#To this day this is the best hand I have ever drawn
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nuwildcat · 18 hours ago
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Okay, so hopefully you don't mind this, but this drawing absolutely refused to leave me alone since I've seen it and the writing gods demanded a sacrifice in it's honor.
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Jayce has only a basic understanding of undercity politics; even then, he knows this is a bad idea. 
He’s been coming down here for parts for over a year now. Which means he knows all the best places. Benzo’s is reliable. Good parts for a good price. [name]’s got interesting stuff, the issue is the quality is shit. It’s just as likely to break as it is to work. But there’s one place you only go if you’re really desperate. And Jayce is desperate. 
The Machine Herald’s. 
The name is odd, but from what Jayce has heard, if you need something unique, you’ll find it there. The issue is, what price will you pay for it? Because the owner is one of Silco’s. 
Even with his limited knowledge, Jayce knows you don’t fuck with Silco’s people. But again, he’s desperate.
If he can get this last part, he’ll finally have something to share that even Heimerdinger can’t dismiss for Progress Day. 
So he’s taking the risk — crossing the line you don’t cross as an outsider, and entering Zaun. 
Ever since the weird and antagonistic truce between Vander and Silco was struck, there’s been a divide in the lanes. On one side, Vander’s people. The other, the self-proclaimed Zaunites led by Silco. There’s literally a fucking line in the middle of the square demarcating whose land is whose. 
Jayce’s whole body tenses for an attack as soon as he’s stepped across it. Miraculously, his luck holds and nothing happens. 
Peering at the little map Ekko has drawn for him, Jayce frowns and turns left down an alley. 
Ekko had called him a crazy piltie with sludge for brains when he’d asked for directions to the Machine Herald’s, but Ekko is like twelve, so most of what he says is insults.  
The building is pretty nondescript. Jayce almost walks past it, but a cog mounted over the door catches his eye. It’s been welded into its shape by combining many other smaller items, wrenches, pipes, and what looks like a set of keys.
Jayce stares up at it over the open door, trying to pick apart everything in the cog.
“You look lost pretty boy.”
Jayce jumps, too focused on the art, he missed that a man appeared in the doorway. The stranger leans nonchalantly on the door jamb, shooting Jayce an almost mocking look as the pipe dangling from his fingers slowly lets off swirls of pinkish smoke.
He’s startlingly pretty.
The combination of half-skirt, corset, and unbuttoned shirt is clearly meant to draw the eye, and draw it does. Jayce scans the man, struggling to put his finger on what it is about the man that’s so striking.
A quirked brow reminds Jayce he’s yet to say anything.
“I—uh. I’m looking for a—a part?”
The man smirks, his face only getting more attractive, which is doing nothing for Jayce’s ability to string a sentence together.
“I should hope so,” the man replies. “Otherwise you’d need to head elsewhere.” There’s a unique accent to the man’s soft voice, slightly raspy from the smoking.
Jayce chuckles, and steps closer to the shop. “I’m Jayce,” he says, holding out his hand.
The man stares at him, eyes flicking down to his outstretched hand and back up to his face, amusement growing stronger.
“Viktor,” he says, passing the pipe to his other hand before shaking Jayce’s hand. “How can I help you, Jayce?”
Jayce takes a deep breath and dives right into explaining what he’s looking for. As he talks, the other man gives him a bewildered look before a glint enters his eyes, and Jayce can tell he has Viktor’s full attention.
What follows is a three-hour discussion about mechanics that robs Jayce of half his monthly stipend, but sends him home with no less than four different parts he hasn’t been able to find anywhere else.
Viktor sees him off, once again leaning casually in the doorway with a smirk firmly in place. He’s likely overcharged Jayce for everything, but Jayce is so pleased he doesn’t even mind.
“Make sure to hurry back, pretty boy,” Viktor calls to him as Jayce walks away.
Looking back, Jayce shakes his head at the other man and shoots him a wink. He’s whistling as he makes his way back out of Zaun and the lanes. Today, was a very good day.
_______________
Jayce goes back. 
It’s dumb. So very, very dumb, but he does it anyway. They’d talked for hours that first time, Viktor able to not only understand his designs but to make them better. 
Not even Heimerdinger’s done that. 
It doesn’t hurt that Viktor is one of the most beautiful people Jayce has ever seen. And he’s dated Mel Medarda. He knows beautiful. 
There’s something special about Viktor. Fragility paired with a cocky confidence that makes warmth spark to life in Jayce’s belly when he sees the other man. 
It’s all rather new for Jayce. He’s feeling out of his depth. Especially with the way that Viktor has draped himself over Jayce after shoving him unceremoniously on the couch. Legs tossed over Jayce’s, Viktor is sprawled back on the arm, ever-present pipe dangling from his fingers. 
“What’s that for?” Jayce asks before he’s thought the question through. 
Viktor pauses, holding in the hit he’s just taken before letting it spill from his lips, pink-tinted and smoky. 
“It helps with the pain.”
Jayce eyes drift to the brace partially hidden by Viktor’s skirt. He’s only been able to catch glimpses and his curiosity is gnawing at him to see more. 
Viktor stretches, knocking the skirt to the side and putting the brace and himself on display. 
“See something you like, topsider?”
Jayce ignores the taunt, peering closer at the brace. “Did you make this?”
Viktor loses some of his bravado in the face of Jayce’s admiration. 
“I did.”
It’s a gorgeous piece of engineering, and the forge master in Jayce wants a better look. 
“May I?” He asks, fingers hovering over Viktor’s leg. 
This time there’s no false bravado. Viktor nods and watches him like a hawk. 
Gently, Jayce lifts the leg, turning it a bit to see how the various parts of the brace move. Viktor doesn’t fight him, relaxed and loose in his grasp. The brace is a seamless creation. Jayce is highly impressed, so he says so. 
“It’s beautiful.”
Viktor lets out a noise that makes Jayce turn from the brace despite how much he wants to study it. A Cheshire grin has spread on the other man’s face, and there’s a glint in his eyes that speaks of danger. 
“Jayce Talis. Are you flirting with me?”
Jayce freezes, not sure he could cobble together a response even if he could get his tongue working with Viktor looking at him like that. 
One moment Viktor’s sprawled like a satisfied house cat, the next he’s straddling Jayce, arms draped over Jayce’s shoulders. 
“You like?” he purrs. 
Jayce’s brain has stopped working. He’s pretty sure for a second there be blacked out, because now his hands are holding Viktor’s waist, gripping the corset that must act as a second brace. 
Oh fuck. Jayce stares, unable to get what he’s seeing to make sense. His hands—his hands almost span Viktor’s tiny waist. 
For a moment, there’s just static in his brain and then something clicks. His brain lights up, and he squeezes. 
“Oh fuck,” he murmurs. Still staring. 
Viktor chuckles breathily, his finger threading through Jayce’s hair and then pulling, yanking Jayce’s head back. Jayce grunts, tingles racing down his spine as heat pools in his belly.
“Careful pretty boy,” Viktor whispers, leaning down so that Jayce’s eyes cross as he tries to watch Viktor’s lips. “You’re playing with fire.”
Jayce is pretty sure he’d like to be burned.
“You look like you don’t have a clue what to do,” Viktor murmurs, lashes dipping prettily.
“I mean, technically?” Jayce blurts out. Viktor pulls back, looking down at him confused. Jayce shrugs. “Inexperienced? No. This particular situation? Also no.”
Viktor cocks his head in confusion, eyeing Jayce like he’s a specimen Viktor means to study. Again that wicked smile spreads and Jayce’s heart thumps in excitement.
Leaning down so his breath ghosts over Jayce’s lips, Viktor says, “Whoever let you wander down here should have known better.”
Jayce’s mouth drops open, anticipation and want bubbling up inside him. Just a little closer.
“Piltover’s loss,” Viktor whispers. Then he kisses Jayce.
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Zaun vik and Jayce
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gurlu · 2 months ago
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Swag : ON.
Orb: PONDERED.
Money : GANG.
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lunapegasus · 1 year ago
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Nearly a year ago today I made this blog and posted my art online for the first time. So here's a redraw of it to celebrate :) Also sketch under the cut because it actually looks very different than the lineart but I really like it (+ the lineart for comparison)
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cuteniaarts · 9 months ago
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Fanny, my sweet, beautiful girl
17.11.2012 – 14.04.2019
#my art#artists on tumblr#I cannot accept that it has been 5 years already#I know covid messed with everyone’s sense of time but it simultaneously feels so much longer and so much shorter than that#exactly five years ago I was holding onto my mom for dear life and sobbing as we watched lilo and stitch together#not the best movie to watch when you’ve just lost your first ever pet you know#and then I cried myself to sleep at the next morning we never mentioned her again#I know it’s because it was way too painful for everyone involved. but I do wish I was allowed to process that grief properly#instead of bottling it up and pretending everything was okay until I was reminded of her#feeling like my heart was being shattered over and over again every single time#well anyway. enough of that. I’ve allowed myself a nice long cry today and got most of it out of my system#and once I was feeling okay I decided to draw her#and I can count the number of times I’ve drawn animals on one hand so.. I’m not too sure about the result#but it felt like to commemorate her in some way.#so yeah. here she is. my dear girl. the best dog in existence. she was always so affectionate and kind#which I didn’t always appreciate bc of how young I was. when you’re a kid it feels like pets will live forever#never barked. never bit anyone. her only crime was chewing on my mlp and lps toys that I left out on the floor#but I’m grateful she did that. it taught me not to leave my toys lying around and to clean up after myself#she really was taken from me way too soon. ideally she could still be alive right now. but I’ve been down the road of guilt and regret#there was nothing I could do. I was a child. I can only hope that she knew she was loved right until the very end#even if I didn’t know how to show it properly. and great. now I’m tearing up again#I suppose it’s unavoidable. April 12th will always be a melancholy day. and maybe that’s not such a bad thing#it’s good to have a day when I can freely remember her and cry if I need to. it’s healthy. it’s better than crying every day#she never liked it much when I cried. always tried to comfort me. that’s the kind of dog she was. I miss her so much#when I move apartments and get a dog of my own I’m getting a spaniel. just like she was#well. maybe a different colour so I don’t end up sobbing every time I look at it. but spaniels really are the perfect breed#I mean. cavaliers especially were bred for love and warmth. that’s just what I need. it will be nice to have someone waiting for me at home#and while I don’t necessarily believe in the afterlife… I do hope that Fanny’s watching over me#spiritually comforting me when I feel all alone in the world. it’s a nice thought for sure#and hopefully she won’t mind me getting another spaniel too much. it will be done in her honour after all. to make up for my past mistakes
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vampireb1tez · 11 months ago
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Helloooooo it is VALENTINE’S DAY.
Prim and Isaac again because they are THE power couple of Life Itself. I’m genuinely frothing at the mouth, I love these two so much and I cannot WAIT to write their love story!
Oh yeah it’s also Isaac’s birthday. :3
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karamell-sweetz · 2 years ago
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lovely fairy iced tea!
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somnoir · 2 months ago
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My father's secretary
Danny Fenton did not expect to be secretary material but after 7 years of being a hero and having Jazz as his elder sister, he was damn good at it. He needed a job, he knew that, and Wayne Enterprises was willing to hire a 21 year old taking online college classes for aerospace engineering.
And he was fucking thankful for that cause Mr. Wayne was pretty neat and bought him good food and coffee whenever he looked out of it. Half his family were already in Gotham with only his parents in Amity. They were finally reformed and now their research finally advocated for the rights of ghosts and spread awareness on their culture. Good for them.
Jazz and Dante were in Arkham working as a psychologist and guard. Elle was still in school, enrolled into Gotham Academy once Vlad insisted on paying her tuition. To be fair, he was paying for Danny's tuition too.
But back to his secretary duties. His boss was Bruce Wayne, yes, but he did often work with the man's son and the current CEO. Tim was nice and had the same caffeine addiction as him. (Jazz highly discouraged this friendship in case they both made a monstrosity of coffee and energy drinks.)
But Mr. Wayne was the best. He was rather clumsy and a bit airheaded but he was the best fucking boss he could ever ask for. The man's paternal instincts were on point and Danny was almost intimidated when the man started handing him extra cash whenever Danny came to the office looking more tired than usual. When that failed, Mr. Wayne resorted to giving him more material things.
