flips you onto your stomach, effortlessly manhandling you as though you weigh nothing.

With your back turned to him, the sound of rustling heightens your anticipation. You can’t see what Jungkook is doing, but the moment you feel his grip on your arm, your heart races. The cold, familiar touch of metal against your wrist makes it clear — he's handcuffing you.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as he tightens the cuffs around your other wrist, pulling your arms behind your back. You’re completely at his mercy now, and the vulnerability only fuels the fire between your legs.

“Am I still a good boy?” he teases, his voice dripping with playful mischief.

“Bad boy,” you manage to reply, though the excitement surging through you betrays your words. The restriction, the control — it all makes your pussy throb with need.

The sound of the slap reverberates through the room, sending a sharp sting of pleasure coursing through your body. You jolt forward, moaning in response, your skin tingling from the impact. Jungkook grabs the chain of the handcuffs, pulling on it slightly, adding a thrilling sense of restraint to the moment.

His other hand grabs his cock, and you feel the deliberate tease as he slaps it against your pussy, spreading your slickness over his length. It’s torturous — how long he’s making you wait. But finally, after what feels like an eternity, he slowly pushes himself inside you.

You gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate him, while Jungkook releases a low, guttural groan, his breath catching at the sensation of being enveloped by your heat. He pauses for a moment, savoring the feeling, his fingers still gripping the handcuffs. The tension in the air is palpable, each movement sending shivers down your spine as he begins to move, his hips rocking into you with slow, deliberate thrusts.

Your breath comes out in heavy gasps, your face buried in the mattress as his pace quickens, his hips slamming into you with a steady rhythm. The sensation of being filled so completely has you whimpering, your body melting into the bed as you push back against him, craving more with every stroke. Each thrust is more intense than the last, the bed creaking beneath you as the slick sound of his cock sliding in and out of your wet pussy echoes through the room.

Jungkook’s grip tightens on the handcuff chain, yanking you back harder onto his cock. “All your other prisoners fuck you this good?” he growls.

A smirk curls your lips. He’s still milking this roleplay. He doesn’t voice it out, but he feels your pussy clench around him. You like this.

“Only you,” you moan, your voice breathy.

“That’s right,” he groans, his tone low and possessive.

Jungkook's pace quickens, the slap of his hips against your ass echoing through the room, his thrusts relentless. The headboard bangs rhythmically against the wall. He yanks the chain of the handcuffs harder, pulling your body back onto him in sync with every deep, punishing thrust.

Your body trembles beneath him, your moans now uncontrollable as the pressure builds to an almost unbearable height. Every drive of his cock inside you sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, his roughness pushing you to the brink. His deep groans mix with your cries, the heat between you reaching its peak, and you can feel yourself getting closer, your climax just within reach.

“You’re gonna cum for me, aren’t you?” he teases, his voice rough and low, dripping with lust. The heat in his tone sends another wave of pleasure coursing through you, and you can only nod, your voice caught in your throat as a moan escapes your lips, barely coherent.

His cock drags against your walls, hitting that perfect spot over and over, each thrust igniting a fire within you. Your body is a live wire, every nerve ending alight with sensation as the pressure coils tighter and tighter inside you, building towards a breaking point.

“Come on then, baby,” he growls, pulling you back hard against him, his grip firm and possessive. “Be a good officer and cum. I deserve it, don’t I?”

“Yes! Yes! You deserve it so much!” you manage to reply, the words spilling from your lips like a prayer.

“I’m such a good boy for you, huh?” he presses, his breath hot against your ear, his hips driving deeper.

“Such a good boy, my baby,” you affirm, your voice trembling with need.

With a few more final, deep thrusts, your body shudders as the last waves of your sweet release ripple through you, your pussy clenching tightly around him. That tightness pushes Jungkook over the edge, and with a loud, needy moan, he releases into you, his hips faltering as he shoots his load deep inside. His groan fills the room as his cock throbs within you, emptying himself completely, the warmth of his cum spreading through you.

For a moment, the only sound is both of your heavy breathing, the heat of the moment still lingering in the air as your bodies stay connected.

Jungkook carefully unlocks the handcuffs, freeing your wrists from the restraints. He tosses them aside, his concern immediately turning to you as he notices the redness on your skin. Gently, he takes your wrists in his hands, massaging them softly, his brows furrowed with worry.

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, his voice tender and full of concern.

“No, baby,” you reassure him, leaning in to kiss his lips softly, easing the tension he’s holding onto. You give him a few more sweet pecks, including one on his cheek, his boyish charm making you smile.

After cleaning up and peeing to avoid an infection, he helps you settle into bed, pulling you into his arms. His warmth envelops you, his face nestled against your neck, and you feel the soft brush of his breath against your skin. Your arms wrap around him instinctively, holding him close as the moment quiets. The heat from your bodies mingles with the gentle stillness of the room, creating a cocoon of intimacy and comfort that lulls you both toward sleep.

As your eyes grow heavy, his voice breaks the silence, low and a little playful. "I think I enjoyed that costume more than I thought," he murmurs against your neck.

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celestie0 · 3 months ago

Text

gojo satoru x reader | oneshot angst [18+]

title. let me be free of you

He would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

ᰔ pairing. friends to strangers au - best friend!gojo x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru, your love of a lifetime, tells you he’s engaged to another woman. inspired by the novel & netflix series “one day” created by david nicholls

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem!reader, angst, mentions of sex/explicit content, coming of age themes, reader & gojo are in their 30s, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of alcohol, cheating, lots of mutual pining & longing, bittersweet ending

ᰔ word count. 4.8k

a/n. hellooo! i've had this finished in my wips folder for a long time but never got around to posting it sooo just wanted to let it see the light of day haha. hope you enjoyyy <33

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“I’m engaged.”

The words leave Gojo’s lips as much less of a confession and more like a blabber, like a toddler desperate to keep conversation going in the face of a disinterested adult. Wasn’t how he expected to share the news of a lifetime to the love of his lifetime, but he hopes it breaks your heart to hear it.

He watches your eyebrows flatten from the crease that was bothering them before, and then slowly raise into soft arches above your eyes–those damn beautiful eyes that, even when they twinkle with hurt, still make his heart skip a beat in his chest.

He recalls for a moment the night the two of you met, drunk and dizzy from drinking out of a shared bottle of Prosecco, which only had half of the liquor left in it to start when he had first found it bleeding out to dry on the grassy lawn at the front of your university. It was graduation night, the last day to celebrate finishing four years of hell, and he had nothing to his name other than a rolled up diploma shoved in the pocket of his suit pants and the charm left in the youth of his smile. He wanted to spend the night with Aiko Rei, which was not a unique desire as most men on campus did, and he had a fair shot of getting into bed with her just like all those times before. But instead he was sitting at the top of a staircase inside the campus’s English literature building, making history in the crisp year of 1986 by being the first man of the robust age of twenty-three to pass up sex with the school’s lady heartthrob for–well, conversation with a sort of ditsy girl that he just met a half hour ago.

“What do you plan to do with your life?” he heard you ask him, a hard enough question to stomach when one is sober, and an impossible question to stomach when one is already trying not to puke flat Prosecco.

“Pardon?” he asked, in hopes to dissuade you from the question. In hopes that you’d get the hint. But you don’t. And he’d soon learn throughout the years of your friendship to come that you never did.

“Your life!” you exclaim, “we’re graduates now! What do you want to do with it?” You pat harshly at his thigh, closer to his groin than to his pocket, most likely because you’re tipsy too, but he realizes you’re referring to the rolled up paper protruding at the pocket.

Truthfully, Gojo had never thought much about what he wanted to do after graduation. Hell, he didn’t even think he’d make it this far. Not once since he got here, not once since he flunked out of first-year history, not once since his father passed away during his third-year final examinations, and most certainly not after he got caught having “unethical affairs” with his communications professor just two months ago. And yet the esteemed board of scholars decided he was fit for a diploma anyway, and now he’s answering to, effectively, a stranger what he plans to do with said piece of paper.

“I don’t know,” he says to you, “I’ll do whatever.”

Gojo Satoru could get by with doing whatever. He was good at everything he did. But his teachers and mentors and his own father would always warn him– son, it’s better to be an expert at one than a half-assed show-off in all. Well, they wouldn’t use the expletives, but that’s what it had sounded like in his head.

His dad would’ve liked you. He was always telling him to find a girl that challenges him, asks him the right questions, and pushes him to become a better man, the kind of woman his mother was to his father. Much opposed to the airheaded girls of Gojo’s college campus he would sneak into the house and forget to shoo off before sunrise, an occurrence that happened enough times for the respect in his father’s eyes to dwindle with each woman he’d watch his son dispel from their residence. Until eventually, Gojo started paying rent as punishment.

So, twenty-three year old Gojo, what do you plan to do with your life? Or do you have no idea of anything that extends beyond where you are right now, sitting across this strange girl you’ve just met on the death of your educational youth, at the top of a stairwell lined with passed out, drunk newly grads at nearly 4 in the morning? Right now, he’s eyeing the hem of your dress, the way it’s ridden up slightly but the mesh overskirt still tickles the skin of your thigh. He’s certainly able to picture what’s beyond that fabric, and maybe imagine the color of your panties, but what’s to come for his life? No. As previously mentioned, he never thought he’d get this far.

Gojo is thirty-four now, eleven years since that night the two of you met. And he sits next to you on a garden bench under a pitch black sky with stars speckled across, but only dimly visible.

It’s been years since he’s seen you. You two had a “falling out” at the cusp of thirty, almost a decade of friendship fizzled away, because of his selfish actions. He couldn’t let you go, but he couldn’t want you the way you wanted him either. He didn’t feel like he deserved to have you. You were too good for him, and he knew it. So he wasted a decade chasing after other women, and in return, he lost the one he knew he was supposed to spend the rest of his life with.

It’s the night of your college roommate‘s wedding, all gathered here today to celebrate their love, and he knew he’d run into you here. You were the bride’s maiden of honor, and you looked beautiful. With your hair half tied up, a pretty clip twinkling with every movement of your head, and with strands falling down over the smooth curve of your neck, bare skin of your chest tightly covered by the nude fabric of your dress. He was fully lusting after you, and he has been all night, the picture of beauty and grace, and it was wrong. Because, again, he’s–

“You’re engaged?” you finally break through his thoughts, break through the trance that he was lost in by the sea of your eyes. Forever pulling him in like you were a wicked siren for his soul, when all you’ve ever wanted from him was his love.

He shifts a little, the thick fabric of his navy blue suit stretching with the movement as he fidgets with his hands in his lap. He’s sitting close to you, his shoulder brushing against yours, the contrast of his broad masculinity so evident against the feminine curve of your bare arm, the thin strap holding up your dress threatening to fall down the hill. His thumb twitches, because he wants to pull it back up into place for you like a gentleman, but he’s not sure if that’s what his hand would actually do. Because all he really wants to do is peel the dress off of you.

“Yes,” he says, still tantalized by the glow of your skin under pale moonlight, “engaged.”

“To be married?”

“Well, what other kind of engaged is there?”

“You’re not allowed to get married.”

He snorts. “Says who?”

“Says me!” you exclaim, sitting up straighter, "I turn my back for one moment, and you've gone an got engaged? You're awful!" The strap of your dress falls down over your shoulder, his eyes immediately darting to it. He sees you pull the strap up back into place, and a flit of his eyes to your face reveals to him the slight dusting of an embarrassed pink to your cheeks.

There’s a silence that settles between the two of you. Distant commotion is heard, likely from the wedding venue as people engage in reception activities and dances and cheers, while the two of you remain in this garden escape, the wall of primly trimmed bushes sheltering you two from having to pretend to be people you’re not amongst a crowd.

“Aiko…” he hears you say beside him, and although the name of the woman that has rolled off your tongue is the name of the woman he’s supposed to love, it only makes him feel sick to his stomach to hear you say her name. “She seems lovely.”

“She is,” is all he can manage to say. And he also knows this seemingly lovely woman is probably drunk off her face back at the reception hall, giggling at all the men that approach her from the sight of her flushed face, and he should feel some sort of jealousy or possessiveness over that, but he can’t seem to muster any. Unlike the grit he had to his jaw an hour ago when he saw you dancing with a man he heard you introduce to your friends as just an “old friend” of yours from college. He felt more anger in that moment than he’d ever felt watching his soon-to-be-wife getting talked up to by the sleazy men twice her age.

“She must be very rich,” you say. “She looks it.”

“Oh. Yeah. Her family’s very well off,” Gojo says.

“So will you become rich too?” you ask him, “when you marry her.”

His eyes flit to the sky briefly. “Doubt it.”

“How come?”

“The old man doesn’t like me very much. I imagine he’ll cut ties after the wedding.”

“Her father?”

“Yes.”

“And why is that?”

“Well. I guess it’s not every father’s dream to find out his prim and proper daughter’s been knocked up by the good-for-nothing boyfriend he’s been threatening her to say good riddance to for months now.”

The silence finds the two of you again, but this time haunting and gutting. That was a blabber, if anything. So nonchalantly said, with no emotion or spirit, to the one person in this world who he’s always felt like he can be himself around.

“She’s pregnant?” you say beside him, voice breaking slightly at the end, and he can’t bear to look at you for some reason. Some sort of admission of guilt, but what for? What exactly was he repenting for?

He lets out a small laugh, like the absurdity of the situation finds him all the same. “Yeah.”

“That–” you start, stiff next to him, before he feels the tension relax but only rigidly, “that’s wonderful, Satoru. I’m–...I’m really happy for you.” You turn your torso to wrap your arms around him, and his lips brush the sweet skin on your forehead as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. He wraps one arm around you, a sort of friendly hug as he rubs the skin of your arm soothingly, and his heart aches from the emptiness when you release him.