Now, he doesn't want to take advantage of this ridiculously kind man with a lack of self preservation (God, was this what Jazz felt about him?). But Mr. Wayne had given him this amazing coffee maker and then proceeded to give Danny the best toaster ever. And Danny has always been known to resolutely be against Billionaires adopting him. But Mr. Wayne?
Danny had honed his back talking skills to perfection to talk down arrogant elites that kept demanding for his boss. He mastered his customer service voice and that condescending look he saw the receptionists give people like they were tantruming toddlers. Danny was ready to fight for that man (Vlad was choking somewhere as the Fentons worriedly look at him).
Jason has heard about Danny Fenton a couple of times. Tim, Dick, and Bruce had mentioned him a lot. Bruce's new secretary that looked like he'd woken up from a coma and was comparable to a grumpy cat on his best days. He's seen the guy a couple times, noticed how he was almost as tall as Jason. Honestly, he kinda looked like a twig (but then that was because of Danny's suit that he made sure didn't completely fit him).
Seriously. Danny was willing to fucking fight anyone and everyone for Bruce Wayne.
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The guy was strange. Very strange. Especially when the pits seemed to either become frantic or calm whenever he was around. It depended on the situation really, but mostly the pits grew calmer around Fenton. Like a cat that finally saw its favorite person. It was so weird.
He was drawn to Fenton, sometimes finding himself walking towards the man before he snaps out of it.
It's on this day where Danny was by Bruce's side, a stylus and tablet in hand. He was furiously tapping away at his phone, cursing under his breath about bothersome and stuck up cialiteses.
"Jason!" Bruce happily greets, "Don't mind Danny for a bit. He's telling of some investors for trying to meddle with the company. Tim is too sleep deprived to handle it."
"Where is Tim?"
"Danny threatened to throw the company's coffee maker out the window if he doesn't take a nap." Bruce chuckles, glancing fondly at his fiesty secretary. "Danny?"
"Give me a minute, Mr. Wayne. Some people are trying to squeeze into your schedule when I specifically told them that they can't." Danny says, clearly irritated but looks at Bruce with an apologetic gaze. "No—Mr. Luthor, neither Mr. Drake nor Mr. Wayne are available on that day—"
And it dissolved into Danny telling of what Jason assumes was Lex Luthor to stop his attempts. In other words, corporate for Fuck off.
"He's good, isn't he?" Jason humms as he follows Bruce down the hall, glancing at the tired employees that looked utterly exhausted and horrifically motivated. "Looks like adoption bait."
"Unfortunately, Danny is a very much against Billionaires adopting him. His godfather is one and has attempted multiple times." Bruce sighs, feigning a sorrowful look as he sends Danny a small pout. "What did you do when he tried the fifth time again?"
"I blew up his car, Mr. Wayne." Danny nonchalantly says, "But that only made him want to adopt me more."
Jason blinks, baffled before he's laughing at the utter absurdity of the situation.
"That sounds similar to—"
Gunshots tore through the air as people immediately screamed. At the entrance of the building was the Joker in all his insanity, guns blazing. Jason froze, sucking in a deep breath as he took one step back. They weren't in costume, they weren't the Red Hood and Batman in that moment.
"Nightwing, Robin, and Spoiler are on their way." Oracle says through the comms but that doesn't comfort him in the slightest.
It's chaos in moments and people are ducking their heads to avoid the bullets. Jason and Bruce look right at each other, taking cover as bullets ruin the walls and furniture. But Bruce is dragged from his spot, pulled towards the Joker who laughs maniacally as he pressed a gun against Bruce's head.
"Mr. Wayne!" Many people yell as they all stared in horror as the Joker threatens Gotham's beloved prince.
Jason immediately remembers an explosion and a crowbar.
(Reminder, Danny Fenton was very much ready to go to war for Bruce Wayne).
A tablet and a stylus was suddenly shoved into his arms. Jason blinks, turning to Danny who tugs at his tie and rummages through the counter for something. The Joker sees this, clearly irritated.
"You! Eyes on me!" The Joker practically demands, hysterical that not everyone was paying attention.
Danny apparently doesn't give a damn before looking the Joker straight in the eye.
"Eyes in me." Danny repeats.
A second later something was thrown and a cutter was cutting through the Joker's eye.
Jason gaped at the seemingly harmless secretary, unable to comprehend that this man had just thrown a fucking cutter into the Joker's eye.
Bruce is set free.
Everyone is frozen in place.
Everyone watched as Bruce Wayne's tired and overworked secretary beats the shit out of the Joker, saying something about how he wasn't going to lose a good boss.
No one particularly knows what to do once Danny pulls out the cutter with the Jokers blood and... Fucking shit, was that his eyeball?!
Dick and Damian arrived at some point, also too shocked to do anything. When Danny was done and satisfied, with the Joker still alive, groaning and whimpering from the pain that Danny inflicted.
As if he hadn't almost killed the Joker, Danny turns to them with a tired smile.
"Mr. Wayne, I implore you not to die. I can't lose the best boss that I've had." He plainly says and takes the tablet and stylus back from Jason.
Jason thinks he might just marry this feral man.
Yeah.
Yeah, he was definitely going to marry Danny Fenton.
Part 2 | Masterpost
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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months ago
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bambi
in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!
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You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 
How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 
So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 
He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”
You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 
“Fuck—I said slow.”
You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.
Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”
“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”
“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”
“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 
Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 
“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 
It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 
“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”
“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”
By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 
“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”
You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 
“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”
Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.
“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”
Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 
“Please can I go faster?”
Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 
“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”
You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 
Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—
“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”
“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”
“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 
“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 
Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 
“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”
“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 
“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”
And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 
“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 
So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”
“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 
“According to who?”
“According to… I was on top…”
“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”
You whine softly. “No they’re not.”
His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 
“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”
You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”
“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”
“Hm.”
“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”
And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 
Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 
“I’m sleepy.”
“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 
“I can’t.”
“Why’s that?”
“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”
“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”
“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”
“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”
“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 
“Tender?”
“Mhm.”
“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”
“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 
“Yeah?”
“Mhm.”
“Lie down.”
Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 
“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 
“Hm?”
“I love you.”
He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”
��Glad we’re on the same page.”
He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 
The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 
Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 
“Was that on purpose?”
“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 
Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 
“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 
He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”
The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.
And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.
Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 
The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 
In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 
You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 
“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 
You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 
“Shaky?”
“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”
“No.”
He sighs good-naturedly. 
“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”
“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”
When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 
“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”
6K notes · View notes
spideyjimin · 2 months ago
Text
Wait for your love | jjk
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—  pairing: firefighter!jungkook x female reader 
—  genre: kind of exes to lovers, parents au, angst, fluff, and smut 
— rating: 18+ 
—  summary: sixteen years ago, your life was turned upside down when you surrendered to the temptation — none other than jungkook, the star basketball player on your school’s team. today, after all that time, you reunite under tragic circumstances; a car crash where he saves your life.
—  words: 17,383
—  warnings: strong language, car accident, blood, mention of pregnancy, mention of cheating, mention of divorce, mention of sex, sever injuries, mention of death, crying, mention of heartbreak, mention of breakup, oc suffers quite a lot, mention of unprotected sex, mention of fire, mention of fighting, kissing, pain struggle, tattooed!jungkook, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, praising, oc and jungkook are needy, choking, a bit of fingering, a bit of handjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, morning sex, slow sex (is it even a thing?), and creampie
—  author’s note: so here you finally have this fic 🤗 i’ve been working on it for a little while already & i’ve adored writing it! To be honest, this is my fav jk that i’ve ever written 🫣I truly hope you’ll enjoy this fic as much as i’ve enjoyed writing it ✨ don’t hesitate to let me know what you think of it ❤️
—  playlist: supernatural | forget about us | standing next to you | bed chem | juno
MASTERLIST
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The sound of the sirens echoes in your ears.
Your eyes are completely shut, your entire body hurts, and you put your hand on your head as if you’re trying to stop the pain you’re feeling. Slowly you try to open your eyes, and you see the completely broken windshield of your car. You take a look around to notice how damaged the inside of your car is.
It’s pretty bad.
Your eyes flutter shut once more, the effort to keep them open too much to bear. Gradually, you feel yourself falling asleep. As you slip into slumber, your mind is drawn back to a painful memory — the day you gave your son up for adoption.  
Being a teen mother wasn’t on your plans. Even though you really wanted to become a mother, it simply wasn’t possible then. Having a kid at sixteen wouldn’t be easy and for sure, you wouldn’t be able to offer a proper life to that kid. It wouldn’t be fair to him to keep him only because you wished to become a mother. He deserved to have a good life, to have loving parents, and to accomplish all his dreams.
On top of that, the baby was living proof that you cheated on your then-boyfriend. Definitely, you weren’t proud of yourself. The father of your baby was a bit of a jerk, but, when he found out about your pregnancy, he showed nothing but support. It was surprising, but it felt great to have him by your side.
Giving your son up for adoption was devastatingly hard. But it was the best for him. After that, you spent the last sixteen years wondering what he had become. Every boy you met that’d match his age; you’d wonder if it was him. And sometimes, you’d regret abandoning him. In those moments, crying was the only solution.
As hard as possible, you resist the urge to fall asleep, but the headache is making this battle hard to fight.
“Ma'am,” you hear a distant voice.
Those words echo in your mind, and strangely, it feels like this voice is a familiar one. The pain must be causing some hallucination, you think. But as hard as you can, you try to find out who could be the owner of that voice.
While you think, your eyes open a bit before closing again. Your hand remains on your head, and suddenly, you remember who it is. It is the father of your firstborn.
As you realize who it might be, you shake your head. It’s impossible to be him. After the birth of your baby, you went separate ways and never heard of him anymore. Sometimes, you hope to meet him again to check what he has become.
That man was handsome as hell so you’re absolutely sure that he found someone, got married, and had children. From time to time, you think about him and wonder if he also thinks about your baby as much as you do. Maybe he doesn’t since you’re convinced he has new children to think of.
But that’s silly of you to think that because after your firstborn, you had three other adorable children: two girls, Jia and Jiwoo, and a little boy, Jeong. Being their mother and caring about them never made you forget about your first.
On top of being a mother, you also got married to Minkyu. You met him three years after giving birth, and you were convinced he was the love of your life. However, you ended up divorcing after eight years of marriage. It wasn’t easy, you felt like a total failure. Now, you’re living on your own, sharing custody of your three babies with your ex-husband. Luckily, you remained on good terms, you’d even say you’re friends now.
For the past two years, you’ve been focusing on yourself which means no relationships. But that doesn’t exclude one-night stands. You’re very careful as you don’t want your children to one day stumble upon one of the guys you’ve been fucking with. And you also want to avoid getting pregnant again.
When you planned on stopping the pill to have a child with Minkyu, your gynecologist told you that you seemed to be the fertile type. She was quite right since you got pregnant right after stopping the pill. In three years, you had three kids. So, it explains it all. And it also explains how you easily got pregnant at sixteen, the only time you didn’t use protection.
Now, you’re wondering if this is how your life ends. You’ve last seen your kids four days ago, you’re probably never going to fall in love again, and you’re never going to see your firstborn. This is a tragic way to die. Your mind only thinks about your babies.
Although your mind feels disconnected from your body, you sense a pair of strong arms lifting you up.  Your body is completely sore, and even being held in someone’s arms is painful. The person is talking to you, or at least talking to someone but your brain doesn’t process the words at all.   
Then, the pain knocks you up.
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Jungkook and his team got called for a car accident involving several cars, and when they arrived, the scene was horrific.
There are probably five cars pressed and smashed one against the other. There are people injured and bleeding walking around the scene. Paramedics are already taking care of them, but Jungkook is walking to the cars to retrieve the people stuck inside. His captain screams orders and tells him which car he should go to.
His eyes look around, his heart breaking when he sees everyone involved and still stuck in their cars. Visions like this are quite common for him, it doesn’t happen all the time but it’s still recurrent. At the end of the day, his job is to save people in this type of situation.
When he reaches the car, he was assigned to, he takes a look at how many people there are inside. There’s just one person, a woman behind the steering wheel. She has her hand on her head, clearly showing that she might have a headache. She doesn’t really move. Instantly, Jungkook tries to open the door, but it’s showing a bit of resistance.
It feels impossible to open the door, but Jungkook sees the woman’s head falling. He’s getting worrier; she’s slumping into sleep which isn’t a good sign as she was holding her head barely seconds ago. He then proceeds to break the window so he can try to open it from inside. There are other possible ways, but it would be harder and more dangerous to get her out of the vehicle.
“Ma’am,” he says with urge.
Eventually, he manages to open the damn door from the inside. A good part of the car’s front is crashing into her. Before even thinking of taking her out, he places a cervical collar to protect her neck and spine.
“Ma’am,” he repeats. “Can you hear me?”
She doesn’t answer at all. Jungkook gets closer, his fingers brushing the hair from her face, but when he finally gets to properly see the woman’s face, his heart skips a beat. This woman is none other than you. His mind can’t start to get lost in the past right now. He needs to focus on taking you out of the car.   
You’re in pretty bad shape.
There’s blood on your forehead, you most probably have a wound on top of your head. There’s also blood at the level of your stomach, turning your green shirt into a very dark color. He can distinguish a big fragment of glass shoved into your belly. It doesn’t look good. Your legs are also completely smashed by the front, causing the steering wheel to be very close to your body.  Hopefully, your legs aren’t too injured. He doesn’t even want to start thinking about all the bruises on your body.
Slowly, he places one hand behind your back while his other hand slowly pushes your legs. He’s trying to be as careful as possible to avoid causing any other injury.  His strong arms hold you once he manages to fully remove you from the car. His eyes look down at your face with evident pain. He notices how you’re trying to open your eyes which makes him think that you’re trying to fight the urge to fall asleep.
“Yn,” he says while walking to an ambulance. “Please, stay with me,” he whispers with despair. “I’ve finally found you, and I can’t lose you right away.”
A tear streams down his face as Jungkook begins to run. “Fuck, fuck,” he mumbles when he realizes that you’ve now fallen asleep.  “Help me here,” he shouts to some paramedics.
Two people run in his direction with a stretcher, and he carefully places you there. His eyes never leave you until you’re placed inside an ambulance.
Never did he think he’d find you like this. For the past sixteen years, he imagined the many ways he’d stumble upon you. He thought of meeting you randomly one day in the streets, in a shop, or even in a restaurant. Meeting you after a car crash wasn’t on his mind at all.
Jungkook then proceeds to take care of the other people stuck in their cars. His job isn’t over yet, other people are waiting for his help. Thankfully enough, after so many years of experience, he’s able to focus on what he has to do.
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Slowly, you open your eyes. Instinctively, you place your hand on your head since you last remember having a headache, but it doesn’t hurt—at least not anymore. For a brief moment, you close your eyes again while trying to understand what happened.  
Once you open your eyes once more, you look around to realize that you’re lying on a hospital bed. You’re in a room, an individual one. Although you’re alone in a room, can hear many people talking outside.
In the midst of all the noise, you distinguish your sister’s voice. You can’t really understand what she’s saying but she seems worried. Somebody is talking to her, but you don’t recognize the voice. After a little while, your sister opens the door to join you.
A smile appears on her face when she sees you awake. “Yn,” she says before hugging you. You wrap your arms around her, she’s holding you tight. There’s no need for her to speak for you to understand she was dead worried. It also leaves you wondering if you’re really in a bad situation.  When she finally takes a step back, you can see how worried she is.
“I was death worried,” she says. “I thought you died.”
Those words crunch your heart. The simple thought of picturing your sister thinking that is heartbreaking. However, you’re still here. Maybe not in your best shape but you’re still alive.
“Death was too afraid of me,” you jokingly say.
“It’s not funny,” she’s definitely annoyed that you’re joking. “It’s very bad, yn.”
Her eyes don’t betray her, it doesn’t look great. For sure, it’s bad since you remember seeing your car completely destroyed. Memories of the car crash come back. It happened quite fast. The car in front of you didn’t notice the car on the left. Two vehicles in front of you suddenly collided with each other. Due to the small distance and minimal reaction time, you were unable to stop in time, which led to you colliding into the cars. The same happened to the cars behind colliding into you.
“Two people died in the crash, yn, and the doctors didn’t give me many details when they called me,” she explains.
“How long have I been here?” you ask.
It leaves you wondering how long it has been since the car crash happened.
“Almost two days,” she informs.
“Oh,” you simply say.
Your sister then proceeds to explain to you that you went through a couple of surgeries.
When you arrived, you had a glass shoved into your stomach and it caused some damage. You were bleeding internally so you first had surgery to remove the glass and stitch any part of your intestines that needed to be repaired.
On top of that, your knees were destroyed and a part of your hips was broken. So after the stomach surgery, you went through a long surgery to repair your knees, and later on, another one to repair your hips.
Your sister doesn’t know the specificities of the surgeries, but those surgeries are already a lot. She also tells you that you evidently have bruises and scratches all over your body. It definitely sounds bad, but you’re under the influence of painkillers so you don’t really feel anything so far.
“Where are Jia, Jiwoo, and Jeong?” you ask looking around.
“Minkyu took them back home a couple of hours ago,” she tells you.
If your sister was dead worried, you can’t even start to imagine how your kids were feeling. You have such a strong bond with them, and they are still so young; your little Jiwoo is only four years old. You don’t even doubt that they started imagining the worst.
“How are they?” you ask.
“As you can imagine, it’s been harder for them than for anyone else,” your heart aches. “They’ve been crying a lot.”
You close your eyes, holding back the tears. It breaks your heart to have put your babies through this. Even though it’s far from being your fault, you never want to hurt your babies like that. Your role as a mother is to protect them.
“We’ve all been there for them,” she adds.
A tear runs down your face.
“Don’t worry, big sis,” she says before hugging you once more. “They’ll be so happy to see you fully awake.”
You hold her tight in your embrace to comfort you in some kind of way. For a little while, you both stay like this.
“There’s been a firefighter coming to visit you every day,” she whispers in your ear. “A handsome one, actually.”
A little giggle escapes your lips.
“Stop saying nonsense,” you give her a little tap.
She takes a step back with the brightest smile on her face.
“I’m very serious, yn,” she says. “The firefighter that saved you has been coming to check up on you.”
Well, it sounds like he’s kind of adorable. It’s definitely very sweet of him to take the time to check up on you after saving your life.
“He’s extremely hot too,” she adds.
“Stop it,” you say. “You’re exaggerating!”
“I am not!” she instantly replies. “You’ll see when he comes.”
You roll your eyes. She’s definitely unbelievable as always, but she’s your sister. You love her beyond comprehension because she was your very first baby. You have a ten-year gap and you’ve been taking care of her since the very first minute she was born. Your parents had her very late; they were almost 40 years old but the happiest.
When you were around two, they started trying to have a second child. However, it didn’t go as planned. Your mother suffered two miscarriages and after that, it became even harder to have a child. Eventually, when you were around eight, they gave up. They were happy to have you and settled with the idea that you’d be an only child.
But against all odds, a year later, she got pregnant. The pregnancy went to full term, and that’s how you became a big sister.
The gap between you was harder around your teenage years. All you were thinking about was boys, and all she wanted was to play. She also wanted to have a younger sibling, but your parents were already too old for that. Your mum said that she couldn’t handle another big age gap between her kids.
Your sister was the happiest when you announced your pregnancy at sixteen. She was only six back then, and that baby would have been like the little sibling she always desired to have. She was devastated when you explained to her that you wouldn’t keep the baby. Your parents were too but they understood and supported your decision.
Outside your parents, nobody ever knew that Jungkook was the father of your first son. At first, your ex-boyfriend thought that he was the father, that maybe a condom broke and that’s how you got pregnant. But you always knew that he wasn’t the father. It simply wasn’t possible. It all got confirmed when you birthed a baby that looked a lot like Jungkook.
You still remember how heartbroken your ex was, and you couldn’t blame him. The breakup was too hard to handle back then so you never told anyone who the father was, except for Jungkook. He deserved to know the truth. You weren’t expecting much from him as he was the basketball star of your school team. And above anything else, he was a complete jerk.
Nevertheless, he proved you wrong when he supported you. He was by your side for the entirety of the pregnancy. He came to all the ultrasounds and gynecologist's appointments. He was there, and he completely stopped being a jerk to your eyes. Eventually, you became closer, but you refused to be more than friends even though you had strong feelings for him.
Why?
Because it’d be too hard to stay with him after giving up your son for adoption. Jungkook was also supposed to leave for one of the best colleges after that. It was in another city, and you knew he’d stay if you dated. You refused to let him give up his dreams for you. You broke his heart; you could see it in his eyes, but it was for the best. If you were meant to be, you’d find your way back. But it never happened. After that, you completely lose contact.  
There’s a knock on the door. Your sister proceeds to open it, letting the person come in. “Speaking of the devil,” she turns her head to look at you with the brightest smile on her face.
When the famous live-savior firefighter enters, the entire world completely freezes. The firefighter is none other than Jungkook. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes meet. After all these years, you finally see him again.
A smile spreads on his face when he sees you awake. You can tell that he’s relieved. For an instant, you take a proper look at him. He’s still wearing his firefighter uniform, indicating that he most probably came from a mission — if that’s the correct word to use. His hair is very short and a tiny bit messy. Above anything else, he absolutely looks tired, the dark circles under his eyes betraying him.
“Hi,” he simply says as he takes a step inside.
“Hi, Jungkook,” you reply.
Your sister is at first taken aback by the fact that you know his name, but as she takes a proper look at your facial expressions, she can tell that you know him.
“I’ll leave you two,” she says before disappearing.
“How are you feeling?” he asks while getting closer.
“I guess fine for now, but not sure, how I’ll feel when the painkillers will no longer have any effects.”   
His eyes scan your face while yours do the same. His beauty is still breathtaking; you’d even say that he aged like fine wine.
“Thanks for rescuing me from the car crash,” you add.
“No need to thank me,” he instantly replies. “It’s part of my job.”
“I still need to. Without you, I wouldn’t be here today.”
Even though it’s part of his job, he saved you, and he deserves to be thanked for that. You would have said it to any other firefighter.
“It’s good to see you awake,” he says.
There is so much you want to say to him, but at the same time, now that you have him in front of you, you don’t even know what to say.
“I just quickly passed by to check up on you,” he informs you. “I need to get back to work.”
“No problems,” you reply. “Thanks for coming.”
“Would you mind if I come back later?” he nervously asks.
Your heart is now racing in your chest. Of course, you want him to come back so you get to catch up and find out how he went from basketball player to firefighter.
“No, I wouldn’t mind,” a little smile appears on your face.
“Thanks,” he says before waving goodbye and leaving your room.
Seconds later, your sister storms inside your room. She has that expression on her face that says: ‘who the hell is this guy?’.
“Who is he?” she asks while taking a seat.
She’s definitely expecting to hear something like: “he’s a guy I slept with after my breakup”, or “I met him at a bar”, or anything of that sort because it was obvious there was something going on between you. The look you both had wasn’t saying we were simply friends. It was a look screaming “something hot and sexy happened between us”.
“The guy that knocked me up sixteen years ago.”
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“Mama,” your oldest daughter, Jia says. “When are you leaving the hospital?”
An hour ago, the doctor in charge of you came to explain the extent of the situation to you. Since you now have metal wires in your knees, you’ll have to go through a long recovery, and you’ll have to follow physiotherapy to learn how to walk again.
On top of that, your intestines were stitched, and it will definitely be hard for a moment to eat and drink. So, for at least ten days, you’ll remain in observation at the hospital. There is for sure a very long recovery ahead of you, but what matters is that you’re still alive.
For what is coming, you know you can count on your family’s support, and without any doubts, seeing your babies will help you navigate the hard times. Obviously, you’re also very self-aware that sometimes, it might be too hard, and during those times, even your support system won’t be enough.
“I’ll stay for a little while, boo,” you answer.
She seems a bit sad by your answer which is totally understandable. Briefly, you take a look at Jiwoo and Jeong to see if they also look sad, and they have the exact same facial expression as their older sister.
Your ex-husband, Minkyu is also present. It’s logical since it’s his week with them, and also because you were literally in a coma. When your eyes meet, you give him a little smile. By the way he’s looking at you, he definitely seems worried.
“But you’ll see, time will go by super-fast,” you try to reassure them. “And very soon, I’ll be home with you.”
You can’t wait to go home and be with them even though for a little while, due to the recovery time, it won’t be easy at all. But you’ll be with your babies which honestly is the only thing that matters.