“Wow…” you say, looking up at him with pretty eyes, eyelashes fluttering as you blink rapidly to process the information, and he wonders if you really are happy for him. He doesn’t want you to be. He wants you to be furious, to tell him off for getting another woman pregnant after leading you on for so many years, maybe he wants you to slap him, or grab him by the collar of his shirt and shake him until all he sees is a million of you through dizzy vision like some paradise. He wants you to be mad, because it’d mean that you still care. It’d mean that you still think there’s something here to salvage between the two of you.

But he’s engaged. And he’s having a baby. What was more final than that?

“So…are you marrying her because of–”

“The wedding is in four weeks,” he cuts you off, but he knows the statement answers your question regardless.

“Satoru…”

He leans off to the side a little to reach into the pocket of his suit pants, and he pulls out what is now a slightly bent envelope and he hands it to you. You take it from him gently, holding it weakly like it was something beyond you. Like something distant and foreign and strange. When all it was, is a wedding invitation.

“Listen…” he starts.

He sees your eyes dazed as you stare at the lettering on the outside of the envelope.

“We’ve been friends for a long time, y/n. And I know the last time we saw each other was–” Hostile. Angry. Disappointing. Ended with you cussing him out on the street and then saying you never want to see him again. “...not ideal, but I still care a lot about you, and, uh, so, it would mean a lot to me if you came to the wedding.” For fucks sake, even on the brink of losing you forever, he still can’t find the right words to say. “Aiko, she–” He tastes bitter in his mouth, “well, I’ve told her a lot about you, and she’d really love it if you came as well.”

You’re silent as you gently peel back the opening of the letter and then pull out the small card stock invitation. The gold printed letters shine as you inspect it, fingers tracing the patterns of words that profess the Rei family’s intent to wed their daughter to Gojo Satoru. Your Gojo Satoru. Your best friend in this whole wide world. He watches your eyes carefully, but he can’t discern what he finds in them.

“Gojo Satoru…” you drone off, “to be wed. And to be a father.” Years of late night talks of the future, of kids and Christmas and love, with reality seemingly sly on the horizon only to have crept up so abruptly. It was pinched between your fingers right now. That reality.

His shoulders sulk slightly. And when you look up at him again, there’s a sheen of tears in your eyes.

“I can’t come to this,” you whisper, “and you know that, Satoru.”

His heart breaks. A physical pain that twists in his chest so tight at just the sight of seeing you sad. Sad again over the actions of his own. They say you always hurt the one you love, and he had always wondered what sort of evil person would do such a thing, only to find out he’s only ever hurt you this entire time.

He should’ve kissed you that night the two of you met at graduation. Should’ve shut you up and all your existential questions by pinning you to a wall and pressing his lips against yours. He should’ve taken you to bed and fucked you, and then held you in his arms until you woke up in the morning. Should’ve listened to you talk his ear off about how he’s just like all the other guys, who pretend to care, but only want to have sex and then never to speak to the girl ever again. And he should’ve laid there in bed, nose nuzzled in your hair, taking all the scolding despite having no intent to ever leave you.

Instead, he wasted so much time. Sure, he had your friendship. His best friend for years, but the two of you could’ve been something more. Could’ve spent the years together, instead of writing stained letters or leaving messages on answering machines while the two of you were miles away. He could’ve been waking up with you every morning with the scent of your shampoo on his sheets, instead of clinging to pillows in foreign motel rooms. He could’ve been engaged to you, and he could be whispering sweet nothings in your ear of how much he wishes the baby will have your eyes.

But his thoughts are lost in fantasy. He is what he’s done, nothing more and nothing less. His eyes fall to your lap, the invitation still held loosely in your hand, and then a droplet of water falls onto it.

“I–” you stutter, wiping at the tears spilling down your cheeks with a hesitant swipe of your hand, “I need to go.”

You stand up off the bench and he quickly stands up with you, grabbing your wrist to keep you here with him, and you halt but only with you facing away from him. He yanks at your wrist harshly, pulling you into him so his chest is flush to your back, his arms wrapping strongly around you and his nose nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in greedily like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance.

“Satoru–” you gasp, your hands immediately grabbing at his forearms that are tightly crossed across your collarbone. “What are you doing–”

“Say it,” he whispers, gruff and impatient, “tell me to do it, and I will.”

“T-Tell you to do what?” you stutter, struggling a little in his hold but he only holds you tighter.

“Tell me to leave her, and I will,” he says, his lips brushing at your ear now, the scent of your perfume maddening to his senses, and one of his hands slowly trails down and the knuckle of his thumb presses into the softness of your breast.

You squirm, a small and soft moan leaving your lips.

“T–” you breathe in harshly, “this is wrong.”

“I don’t care,” he growls, arms sliding lower to hold you under your breasts, so tightly that your heels lift off the ground. “Just say the word, and I’ll leave everything behind for you. I promise,” he breathes in deep, the desperation making his head hazy, “that I’ll do things right this time. Just you and me–”

“You’re going to be a father,” you remind him, and he shuts his eyes closed tightly, the responsibility of the word bearing on his shoulders but his desire for you overshadows every shred of sense or dignity or integrity he has left in him, because he felt like he was losing his mind after wanting you for years just to never have you.

He turns you around in his hold so that you face him, and he crashes his lips to yours, muffling the surprised mmf! that dies in your throat in surprise as his hands hold your waist, relishing in the feeling of satin fabric pulled taut over your curves.

Forbidden, yet a taste that he’ll risk because there was no curse that was worse than the fate of having to pine after you for years.

Ah.

But.

But it was all fantasy, this moment in his head, where he takes you on the freshly cut grass of this garden.

Something that only briefly flashes through his mind as his warm hand wraps around your wrist, from where he was still seated on the stone bench, and not on his feet holding you like he dreamed for. Like he longed for.

He feels the weight of his arm so heavily, as if it weren’t his own, and he slowly lets go of your wrist.

When he looks up at you, there’s longing in your eyes. A hurt that he didn’t even know he was capable of causing, just for him to realize that you’ve always looked at him that way, and he’s never been keen enough to know it until now. He grew up too late. He took too long.

His phone starts buzzing in his pocket, and he reaches in for it, then flips it open and sees his soon-to-be-wife’s name on it. He feels nothing at the sight.

“Hello?” he speaks into the device when he holds it to his ear, and he sees you take a couple steps away, rubbing anxiously at your elbow as you pretend to busy yourself with the study of the lamp. “Yes, I’ll be there soon. I, uh, I’m just with a friend. A couple of friends, actually. We’re having drinks by the pond. Mhm. Yes. I will. Okay, see you soon. I—…I love you too. Bye.” And then he snaps the phone shut.

“Heading back?” he hears you ask.

He stands. “I’ve got to.”

“Okay.”

You two walk down the shrubbery of the garden that was arranged like a maze, him a few paces behind you, and he watches the delicate line of your posture as your hand brushes against the green walls of foliage that encase the two of you, the feeling of wanting to touch you and hold you almost suffocating.

“Hey,” he calls out to you, and he shoves his hands in his suit pockets. You turn around immediately to face him, like his voice was permission to do so.

“Yes?” you ask.

He blinks up at the starry sky, and then looks at you again. The soft cast of distant warm lighting falls over your face, making you appear like a renaissance painting, similar to those that you would point out to him at museums when you two would see each other on holiday back in your early twenties. He could never understand the charm of those paintings, no matter how many times you tried to explain it to him, but seeing you in this light right now, he finally understands the beauty that you saw.

“I’m, uh,” he rubs at the back of his neck, and then scoffs out a small laugh, “I’m a little drunk right now, but–” He stops himself. What was he trying to say? And was it of conscious mind? “I just need to tell you that…I really regret…not speaking to you. I mean, for letting the silence drag on for years. You’re my–...my best friend. We’re a pair, you know? The two of us. For years, people would ask me where you were. And why they haven’t seen us together at all recently. And it was hard to admit that we hadn’t spoken in years.”

You take the smallest of steps towards him, and look up at him with empty eyes.

“What I’m trying to say is, is that, well,” he finds himself tripping over his words, “I miss you. And I miss our friendship. And–...I miss having you around.” He glances down at his shoes, polished and reflecting off the moonlight directly above him. He rocks back and forth on his heels ever so slightly. “I know you said that I piss you off to lengths unimaginable to my tiny pea-sized brain, but I can’t help myself, y/n,” he admits, “I think you and I, we’re just meant to always be. In some how, or some way…”

You purse your lips together, gaze shifting lower to eye at the silk of his tie.

“Can we be friends again?” he asks, the words feeling juvenile on his tongue. Like whispered apologies between children on a playground after shoving one another onto wooden chips, except the wounds he’s left on you run much deeper than a superficial scrape.

You blink slowly, tilting your head up at him. “Friends?”

“Friends.”

You wipe your palm off on the satin of your dress. “I missed you too, you know.”

His eyes widened slightly.

Your hand finds its way up your arm, until you weakly cup your elbow with your palm and look off to the side, avoiding eye contact with him. “There were so many years where I thought that there was something between us. And maybe I was foolish for thinking that way, that you would ever see me that way–”

“y/n,” he tries to interrupt you.

“But…the pain of not having you the way I wanted to was much less worse than the pain of not having you at all,” you say, your gaze finally shifting towards him. “But, the thing is, I needed to feel that pain to get over you. I had to.”

His heart stills at those words.

You glance down at the ground now. “I missed being able to tell you things. To laugh, and cry, and argue. I miss humbling your stupid ego. I miss being able to call you at any time, knowing you’d pick up when I needed you.”

His heart aches so much he wants to reach into his chest and hold it.

“The thing is,” you continue, “you would’ve been the first person I would’ve run to to tell them that I lost my best friend.” There were tears shining in your eyes. “But what could I do when you were the one that I had lost? Who could I have turned to then?”

He lets out a shaky breath, and in a swift motion, his arm wraps around your waist and he pulls you to him in an embrace.

You’re stiff in his hold, mechanical and rigid, so contrary to the soft tears you leave behind on the fabric of his sleeve, but slowly and surely, you warm and thaw. Your hands slide up past his shoulders, linking behind his neck. And his head drops to the curve of your neck, swaying you with him slowly as if it were a first dance.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “for hurting you.”

You breathe out slowly. “Just let me go, Satoru. Let me be free. Let me be free of you.”

He feels the air knock out of his lungs, and the two of you slowly pull your heads away from the embrace to look at one another, although your hands still find a place on his shoulders, and he still holds you close to him by a delicate hold of your waist.

He wonders if in another life, you two were happy. He wonders if he could ever take back all the decisions he made, and start all over again. On that day the two of you met on that staircase in the west wing of the literature building, he would make a different choice. If he could, he would live in this lifetime of hell over and over again if it meant that in some other one, there exists a world where he never hurts you.

“It’s time for me to go,” you whisper, eyes darting across the features of his face, studying them but with a familiarity that only you know, because you held his entire life in your palm. Your gaze meets his again, faces just inches apart, and the sweet curl of your eyelashes makes him weak in the knees. “It’s time.”

He nods slowly, his own eyes studying your face as well, except it looks foreign to him now.

It’s all been said and done. There was nothing he could do to right the wrongs, or undo all the pain. He was to be a father now, and his duties were now towards his wife and unborn child. And no longer to the woman he holds in his arms, one he’s sure he will never stop loving for as long as he lives.

It’s a sweet moment, the two of you gazing at one another. You look so pretty from this angle, looking up at him with the smallest tilt to your head and round searching eyes. His head subconsciously dips down towards yours in the second that he glances at your lips, but he stops himself. And when you make no move to create distance, he finds himself closing it again, until his lips brush against yours ever so softly. And then he captures them in a kiss, firm and unmistaken, finding solace in the way your lips move against his too, unsure yet passionately at the same time. Your fingers ever so slightly dig into his shoulders while his thumbs soothe at the skin of your waist, the two of you savoring the last moments of a kiss that’ll be the sweetest one you’ll ever know.

You pull away first, a small puff of air leaving your lips as you glance downwards. He rests his forehead against yours, never once looking away from your face. And you both breathe slowly, the soul of the chaste kiss entirely vanishing into the air along with all the hope that the two of you had left to make anything of the way you feel about one another. It was a kiss that almost disqualified any level of sin or guilt or wrong, because it was like one you two owed each other, after years of familiarity and longing. It was the goodbye that the two of you deserved.

His hands slowly let go of your waist, and he takes a step back away from you, softly clearing his throat. The distance feels like a galaxy away, and he briefly runs his thumb along his bottom lip, because the ghostly feeling of your lips on his still remains.

“Shall we head back?” you ask him, prim and proper in posture and eyes widened in a formal gaze.

His lips are parted, and he finds that he’s panting slightly. And then he slowly nods his head. “Yes.”