Your babies jump on the bed and hug you. Feeling all this love coming from the little human beings you create warms your heart beyond comprehension. Although the pain is starting to kick in, you pretend like you don’t feel anything because you want to savor this moment with them.
Jeong, your son, shows you what he drew at school for you. He takes the time to explain what it represents. It’s definitely adorable. Then, Jiwoo tells you how her day went by. She played a lot with her friends, she learned to count until 20, and her teacher told her she was an amazing learner. Her face was shining, and you couldn’t be prouder.
Your oldest daughter doesn’t speak much, letting her younger siblings talk. You then try to make her talk about her day, but she bursts into tears, hiding her face in your chest. Your heart definitely breaks while you hold her in your arms.
“What happened, boo?” you caress her back, trying to comfort her as much as you can.
She’s heavily crying, your shirt getting wet with her tears.
“My little boo-boo,” you whisper. “What’s going on?” you add. “Tell me.”
She hugs you even more which squeezes your heart. You don’t like seeing your babies like that.
“I thought you were dead, mommy,” she sniffs.
“Oooh, my boo-boo,” you really want to cry at her words. Imagining her thinking that is one thing but hearing her saying it out loud is something completely different. “I’m so sorry.” That’s all you can say.
Jiwoo and Jeong join the hug, trying in their own way to comfort their big sister. This is a heartwarming hug, and it comforts you beyond comprehension. It’s hard to see them like that, but it’ll get better with time. Minkyu joins you for what is like a family hug now. This right here is the only thing that you need.
After this uplifting moment, your ex-husband and babies leave you alone in this cold hospital room. They need to go back home; the kids need to wash, do their homework, and get ready for bed. You wish they could have stayed longer because you don’t want to stay alone.  
The pain is now unbearable, and it honestly scares you for the long recovery awaiting you. Luckily, right after your family left, a nurse came in to give you dinner together with strong painkillers.
The food is —as imagined— disgusting. There’s nothing you can do about it, but tomorrow, you’ll try to convince your sister to bring you a pizza or sushi or some fast food. There’s no way you’ll survive ten days with this horrible food.
A little later, someone knocks at the door. As promised earlier, Jungkook appears inside your room with a bright smile on his face. You return the smile as it honestly makes you happy that he’s here.
“Hi,” you say.
For a brief moment, your eyes linger on his figure. He’s no longer in his firefighter uniform;  he’s dressed in an all-black outfit that, in all honesty, suits him well. A pair of jeans, a tight shirt, and a leather jacket give him an entirely different vibe from earlier. His hair, now perfectly arranged, makes him look strikingly similar to how he did sixteen years ago.  
“Hi,” he walks closer to you.
His eyes notice the serving tray with the empty plate.
“Was it good?” he points to the empty plate.
“It definitely wasn’t,” a little laugh escapes your lips while you shake your head. “The good thing is that the dessert was a chocolate mousse.”
Jungkook’s smile grows bigger on his face.
“Your favorite dessert,” he whispers.
Now, you’re the one smiling more. When pregnant, you could eat a chocolate mousse without growing tired of it. Due to that, you gained quite some weight during your first pregnancy. Anyway, it was the least of your concerns since you knew you were about to give your son up for adoption.
“You still remember…”
“How couldn’t I?” he instantly says. “You were eating it night and day.”
You giggle as you remember it.
“You weren’t helping too,” you accuse him. “Whenever I’d ask for one, you’d make it, and you’re a good cooker.”
Jungkook was your personal chef. Whatever dish you’d ask for, he’d prepare it. His mousses were so delicious that you found yourself always craving them. The ones from the supermarket simply couldn’t compare to Jungkook’s.
“Well, for my defense, I couldn’t let a pregnant woman starve,” he puts his hands up.
It doesn’t feel like sixteen years happened since you last spoke. It’s great you found each other again. It wasn’t under great circumstances, but he’s here now.
“That was nice of you,” you gently say.
“Do you mind if I take a seat?” he points to the chair near your bed.
“No, no,” you shake your head.
Jungkook sits down before turning to you. He’s incredibly close now, allowing you to get a better look at him. He’s definitely gotten older, the wrinkles on his face can’t lie. The beginning of a beard is also easily noticeable.
“How bad does it hurt?” he seriously asks.
“Is it that obvious?” you say.
Jungkook nods. Honestly, this time around the painkillers aren’t helping much. Your entire body aches, you can’t even say which part hurts more.
“It’s pretty bad,” you answer. “Even with the painkillers now, it hurts like hell.”
“If you want, I can call a nurse,” he suggests.
“No, it’s fine,” you answer. “I’ll probably need to wait a bit more before it really takes effect.”
Jungkook doesn’t really listen to you since he leaves the room. You roll your eyes but with a big smile on your face. It’s incredible how he didn’t change after all these years. He used to never believe you when you were in pain.
A few seconds later, he comes back with a nurse. They are talking, and he’s explaining that I’m in extreme pain. He’s exaggerating a bit the reality. However, the nurse administers you a stronger painkiller and she also tells you that you shouldn’t hesitate to call her if you’re suffering. Then, she leaves. Slowly, you’re finally feeling the pain going away.
“You didn’t need to do that,” you tell him once the nurse leaves the room.
“Yes, I needed,” he instantly says. “There’s no way I was leaving you suffering unnecessarily.”
Jungkook seems definitely concerned.
“You don’t have to play the strong girl after this terrible car crash.”
He’s not wrong, but this is one of your flaws. You’ll only take a painkiller unless you don’t have much of a choice. Most of the time, you don’t take anything as you’re convinced you can handle anything.
You simply nod while Jungkook sits again on the chair. This time, you start talking about what has been going on in your lives for the past sixteen years.
Jungkook barely managed to finish his college years because he honestly had his mind somewhere else. After all, he had become a father, given his son up for adoption, and had his heart broken by the girl he always had a crush on. He didn’t mention the last part. He had tremendous regrets about how everything went down.
Right after college, he became a firefighter; a passion he randomly discovered the summer before. Saving lives, and helping others in need is what truly fulfills him. He considers his job as his own therapy even though it’s not always easy to deal with the horrific visions he might encounter.
Eight years ago, he met a French girl who had recently moved here. They fell in love and had a little boy, Noah. He’s four years old today; the same age as your youngest daughter. His eyes were filled with love when he started speaking about him. He said his boy is a mini version of his mother so he barely looks Korean. He even has blue eyes.
However, he’s no longer with her. They broke up three years ago and they aren’t really on good terms today. She already threatened to move back to France with Noah. They went through a tough legal battle for their son’s custody. It’s a shared one, and Jungkook’s parents are the intermediates between them. They pick up Noah at her place to bring him to Jungkook’s, and vice versa.  
It honestly broke your heart to hear about all that. It doesn’t seem to be an easy situation, and hearing his story makes you feel even more grateful for the good relationship you maintain with Minkyu.  
Then, you proceed to tell him about what your life has looked like for the past sixteen years.
“Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about our son,” you honestly say.
Four months ago, on the 2nd of June to be precise, your son turned sixteen. He’s the age you were when you gave birth to him. Since that day, you’ve definitely been wondering what he has become. Is he also about to become a father? You hope not.
“Well, I always think about him, but lately, it’s been more than usual,” you explain. “And I also imagine him with my other kids, and I wonder what bond they’d have.”
Jungkook only nods. “I get that,” those are his only words.
You refrain from continuing to talk about your son as it seems to affect him in some way. Maybe it’s simply too hard for him to think about that son you didn’t keep. You understand that so you prefer to stop talking. But his next words definitely catch you by surprise.
“I’ve found our son.”
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Seventeen years ago
As you step inside the pretty big basketball court, your eyes immediately look for a place to sit. There aren’t many people watching the team’s training. You place yourself in the very last row, almost as if you’re trying to hide yourself —or to hide your little secret.
Instinctively, your eyes look for Jungkook, the best basketball player. He’s the reason for your presence. Quickly, you take a look at your watch. The training should be over soon.
Your heart is beating crazily in your chest. What you have to tell him isn’t easy, especially since you don’t really know what to do. You’re actually even convinced that he’ll tell you to fuck off. Jungkook is known to be a jerk after all.
The man notices you while running in the court. His eyebrows frown, as you’re the last person he was expecting to see here. The past month has been hectic because things have been hot and cold with you. For a while already, he has been having a massive crush on you, but he’s never said anything because you’re in a relationship with Minho.
Even though he’s known to be an asshole, he never wanted to be the reason for your separation. However, last month, you had sex, and you’ve been feeling guilty since then. He can only understand you so he’s stayed away to give you the space you need. Nevertheless, you would sometimes interact and to his surprise, you’d be nice.
“Jungkook,” someone screams.
He grabs the ball that is thrown at him, and he’s focused again on the game. The end comes rapidly. Jungkook walks directly in your direction and you give him a little smile. As he gets closer, he instantly notices the sadness in your eyes. He sits down next to you with heavy breathing. His face is red, his hair is wet, and he’s all sweaty.
“Hi,” he says with a smile.
“Hi,” you reply.
Deep down, he’s kind of hoping you’re here to tell him that you’ve broken up with Minho. That’s all he’s ever wanted, especially since he slept with you.
“How are you?” he asks with evident concern.
“Not good,” you bite your lower lip, tears already forming in your eyes.
Jungkook directly pushes you into his arms to comfort you. Tears stream down your face while you hold him tight in your embrace. You hold him as if your world depends on it. Quickly, you start sobbing which breaks Jungkook’s heart. He’s definitely worried now, especially since he would have never imagined you coming to cry into his arms. He gently rubs your back in silence, letting you cry in peace.
This scene seems unreal to him.
After a little while, you take a step back to clean your face, dabbing at the tears that seem to not stop. You’re sure you look like a complete mess right now with your red eyes, face ravaged with tears, and trembling hands. Jungkook is staring at you, his gaze filled with heavy unspoken words.
“Sorry,” you mumble.
“Don’t worry,” he replies.
Jungkook tugs a strand of hair behind your ear.
“It’s not easy what I have to say,” you admit.
“It’s okay,” he gently says. “Take your time.”  
Jungkook has never been a jerk with you. He’s definitely a tease, and he’s been teasing you for months now. But he has never been mean or rude. Even though it’s been quite obvious to you that he was flirting with you all this time, he’s been nothing but respectful and never crossed the line.
But that was until you couldn’t resist him anymore.
Obviously, he’s a very handsome guy and it flattered you a lot that he was interested in you. However, you’re in a relationship with Minho. He’s been your boyfriend for a couple of months, and you adore him. But Jungkook has shaken everything up. It was obvious that one day you would surrender to temptation.
Jungkook is very good in bed, there’s no doubt about it. Your one-night stand was a memorable one, but you’ve felt nothing but guilt since then. And you also hate yourself. How could you have done that to Minho? He’s been nothing but an angel to you. You clearly don’t deserve him.
“I’m pregnant,” you admit.
Jungkook’s body freezes completely. Of all the things he was expecting to hear, this definitely wasn’t one of them. This is quite a bombshell! This will forever change your life, and he can only sympathize with you. Now, it leaves him wondering if he’s the father.
“Is it Minho’s?” he asks after a couple of seconds. “Or mine?”
“It’s yours,” you inform him.
Although this is a piece of very destabilizing news, he kind of feels proud to be the father of your child. It’s a weird feeling but the chances of him being the father are quite low since you’re in a relationship.
“You’re sure?” he asks.
“Of course, I am,” you almost sound offended. “I always use protection with Minho,” you whisper. “And if you remember correctly, we didn’t.”
“Right,” he nods.
You were so in the heat that a condom was the last thing you both thought of, but you used the pullout method. Looks like it wasn’t the brightest idea. It would have been best if you had been more careful. Now it’s too late to go back in time. Now, there’s a baby on the way.  
“I’m so scared to tell him,” you admit.
Tears start running down your face again.
“What will I become now?” you add. “My life is ruined.”
Jungkook cleans your face because he doesn’t like to see you in this state.
“Your life isn’t ruined, yn,” his thumb caresses your cheek.
“How can’t it be ruined?” you desperately say. “I’m pregnant; I'll give birth in less than nine months. My life will all be about that baby, I’ll have to drop school, and I’ll have to be a parent when I’m still a kid.”
The man in front of you can only understand your despair. His life will also drastically change from now on. Most probably, he’ll also need to give up on his dream college to work and provide for this baby.
“I’m here, and we will find a solution,” he whispers. “You’re not alone.”
You shake your head. There’s no way you’ll find a solution. It is simple: there’s a baby on the way, and outside that, there’s the whole situation where you cheated on your boyfriend.
“And Minho will be completely heartbroken,” you start crying even more. “Out of all people, he’s the one that doesn’t deserve that!”
Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. For sure, it isn’t great to cheat on your partner, but he knows he’s very much capable of doing it without having any remorse. He’s perfectly aware that he isn’t the greatest guy on earth when it comes to love. Even though he has a crush on you, he isn’t convinced he’d be the right one for you.
“My life is destroyed,” you repeat once more.
The basketball player pulls you once again in his embrace. His strong arms are comforting, and you realize now that you did great by coming to talk to him.
“We’ll find a solution,” he whispers in your ear.
Little did you know at that moment that he was right. A week later, you both agreed to give your son up for adoption. It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the best one. You could feel it inside your bones.
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From your room’s window, you admire the landscape that stretches before your eyes. The view isn’t the prettiest but at least, it’s something different than the tv. For the past three days, you could only be lying and sitting on your bed. It’s been horrible.
Jungkook has been coming every day to check up on you, and you’ve been talking a lot. It’s honestly so great to reunite again and to finally discover what he has become for the past years.
Your sister has been very curious about your reunion with the father of your firstborn. She also asked if Minkyu ever knew about him. You never hid from your ex-husband the existence of your first child, but you never told him who the father was. There was no need to do so.  
Your sister informed your parents who saved you, and they already saw him again. They really liked him when you were pregnant, so they were very happy to meet him again.
Jungkook didn’t tell them that he found your firstborn, and you’re grateful he didn’t because you don’t even know what to do. You asked him to give you some time to process the information. He’s been nothing but respectful.
This morning, you started walking for the first time since the surgery. It was beyond painful to even move one leg, but you bear with the pain of walking a little bit. Since the first day, you’ve been having physiotherapy sessions to help with the recovery. At first, the sessions only consisted of moving your legs while remaining in bed. Now, you get to walk a bit.
The physiotherapist handed you a cane today. It’s incredibly glamorous!
The good side is that you can now move from the bed to the chair more easily. You obviously still need a lot of help, but it gives you a bit more freedom.
Slowly, you try to stand up as you need to go to the bathroom. Right there, someone knocks at the door before entering. You expect to see the nurse since you call for her, but you’re surprised to see Jungkook. As he notices you struggling to get up, he rushes to help you out.
“Shouldn’t you be asking for the nurse to help you?” he asks.
“The nurse should be coming,” you reply.
“Is it okay if I place my hands on your waist?” you shake your head.
His hands instantly reach your waist, holding you firmly while you stand up with shaky legs. Feeling his presence around you reassures you, especially with his strong arms holding you. Your eyes quickly glance at him when you’re proudly standing up, and he looks incredibly hot with his red cheeks and messy hair.
At this precise moment, you feel like your teenage self, who was deeply attracted to him. The version of yourself who had deeply fallen in love with him when you were pregnant. That nostalgic feeling kind of warms your heart.
“I’m happy to see you finally out of that bed,” a smile spreads on his face when your eyes meet.
His stare is softer now, and it’s evident that he truly means what he just said.
“Me too,” you admit. “Couldn’t stand being on that bed anymore,” you laugh a little. “It’s been driving me crazy.”  
The nurse finally arrives, but she instantly leaves as you inform her that Jungkook is helping you.
At a very slow pace, you start walking in the bathroom’s direction. Jungkook stands next to you, his hands very close to you, ready to catch you any minute.
“I’ve been thinking,” you start saying as you put your right foot in front of the other.  
“About?” he asks.
It’s extremely frustrating to be walking as fast as a turtle, but there’s not much you can do right now.  You have brand-new knees, so you need to learn to walk with them, which will take some time. Plus, you also need to adjust to the pain these new knees cause.
“About our baby,” you answer.
Jungkook is taken a bit aback; he wasn’t expecting you to bring the topic up this early.
“About Sunny,” you add.
Sunny is the nickname you gave to your son. Neither you nor Jungkook wanted to give him a name, as you knew it’d be too heartbreaking to let him go. The nickname came naturally, and it gave your son a human dimension. When you were pregnant, it almost didn’t feel real that there was a human inside you since you couldn’t see him.
A little smile appears on his face as he remembers how you used to call your firstborn.
“I’d like to hear the story of how you found him.”
For the past sixteen years, you’ve dreamed of meeting your son one day, but it was just a dream. You never thought that it’d actually happen. Obviously, you could have done everything in your power to find him, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. However, you’re now curious to hear how Jungkook found him.
“Well, maybe you should go first to the bathroom because there’s a lot to be said,” you simply nod.
Jungkook is wearing his firefighter uniform, and it suits him incredibly well. It definitely shows off his toned chest which could satisfy any hungry eyes, like yours, for example. Any lady would like to be saved by him.
Once you arrive at the bathroom, he waits outside for you. It takes you a bit of time to pee, wash your hands, and leave the room. It’s painful too, and all you hope for is to go through this terrible phase as fast as possible.
The firefighter helps you to sit on the chair, and his kindness warms your heart. No doubt that he makes a great life savior.
“So, tell me about Sunny,” you say the second you’re comfortably sitting.
Jungkook takes another chair to face you, and he rests his arms on the little table placed in between you.
“I found him to same way I found you,” he looks down at his hands with a little smile on his face. “I was called for a fire in a building complex almost two years ago,” he starts explaining. “It was early in the morning, something like 6 am, and it was a pretty big fire. There was a fourteen-year-old lying on the floor, coughing like crazy so I naturally took him out of the building.”
Jungkook takes a little break, his eyes going from his hands to your eyes. His stare is intense; it unsettles you at first.
“Once outside, I almost felt like I was looking at you and myself at the same time,” his voice is soft. “And one of my colleagues even said that the kid oddly resembled me.”  
You can’t imagine how it must have felt for him.
“I instantly knew it was Sunny, but I kind of didn’t want to believe it,” his eyes clearly show how sad he feels. “If it wasn’t him, it would have broken me. I was already going through shit with my ex, so it wasn’t an easy time for me at that time.”
It’s visibly not easy for him to be talking about the situation with his ex-girlfriend.
“A couple of days later, he appeared at the station with his mother to thank me for saving him. In the daylight, it was more than obvious we shared DNA. Even a blind person could see the striking resemblance, but nobody said a word as if we were all scared to say the truth.”
“That must have been an unbelievable moment,” you whisper.
“It definitely was,” he chuckles. “But looking back now, it’s almost funny. I still remember how shocked his mother was when she first saw me. Sunny looked confused, but his mother’s reaction was extremely funny.”
It eases your heart to know that he looks back at that moment with delight.
“The day after, she came back but alone this time because she wanted to talk to me.”
His right hand grabs one of your fingers to play with it, causing your heart to hammer crazily in your chest. Jungkook is incredibly nervous to be talking about those moments, and he needs to look at something else than you.   
“As you can imagine, she asked me if I was his biological father, and all I could tell her was that I wasn’t sure. I then proceeded to tell her that I had a son at seventeen and that we gave him up for adoption. She naturally asked me when he was born, and then, there weren’t any doubts anymore. He was undoubtedly Sunny,” a smile full of pride appears on his face. “I’ve been in contact with him since then, but I don’t force anything. I’m just happy to see him.”
For a moment, you look at him with wonder. This man is evidently happy to have found his firstborn and to be able to be part of his life. Jungkook didn’t really want to give his son up for adoption, and you knew it. For a long time, you considered changing your mind because it was obvious that he wanted to be a father. Even though you were in love with him, adoption wasn’t about you or him. It was about Sunny.
That baby boy deserved to have a good life. Not a chaotic one where you regretted having him because he was the impersonation of your sin, or because he destroyed your life as you became a teen mom. You weren’t able to give him what he needed, and it was the best decision to have a family giving him what you couldn’t.
“What’s his name?” you ask.
Right now, you don’t know if you ever want to meet your son. It already brings you so much joy to know he found his biological father. But you’re also wondering what his name is. He has always been ‘Sunny’ to you.
“Taemoo,” he answers.
That’s a pretty name. His parents found the perfect name for that little boy.
“It’s beautiful,” you say.
“Not as pretty as Sunny,” he jokingly says.
Your fingers wrap around his right hand. This is a vulnerable moment for both of you. It brings you back to a past where you were confronted with a harsh reality. Nothing was easy back then. You were ripped between your hearts and minds. The heart wanted to keep Sunny, but the mind was being realistic.
The tears shed from the day you had to give him up still haunt you to this day. The heartbreak painted all over Jungkook’s face never leaves your mind. That day was the hardest day of your entire life; it ripped your heart open.
“Do you think there was a possibility we could have kept him?” you ask with a shaky voice.
His eyes look up at you.
“Maybe,” he frankly answers. “If we weren’t that young and stupid, we could have been the parents he needed.”
“I definitely was stupid,” you shake your head.
“You weren’t,” he says without any hesitation. “You made a mistake, but that doesn’t make you stupid.”
“Say that to Minho,” you retort.
Jungkook giggles.
“I would never approach him, even now,” that makes you smile. “My face still hurts from his punch.”
After the pregnancy announcement to your ex-boyfriend, it was pure chaos. Minho went completely out of control due to his heartbreak. Obviously, he insisted on knowing who the father was, but you never flinched. Nonetheless, he instantly understood that it was Jungkook. He had noticed how he was constantly teasing you.   
So, the first thing he did was punch Jungkook in the face. The basketball player didn’t even fight back as he believed he deserved it. After all, he slept with a taken woman with absolutely no regrets.
Minho got even angrier because he wanted the player to respond. He was devastated by what happened, and you could only understand him. The day after, he went to another high school, and you never heard from him anymore.
“To be honest, yn,” he starts saying. “Back then, there wasn’t a possibility to keep him. My soul wanted to keep him, but it was for selfish reasons. I wanted to be a father but couldn’t be one back then. There isn’t a day where I don’t feel grateful for the tough decision you took and stand for. It would have been a complete disaster.”
His hand squeezes yours, and just right there, with his words and touch, you just burst into tears. Those tears just came by total surprise, but deep down, those are the tears you’ve been holding back for sixteen years. Hearing about your son and remembering the harsh moments you faced when he was inside you caused reality to hit you right in the face.
Jungkook instantly pushes the table aside to hold you in his embrace. You place your face on the crook of his neck while your arms wrap around him. It feels like you’re brought back to seventeen years ago when you announced your pregnancy.
“I’m so sorry,” you whisper.
“Don’t be sorry,” he responds. “You’re going through a lot now.”
There are some words Jungkook is dying to tell you, but it’s definitely not the appropriate moment. This is already shaking you up, so no need to add an extra layer.
Taemoo would like to meet you; it’s been actually one of his dreams. Jungkook has already told him a million things about you, and your son has been beyond happy to hear all those things about you. He also got to see a picture of you when you were sixteen.
So Jungkook definitely wants to tell you that Taemoo would like to meet you, but he doesn’t know if this is the right time, especially since he doesn’t know how you’ll react.
“Sometimes I regret so much that I gave him up,” you honestly say. “Sometimes it’s just unbearable to remember the day I handed him over to the adoption center.”
His strong hands caress your back in an attempt to comfort you.
“It’s normal,” he whispers. “I do too,” he admits. “There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think about his birth and when we said our last goodbyes to him.”
You hold him tightly, his strong arms comforting you in an unbelievable way. You don’t want to let go of him. All you want is to cry in his arms until there aren’t any tears left.
“We did well, yn,” he tells you. “Sunny has been having a wonderful life. A life that we could have never given him,” he tries to reassure you. “His parents love him so much, allowed him to follow his dreams, and gave him everything he ever needed.”
As he got to meet Taemoo and his adoptive parents, he can reassure you now.
“They are adorable people,” he adds. “And they’ve been taking good care of our Sunny.”
Jungkook spent most of his life wondering if good people adopted his son, and he would have hated himself if it wasn’t the case. But when he got to meet Taemoo’s parents, he saw how great they were. And above anything, he saw how great they raised him. Taemoo is a wonderful kid with a wonderful soul.