[the end]

a/n. i am sooooo freaking obsessed w "one day" by david nicholls and really wanted to write something inspired by it!! the book literally ripped my heart out and stomped on it like there were so many scenes where i just longingly stared out the window because of how shattering it was but dear god i really enjoyed it, and the show was also so dfkjhsfkhs i had sm feels watching it. so yea this was fun to write!! i hope you enjoyedd n thanks so much for reading :)

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priniya · 3 months ago

Text

ᯓᡣ𐭩 PUPPY LOVER GIRL! ᡣ𐭩ᯓ

summary. upon coming to the race with your little girl, oscar and you are facing a challenging situation as your daughter gets completely enamoured with every dog she sees.

notes. oscar piastri x leclerc!wife!reader. first osc fic!!! (the obsession is getting out of hand). also pls let me know if you’d like to read something else with dad!oscar. also got inspired by @eccentricwritingbaby’s series with dad!lando!!!! didn’t proofread (idc)

dressed in an orange shirt with her dad’s number on the back, little chloe was an absolute ray of sunshine, whenever you took her to the race, which, honestly, wasn’t such a common occurrence as some people expected. your little girl loved coming to the race, mostly because it was a chance for her to meet all her favorite uncles in one place, while watching the cars drive really fast, which always made her giggle a little, especially once she started to recognize oscar’s car amongst others. despite her obvious love for the event, she was still a toddler and dragging her every other week to the airport to go to another country was something you and oscar decided to push further in time.

nevertheless, you could deny your husband the happiness of his little girl’s presence at his home race. as much as you hated the thought of such a long flight with a toddler, because the nice to melbourne flight was never a short one without any layovers, and you really tried to stick to at least some of chloe’s day schedule. but in the end it was the pure happiness in your husband’s eyes, when you spent two weeks in his home country before a race.

with said mclaren shirt with piastri written on her back, chloe was happily skipping, holding oscar’s hand as she looked around her, until a small gasp slipped her lips, freezing in her tracks, causing you to stop as well, your forehead creasing with confusion until your eyes followed hers. a puppy — simba, to be precise.

at first you thought she was scared, when her eyes widened in shock and, as you wrongfully assumed, fear, but she was quick to reveal her true feelings. a shy smile crept onto her face as she looked at oscar, who crouched to be on the same level as her. “daddy. i pet puppy, please?” her baby voice often made you and oscar’s mom jokingly call her oscar whisperer, because if you weren’t there to keep him in check, baby piastri would get every single thing she looked at. “let’s ask auntie kika first, okay?” oscar’s face lit up with a warm smile as he gently fixed his daughter’s piggytails.

back in monaco, you had a few situations, where you could learn your daughter how to behave around animals and she was picking it up pretty quickly. as horribly as it sounds, leo, your brother’s dog, was… a bit of a guinea pig, but since chloe was a literal little angel, who was afraid of making anyone sad (hence you had to put a ban on buying plushies as gifts, because she wanted every single one to sleep with her to the point where there was no more room on the bed for her), so there were never any fur or tail pulling, screaming into poor dog’s ear or anything that could cause any harm to leo and in consequence, to chloe.

a happy grin was plastered on her face, when kika and pierre walked up to them first, the girl quickly started gushing about the adorableness of her favorite papaya girl. “i pet puppy, please? ‘tie kika?” the three years old asked, holding her hands behind her back. “i gentle.” she adds, pointing at herself as if kika wasn’t completely drowning in the cuteness of the situation.

“of course, pumpkin. simba really missed you.” she chuckles softly, the two of you watching as chloe starts petting the small dog with delicacy, babbling something slightly incoherent to simba, who tried licking her fingers as she giggled. “you should get her a dog.” your friend laughed softly, nudging you with her elbow.

“we’re thinking about it, but i don’t think it’s gonna happen in near future.” you replied, a small smile tugging on your lips as chloe was completely infatuated with simba. “she’s still a lot of work, and you know how it is during the season, it’d be even more exhausting than it is now.”

few minutes later, after a quick chat with kika as you were walking down the paddock, catching up with oscar, who had to take a quick call. before you know it, your daughter squeales happily as she lets go of your hand, starting to run away, before oscar scoops her up in his arms. “hey, you can’t do that, squish.” oscar said gently. “you almost gave us a heart attack. if you wanna go somewhere, you have to tell us, okay?”

“suis désolée, daddy.” chloe replied a bit sadly as she pulled out her bottom lip. “but…” she scrunched her nose, unable to form a proper sentence in one language. “c’est uncle charles.” i’m sorry/it is.

“you still gotta tell me or mommy first.” oscar reminded her firmly, her sad pout breaking his heart a little, so… to change that, he smothered her face in small, quick kisses, making the toddler squirm in his arms, giggling cutely. “okay, c’mon, let’s say hi to uncle charles.”

as soon as baby piastri’s feet touched the ground, she ran for her life towards charles, the red pins in her hair being a small symbol of support for one of her favorite uncles. she was about to take a leap and jump into the driver’s arms, when she abruptly stopped mid-way, her mouth forming into a big ‘O’, girl’s attention has shifted from one beloved uncle to another as the youngest leclerc brother appeared in the line of her vision.

“uncle a’tty!” chloe squeaked even louder than before, happiness overflowing her adorable expression. arthur chuckled, taking a few long strides towards the three years old, before picking her up and doing a small spin, his niece erupting into a fit of giggles.

“my uncle a’tty.” she beamed, her arms wrapped around his neck, nuzzling her cheek against his. you could tell that your older brother’s heart just melted upon hearing chloe’s words, while your other older brother felt like he got stabbed with a knife.

“not a hi to your other best uncle?” charles asked in almost a desperate tone to get some attention from his favorite (and only) niece. oscar, you and alex just rolled your eyes playfully at his antics. a flicker of hope spread on his face as your daughter perked up slightly and let out a gasp.

“uncle lan?”

“oh, c’mon, squish.” your brother sighed, running a hand through his hair. a silly smile appeared on chloe’s face as she made grabby hands towards charles, who got over his exasperation pretty quickly. “play with leo, please?” she asks with big eyes and before you knew it, chloe was happily babbling to the mini dachshund.

although, the biggest fun she always had was with roscoe. mostly, because whenever she was around him, he was the chillest dog on the planet earth. she loved leo and simba, but they were still puppies with lots of energy and as much it would seem like chloe would love that, but when it came to doggies, she loved to just sit next to them and pet them endlessly.

that’s what she loved, whenever oscar and you took her to a race, that sometimes, beside being a bubbly little girl, cheering for her favorite person in the world along her second favorite person in the world, she could spend the time cheering and spending time with her favorite animals, while also being blissfully unaware of the tormenting of her mom’s brother.

2K notes · View notes

lavnderwonu · 18 days ago

Text

So High School | Kim Mingyu

pairing: fiancé!mingyu x pregnant!fem!reader

rating: fluff, mature

genre: non-idol au, slice of life, established relationship

summary: you and your fiancé haven't discussed the idea of you having children, but with your wedding approaching, the idea of starting a family with him has been on your mind.

warnings: please read ALL! contains smut! not much but a little! (!!!) some time skips, reader gets pregnant, planned pregnancy, reader's mom loves mingyu, reader deals with morning sickness (for my fellow emetophobics this may be triggering!), minwon coworkers mentioned, smut warnings: creampie, unprotected sex, multiple rounds mentioned, backshots, fingering.

word count: 3k

AHEM! go listen to so high school by taylor swift (perhaps while you read!)

author's note!: i listened to taylor waaaay too much while i was writing this, as you can probably tell by the title 🫣 what can i say! guilty. my first time writing slice of life au! i had fun lowkey. AGHHH i just love writing cute mingyu esp when it involves future dad mingyu. the song lyrics are meant to be spacers for the time-skips btw! shoutout to @jenoslutie for also supporting my vision with this 💋 muah xo

click here to join my taglist!

I feel so high school every time I look at you, I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you...

Mingyu was your dream man in many ways than one. The perfect boy to bring home to your parents, cooked delicious meals for you, and overall made you feel safe.

You two had been engaged for months now, and wedding planning was well underway, the date set for early into the new year. As if it wasn’t stressful enough, your mom had already started questioning whether the two of you had wanted children, or planned to in the future. The answer was always the same,

“Mom, I don’t know… we haven’t talked about it into a lot of detail… maybe later on…” or “C’mon, we’re still young, Mom!”

Mingyu didn’t know any of this, and you’d probably never tell him, not wanting him to feel pressured by your badgering mother. You both knew you wanted children eventually, but you never talked that far into the future.

But… you also thought… maybe you would want to have children, if it was with Mingyu.

Mingyu would be the father to play dress up and makeovers with your daughter, have tea parties with her, or play with faux tools with your son and pretend to fix things, and play with plastic dinosaurs.

You couldn't picture anybody that would be more perfect to do it with than him.

Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game, but really I'm bettin' on all three for us two...

Mingyu stands at the kitchen counter, cooking dinner like he usually does, and he usually insists since he gets home a little earlier from work than you do most days.

You come from the kitchen after changing out of your work clothes to see him chopping garlic as a pot is boiling on the stove.

“What are you making?”

“Agio e olio,” Mingyu responds, looking up to smile at you briefly. “I know it’s your favorite, and you said you were craving it.”

You smile, coming over to kiss him on the cheek quickly. “Thank you, you make it so good anyway.” You chuckle as he playfully rolls his eyes.

He tosses the garlic in a pan on the stove, stirring it a little, then adds the pasta to the boiling water.

You decide now is the time to break your silence, and tell him what’s been on your mind lately.

“Gyu,” You speak up. “… I think we should talk about something.”

“What?” Mingyu’s gaze turns to meet yours, a concerned look on his face, and you immediately want to kiss him and make it go away.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking…” You pause, racking your brain on how to word what you’re about to tell him, also given that you didn’t want to scare him. “What do you think about us… having a baby?”

You look up at his undeniable surprised expression; after all you did come out of nowhere with that statement.

“I mean, I know we haven’t really discussed it much, and we’re getting married in a few months… but I have been thinking about it a lot, and I want to, we’re at that age-“ You break out into a nervous ramble before he cuts you off.

“I’ve thought about it too. I thought it should be something that we should…you know… talk about.” Mingyu says.

“I don’t want to put any pressure on you, or I guess, on us.” You continue. “I know we’re not married officially yet, and our wedding isn’t until a few more months, but I don’t know, I think I want to.”

Mingyu turns to you, smiling ear to ear in the adorable happy puppy way he typically does when he’s over the top excited about something. “I know, me too.”

“Does this mean… we’re trying?” You can’t even hide your smile, your cheeks hurt as you attempt to be the least bit nonchalant.

“Yeah… fuck… c’mere.” Mingyu pulls you closer to him, kissing you fervently.

You pull back, releasing his grip from your waist.

“Hey, after dinner,” You smirk, giggling at his eagerness. “You’re gonna burn your garlic.”

“Mingyu… I can’t, fuck-“ You whine, your face nearly buried into the pillow underneath you.

“Yeah you can baby…” Mingyu grunts, his hand slides up your back to push you down even more. “Taking it all like a good girl…”

You nearly collapse as you can barely hold yourself up anymore, and you’re being pushed forward almost to the headboard from the force of him behind you.

“I’m gonna come, ‘gyu.” You cry, your hand trailing down to rub tight circles on your clit, making your thighs tremble as you push yourself closer to the edge.

“Go on baby…” Mingyu groans, feeling you get tighter around him. “Cum all over my cock like a good girl.”

You cry his name again as he pushes you over the edge, white-knuckling the sheets as he keeps thrusting inside you, almost even harder.

“Fuck…” He groans as he slows down, stilling before he comes inside you.

He pulls out, watching himself drip out of you briefly as he curses under his breath, before he pushes it back inside you with two fingers, making you whine.

“Sorry, baby…” Mingyu sweetly apologizes.

You flip over on your back, pulling him down to kiss him.

“I wanna go again…” You say against his lips, pushing his sweaty long hair back.

“Really?” He asks sweetly, leaning down to kiss your neck a few times. “Wasn’t too much?”

“Never…”

Truth, dare, spin bottles, You know how to ball, I know Aristotle Brand new, full-throttle, Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto...

The next few weeks were just the usual. Going into work during the day, shopping for the wedding with your sister, … Mingyu practically never leaving you alone, but that you wouldn’t complain about.

“What kind of flowers are you guys doing?” Your sister asks you. The two of you made plans to get coffee, and you guys typically talked about whatever. She always voiced her opinion on your life whether it was boyfriends, career moves, and now: your wedding.

“White lilies; one of my favorites. Mingyu said I could just pick what I wanted, he’s happy with whatever I choose.” You say.

“That’s sweet,” She smiles, stirring her matcha latte. “Even though, he probably doesn’t care.” She chuckles.

“You’re probably right, I think he has other things on his mind other than flowers.” You laugh, only you know what you mean by that.

You never told her the both of you had been trying to have a baby.

“I’ve always liked him, though, you know that.” She smiles. “If there’s anybody you marry and spend forever with, i'm glad it’s him. He’s just right for you.”

You smile, glancing down as your gaze flickers on your sparkling engagement ring under the coffee shop lights.

You’re definitely glad it’s him.

“Do you mind if we go into the grocery store down the street? I need to just run in and get a few things.” She asks you.

You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine. I could probably use a few things too.”

“How do you know if a watermelon is a really good one?” She asks you, as the fruit by the entrance catches her eye.

“You’re asking me?” You laugh. “I have no idea, I have heard though if they’re a dark green, it’s too watery.”

“You were always good at picking them, I know Mom used to always say that.” She replies. “Maybe I won’t get one, are they even in season?”

“Probably not, it’s November. Anyway, what did you need here?” You say, grabbing a hand basket for yourself.

“Just usual stuff, yogurt… eggs, oat milk, some strawberries… whatever else I find that I think i need.” She says, placing strawberries and avocados in her cart. Already straying from the list.

You follow her, bagging up some apples, cucumbers, and brussel sprouts into your basket.

You’re both wandering down the ice cream aisle, as you’re grabbing whatever pint of peanut butter ice cream you can find, when your sister speaks up.

“Oh! Let’s go to the hygiene section, I need to get some tampons. That time of the month soon.”

You pause, ice cream in hand, suddenly racking your brain trying to remember when the last time your period was. A few weeks ago? Last month? Were you supposed to get it? Were you late?