Hearing those words definitely reassures you. It comforts you that Sunny has been doing well and landed in a loving family. At the end of the day, that’s all you ever wanted for your baby.
“Thanks,” you whisper.
The firefighter smiles while holding you a bit tighter. For a little while, you stay like this without saying a word. Reuniting with Jungkook is the best thing that happens in the midst of all the chaos your life has become. It also allows you to think about something else other than the excruciating pain you constantly feel.  
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A nurse enters your room while you’re reading one of the many books you’ve had left to read for the past years.
“There is a young man who says he’s your son. Should I let him in?”
You frown in confusion, momentarily wondering if your son has been mistaken for someone else. Nevertheless, you nod.
“Yes, please,” you say, placing your book aside and grabbing your cane to keep it close, just in case.
A soft knock sounds at the door before it opens, revealing a tall, nervous teenager. Your heart stops as you take in his face. It isn’t Jeong—but your oldest son.
As Jungkook described him a week ago, Taemoo definitely looks like the two of you. Nevertheless, his resemblance with his biological father is surprising. There is absolutely no doubt that he is Jungkook’s son. You understand now his mother’s reaction when she saw the firefighter.
“Hello,” he says, his voice tentative, holding a bouquet of bright sunflowers.
His hands tremble slightly as he steps inside. As you look a bit more at him, you can’t help but notice that he’s dressed thoughtfully, a gesture that tugs at your heart.  
This moment feels absolutely unreal. Merely days ago you found out about his name, and today he’s standing in front of you.
“I am Taemoo,” he continues.
As you look at this not-so-little man, you wonder what you could say to him, but you have no clue.
“Hello Taemoo,” you manage, your voice soft and unsteady. “Come in,” you add.
Taemoo—or Sunny as you’ve been affectingly calling him for the past sixteen years—comes closer with some hesitation. He’s clutching the flowers like a shield. Despite the nerves, there’s a quiet strength about him.
“I don’t have much to offer, but I have water, cookies, biscuits, and hot chocolate. Would you want something?” you propose.
“No, thanks,” he gives you a little smile.
“Please take a seat,” you offer while showing the chair next to yours.
For a little moment, he hesitates before sitting next to you. Your heart is hammering in your chest, ready to burst any second. The little man you gave birth to sixteen years ago is now standing before you. The same boy you gave up for adoption merely three days after his birth.
“Sorry, I didn’t properly introduce myself,” he mumbles.
As much as you want to tell him that he doesn’t need to, you need to hear him say it out loud.
“I am Taemoo, your son,” he says.
“Hello, Taemoo,” you gently say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.”
Tears start running down your face as you look at him. Sixteen years ago, you were holding him in your arms while your heart was completely ripped out. You were looking down at him knowing you’d have to say goodbye.
“I… I brought you these,” he shows the bouquet in his hands.
Your chest tightens as you take the flowers. “Thank you,” you say, your voice thick with emotion. “They’re beautiful—sunflowers are my favorite.”
“I know,” he murmurs, glancing at the floor. “Mr. Jeon told me.”
Your heart melts; this boy definitely seems to have a big heart. More silent tears run down your face while you look down again at the flowers.
“I have to ask,” you say after a little while. “How did you find me?”
You try to clean your face to compose yourself.
“I was in the hospital for a checkup, and I noticed Mr. Jeon at the front desk asking about you,” he explains. “I also know your name because he gave it to me when we met,” he adds.
You nod slowly, absorbing his words. It kind of warms your heart that Jungkook talked about you to Taemoo, but it aches your heart that this is how he got to meet you. You would have largely preferred you had organized this reunion.
“I’m glad you came.”
Your firstborn shifts nervously in his chair. “I wasn’t sure if I should,” he admits. “I didn’t know if you ever wanted to see me.”
It breaks your heart to hear those words as you picture him worried to come. There’s no doubt that it’s brave of him to come here. He could have stumbled upon a mother who didn’t want to see him; he was for sure aware of it.
“Taemoo,” you start saying. “You have every right to be here,” your voice slightly trembles. “I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering how it’d be to see you again.”
But you also wondered if it was a good idea to even look for him. You never wanted to shake his world up, especially after giving him up for adoption.
“I don’t want to bother you,” he says. “I just…” he’s quite hesitating to continue his sentence, and you nod, silently encouraging him to proceed with what he has in mind. “I just needed to see you.”
“You’re not bothering me at all,” you reassure him instantly.
For a moment, silence falls between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. You don’t add anything else as you let him take the lead. He’s the one who was brave enough to come so you want him to say everything his heart desires.
“I have questions,” he finally speaks. “About why. Why gave me up for adoption.”
You swallow hard, the lump in your throat growing.
“Jungkook never told you why?” you question.
“Yes, he did but he never spoke on your behalf. He only gave his reasons.”
This is the Jungkook that you know, and it is very fond of him.
“I couldn’t be a mother,” your voice trembles. “I desired nothing more than to be a mother for you, but I couldn’t give you what you needed. I wanted you to have a life I couldn’t give you at the time.”
It’s hard to tell him why you abandoned him. You’re not even sure he can understand your reasons.
“I was just a girl when I had you; I was your age. I was so scared, but I thought only about your future. You deserved to have a good life, to have parents who would give you everything you needed. In my mind, the best thing for you was to give you up for adoption.”
There’s also the part where you cheated on your boyfriend, but that’s something he doesn’t need to know.
His expression is unreadable, but you notice his hands unclenching. This might be a good sign.
“Did you regret it?” his voice is barely above a whisper.
“Every single day,” you confess. You’re unable to stop the tears now. “The day I handed you over was the hardest day of my life. I’ve spent the last sixteen years wondering what you’ve become, but I was too afraid to find you,” you feel extremely vulnerable in front of your son. “I thought you’d hate me.”
Taemoo looks away, staring at the floor while he processes your words. It isn’t easy for him to be here and to know the truth. Jungkook said the same time. He was too young to be a father; he was a total idiot back then, and he tried to give his son the best life he could.
“I don’t hate you,” he softly says, and relief washes over you. “I never hated you because I had a good life, but I’ve spent my whole life wondering if I would have had as well a good life with my biological parents.”
You’re convinced it wouldn’t have been the case.
“Thanks for answering my questions,” he gently says.
Another silence settles between you, but less tense this time.
“Mr. Jeon…” he hesitantly says. “He told me you like books,” he says, changing the subject.
At this stage, you’re wondering what Jungkook hasn’t said about you. First, there are the flowers; now, it’s the books.
“What are you reading?”
You’re grateful he swifts the topic of conversation. It was heavy to be talking to him about your painful past. Smiling, you reach for the book on the bed, and show it to Taemoo.  
“It’s one of the books I bought years ago but never read,” he takes the book to look at it.
“I like books too,” he admits while looking at the book. “Mostly history, and fantasy too.”
Your heart warms as he gives you a small glimpse into his life.
“I’d love to know what you’re reading,” you say. “Maybe you could recommend me something?” you’re hesitant.
“Sure,” he straightaway answers. “Maybe next time.”
“Next time,” you murmur while holding onto those words like a lifeline.
Taemoo gives you a small smile. Slowly, you reach for his hand, and for a brief moment, he freezes, then lets you hold it.
“Thanks, Taemoo,” your voice is filled with emotions.
He nods with still that small smile on his face. “If you don’t mind, we could exchange numbers?” he asks with hesitation.
“Yes, of course,” you smile at him, giving his hand a small squeeze.
Your phone is on the other side of the bed, so you slowly try to get up with your glamorous cane. Taemoo stands up without any second thoughts to help you out. He’s already as tall as Jungkook; you don’t doubt he’ll be taller than him. You walk very slowly, and your son doesn’t leave your side in case you need him.
Once you’ve reached your phone, you unlock it to give it to him. “You can type your number and save it,” you say.
Taemoo freezes when he notices your background. There are three kids, and he realizes how much they resemble him. Even though he looks a lot like Jungkook, he also takes a lot after you.
“Are those my siblings?” he asks when he glances at you.
“Yes,” you answer. “I had three other kids years after you.”
“They look adorable,” he tells you before proceeding to save his number on your phone.
He calls himself, so he can also have your number. After that, he helps you to sit again on the chair before leaving the room.  The room suddenly feels empty as Taemoo leaves you alone with the flowers and the overwhelming realization that your son—the boy you thought you’d lost forever—is finally back in your life.
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Today, Jungkook took a day off because he’s going out with you.
It’s not really a date —at least, that's what you’re both trying to convince yourselves. It’s been like a week that you’re out of the hospital, and he promised he’d take you on a car ride. Even though you walk better than you did some days ago, you’re still very slow. However, it doesn’t change the fact that you want to go out a bit.
For the past few days, you’ve both spent a lot of time together. It’s been great to be around you again. Things are very different now because you’re both grown-ups with kids, and there’s a lifetime that happened since you last saw each other. But he still feels the same around you. He still has that massive crush on you.
Honestly, he thought that with time, it’d fade away, but he was wrong. He understood it the second he pulled you out of that car. Being around you brings him peace. He feels like he doesn’t have to play a role; he simply can be himself.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“Somewhere,” he quickly eyes you before focusing on the road again.
Sixteen years ago, he knew he could never have you because of the circumstances. It was obvious to him that you loved him back, but it simply wasn’t possible. However, today, things are different. He still has a crush on you, and he will do everything in his power to not let you go.
“You’ll like it,” he smiles at you.
You look at him with suspicion.
“Let’s see,” you mumble.
Since you’ve been discharged from the hospital, Jungkook has been kind of scared to put you back in a car. So, for this day out, he asked you a million times if you’d be okay. You reassured him because it didn’t really frighten you.
Your baby daddy has been thoughtfully thinking about the place he could take you to. There are for sure hundreds of places, but he wants something special. However, above anything else, he wants to distract you.
He has noticed how you sometimes contort with pain. Definitely, you try to hide it but he can see it through your eyes. Most of the time, he feels sorry to see you in that state. It doesn’t look great at all. Nonetheless, he’s been trying to help.
Taemoo has also passed by once or twice at your parents’ place. Jungkook has never been present because he wants you two to get to know each other without him being in the middle. He definitely wishes the three of you to be reunited, but let’s take this step by step. It’s difficult for everyone.
“How has it been going to come back home?” he asks.
“Not easy…” you admit. “The kids struggle to not be staying at my place, even myself.”
Unfortunately, you can’t stay alone since anything can happen and you need help. So you’re staying at your parent’s place. You’re sleeping in your old bedroom that has since been transformed into a kid’s room for your babies. Your old bed is still there, but it doesn’t feel like your actual bed.
“They cry when they have to leave with their father. They really want to stay at my parents’ place with me, but it’s already very crowded.”
Your sister still lives with your parents, she’s only 22; she’s still very young. Well, she refuses to let you call her young because, at 22, you were getting married to Minkyu.
“They understand the situation, but it doesn’t change the fact that it’s hard for them.”
Jungkook nods as he can only imagine how this situation feels for everybody. Hopefully, things will slowly get better, and you’ll be able to recover quickly.
“I don’t like to complain, but it’s already physically hard, so seeing them like that makes it harder,” you admit.
It leaves you wondering if it will be like that until the end of your recovery.
“Then, it’s a good thing I take you out for a little bit today,” he smiles, trying to change the conversation.
“It is,” you smile at him.
It’s warming your heart that he has been very present for almost a month. There hasn’t been a day where he didn’t visit you, even if it was for five minutes. You feel lucky to have him during this tough time; he’s been quite a comforting and reassuring presence.
After maybe half an hour, you reach a parking lot from a park located on a high hill. It’s a park you and Jungkook terribly loved. You’d come here towards the end of the pregnancy when you couldn’t sleep.
“So, what do you think?”
“I like this place,” a bright smile grows on your face.
“I know,” he says.
This is definitely very thoughtful of him.
Jungkook leaves the car to help you get out of it. As you think you are going to walk for a bit, the man just holds you in his arms, one of his arms under your back, and the other under your legs. You instantly wrap your hands around his neck. Your faces are pretty close, and all thoughts are shut down by the irresistible desire to kiss him.
“Since there’s a lot to walk before reaching our spot, it’s better if I bring you there,” he confesses.
“Always trying to play the superhero,” you mumble.
“Eeh, I’m not,” he straight away answers. “I’m just trying to make your life easier.”
You roll your eyes while giggling.
“I can let you walk if you prefer but don’t blame it on me afterward,” he says while slowly pretending to put you down.
“Okay, okay,” you retreat in defeat. “Take me there.”
A smile grows on his face before he starts walking in the direction of your spot. It’s a bench where you have the perfect view of the city. At night, it’s wonderful as the buildings are lightening up. You spent many nights here sixteen years ago with your head on his shoulder, and your hand on your belly. Sunny would kick quite a lot during those moments, and Jungkook’s hand would rest on your bump to feel his son.
You were young and stupid, but definitely in love at that moment. A month before your son’s birth, you shared a passionate kiss on that bench. It was a highly desired one. You shared other kisses afterward but they never felt like that first one.
Surprisingly, when you reach the famous bench, nobody is sitting there. Usually, back in the day, that bench was always occupied during the day, only being empty at night.
“It almost feels like you booked the bench,” you chuckle.
“I could of,” he answers. “But I don’t have the means.”
Jungkook sits you down on the bench before taking a seat next to you. Gently, he grabs your legs to place them on top of his. He’s aware of how painful it can be for you to have your knees bent. At least like that, they are almost flat.
“Thanks for bringing me here,” your eyes look at the handsome firefighter instead of the pretty view.
The man only offers you a gentle smile, and the two of you now look at the city stretching before your eyes. It is very different than it was sixteen years ago. The city has grown bigger, some buildings were replaced by others or some even were destroyed. Everything is different while still being the same. Like how it feels to be around Jungkook.  
“Can I ask you a question?” Jungkook breaks the silence between you.
Your eyes look back at him, and his expression is unreadable.
“Sure,” you nod.
“Would you have given us a shot if you hadn’t gotten pregnant?” he asks with some sort of hesitation.
The questions catches you by surprise as it is the last thing you thought he’d ever ask.
“To be honest, I don’t know,” you say. “I was feeling so guilty about what I did to Minho, I felt stupid, and I was avoiding you.”
Well, he felt that.
“I avoided you because I really adored what happened with you,” you say. “You were really good in bed,” he smiles at your words. “But I looked at you differently because I got pregnant.”
Sixteen years ago, you never had a conversation about your feelings for him. But it definitely looks like you’re having it now.
“You were by my side every second. You’d cook whatever I was craving, you’d be at every appointment, you’d hold me when I cried, you’d do anything when I was in pain, and you’d bring me here when I couldn’t sleep.”
Your heart is beating fast as you’re about to pronounce the next words.
“I fell in love with that Jungkook,” the firefighter’s heart is also hammering in his chest. “Not with the jerk who’d flirt with me.”
His cheeks are getting red with shyness. After all these years, and even though he knew his feelings were reciprocated, he feels like a teenager falling in love for the first time.
“We were two when we conceived Sunny, so I naturally had to get my shit together and be by your side and help you as much as I could,” he says. “I was for sure a jerk back then, but I’d always assume the consequences of my actions.”
His heart is hammering faster as he takes his courage to speak out loud about how he has been feeling about you. 
“I also had a crush on you so I also saw that as a way to spend more time with you,” now you’re the one blushing.
Anyone observing this scene from outside would instantly get how smitten you are. The person would even bet that you’re together.
“Do you still have a crush on me?” you question.
You’re way too curious, but you definitely want to know because damn, you’d kiss that man right now.
Jungkook gets closer to your face, his hands moving to your thighs to caress them. Not in a sensual way.
“What would happen if I say yes?” he whispers when his face is extremely close to yours.
“You’ll have to find out,” you teasingly say.
His eyes move from your eyes to your lips as he desires nothing but the same as you. To kiss you.    
“Yes,” he says without any hesitation. “I still have a crush on you.”
You bite your lower lip before breaking the small space between you to fervently kiss him. Having his lips finally against yours feels like a relief, almost as if you’ve been waiting sixteen years to feel them again.
The kiss is shy at first as if you’re both scared but it slowly turns into a desperate and fervent one. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck while the other remains on your thigh. Your hands cup his face while you intensely kiss each other. 
This feels like heaven for you two. You open your mouth, giving him free access to it. His tongue doesn’t hesitate one second to find yours. Gently, your tongues meet and it feels wonderful. Inside of your lower belly, thousands of butterflies are freed. Never have you thought that this would happen again although you’ve thought about it since reuniting with him.
When you’re both out of breath, you break the kiss and rest your forehead against his. For a moment, you simply look at each other while you catch your breath. Jungkook’s fingers softly caress your face, and you close your eyes to savor this moment. 
“I’ve dreamed of this since I found you again,” he admits.
Jungkook presses once more his mouth against yours. A soft moan leaves his mouth when your lips meet. He wants to keep doing this forever. He teasingly bites your lower lip which causes a moan to escape your mouth. A devious smirk appears on his face but he gets back to kissing you fervently.
Before the kiss takes a very dirty turn, you break it. “It isn’t the appropriate place for that,” you whisper.
He giggles as he realizes he was ready to take it to the next level in a public place. The firefighter presses a gentle kiss on your lips before you resume to admire the view.
After a couple of hours, he takes you back to your parents’ house. Your mind is filled with euphoria from the kisses you shared earlier, and you can’t help but smile every time you think about it. Kissing Jungkook still feels the same. It still tastes like heaven.  
When you’re home, you notice nobody’s here which is a bit weird, especially since you warned your parents you’ll take a shower today. Maybe they went for a walk since you were with Jungkook.
“Would you mind staying a bit?” you ask. “I need to take a shower, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable alone.”
“Yeah, no problem,” he says.
Jungkook assists you until you reach the bathroom and grabs underwear, a bra, pants, and a shirt from your bedroom.
“You’re sure you’ll be able to be by yourself?” he asks with concern.
“I have a stool and everything I need has been placed at the stool level,” you explain. “So don’t worry.”
Jungkook can’t help but feel worried. Even if it’d be weird to be in the bathroom with you, he’d feel reassured.
“If I need anything, I’ll call you,” you add.
There’s not much he can do, except to leave you alone.
“Okay,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips before leaving.
You sit on the stool to get undressed. To remove your shirt and bra, it’s quite easy, but to take off your pants and panties, it’s a whole other story. Your mother has been helping you a lot with the shower part, and you’ve been feeling like a five-year-old who can’t do much by herself.
The last two showers, you’ve been able to do everything by yourself, and you’ve been very proud of yourself. However, right now, you’re struggling a lot. It’s frustrating you beyond comprehension, but you remind yourself that you need to calm down otherwise, it’ll only be worse.
After a little while, you simply resign and call for Jungkook. He arrives in a rush, and his heart breaks a little when he sees your defeated face.
“Struggling?” he asks when he notices your pants stuck at your knees level.
“I can’t push them further than that,” you pout.
He walks in your direction, kneeling before you. “Let me help you.”
His hands carefully push your pants down and throw them onto the floor. Then, before even touching your panties, his eyes look up at you, asking for your consent. Even though you called him for help, he wouldn’t want to cross any line. Consent is important, after all.
You simply nod, you don’t have much of a choice here. His fingers brush against the skin of your hips, causing goosebumps all over your body. Last time he touched you there was the day you conceived Taemoo, sixteen years ago. Your eyes are frozen on him.
Jungkook grabs the hem of your panties to push them down your legs, his fingers brushing against your hot skin. You’re now fully naked in front of him, and it feels incredibly weird although he already saw you like this. But at the same time, it feels reassuring to have him here with you.
“Do you want me to help you wash? Or would you be fine now?” he asks while standing up.
“Help me please,” you almost beg. “Not sure I’ll be able to wash if I can’t even remove my clothes,” you laugh a bit.
You try not to cry at this whole situation. It’s better to laugh at it than cry.
“Okay,” he turns the water on. “You’re going to wash your hair?”
“No, no,” you answer. “Just my body.”
The man in front of you nods and hands you the showerhead.
“Let me know when it is too hot,” he tells you.
You’re holding the showerhead with one hand while the other is below to check the water temperature. In the meantime, Jungkook removes his socks in order for him to get inside the shower.
Once done, his eyes look at you with admiration. For almost a month, you’ve been going through hell with everything that has been going on. You’ve been handling things like a champion even though it’s sometimes very clear you’re suffering terribly. He has nothing but admiration for you.
His heart swells with happiness because, in the midst of all that, you chose to let him be by your side. He even got to kiss you.
“It’s good now,” you tell him with a smile.  
Jungkook grabs the showerhead to run it over your body. He carefully executes the task while being extremely focused on not forgetting any body parts of yours.
“With my mum, we always do the intimate parts at the end,” you inform him.
“No problem,” he answers.
Once your body has been fully covered in water, he seizes the shower gel.
“Do you want to do it?” he asks with the gel in his hands.
Usually, with your mum, you do it, but with Jungkook, you’ll gladly let him do it. You really want to feel his fingers touch your body. 
“Could you please do it?” he nods.
Jungkook understands that you simply want to feel his touch, and he won’t complain as he desires nothing but to touch your soft skin.
There is nothing sexual about this moment. The two of you would even say that it’s a very intimate moment, even more intimate than sex.
The man covers your entire body with soap before holding back the showerhead to clean you. Once done, you stand up so you can clean your last body parts, which are your vagina and ass. This time around, you want to do it yourself as you feel like it could take a naughty turn if he touches you down there.
Jungkook leaves the shower. “Where are the towels?”
“In the storage cabinet below the sink,” you inform him.
Seconds later, when you cut the water, he wraps you in the towel before you sit back again on the stool.
“Thanks for your help,” you say.
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As you slowly wake up, you feel a warm presence behind you which is something not normal. Since you’ve been back from the hospital, you’ve been sleeping alone in your old bed.
Then, you start remembering what happened yesterday. After the shower, your parents arrived and were very delighted to see Jungkook. A bit later, your sister came from work. Your parents naturally invited him to stay for dinner.
Once dinner was over, you practically begged him to stay the night. You then went to your room, and watched “Enola Holmes 2”, but you instantly fell asleep with your body pressed against his, your head against his chest.  His heartbeat was the little melody that rocked you to sleep.
Your eyes adjust to the light in which the room is immersed. You turn around to see Jungkook sleeping like a baby, and he looks absolutely adorable.
In this quite big bed, it seems like he’s so far away from you as he isn’t close to you. There’s a distance between the two of you that makes you smile; you know he purposely put that distance. He respects you way too much, and he wouldn’t do anything to make you feel uncomfortable. 
You turn again before closing your eyes to remember what happened yesterday. It was an intense day, but intense in a good way. As you remember the kisses you shared, you run your fingers over your lips. He still kisses like a god.  
Yesterday, you felt so much alive. You didn’t feel that way for already a couple of years. Hopefully, this is a feeling that’ll stay longer. You don’t want it to fade away so soon.   
Suddenly, the bed moves behind you. A big hand carefully wraps around your waist while a mouth presses a gentle kiss on your shoulder, and a body snuggles up against yours. Instantly, your eyes close to savor this precise moment. 
Both of you snuggle together for a little while, just enjoying the closeness of your bodies together. Waking up with someone and with his arms wrapped around you is something you haven’t experienced in a while. The last time it happened was when you were still married to Minkyu.
“Good morning, sunshine,” he whispers with his hoarse morning voice before pressing a sweet kiss on your neck. 
Goosebumps rise all over your skin because this is a beautiful way to wake up. Damn, you wouldn’t mind waking up every day to this.
Jungkook feels your shivers beneath his hand, a smirk growing on his face. It feels like a victory to have already made you feel this good so early in the morning.  
“Morning, Jungkook,” you whisper. 
Naturally, your back arches, pushing your ass back to meet his crotch which makes him groan against your skin. Your cheeks instantly turn red and you push your ass away from his intimate parts.
“Sorry,” you say.
Jungkook also feels a bit embarrassed that his little friend down there is already all turned on. But what can he say, he spent the night with the girl of his dreams.
“I’m the one who’s sorry,” he whispers. “I’m already all turned on.”
Since you’re still flustered, you don’t dare to turn to look at him. He’s also grateful for that; he would hide his face in the pillow if you ever look at him.
“It’s not a bad thing,” you say. “I mean, it’s normal.”
“I know, but it’s awkward for both of us,” he answers.
For a moment, you don’t say anything as you try to find your words.
“I’m actually flattered,” you break the silence. “Wasn’t expecting to turn someone on this early in the morning.”