“Y/n…? What’s wrong? Everything okay?” She asks, seemingly able to read your inner monologue going on in your head.

“Y-yeah…” You reply, placing the ice cream in your basket, all while your heart is still racing. Was it joy? Nervousness? “It’s just… I can’t remember the last time I had my period…”

I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night Your friends are around, so be quiet, I'm trying to stifle my sighs 'Cause I feel so high school, Every time I look at you...

“I feel bad doing this without him,” You say, staring down at the two blinking pregnancy tests on the counter. “Mingyu should be here…”

“He’ll be home from work soon won’t he? You’ll tell him then. C’mon, he’ll understand, practically sister code for me to be the first one to know.” She replies, checking the time on her phone.

It’s true, you both always did tell each other everything before you told anybody else.

“It’s almost time.”

“I can’t look.” You anxiously turn away. “It’s killing me.”

“How did this happen?” She asks. “I mean… not to be nosey….”

“Well we talked about it, and we’ve been kinda… sorta, trying to get pregnant.”

“What?! How come you didn’t tell me you were?” She exclaims, playfully shoving you.

“We decided to about a little over a month ago. We talked about it, we decided it was something we both wanted,” You start, just as her phone timer goes off, you quickly turn around from the counter. “Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t look.”

“I’ll do it first,” She says, shoving her way in front of you. “Oh my god… y/n…” You can hear the excitement and smile in her voice.

You turn around, facing the two tests.

You see it, “pregnant”, displayed clearly on both.

“Oh my god, I don’t,” You almost stutter, lost for words. “I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Good news?” She asks.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You smile, suddenly becoming teary, feeling a bunch of emotions at once. Excitement. Nervousness. “I just- fuck… I wish Mingyu was here. I didn’t want to find out like this.”

“Relax, you’ll tell him later,” She laughs. “Especially ‘cause I know you won’t be able to keep this from him long.”

“No, you’re absolutely right. There’s no way I’m holding it in.”

And in a blink of a crinkling eye I'm sinking, our fingers entwined Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me...

You spend the evening trying to decide elaborate ways that you’ll tell him.

Putting a test in a gift bag as a present? Corny.

Hiding it somewhere and letting him find it? Too lame.

You decided to literally just come right out and tell him, especially because you didn’t want to figure out some cliche way of getting it out.

Mingyu comes home from work, greeting you as he walks in the door, adorably kissing your forehead as he wraps his arms around you, perfectly engulfing you.

“How was your day, honey?” He sweetly asks you, genuinely curious as he’s awaiting your answer.

“It was good actually, I had coffee with my sister, then we went to the grocery store, doesn’t sound like much but we had fun.” You lean up and kiss his lips, smiling.

“But it’s better now that you’re here.”

Mingyu smiles, kissing you again.

“I’m going to get changed really quick, okay?” Mingyu says.

You jokingly pout. “Aw, but you look so nice in your slacks and button up shirt… at least let me savor it.” You reach up, undoing a few buttons on his shirt.

“Enjoying this?” Mingyu chuckles.

“Yes, very.” You smile.

“Well I was gonna ask you, if you wanted to, Wonwoo and Seungcheol asked if we wanted to go out and get dinner with them, and hang out maybe get some drinks.” He continues, before he starts walking off to your shared bedroom to change, as you follow him. “Wonwoo asked me before I left the office.”

“I don’t know… maybe?” You reply, hesitating a bit.

Meanwhile your mind works a mile a minute trying to think of how to break this news of yours to him.

“It wouldn’t be until a little later, if that’s better. No rush.” Mingyu says, nonchalantly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off. What a distraction.

He slips on a white t-shirt , and gray sweatpants; his usual after work attire. Suddenly you wonder if whatever you have to tell him is really that important anyway, and you immediately consider just saying “forget it” and fucking him right here in the early hours of the evening. What’d be the big deal? You were already pregnant, anyways.

No! You quickly shake that thought from your mind, refocusing.

“Gyu,” You start, getting his full attention. “There’s something… I have to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I’m not even really sure how to tell you, um hang on,” You continue, leaving the room quickly to retrieve one of the pregnancy tests you’d left in the bathroom.

You come back, very obviously holding something behind your back.

“I guess I should say I kind of have a surprise to tell you.”

“What? What?” Mingyu asks, eager already by the way you’re already smirking, unable to contain yourself.

“It’s, um, this…” You start, pulling the test from behind your back. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was gonna plan something but I couldn’t wait.” You laugh, smiling ear to ear.

Mingyu takes it from you, seemingly uncaring, or forgetting, that you literally peed on the thing. His mouth drops opened, in awe.

“Oh my god…” He speaks, beaming. “When did you find out?”

“Today, actually.” You say. “I wound up taking a test, and… yeah.”

You sigh. “I feel so weird about it, I know I was expecting it but I feel so excited and nervous at the same time.”

You glance up at Mingyu, and you see him still examining the test in his hand.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu nods, his eyes meeting yours and you see he’s now smiling. “I’m just… happy, surprised..”

“I mean, cmon, what were we really expecting…” You joke, blushing.

“You know what I mean, it’s still crazy to me.” Mingyu comes closer to you, kissing you.

“Yeah, it sure is…” You smile up at him.

“It’s okay, honey,” Mingyu reassures you, speaking softly. “Just get it out…”

Mingyu kneels behind you on the cold tile floor, holding your hair back as you’re hanging your head over the toilet as your stomach empties its contents.

“There you go…”

You wonder how he can even stand to be in the bathroom with you, if the roles were reversed, you’d be outside the door nearly gagging.

“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, helping you sit up, as he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady.

You slowly nod as you flush, still feeling a touch of nausea. “Yeah, can you just- just stay here for a little bit.”

Mingyu sits on the tile floor as he leans against the bathtub, and he guides you back to sit in front of him.

You lean back into him, and he leans down and kisses your shoulder. You catch a glance at his watch on his wrist even in the dim light of the very early morning.

“Oh my god, Gyu, is it really 5am?” You groggily ask, feeling sorry. “You have to work in the morning, don’t you?”

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.” Mingyu reassures you. “I can always go in a little later, I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

“…I think I’m good now,” You say, starting to stand up slowly, as Mingyu helps you all the way. “…You know, I have heard that the more nauseas you are, it probably means you’re having a girl. And if you have none at all, it’s probably a boy.”

Mingyu chuckles, “Where do you come up with this? Is that even a thing?”

“The internet… you know, social media. Everything’s on there.” You protest.

“You’re delirious,” Mingyu playfully rolls his eyes. “Cmon, let’s go back to bed.”

“Gyu, we have to leave in like an hour,” You say, as you’re getting ready in the bathroom, finishing up your final touches on your hair. “I don’t want to be late for dinner at my parents house.”

Mingyu stands in the doorway now, “This okay?” He shows off a navy blue polo shirt and black jeans.

“Yeah, honey, you look nice.” You smile. “Besides, you could wear anything around her, she adores you anyways.”

It was true. Your mother would always be calling Mingyu to help around the house when your Father was away on a business trip. She needed help fixing something? She’d call Mingyu. She needs help building a side table? You bet she’s calling Mingyu. His height was also a bonus, being able to reach things stored higher up.

Mingyu smiles at you adoringly, as his eyes trail down your body.

“What?” You ask when you notice him.

“You’re starting to show a little,” He smiles. “You look cute.”

You giggle, placing your hands on your stomach. “Yeah I know, she wants to be seen now, she’s done hiding.”

“Well, are my girls ready to go?” Mingyu smiles, kissing you.

“Yeah,” You giggle, smiling as you kiss him again. “Let’s go.”

It's true, swear, scouts honor You knew what you wanted and boy, you got her.

tags: @jenoslutie @wonuwrites @aaniag @cosmojinyoung

#mingyu smut #seventeen smut #thediamondlifenetwork #kvanity #mingyu fluff #seventeen fluff

919 notes · View notes

imaginaryf1shots · 5 months ago

Text

Soulmate | Lewis Hamilton Ver.

WC: 4.6K

Summery: You live in a world where soulmates exist, and each person is born being able communicate with them by writing on your own skin.

Warning: one curse, make out session, death of a parent and a dog, not specified age gap.

Masterlist

Lewis Masterlist

Max Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver.

Everyone describes finding their soulmate as the best thing that could ever happen to them. Everyone grows up being able to communicate with their soulmate through their skin. Whatever you write will appear on the other’s skin. And once you wipe it off it’s gone from their skin. Only your soulmates writing will show up on the others, it wasn’t uncommon for children to write on obvious places in hopes of finding that love all adults describe, usually parents or adults will make them wipe it away but it still happens.

The marking is a way for you to identify your significant other, a way for you to find them. But the universe decided not to make it that easy. One of the things you can’t share is your name, where you are, and sometimes what you do. It can’t be that easy, you have to work for it, you have to wait for it.

Your markings started when you were just a baby, showcasing that your soulmate is a bit older than you, not an adult but definitely older. Your parents realised that after a while and since you couldn’t write yet, the writings from your soulmate stopped. You remember the first time you decided to write to your soulmate.

You just wrote a simple : Hi.

It only took a minute or so before a Hi was written under yours. It made you break into a fit of giggles. The happiness you had then was unbeatable.

And so you started talking to your soulmate, who is definitely older than you, and he definitely knew it and spoke to you appropriately to your age. Growing up with your soulmate, you realised how determined, kind, and level-headed he is. He’s the one you always go to for advice. He always has your back and best interest in mind. A problem with a friend, you ask him. Can’t decide what to study, you ask him. What food to eat, you ask him. You’ve come to know when he’s sad from the way he wrote and you always found yourself writing encouraging things to him when that happened, or stupid jokes that you hoped made him laugh or just feel a bit better. You always wrote or doodled to each other every day. All soulmates, especially those who haven’t found each other, always carry a pen with them, just in case.

For Lewis, today was different. You’re always doodling, always having something to day to him. So when the morning turned to the afternoon before it was the evening and his messages went unanswered, and he just sat staring at his empty skin, his heart suk. He has never felt so alone since you first wrote that cute Hi all those years ago. Your absence weighing him down.

And so one day turned into two and then three, and as he continued to write, he became ore desperate, hoping for a reply that never came. Worry ate at him, making it hard to focus, and he had to focus he had a race.

Finally, on the fourth day, he got a response.

’I’m sorry I didn’t write to you.'

His heart skipped a beat, he replied instantly.

’are you okay?’

You choked back a sob once you read his words, not reaching out to him, broke you, but you were already broken, already so sad, grieving.

’My mum died’ You wrote as tears left your eyes smudging the ink as it transferred into his skin. ‘I feel so lost.’

The reply from your soulmate came instantly. ‘I’m so sorry love, I’m here for you always’

You clutched the pen, the wight of your grief letting for s second by his words. Despite the distance, you felt his presence, a comforting warmth that soothed your heart.

’I wish you were here’ you wrote your heart yearning for the comfort of his presence. You haven’t met him yet, but you knew he’s what you need right now.

‘I am’ He replied. ‘I may not be there physically, but my heart is with you, always.’

One day, as you stared into the mirror, you found out that you and your soulmates are one of those rare ones. Because you’re one of the least, then 1% that when your soulmate gets a tattoo, it appears on your skin. Thankfully it’s not black ink, but it’s pale lines. It looks like healed scars. Your soulmate had no idea that you’re that kind of soulmates, and you never told him, so as the years went on, more lines started appearing on your skin. Some left you confused, and some left you smiling. You almost told him when he got the tattoos on his hands because some people thought it was scars at first before they got closer to you and realised it’s drawing and lines and writings.

You closed your eyes, imagining him by your side, feeling his arms around you, offering the solace you so desperately needed. Over the next few days, your exchange became your lifeline. Each message from him helped you a little. He was there for every stage of your grief process until you were okay, as okay as you could be and even after that.

You’re always thankful that he hasn’t tattooed his face. You were confused with the 44 behind your ear and the lion on your chest, but there was one tattoo that he got recently that had you raising an eyebrow. The tattoo was near your pelvic bone in cursive. It would be covered by his underwear. It was like a tattoo that only you two knew about, even if he had no idea that you knew about them.

You work for an event firm in the UK. The company has been able to secure a deal with Formula 1 to do some events for the fans in Silverstone. And for once you and your soulmate seem to be in the same time zone, it’s always hard for you to write and the other to be awake at that time. So your mood was good, you felt happy and excited about the event. There was something that made you feel giddy and ready for the event to start. Planning took time and was hard, but you’re happy with the outcome.

The one tattoo that helped you more than you’d think is the big Still I Rise across your back. Every time you felt down, didn’t do well in something you’re doing you’d catch a glimpse of it, and you’d feel better, and you’d try harder.

The first two days went by smoothly, for the four days you were working. You were walking around the paddock with a clipboard in hand, your hands scanning the crowds for something, you don’t know what, or who. But you just had this urge to look around. You needed to focus on your job, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant was about to happen. It was a sensation in the pit of your stomach, pulling you towards something unknown.

You were so lost in thought that you almost missed it. It was a fleeting glance, a glimpse of a figure moving through the crowd, but you saw it, you have no idea how but you saw it, the unmistakable tattoo, ‘god is love’.

Your heart skipped a beat, your hand went to your neck, and you touched where you knew yours was. You blinked, trying to steady your breath and look again. The man turned slightly, and you caught a glimpse of his hand. It mirrored the one you have on your own hand. Looking at his face before he goes lost in the crowd, you frown. You’ve seen him before. You frown and walk in the direction he went, looking around before you stop dead in your tracks. There he was, looking at you. Lewis Hamilton… his poster, of course. The 7 time world champion is your soulmate.

You take out your pen and start writing on the palm of your hand.

’how’s the weather?’

It took him a few minutes, a few minutes of you stressing. Did you imagine it? Was this actually your soulmate?

‘gloomy, what about where you are?’

’also gloomy’ you write back and sigh, you bite your lip and head back to where your boss is, you’ve known her for a long time and she became like a friend to you.

As you were walking, you saw a big screen showing what was happening on stage in another part of the track. There he was, as a strange sense of deja vu hits you. It was like you knew him your entire life. You stared as he laughed and chatted with the interviewer.

You took out your phone as you reached your team.

”y/n, are you okay?” Your boss asked, you nod not looking up. She didn’t believe you and walked up to you. “y/n?”

”I-uh, I think I know who my soulmate is.” You look up at her with vurnable eyes. She frowned.

”That’s a good thing, right?” She asked you, confused by your behaviour, you turn the phone for her to see. There was a picture of hands that held the same tattoos as yours. Her mouth went into an O shape when she read the name of the article that had the picture attached to. “Oh.”

”Yes.” Your voice trembled. “I need to get into the Mercedes motorhome or garage or something.”

”Consider it done.” She said. “I’ll have to make a few calls.”

Your heart was in your throat as you walked to the Mercedes motorhome with your new pass along with your boss. You had finished your work for the day, and she wanted to be there for you. You both walked into the building, the weather in there much warmer than outside, the room was buzzing with staff and guests alike. You took off your jacket and pushed the long sleeves of your shirt up as you felt the warmth of the room. A woman dressed in the Mercedes uniform walked up to you and your boss.

She greeted her, and they both talked. They knew each other from school. The woman then turned to you and smiled. “Welcome to Mercedes, I was told you wanted to come today.”

You put out your hand to shake hers, and she looks down at your hand and frowns. Most likely, she thought you had scars before she glanced closely and realisation hit her. She looked up at you with wide eyes. “I’m looking for someone that I think I share his tattoos.”

”I see.” Her eyes softened as she understood your words, and she noticed your nervousness. “You’re in the right place. Let me see what I can do.”

She led you upstairs where the VIPs were, as you waited, your mind raced. It was a mix of excitement and nerves. You glanced at your tattoos as you traced them.

“Calm down, y/n, it’s going to be alright.” You boss comforted you and pulled you in for a hug. You hugged her back and closed your eyes.

”Excuse me.” A voice interrupted your hug. You both pulled apart and looked at the man in front of you.

”Yes?” Your boss asked, but the man had his eyes on you.

”I’m sorry for sounding rude, but can I see your arms.” You recognised him then, it’s Lewis’ dad. You gave him your hand, and he inspected it, be fore he pulled up in for a hug. “Oh my god, thank you, thank you.” You just let him hug you. He bruptely pulled back and looked at you, his eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

”It’s alright, this is emotional for everyone.” You said, tearing up a bit yourself. The Mercedes woman came back and smiled at the scene in front of her.

”Lewis is in a meeting room going over some data, I think it’s better you meet him there.” She said and glanced around. “More private.”

”Yes, yes, that’s best.” Lewis’s dad said, and you were shooed by him and your boss. You followed her up another flight of stairs to the top level, where the meeting rooms are. She walked into a room in front of you.

“Lewis, there’s someone here who needs to speak with you.” She said, her voice calm and reassuring. Lewis looked up, his brows furrowing as he turned to face the both of you. “This is y/n, I think you’ll want to hear what she has to say.”

With that, she smiled at the two of you and left, closing the door after herself.

”Hi.” You said as you tried to fight the smile from your face but failed in the end.

”Hi.” Lewis stood up, he was walking around the table to reach you when he noticed your arms, he frowned, he wasn’t one to judge but he was surprised to see the scars? He stopped, but you walked a couple of steps closer. He then noticed it, tattoos.

Lewis was stumped. He thought they were scars, and he wondered what happened to you for you to get them. But in a split second, he noticed that they’re tattoos. His tattoos, on your hands, arms, and any part of skin, he could see. He took a step forward, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

”Are they real?” He asked his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you… are you really her?”

You felt your throat tighten, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. You took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah, I think so, I’ve been seeing your tattoos on my skin for what seems to be my whole life.”

”I can’t believe it.” He said, his voice soft as a slow smile spread across his face. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.”

As you stood facing each other, it seemed like the world around you faded, and noises from outside ceased to exist. This is the moment you both were looking for, waiting for. You take out the pen you have in your pocket, and as a final point to prove that you are, in fact, soulmates, and your soulmate isn’t just a Lewis superfan, you write on your hand.

’Hi.’

Lewis looks at the palm of his hand and smiles. He turns it to you and there in an identical handwriting his ‘Hi.’

Lewis reached out, gently taking your hand in his, and his touch sending a thrill through you.

”There’s so much I want to say, so much I want to know.” He said, his voice filled with emotion. “But first, I just want to thank you for being there, for walsh being a part of my life, even before we met, when we were apart.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you smiled up at him. “I’ve always felt you with me.” You said as your own voice trembled. “Even when we were miles apart, I knew you were there, and now… we’re finally together.”

”Yeah.” Lewis squeezed your hand, he said softly, his eyes welling with tears of his own. “We’re together, and I promise I’ll never let you go.”

You throw your arms around him for a hug, and he doesn’t hesitate before he hugs you back. You imagined being in his arms time and time again. Every time he comforted you, you'd imagine he’s right there giving you a hug. All those imaginations are nothing compared to the real thing. The warmth of his hug, the security and familiarity of it all is different.

It’s all so overwhelming that tears wouldn't stop leaving your eyes as you clutch him tighter. Lewis runs his hand up and down your back.

”I can’t believe I finally found you.” You sob, and it takes a lot for him not to cry with you.

”Me neither, I’ve been waiting for a long time.” Lewis said and pulled back to see your face.

”God, you must’ve waited for a long time.” You say realising that he’s older than you. He’s had to wait for longer. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry you had to go through everything alone.”

”I wasn’t.” Lewis whispers, his eyes holding yours hostage. “You’ve always been there for me, ever since your little Hi, you’ve been there.”

The door opens before you can say anything, and it’s one of Lewis’ engineers. He looks apologetic once he sees the two of you.

”I’m so sorry, but Lewis it’s time to go.” With that, the man ducks out of the room and leaves the two of you alone once more. Lewis hesitates, and he doesn’t want to leave you.

”Go, I’ll be here when you’re done.” You tell him with a teary smile, Lewis kisses your cheek, takes a deep breath, and prolongs his hold on you before he has to let go.

Lewis tells his team to take care of you, you’re given an all access pass for the Merc premises. You watch qualifying with Anthony, Lewis’ dad. He tells you what’s happening, trying to explain it to you as much as possible. You’ve never been a sports fan, so you never stumbled across Formula 1 before. And other than the research you and the team have done for the event, you knew nothing, but it looks like you’re about to know everything.

“He went first, right?” You asked Anthony not taking your eyes away from the screens. You were sitting at the edge of your seat, filled with anticipation and buzzing with the mood of the room.

”Yes, there’s still Q3, but he’s done the fastest lap in Q2.” Anthony explained, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Taking your pen out, you write ‘you did so well, i’m cheering you on’

Lewis, of course doesn’t answer, but he’s seen your message, and you hope it helps keep his confidence high. Anthony told you about Lewis winning in Silverstone before and how it was in 2020 that he’s done it last. Your ringers crosses as Q3 started, with each lap the track evolved and everyone kept changing position, it was a Mclaren and Mercedes fight, and as the chequered flag was waved and the last cars passed, George went first, before Lewis passed the finish line and taking pole position. The room erupted in cheers, your eyes welled with tears once more, you don’t know all the hardships Lewis went through in his career, but you knew it meant a lot to him. You’ve known when he was at his lowest, and he’s been feeling down for a long time, and you found out why that is. But here you are now, and here you’ll stay.

You write another message after you whip the first away.

’congrats, I’m so happy for you.’

You see Lewis get out of his car, congratulate George, and get weighted before he takes off his helmet and gloves. He looks at his hand and smiles. You feel ecstatic seeing how happy he looks from your words. Anthony pats your hand for a moment. He’s thankful for your presence in his son’s life.

After Lewis is done with his interviews and whatnot, he goes back to his driver’s room, where you’re waiting for him. When he walks in, you imminently hug him, buzzing with excitement.

”Lewis, that was amazing. You did so good, I’m so happy for you.” You say and breathe him in.

”It was all for you, y/n.” Lewis says, and you couldn’t fight the blush from forming on your face. Lewis’s hands cupped your face before he took notice of the tattoo on your neck. He traced it, looking behind your ears for the ones he knew would be there. “did you get all of them?”

”Yeah, all them, I saw most of them get done.” You told him and Lewis’s fingers moved to your. hands looking at the lines he knew by heart.

“Did it hurt?” He asked his eyes, meeting yours.

“Not one bit.”

”Why didn’t you tell me?” Lewis was confused.

”Would you have stopped?”

”Of course.” Lewis answered in disbelief, almost offended you’d ask such a thing.

”That’s why I didn’t tell you.” Lewis chuckled and continued up your arm raising your sleeve with it, until he couldn’t anymore, his touch left you breathless, it was electrifying. You gently turned around and raised your shirt for him to see your back, his biggest tattoo. “I was scared about this one first since it was done in a few sessions.”

Lewis didn’t respond. His eyes were locked onto the skin that’s being exposed to him. From the look of your skin, one would think it’d be rough, but as his hands moved from the bottom of your spin and up your back, it couldn’t be the furthest from the truth. His hands left goosebumps in their wake. You closed your eyes, and your breath shuddered as you let it out. You move your hands up, and with Lewis, you remove your shirt.

Lewis’s hands hover over your bra clasps. You lean back into him, and that was all the encouragement he needs. He quickly unclasp it and watches his tattoo on your skin.

”You know, this shows everyone you’re mine.” Lewis’s voice sounded hoarse, his adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed.

”Left your mark on me before we even met.” You said, sounding breathless. You turned around and looked at him, your eyes half closed, your hands on his chest. “Maybe I should do a tattoo of my name so everyone would know that you’re mine.”

Lewis groaned at your words, his hands holding your waist a little lighter. Your hand moved down his chest, feeling his abs before you felt his pelvic bone going down before you stopped.

”I want to know why you have this one.” You bite your lip, stopping your smile from breaking through.

“It was an impulsive decision.” Lewis breathed out and pulled you closer by the belt loops of your pants.

“Well, we have to see who the lucky one is.” You say rearing to the ‘lucky you’ tattoo you both share right next to your private area.

“I can already tell, I’m the lucky one.” Lewis whispered just as his lips tout he’d yours. The kiss was full of love and lust. The intensity left you gasping, Lewis took his chance to deepen the kiss. One of his hands cupped the back of your neck and the other slid to the top of your butt. His lips were warm and demanding, moving with an urgency, he’s waited for this moment for a very long time. Your hands went up to his braids, and you pulled slightly. Your mouths moved in a heated dance, just enough tongue touching to leave you craving for more. The kiss seemed to heat up, consuming, as you tried to memorise each other.

His hand moved from the top of your but up your back, feeling the skin there, and you pressed yourself against him, feeling the solid muscle of his chest, his heart beating hard, matching yours.

Breaking away was hard, but the small breaths you both were taking weren’t enough, and you needed oxygen. “Fuck, what are you doing to me.” Lewis asked, his voice husky and raw.

”Me? What are you doing to me?” You look at his lips red and a little puffy from the kissing you’ve been doing, and you know yours will match his.

“Maybe we should wait until we’re in a more private place.” Lewis says, having the same train of thought as you, he glanced at the door which he hasn’t locked.

“I think so.” You mumble before pressing your lips for one, two, three more kisses.

”Turn around, I’ll help you.” Lewis mumbled, and you followed his words. He hooks your bra and hands you your shirt back. He even helped you pull it down.

Walking out of his room after you’ve both calmed down, no one was the wiser to the make out session you two just had. You went back with Lewis to his house, his family left the two of you to talk, to get to know each other.

So you sat with Lewis in one of his hoodies and shorts, your make up wiped away and just ready for a cosy night.

“What’s your favourite tattoo?” Lewis asked you curious, you hummed thinking about it. You both sat on the sofa right next to each other, Lewis had his elbow on the back of the sofa and his head on his hand, the other one in yours, your legs were over his, it looked as if you were intertwined.

”They’re all unique and there isn’t one that I mind, maybe the Muhammad Ali I don’t enjoy as much.” You say with a giggle, Lewis pats your calf where the tattoo is visible. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s amazing and everything, a legend for certain.”

”But not enough to have him tattooed onto your body.” Lewis adds for you and you nod.

”The one I resonate with the most, is the still I rise one.” You tell Lewis. “You certainly got it at a time when I was feeling the worst and like a fauliar, since you got it whenever I felt like I couldn’t do something I’d look at it and I’d just try again.”

”I’m glad.” Lewis smiles at your words.

”Who’s Coco?” You ask lewis taking his hand is in yours, “My dog, she died in 2020.” Lewis said and you squeezed his hand, feeling bad for him and for brining it up.

”I remember you told me about it, a heart attack right?” Lewis nodded, you brought his hand up so you could kiss it.

”There was so many times, that I wished you were with me.” Lewis confessed, the tones of your voices calm, low and intimate. “I wanted to find you so bad, so many times.”

”I did too, I hate that you spent so much without me.” You tell him and sigh, before giving him a small smile. “But we get to spend the rest of our lives together.”

”We do, I’m taking you with me everywhere.” Lewis says and pulls on your hands making you move that bit closer.

”Good, because I’m not leaving you.”

”Tell us, Lewis, what do you think made you have the last push to win today?” The interviewer, Jensen Button, asked Lewis, who smiled and searched for you between the Mercedes crew. You just emerged between them with a grin on your face, this was all new to you, so you had no idea that you could be at parc ferme and see the podium from there.

”My soulmate.” Was his simple answer, the fans all cheered as Jenson was shocked that Lewis found his soulmate after so long.

”She’s here?” Jensen asked, and Lewis nodded with an unbeatable grin.

”Right there, and I can’t wait to go and kiss her.” Lewis said, pointing in your direction.

”Well, one more question before we let you go and do just that…” Jensen asked the queastion and Lewis was paying half mind to him, he gave a practised answer. “Okay, we’ll let you go to your soulmate.” Jensen put the mic away before he patted Lewis’ shoulder. “Congrats, mate.”

He wasn’t talking about the win. Finding your soulmate is much more important than any race win.

Lewis walked up to you and did exactly what he said he’s do, his hands went to your cheeks, yours to his race suit to pull him closer, before his lips landed on yours.

The camera flashes were blinding as the fans all cheered for you both. What a moment.

Lewis pulled back and pressed his forehead to yours. “You’re my lucky charm. You have to come to every race.”

”I already told you you can’t get rid of me, I’m not leaving you.” You tell him before he was pulled away. He had to go.

You watched Lewis on the top of the podium with the biggest smile, his eyes caught yours and he sent you a wink.

Lewis sprayed the champagne before he raised it up and took a sip out of it.

Here’s to forever.

Vote for the next one

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

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itsgirlyki · 5 months ago

Text

“is she?”

nanami and yn have been keeping things a secret but it’s getting hard to hide.

🌺includes: kento nanami

contains: pure fluff, fem coded reader, swearing, early pregnancy, established relationship

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀

“yn-sensei? welcome back!” yuuji excitedly walked in your direction hoping to catch a conversation from you. three weeks ago, you abruptly left unexpectedly for a mission not being able to bid anyone a farewell. although it was only a coverup of why you were really away.

when he approached, you cupped his cheek gently which he greatly appreciated with a hum of joy. you’ve grown overly fond of the young man during the times he spent with you. “yuuji, great to see you.” you retracted your hand from his cheek.

“what about me bitch?” sukuna quips from the same cheek you held making you giggle from the vulgar words.

you flicked his cheek with a smile. “you’ve got a mouth on you, quite literally yuuji.” sukuna growls but kept his words at bay.

yuuji beams happily enjoying the attention but notices something slightly off about your usual appearance. was your skin glistening brighter? or did you fill out your uniform a little more? he put his thoughts to ease seeing as you were speaking to him. “what was that sensei? i quite didn’t catch that..” he nimbly replied.

you raised a brow disregarding his daydream repeating the question. “i asked if you wanted to walk with me to cafeteria before i head for the teachers lounge.”

“i’m down.” he gleefully nodded walking alongside yourself strolling to the cafeteria. as you both were walking yuuji observed the way you stepped. it was almost sluggish and drowsy causing him to pause with a frown. “uhh sensei are you okay?”

out of shock you stop dead in your tracks looking at him. you tried to keep your composure resuming your walk forcing it to be firmer. “why wouldn’t i be?” yuuji didn’t take lightly at the answer but didn’t pester about it anymore.

the both of you arrived at the cafeteria spotting the other first years inside. you gave a quick wave before motioning yuuji to join his friends. “i’m gonna grab a meal. why don’t you join them.” he gives a thumbs up walking away from you to join the two others.

“is it just me or is yn-sensei.. glowing?” nobara glanced at the teacher who was happily bouncing on the balls of her feet, now stacking food into a bowl. her skin shined almost reflecting whatever was nearby.

yuuji agrees hastily with the doubt from earlier leaving his body. “yes i was thinking the same! doesn’t she look bigger as well?” he grunted after earning a slap on the head from megumi, who only grumbled.

“you don’t talk about a lady’s weight.” nobara chuckled at megumi’s actions also giving yuuji a harsh nudge.

“yeah that’s super rude. even if it is true.” she crosses her arms observing your form from afar.

the portions looked a bit much for one person but you could be starving. she looks down to your stomach which was slightly pointed outward making her eyes light up in realization. ‘she looks pregnant.’ her mouth dropped slightly in shock but chose not to say anything since it wasn’t her place.

you walked back over to the trio with them being awkwardly quiet and paid no mind to it. “nobara, you’ll catch flies.” you chuckled tapping her chin. she quickly closed her mouth and blushed softly.

yuuji snorted at nobara being caught of guard. “thanks sensei.” she bashfully rubbed the back of her neck.

“alright children, i have to meet up with the other sensei’s but you have my cell if you need me!” you quickly wave them off skipping to your next destination which was to see your blonde headed husband.

the walk was a bit lengthy due to the slow pace you were walking. you’ve texted kento you were on your way a couple of minutes ago but you didn’t think it would take this long to get there. you decided a little break wouldn’t hurt and spotted a nearby bench, besides you have been getting hungrier each step of the way.

“sorry ken.. we’ve gotta take a minute.” you mumbled sitting on the bench eating your lunch. you hummed in satisfaction as the food filled into your stomach depleting your hunger. a minute became thirty and your meal session turned into a outdoor watching.

you hear shuffles come from behind you startling your core. “i figured you’d sit down..” nanami appeared from behind with crossed arms and a look of worry. “you had me anxious. no call or text?”

a sheepish smile smeared across your face as you rubbed your stomach. “i got a little distracted.” you went to stand but he patted your shoulder lightly making you sit back down.

he takes a sit next to you placing an arm over the bench. “a little?” being too stunned to speak you pouted sticking a tongue out at your husband.

“womp womp!”

“how mature of you.” he chuckled, brushing the hair out your face leaning in pressing a quick kiss on your lips.

“how smooth of you.” you repeated back leaning in pressing another firm kiss on his lips. you scoot into his warm body laying a head onto his shoulder having conversation. him occasionally brushing your stomach with his large hand.

“well that’s not something you see everyday..” a familiar voice sprang in the air causing you and kento to lean away from each other looking into that direction.

shoko, who was walking had now halted watching the scene you two made, the second years not too far following behind her but had shocked faces. kento face palmed at his carelessness forgetting that he was still on the campus. you on the other hand waved jollily standing to greet everyone.

“shoko! second years! how are you?” you clasp your hands together strolling in front of them. they regathered their composures and began to speak back.

“not as good as you it seems.” she snickers making nanami scowl and sigh. he knew the teasing would be inevitable for why he wanted this a secret.

“since when was this.” she did a pointed motion towards you and him. “a thing?”

“salmon!!” inumaki agrees wanting to know the answer as well.

“i’ve always known you weren’t on the market yn-sensei! you’re too pretty.” pandas words make you flush with glee. you fan off his words humbly thanking him.

“nanami-sensei though? odd pair. you’re so sunshine! he’s so… clouds.. bills.. get to work.” you internally died at his statement trying not to laugh in your husbands face.

“i am still right here.” the stoic man grumbled shaking his head. panda bowed repeatedly to him.

maki had been awfully quiet not saying a word just visibly observing you. you wondered what she was thinking. “something on your mind maki?” you ask.

she blinks snapping out of a daze nodding her head. “have you been bulking?” of course the girl had thought it was for working out. you gulped as everyone also began staring at your form noticing the slight changes. kento began to sweat slightly shuffling away from the area.

“now that i’m looking at it, you have gotten bigger especially down there.” shoko softly pressed a finger on your stomach making you flinch back.

“so, are you calling me fat?” you chuckled trying to play it off but she had a different opinion.

“no, i’m actually calling you pregnant.” the sound of a penny could be heard dropping. you asked why she thought that and she merely shrugged.

“firstly your skin is glistening but there’s no sweat, then you’re hunching over a bit, and not to mention the prominent curve. do i need to say more?” you wheezed almost forgetting that this is a doctor you’re talking to.

“secrets out i guess! yes, i’m one month pregnant.” you blew a raspberry at shoko for blowing your cover but happy it wouldn’t have to be held in anymore.

panda had an internal battle with his head shortly making an outburst. “so that means.. nanami-sensei is the dad!!” pandas paws slid down his face dramatically looking over to the blonde man to find him gone.

“wait that’s actually gross.” maki puts a hand on her face looking away, inumaki blushes as well covering his face even more.

you pout childishly pointing an accusing finger at them. “how do you kids think you got here??”

“SENSEI STOP!!!”

“SHOKO SHOULD’VE NEVER SAID ANYTHING!!”

‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. ‧₊˚❀

extra: with nanami and gojo

“so i heard yn is pregnant.. by a little blonde.”

“gojo i will harm you.”

“seesh, fine..”

“…”

“was it wet?”

“gojo leave my office.”

for more like this follow @itsgirlyki !!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento nanami #kento x reader #itsgirlyki

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malfoyscoffee · 1 year ago

Text

call me theo ౨ৎ theodore nott

pairing theodore nott x fem!slytherin!reader about fluff, angst | 1.7k words | exes to lovers warnings mentions of time skip, use of y/n, and a dumb theo

“Friends?”

“Friends.”

That marked the end of your two-year relationship with Theodore. As he said his final word, you turned away, walking down the winding steps of the Astronomy Tower, holding back the emotions until you returned to your dormitory.

The night blurred into a haze of tears, finding comfort in Pansy’s shoulder as both of you nestled on the dorm floor. Hours passed in a cocoon of sadness before Blaise, Mattheo, Lorenzo, and even Draco appeared with snacks and muggle movies, trying to lift your spirits.

Wrapped up in your distress, you didn't think to ask how they found out about your breakup. Unbeknownst to you, amidst his own pain, Theodore asked his friends to comfort you instead of him.

Three weeks had gone by since the breakup. As promised, you and Theodore went back to being friends, just like before, merely two friends within the same tight-knit circle. But beneath the surface of friendliness, your friends noticed the underlying tension between you and Theodore, silently wishing for a reunion.

It was a random morning in the Great Hall when you announced to your friends that you would be occupied before dinner to take on the extra credit assignment for Herbology. Your friends looked at you strangely, the assignment was unnecessary for someone with such high marks, but inside you wanted a distraction from everything.

Back in the common room, the attention shifted to Theodore, the elephant in the room finally about to be addressed.

“So, what led to the breakup?” Blaise relaxed in his chair while Theodore sighed, looking at the ceiling.

“She didn’t say why, but she mentioned that you initiated the breakup,” Draco said casually, trying to hide his interest in the situation.

“I told her she deserved better.”

Silence.

Suddenly, Lorenzo burst into laughter.

“Salazar, Enzo,” Pansy stood, disregarding Lorenzo's reaction. “So, let me get this straight,” she pointed her finger at Theodore, “You're saying the reason the group has been down is because you decided she deserved someone better?”

Mattheo set aside his cigarette, “Didn’t expect you to be so naive, mate.”

Blaise nodded, “Thinking that's an explanation. Y/n adores you, where will you find a girl better than her?”

Theodore’s face paled, “She’ll find someone better and eventually leave me. I couldn’t handle that.”

Draco stayed composed, “So you ended it first. Well done, Theo.”

Theodore buried his face in his hands, letting out an exasperated groan. “You all know she has a promising future after graduation. Why should she stay with me and be held back?”

“Did you talk to her about this, or did your insecurities make the call?” Lorenzo’s words made Theodore freeze, lost in thought.

Pansy packed up, checking the time. “Dinner’s soon. Let’s go.”

The boys followed Pansy, leaving Theodore alone, contemplating if his decision was right for your relationship.

"I got the job!"

Strolling around Hogsmeade with Blaise and Pansy, you stumbled upon a new place—a wizarding coffee shop. Your liking for muggle coffeehouses sparked your curiosity, pushing you to ask about potential employment.

Excitement bubbled as you shared the news with your friends in the Great Hall.

“We’ve got a place to visit now.” Lorenzo grinned, aware it might bring some joy after a while.

Pansy nudged Draco, "Let’s study there. OWLS are coming up and some muggle coffee might help."

Draco glanced at Theodore, who sat in silence, unsure of what to say. “That sounds like a plan. I could use some muggle coffee.”

They all knew Draco was convincing Theodore to join.

"When do you start?" Mattheo asked between sips of hot chocolate.

You remembered your upcoming schedule, “Next week, Wednesdays and Saturdays? Once I’m trained, next Saturday, I’ll treat you all to some amazing muggle coffee."

The group agreed, planning to meet at your workplace next Saturday.

“Five cups of regular iced coffee, please.” You operated the muggle machine, engrossed in fulfilling the order.

“Oh, hey, Theodore. Are the others here?” You looked around, causing Theodore’s shoulders to slump slightly.

“They're at the big corner table. Enzo insisted the natural sunlight would help with studying…”

A soft chuckle escaped, “You can go back, I’ll bring the drinks over when ready.” Theodore nodded, returning to the café’s corner.

Blaise grabbed the first cup but stopped when Pansy teased him. “Don’t hog! Share!”

“How does it taste?” you asked, turning to your friends.

“Y/n, muggle coffee is amazing.” Mattheo praised, soon followed by Blaise signaling he finished his drink.

“I should tell my father about this place,” Draco chimed in, and before you knew it, all the cups were empty.

“I should get back to work, see you at dinner.”

“What time do you finish?” Theodore's sudden interest surprised everyone.

“Y/n?”

"I'm done around six," You said while feeling a bit overwhelmed inside.

Theodore nodded, indicating your return to work.

Numerous customers kept you busy. Though you didn’t need money, the experience was enriching.

While your friends left at five, Theodore stayed. He moved to a quiet spot facing the counter where you worked.

Ignoring his shift, you focused on the new customers who walked in.

“Y/n, it's six, you can leave,” your boss said, offering a pastry.

“Thanks,” grabbing your coat, you started to leave the kitchen.

“Are you done?” Theodore was poised by the counter, waiting for your response.

“Theodore, did you wait?”

Signaling to walk together, he said, “I had a few assignments that I wanted to finish early so I stayed longer.” His nervous fidgeting gave away his lie, his habit you remembered from your past relationship.

You hummed, touched by his waiting.

“I might visit often. I didn't mention earlier, but the coffee’s great.”

Walking back to Hogwarts, feelings for Theodore surfaced since the breakup.

How could you move on when he acted this way?

For two months, Theodore kept his promise, visiting the café every Wednesday and Saturday, bringing schoolwork, and leaving with you.

You felt the emotions returning but you were scared to get hurt. After all, he initiated the breakup, right?

Your friends noticed Theodore’s absence on your workdays, understanding where Theodore was without verbal explanation.

“One large iced coffee, please.” You prepared a cup, “And your name?”

“Theo.”

“Oh,” You looked up at Theodore. “One large iced coffee for Theodore.” You repeated his order and placed the cup down.

“Why don’t you call me Theo anymore?” His disappointment was evident.

Meeting his gaze, you explained, “Because we’re just friends.”

Theodore observed the cup, then you.

“You know what, I think I forgot something at my dorm. I’m going to go.” His tone was sharper than he meant, leaving the café abruptly.

“Now you're the clueless one. Salazar, why do I have two of them?” Lorenzo dramatized, earning an eye roll from you.

Theodore disappeared after the café meeting. Unaware of his whereabouts, your friends gathered in the common room, waiting for his return.

“I mean, Y/n, Enzo's right,” Pansy said, sipping the muggle coffee you brewed for the group.

“He ended things months ago. I don’t see why you're all on his side.” Frowning, you didn’t grasp their empathy toward Theodore.

“Y/n, listen,” Blaise interrupted, “Regardless of who initiated the breakup, Theodore has come to your café twice a week for months, just to spend time with you.”

Draco echoed Blaise’s sentiments. “OWLS were done a month ago, yet he still visits. Give Theo credit for trying.”

You sighed, “I care for him, but I don’t want to be hurt again. He should just tell me. His actions are misleading if he doesn’t want to reconcile.”

Lost in thought, the warmth of the common room enveloped you, the crackling fire providing a soothing ambiance.

As evening approached, your thoughts circled Theodore’s sudden exit from the café, leaving you unsettled, your mind in disarray.

Unnoticed, the common room door creaked open. Theodore entered, visibly anxious. His eyes met yours, a blend of hesitation and resolve painting his expression.

The room fell silent as Theodore approached you, a mix of emotions playing across his face. Without a word, you got up and led him out of the common room.

The two of you reached the Blake Lake, facing each other, as the tension filled the air. Theodore struggled with his thoughts, torn between holding back and speaking up.

“I’m sorry for earlier,” he started, a hint of regret in his tone. “I didn’t mean to leave abruptly. I've been struggling, Y/n.”

“Struggling? With what, Theodore?”

Gathering his thoughts, he spoke earnestly. “With everything between us. The breakup wasn't about not caring about you. I was scared.”

“Scared?” Your voice softened, understanding blooming within.

Theodore nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “I was scared that you would realize I was holding you back and leave me. So I thought if I let you go, you would be better off.”

Your heart ached, his honesty striking a chord with your own doubts. “But, Theodore, you never gave me a chance to choose. You made that decision for me.”

“I know, and I regret it every day.” Remorse filled his words, and his vulnerability was evident. “I visited the café because I wanted to be near you. But I understand if it’s been confusing for you.”

Silence hung, emotions swirling like a storm.

“I never stopped loving you,” you whispered, emotions stirring within.

He met your gaze, “I don't want to lose you again, Y/n. I want us to start over, I'll do everything to make things right.”

“Let's take it slow, Theodore. Start over and let's see where it takes us.”

A soft smile appeared on his face, relief in his eyes. “I promise, I'll do everything.”

"I've missed this," Theodore confessed softly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions.

You gently squeezed his hand, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Me too. I think we both needed this time to figure things out."

Theodore stopped walking, turning to face you with resolve. "I want us to try again, to be together, properly this time.”

Your heart skipped a beat, warmth spreading through you at his words. You looked into his eyes, seeing a depth of sincerity that reassured you more than any words could. "I want that too, Theodore. Let's give us another chance."

With that shared agreement, a sense of relief and joy washed over both of you. Walking hand in hand, Theodore smiled for the first time in months.

“Now, will you call me Theo?”

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p0orbaby · 2 months ago

Text

First Love

summary: you have a new admirer, alexia isn’t a fan

warnings: none

a/n: i cant remember if this was request or not so if it was i apologise but ive lost it. if not, well done me for thinking of my own plot for a change

word count: 1.2k

You and Alexia arrive fashionably late, because, well, it's Alexia’s family, and you’re not about to sacrifice your sanity to be early for a gathering that’s going to last an eternity anyway. She’s already stressed because she knows every cousin, uncle, and long-lost relative is going to pester her with the usual questions. How’s football? How’s the knee? When are you going to settle down and give your mother some grandchildren? Not to mention, the subtle but unmistakable scrutiny that comes with introducing you—again—like you're the new pet hamster instead of the person who’s been sleeping next to her for three years now.

You’re prepared, though. You’ve got your A-game smile, and you’re ready to nod at all the right moments while maintaining an impressive and unwavering level of small talk. You’re a pro at this by now. You can discuss the weather in ways that would make any other Briton jealous.

The event is held at a distant cousin's place—a sprawling estate that screams “we have more money than common sense.” The house is big, too big. The kind of place where you could lose a child or three and not notice until the next family reunion. The garden is a maze of strategically placed garden furniture, various expensive but uncomfortable chairs that no one sits in, and a kid's bouncy castle that looks like it was imported from the set of some cheesy Netflix original with mediocre reviews.

You’re halfway through your first glass of sangria when you notice him—a small boy, around five or six, with that messy hair that suggests he’s been on a sugar bender since eight this morning. His eyes are locked on you like you’re the most fascinating thing in the world. He’s got this look that can only be described as pure, unfiltered determination, like he’s decided, at that very moment, that you’re going to be his new best friend, and there’s absolutely nothing you or anyone else can do about it.

"He's cute," you whisper to Alexia as the boy starts to waddle over, his shoes lighting up with every step. Alexia glances at him, then back at you, her brow furrowing ever so slightly.

"Yeah, cute," she says, her tone dry enough to rival the Sahara. You can tell by the way her jaw tenses that she’s already not thrilled with this kid, which is hilarious because you’ve seen her face down a team of professional athletes without breaking a sweat. But a small child? Apparently, that’s a whole different kind of threat.

The boy—let's call him Diego, because of course his name is Diego—sidles up to you with all the subtlety of a charging bull. He stares up at you, his eyes wide and sparkling, like you’re a rock star, and he’s your biggest fan.

"Hola," he says, in that high-pitched voice only kids or cartoon characters can pull off without being annoying. Except, it’s already a little annoying, because he’s completely ignoring Alexia, and that’s a crime in and of itself.

"Hi there," you reply, keeping your tone light and friendly. You glance over at Alexia, who’s now sipping her drink with a look that suggests she’s contemplating how many more family functions she can skip without starting a feud.

Diego looks at Alexia briefly, as if she’s some sort of obstacle, then turns his attention back to you, his smile growing wider. "Wanna play?"

You blink. Play? You haven’t ‘played’ in, what, fifteen years? Maybe more? You’re more accustomed to adult games now, like “Where did I put my phone?” and “How long can I avoid doing laundry?” But Diego doesn’t seem to care. He’s already grabbed your hand, sticky fingers and all, and is pulling you toward the bouncy castle like it’s the best idea in the world.

You glance at Alexia, who’s now watching the whole thing with an expression that would be hilarious if it weren’t so serious. There’s a thin line between her eyebrows that you’ve learned means danger. You try to give her a look that says, “Help me,” but she just raises an eyebrow, as if to say, “You got yourself into this, deal with it”

Before you can protest, you’re inside the bouncy castle, surrounded by kids who are all screaming with the kind of joy only children and maniacs experience. Diego is jumping up and down, laughing like a crazy person, and you’re doing your best to stay upright, which is difficult because it’s been a while since you were five.

Outside, you can see Alexia, arms crossed, watching you with a look that’s a mix between amusement and something else—something that looks suspiciously like jealousy. You bounce awkwardly, trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, but Diego is relentless. He’s now trying to get you to jump higher, and you’re seriously starting to consider if this is how you go—death by bouncy castle.

After what feels like an eternity (but is probably just ten minutes), you manage to escape, stumbling out of the bouncy castle like you’ve just survived a natural disaster. Diego is still inside, shrieking with laughter, blissfully unaware of the drama he’s just caused.

You make your way over to Alexia, who’s watching you with that amused, slightly irritated expression still firmly in place.

"Having fun?" she asks, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, tons," you reply, wiping sweat from your brow. "Best day of my life”

"You know, I’m not the jealous type," she begins, her voice low and dangerous, "but what’s mine is mine. End of story”

You can’t help but laugh, because of course Alexia would be jealous of a five-year-old. It’s ridiculous, and yet, somehow, perfectly understandable. "I think I’ve been claimed by someone else," you say, grinning. "You might have some competition”

She rolls her eyes but you can tell she’s not really mad. At least, not in the serious way. "He’s got good taste," she admits grudgingly, "but don’t let it go to your head”

"I wouldn’t dream of it," you reply, leaning in to kiss her cheek, because you know that’s what she wants, even if she’ll never admit it.

The rest of the party is a blur of forced smiles, endless small talk, and more sangria than you probably should’ve had. Diego pops up a few more times, always eager to drag you back to the bouncy castle or show you some new toy, but each time, Alexia is there, gently but firmly steering him back toward his actual family.

By the end of the night, you’re exhausted, and Alexia is finally starting to relax, probably because Diego has finally passed out somewhere, giving up on his quest to monopolise your attention.

As you leave, hand in hand, you glance back at the house, wondering how long it’ll be before you’re back here again, playing the role of the supportive girlfriend in a family that still doesn’t quite get it. But then Alexia squeezes your hand, and you realise it doesn’t matter. Because at the end of the day, what’s hers is hers, and what’s yours is yours, and that’s all there is to it.

Besides, next time, you’ll be ready. You’ll bring your own bouncy castle and show Diego who’s boss.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso community

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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months ago

Text

☕️That's That Me Espresso

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Singer!Reader (fc Sabrina Carpenter) Genre: Fluff/SMAU Summary: Max had been single for the first time in almost 4 years. What do Lando and Charles do? Lightly set him up with a very popular acquaintance. They just hope he likes espresso.

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

There was a different type of electricity in the air that Max was not familiar with. Sure, every race had that adrenalinistic atmosphere that, really, he had gotten numb to. But this, this was different. He might have even gone as far as to call it a “breath of fresh air.”

His whole body was tired, especially after a grueling race. Why the FIA decided to push the Brazil Grand Prix to the dead middle of summer? He didn’t know why. But he had said enough passive aggressive remarks about the weather. The reason they gave was to avoid the typhoons that normally showed up during the later months of the year, when the usual race was scheduled.

The Dutchman didn’t mind. The race last year, although the weekend had been soaked, hadn’t even been canceled. Sure there was rain, but they had raced in wetter conditions before. But, he had no control over the schedule.

If he had been in charge, the calendar would have only 10 races comprised of all historical tracks, no US races, and sprints would be cast into the nearest dumpster.

But Max Verstappen was not in charge of the Formula 1 calendar, and he was now standing backstage to some concert that Lando and Charles had dragged him and some other drivers to. They explained that it was for their girlfriends, but Lando didn’t have a girlfriend and Max knew he and Charles genuinely liked the pop genre.

He just never bothered to listen to specific music. He went more by the vibes the song gave, and if he liked it, he liked it. There was no reason to go deep into the discography of the artist and the albums.

Music was just music to Max.

Well, that was until the lights dimmed and the most beautiful person, well to Max’s opinion, walked out in almost 6-inch heels and the shortest white skirt.

Now, Max had been single for almost three months. He had known that Kelly was drifting, but he didn’t make any attempts to draw her back in. The close to four year relationship just fizzled.

However, he was confused when his friends celebrated the breakup. Lando had gently told him that, while Penelope was very sweet, Kelly had been using him. Charles also brought up the fact that Kelly had said that she had a “magical meeting” with him when he was 19, practically a child with how fast he had to grow up.

The 9 year age gap pretty much put people on edge about her.

But Max had no time to dwell on that as he watched the female dance around, pretty skirt flipping up every time she skipped on stage. Her voice echoed through the large speakers, and Max found himself head bobbing to the beat.

When there was a brief intermission, Lando had snaked his arm around his neck.

“So how are you liking it?” he asked, taking a sip of his drink after. The Dutchman hadn’t taken his eyes of the door where she had gone through.

“She’s very pretty.”

Lando snorted, making Max turn to face his friend.

“I didn’t ask about her mate, but good to know. I can introduce you to Y/n after the concert is over if you’d like me to.”

Max’s eyes widened.

So that’s what your name was. He thought it was very fitting, and he could start to daydream of how the vowels and consonants would sound through his mouth. He wondered if his lisp would accidentally seep through.

“You would?”

Lando sighed before calling Charles over. The brunet was quick to round the other side of the two drivers, now taking up Max’s left.

“Yeah mate?”

Lando slapped Max on the back, making him wince a bit, muscles still sore.

“Our race winner here seems to be a bit infatuated with Y/n.”

Charles wiggled his eyebrows up and down. “Is he now? They’d be a nice pair wouldn’t you say Lando?”

Max tuned the last bit of their conversation out as he watched you prance out of the door you disappeared through earlier. He didn’t know what caused you to look over as you were putting in your in-ears, but you did and your eyes met his.

You quickly blushed under the gaze of the unfamiliar blond man as your eyes darted back to the ground. You had recognized Lando to his right (your left), but the man remained a mystery to you as you began to sing the second half of your set.

You kneeled on the edge of the stage and reached out for a Brazilian flag that a fan was desperately waving around. You took the soft fabric and wrapped it around your shoulders for the rest of the evening.

Max thought you looked like an angel. The lights reflected your blond hair perfectly, creating almost a halo around your face. He himself wanted to give your stylists a raise for picking out the perfect hair, makeup, and outfit.

You had a big smile as you waved to the crowds after your last encore.

“Brasil! Voce tem sido incrive! Todos voces tem meu coracao! Te amo e boa noite!”

You even had the voice of an angel.

And you were now walking toward their group. Max was not prepared. Thankfully Lando and Charles were as they stepped in front Max and congratulated you on the concert. Every now and then in the conversation, your eyes flitted to the blond man, who was looking everywhere but you.

“Y/n! I don’t believe you’ve met Max yet! Max this is Y/n, and Y/n this is Max Verstappen, current world champion.”

The last words made Charles huff a bit, only being behind Max in the points this season by a small margin. You put your hand out for a shake but Max just looked at it, stared, then looked back up.

“You’re very pretty.”

He wanted to slap himself in the face, but your giggles that flew out of your mouth made him want to melt into the ground. Your hand covered your mouth as you looked up at him. Even with your heals, Max was still a half a foot taller than you. You know that it’d be closer to a full foot without your shoes, which you were desperately wanting to get out of.

“Thank you. You’re very handsome, but I guess you hear that too often.”

He actually didn’t. Most didn’t go for his stockier build, rounded features, and flat hair. He knew that many preferred Charles’s slim waist and Lando’s boyish looks. But here you were, looking up at him like he was God’s gift to mankind. Your round doe eyes were hitting all of his buttons.

He smirked. “Not too many, but I only remember the gorgeous ones.”

Oh, so he could flirt. That was news to Lando and Charles as they watched the interactions nearby.

Lando leaned over when Max fished out his phone from his pant leg almost shy at the action. “I didn’t think he had it in him. I wonder if he has ever had the chance to try to date.”

Charles hummed. “He had a few girlfriends before Kelly. But again, they were all older. Y/n is only 22.”

When you trailed off to go change, Max walked over to the duo with a dopey smile.

“I think I’m in love.”

y/nl/n has posted

liked by landonorris, y/nisqueen, mothery/n, and 3,205,094 others y/nl/n brasil! you were amazing! Te amo, te amo! I will miss you all 💚💛🇧🇷

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y/nnation this concert was just chef's kiss!!

y/nisqueen the outfits, the flag, the hair - oh my gosh I love her

f1xy/n did anyone else see that tweet about the f1 drivers in attendance??

norris/n I hope that lando was there, him and y/n would be so cute

maxxy/n I think y/n and max would be so cutie tho

landonorris great show once again y/n!

y/nl/n glad that you and your friends could come see!!

teamy/n your honor I love her

Another giggle left your lips as you were driven back to your hotel. Your manager was watching you with fond eyes, happy to see you all smiley. Your last relationship had not ended well, leaving you heartbroken and depressed. But your emotions fueled you to write your best album yet.

“I’m going to guess that you’re texting you driver,” she wiggled her eyebrows at you, making you sink into the seat, phone covering your face.

“Maybe. Mila, he’s so perfect. He’s very . . . sweet, but at the same time he’s sharp. He’s a bit like my every morning drink.”

Mila sent you a warm smile. “Speaking of morning drinks, do you still want your espresso sent to your room at the normal time, or do you want to sleep in?”

Your brows furrowed, mind running quickly. You opened your notes app and began typing.

“Espresso.”

A few months passed with you and Max growing closer and closer. People online could definitely tell that the Dutchman was more smiley, but no one knew why. They could only speculate that he was in a relationship, but he hadn’t really been anywhere in the past few months that could signify a blooming relationship.

You were up writing late when your phone buzzed, the familiar pattern letting you know that a certain blond was calling you. Your eyebrows pinched as you noticed the time. You pressed the green button before saying hello.

“Hi schatje,” the familiar pet-name flooding the room.

“Why are you up so late? Don’t you have a race tomorrow morning?”

Although you were in two different countries, you and Max miraculously were in the same time zones, meaning if you were up late so was he.

“We have the sim race this weekend.”

“Maaxxx.”

“Y/nnnnn, I’ve done it before. And plus, you’re also up.”

You nibbled on your lip. “I couldn’t sleep. Lyrics are just racing around my brain.”

“That or you had your espresso too late again.”

You smirked as your eyes landed on the empty espresso mug on the bedside table.

“I’m taking the silence as ‘yes Max. I had an espresso too late.’”

Max’s favorite sound, your laugh, sounded through his phone that was resting on his simulator. The two of you had some weird humor, but you never failed to make Max laugh and neither did he.

The sound of him shifting the gears was better than any white noise machine could be. Max tried his best to focus on his race, but the scratching of your pencil and your sporadic sighs kept him a bit distracted.

“Would you be fine if I put a hint in my song? I like having you all to myself, but I want people to know that you make me happy.”

Max almost virtually crashed. You never ceased to amaze him.

“That’s fine with me liefling. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

y/nl/n has posted

liked by gracieadams, y/nvideo, maxverstappen1, and 3,405,295 others y/nl/n ☕️ espresso is now yours :) let's call it the bop of the summer

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maxxy/n ayo max, why are you here so early 🤨

f1xy/n what the hell is a polar bear doing in Arlington texas

y/n.nation when she says bop of the summer, it's the bop of the summer

maxverstappen1 ☕️

y/nl/n ☕️

queeny/n what the heck is this supposed to mean?????

user204502 this song has been on repeat

Max hadn’t know when you were going to release the song, he just knew that you were. He hadn’t even realized that it was out to the public until Charles had mentioned something.

“Y/n’s new song is great, non? Didn’t know that you two were soft launching, but I’m happy for you two.”

Max never ran faster than he did to get to his driver’s room to listen to it. He never thought that you’d ever write a song about him, but here it was. The title was catchy too.

Thankfully, you were waiting for him when he got back to Monaco. The first thing he did was lean down to kiss your lips. You could never get over the feeling of his lips against yours. The broadness of his shoulders made you feel safe as he caged you in between himself and the door.

His large hands fit perfectly against your hips as he brushed his face against your neck. Your hands gripped his shirt that was thankfully not a Red Bull polo.

“I take it you liked the song?” you managed to get out, breathless against him. A hum vibrated against your neck, letting you know that he was pleased.

He finally gave you a bit of space once he kissed you on his way back up.

“Espresso?”

You giggled, head digging into his chest. “I had one almost 15 minutes ago.”

“Of course you did.”

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you just stood in the walkway to his house. The place finally looked like someone was actually living in it, and not looking like an Ikea display.

Little bits of Max were visible everywhere, now that he didn’t have to hide his stuff away in his little mancave. His suit was now on display with pictures of his various wins decorating the walls. But in between all the racing were bits of you left behind. Pictures of your stages filled in the gaps.

But Max’s favorite bit was the circle stain of dark espresso by your side of his bed.

“Come with me to Silverstone and later to Zandvoort.”

You looked up at him, still not getting over the foot in height difference. Your neck had to crane for you to look him in the eyes.

“Think about it,” Max continued. “You’re taking a small break from your tours when Silverstone happens. And then Zandvoort is the Sunday before the Netherlands concert.”

You couldn’t say anything but yes.

Lando was surprised to see your hand held tightly in Max’s. The last thing he knew is that you and him were texting, but he didn’t know if it went any farther than that. The Briton was happy to learn that you had been behind the Dutchman’s wide smiles between races.

He thought you looked absolutely tiny next to Max, even in your usual heels. Lando did notice that you weren’t visible in the garage during the practices and even the race on Sunday. When it was him, Max, and Charles on the podium, he took his chances to ask.

“Where’s your superstar?”

Max visible brightened at the mention of you. “We’re not public yet. I think we like the privacy a bit too much.”

Lando looked confused. “But the song?”

He watched as Max leaned back with a laugh. “Mate, everyone thinks she’s in a relationship with either you or Sebastian of all people.”

“Why would it be Seb?” Charles piped up, finally joining the conversation.

“Because she sings something about calling me a honey bee. People are trying to connect that with the racing lyric and Seb’s bee keeping skills.”

The photographers thought that they were getting good pictures of the three enjoying the post-race celebrations as they caught giant smiles and laughs. They probably couldn’t even imagine the conversation that was going on.

It wasn’t until Zandvoort that people started to catch glimpses of you in the paddock. You smiled widely as you stepped through the turnstile, hand clasped in Max’s. Cameras were clicking wildly, but you knew how to ignore them.

You were here for Max and Max only.

You had wanted to find something orange to wear, but the weather was a bit rainy and cold. Max had convinced you to wear something warm, much to your chagrin. When you had pouted earlier in the hotel room, he just leaned down and kissed your lips.

“Hmmmm, espresso. My favorite.”

You had rolled your eyes. “Yeah, because you were up late again. I was able to get some more work done though.”

“Must have gotten some from you then.”

The Red Bull driver was able to secure his home race win, putting him just behind Charles in the standings. The Ferrari driver had been driving like a madman all season, and Max had just now been able to catch up to him. However, you knew how scared he was of losing his champion title.

But, this year, he had you to be his support. Whether he won or lost, you’d still be there. Unlike Kelly, you didn’t push your way into his life. You let him choose you when he wanted. There was no constant grabbing at his arms to pull him away from his crew.

When Max finally made his way to you, he just brought you in close. He wouldn’t have been able to kiss you with his helmet on anyway. When he pulled back, he was surprised to see tears in your eyes. His face must have had confusion written all over it as you shook your head.

“Happy tears. I’m so proud of you.”

The validation he got from you meant so much more than any he ever received. As Max looked down at you from the top step of the podium, you looked up at him like he hung the sun. The Dutchman would never fall tired of your gaze.

y/nl/n has posted

liked by maxverstappen1, mothery/n, verstopen33, and 4,204,938 others y/nl/n oh, he looks so cute, wrapped around my finger

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mothery/n WAS NOT EXPECTING THE HARD LAUNCH WHAT

f1xy/n thank you y/n for feeding us with boyfriend max material

verstappen33max I don't think I've seen him so smiley

maxverstappen1 💙 schatje

y/nl/n 💗 my love

y/nisqueen awwww I love them your honor

landonorris rue, when was this? 🤨

charles_leclerc me as well 😊

maxverstappen1 I think since February??

landonorris SINCE FEBRUARY???

charles_leclerc congrats!!

y/nl/n thank you charlieeeee

y/nvideo this is now my otp for the rest of my life 🥺

A week later, it was Max’s turn to stare at you the way that you stared at him. The little pink number that you were wearing was turning Max’s thoughts into something more that just hugs and kisses. But, he put those away (maybe for later) and just continued to enjoy the set that you had chosen.

He couldn’t believe that he was back in the same place that he had been eight months ago. But, there he was, still as starstruck as he had been. He loved to see you skip around, skirt still flinging around and heels still adorning your feet.

As the evening was closing, he just couldn’t wait to bring you back to the hotel to love on you, even more than he had already been doing. He wished time could speed up just a bit because he knew you were it for him.

There was a before you, a during you, and he never wanted there to be an after you.

He, along with the rest of the crowd and fellow drivers, got confused when you didn’t leave the stage after the last song. But, as slow piano music left the giant speakers, Max immediately knew what was happening.

In the past couple of months, you had been holed up in your studio, really only seeing Max whenever he dropped off lunch or when you came back to his house. And many times, he was surprised to see Charles there as well, dressed in comfy clothes and glasses on his face.

Piano sheet music always covered every inch of studio space when the Monegasque showed up, meaning that you were in the middle of creating a masterpiece. And, Max got to listen to multiple different melodies that the two of you put together. However, he wasn’t allowed to listen to any of the final demos which eventually got turned into songs.

Tears pricked his eyes when he heard you explain yourself to the crowd. You had turned a bit to face Max as you talked. Your message for him more than the crowd.

Your smile shined in the bright spotlights.

“This next song is one that I wrote for a very special person in my life. You all know who it is so I won’t embarrass him.”

Max could never be embarrassed by you.

“I call it Lover, because that is what he is to me. My one and only love. Max, my espresso, I love you dearly.”

And so dearly, he loved you too.

y/nl/n has posted

liked by dior, maxverstappen1, y/nfan, and 4,205,893 others y/nl/n a song for my lover? how about an album 💖

lover is now yours on all streaming platforms

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y/nfan I THINK I BEAT MAX TO THE LIKES

y/nfan never mind...

y/n.nation the new song and now new album, max please keep keeping her happy

charles_leclerc glad to be a part of the album y/n!

y/nl/n thank you Charles! merci beaucoup 🫶

maxverstappen1 my lover 💖

y/nl/n my one and only 💙

landonorris ok, when do I get an album??

y/nl/n I can set you up with one of my friends?

ynsmax and we all say "thank you max!"

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