Jungkook gets closer to you once more, his hard member pressing against your ass through his underwear. That feeling alone causes your walls to clench around emptiness. You also bite your lower lip to repress any moan that might escape your mouth. You’re at your parents’ house, anyone could hear you.
His arms wrap around your waist once more before he presses another kiss on your neck. A very soft moan manages to escape, causing Jungkook to feel some kind of pride. His fingers slip beneath your shirt to caress every part of your body with his cold fingers.
Your back arches at the sensation while one of your hands goes to his head, your fingers running through his hair. Your other hand goes to your mouth to muffle the sounds of your moans. You don’t know exactly what time it is, so you’re not sure if there’s somebody at the house. To be safe, it’s better not to moan like a mess.
Then, his fingers move down on your body, pushing your pajamas’ pants and underwear together. The cold air that brushes against your core makes you grow wetter. Thank god you have your hand in your mouth because there’s no doubt this would have made you moan.
His fingers slowly get closer and closer to your bundle of nerves. By the time his fingers reach your clit, you’re already completely soaked. 
“Someone else is already all turned on,” he whispers in your ear before licking and nibbling it. “Tell me what you want, sunshine.” 
The simple fact that he asks what you want is a big turn-on. Men tend to forget that during an intimate moment, it isn’t all about themselves and their pleasure. It’s about two people trying to give and have pleasure.
Your back arches a bit more, rubbing your ass more against his semi-hard cock. A deep growl echoes against your ear. Your mind is going completely crazy. There’s one thing you desperately crave right now: him inside you.
“You,” is actually the first word that crosses your mind. “You inside me with your hand on my throat,” you clarify. 
Well, the only time you had sex with Jungkook, it was pretty wild. You both discovered how much you adored having his fingers tightly around your neck. It gave a totally other dimension to the sex. It was even more intense, and you loved it.
“You’re sure?” he still asks to be sure.
He doesn’t want to cause any more pain. 
“Absolutely,” you reassure him.
Your eyes close when his free hand finds its way to your neck, his wonderful and delicate tattooed fingers wrapping around your throat. This feels wonderful, and it gets you wetter.
As you feel a moan ready to leave your mouth, you sink your teeth into your lower lip. There’s no way you’re going to muffle all your moans. This is already too wild for you, and you know it’s going to get even wilder.
“I’d give anything to see the way you look with my hand around that pretty neck of yours, sunshine” he whispers in the shell of your ear, his deep voice emphasizing the word ‘sunshine’. 
With your eyes closed, you can perfectly picture the way his hand fits on you. Jungkook can imagine it too, causing chills to run through his skin. 
While his hand caresses your neck, the other one does wonders to your clit. The torture is exquisite, nothing feels as good as having his hands on you. His hand works harder on your core to make you wetter. The man is already desperate to give you what you want. Him inside you. 
Once he feels you’re wet enough, his fingers leave your pussy alone to pull your leg up a bit, this way will be easier for him to push his cock inside you. Quite rapidly, he takes off his underwear.
“At any time, let me know if I hurt you, okay?” he whispers with evident concern.
“Don’t worry, Kook,” you say.  
His lips pepper the back of your neck with kisses. Your hand goes behind to stroke his cock a bit before rubbing it for a little while against your soaked core. 
“Shit, yn,” he groans against your skin. 
You bite your lower lip because, damn, it’s fucking hot to wake up to this.
As you feel him growing harder in your hand, you decide to push his length into your heated core. Your pussy sucks him all in, his head stretching you open as he goes further inside you.
“You always feel amazing,” he hisses once he bottoms up.
Small and barely audible moans and whimpers leave the two of you as you both enjoy feeling your bodies connected. Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, giving your body time to adjust to him.
It’s been a while since you last had sex together, and Jungkook’s cock tends to be quite big. That was for sure something you’d never forget. How could you? If you compare to all the dicks you experience, he’d be the biggest.
But it isn’t the kind of big that makes it painful. It’s actually the opposite. You’d say that his dick is simply perfect.
“Move, Kook,” you give him a small slap on his ass to urge him. 
You need him, in ways you can’t even express. 
The man doesn’t need to be told twice before he starts thrusting into you very slowly and deeply with his hand still around your throat. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as the creaky bed quickly fills the room. 
Jungkook takes all his time, he isn’t rushing anything because damn, he wants you both to enjoy this moment. His lips stay on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses to avoid moaning. His other hand holds your leg up while he rolls his hips in a way that you absolutely adore. 
The hand on your neck and his dick deep inside you are the perfect combos to make you come in a snap. None of you speak, only enjoying this torrid moment.
The man behind you feels that he’s slowly losing you, that you’re losing yourself further in the pleasure that only he can give you. So, he lightly tightens his hand around your throat to help you reach your orgasm faster. 
“Fuck,” you swear as his fingers wrap tighter around your neck. 
This is more than bliss for you, you could just come right now because of his hand but you don’t want to let go of your orgasm. You want to let it grow immensely until it becomes too overwhelming for you. You want this orgasm to be like an explosion of fireworks inside you. 
“You take me so well,” he whispers before bringing your face closer to his to press his lips against yours. Your walls clench around him causing his cock to twitch inside you. A guttural groan leaves his pretty lips, a groan that you happily swallow.  
Wanting to bring him closer to the edge, you start moving your hips in circles while he keeps thrusting into you at a very slow and torturous pace. His lips leave yours, his eyes close shut, and barely audible moans keep flooding out of his mouth.    
“Keep doing that, yn,” he pants.   
His cock goes deeper inside you, filling you up fully and hitting all the right spots which causes the pleasure to grow stronger within you. Your moans are harder to suppress, it feels good to be railed by Jungkook this early in the morning. Morning sex is honestly one of the best types of sex.
He groans deeply against your ear, your orgasm building stronger and stronger. You know that in a matter of seconds, you’ll be coming undone, and Jungkook senses it too. Your hips never stop moving in tandem with his but as you get closer to your high, your walls squeeze him harder. 
As he gets lost in the euphoria of the moment, he starts thrusting more harshly. Both of you are chasing your own orgasm while bringing the other closer to the edge. It doesn’t take you too much time to be fiercely hit by that overwhelming wave of pleasure, making you come undone around his massive cock. 
“Jungkook, fuck!” you cry with ecstasy, your hips stopping completely to move but the man behind you never stops moving. 
“Can I come inside?” you simply nod, barely able to make a proper sentence in the middle of this euphoric state.   
Both his hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly as he releases his thick load inside you. A lewd moan escapes your mouth when he pumps his hot cum inside you, pushing it as deep as possible inside you. 
For a little while, both of you stay in this position, his hands still holding you tight against him while his cock remains inside you. None of you wants to break this moment but you have to since you’ll need to leave the bed.  
Very slowly, you remove yourself from his cock to stand up from the bed. “Can I ask you to help me put on my underwear and pants?” you ask.
Without hesitation, Jungkook stands up while grabbing your clothes. As yesterday, he kneels before you to dress you. A smile spreads across your face as you look down at him. This man is, without any doubt, the kind of man you want to have in your life. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart with you.
“Thanks a lot, Jk,” you say once fully dressed.
The man carefully spreads your legs to situate himself between them.
“No problem, sunshine,” he presses a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Also, I’d like to mention that I take the pill,” you mention with a silly smile on your face. “So we won’t have any other surprise kid.”
Jungkook smiles and kisses you once more.
“I’m glad to know that,” he whispers against your lips.
Still fully naked, he stands up to assist you to do the same. Once you’re straightened up, you take the glamorous cane. At the same time, Jungkook puts his clothes back on because there’s no way he’s going to leave this bedroom naked. It’d be way too embarrassing.
This impressive man helps you go to the bathroom and, then, to the kitchen. At first, it seems like there’s only the two of you since you don’t hear any noise. However, to your surprise, when you reach the kitchen, you find your sister sitting at the table and eating breakfast.
“Good morning,” you say with evident joy.
“Only good morning to you,” she snaps back.
You frown with confusion. Your sister looks you dead in the eyes, totally ignoring Jungkook’s presence in the same room.
“I really didn’t need to know how you two conceived your first kid,” she explains.
Both you and Jungkook open your eyes wide; you weren’t expecting that at all. But there were chances that someone would have heard you. It’s definitely weird your sister was the one. You wouldn’t want to hear her having sex with someone.
“Hopefully, this time around, there won’t be any other kid,” Jungkook manages to say.  
Your sister laughs a bit. “I like this one,” she takes a sip of coffee. “He seems better than the other ones, and he’s also a lot hotter than them.”
Jungkook starts laughing as he helps you to take a seat.
“She’s funny,” he whispers to your ear.
“Don’t be silly,” you tell your sister. “And please, go find a guy so you don’t drool over mine.”
Although you haven’t defined your relationship for now, he’s flattered you consider him as ‘your guy’.
“How can I compete with a firefighter?” she teases. “Anyone will feel boring next to Jungkook,” she adds.
“If you want, I can introduce you to my colleagues,” he suggests.
“Don’t encourage her in her nonsense,” you tell him.
“Yes, please,” she says with enthusiasm.
You roll your eyes. She’s unbelievable and definitely very crazy, but that’s maybe why you love her so damn much.  
After that, together with Jungkook, you prepare breakfast while speaking with your sister. She leaves a couple of minutes later because she needs to meet with her best friend downtown. And right after her, Jungkook leaves you alone in your parents’ house which breaks your heart. However, you don’t stay very long by yourself as your kids come to visit you with their father.
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Three weeks later
You and Jungkook are sitting at a table in a fancy restaurant. Your heart is beating fast with nervousness.
“Everything is going to be fine,” he tries to reassure you while resting his hand on top of yours.
“Don’t know,” you mumble.
Today, you’ve organized a dinner with Jungkook and Taemoo; your first time as a family. It’s weird to even think about it, but Taemoo really wanted to spend some time with you, together. Since he proposed this, you’ve been feeling very nervous. You’re a bit scared of how things will go when you’re finally the three of you together.
“There’s no reason for this to not go well,” he answers.
Before you can even answer, Taemoo joins you with a bright smile on his face. Like the first time you met him, he’s very well dressed.
“Hello,” he says. “I brought you these,” he hands you a tiny bouquet composed of three sunflowers. “It’s one sunflower for each of us.”
Your heart has completely melted now. This kid is so damn thoughtful, just like his biological father. His parents definitely raised him well, and it only reassures you that the decision you made sixteen years ago was the right one.
“Hello, Taemoo,” you say while standing up to hold your son in your arms. “Thanks a lot.”
Your firstborn wraps his arms around yours. This is a heartfelt moment; being able to hug him fills your heart with so much love. It feels like holding Jiwoo even though you didn’t raise Taemoo. Unfortunately, you can’t hold him for a long moment due to your wonderful knees. So he then greets Jungkook before taking a seat in the empty chair.
“Thanks for accepting this,” those are his first words.
Although he seems very happy and relaxed, you notice he’s a bit stressed.
“After seeing you separately, I really wanted to spend a bit of time with the two of you,” he starts saying. “Not sure how this will evolve in the future, but I’d like to sometimes organize this kind of diner.”
For the past few weeks, your life has drastically changed, and honestly, sometimes, you feel like it’s too much. However, having Jungkook and Sunny back in your life is what you consider to be a blessing. In all this chaos, you found two deeply important people that you left sixteen years ago.
The sixteen-year-old version of you was devasted to part ways from them two, thinking that you’ll never see them again. If she could see this today, the heartbreak would have been less painful. But that version of you is beyond happy today to see the three of you sitting at the same table.
This car accident destroyed your knees and stomach, but it has brought you Jungkook and Sunny. All of this would not be happening without this accident.
You also can’t wait to see your three other little munchkins with the man you love and their older sibling. Undoubtedly, that day will be the most wonderful day of your life. Now, you feel like you can finally truly be happy. You now have all the people you need to be happy.    
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snoopyracing · 29 days ago
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it’ll pass // mv33
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pairing: max verstappen X engineer!reader
word count: 18.5k
warnings: cursing and alcohol use. this is about the 2024 season and while i tried to make things as accurate as possible some things are tweaked for the storyline. so just read for the vibes and not biblically accurate season info :)
includes: right person wrong time, childhood friends, hidden relationship, a little friends to lovers, and ANGST
summary: when you think you've finally gotten everything you want in life... it goes and shows you just how unfair it can be.
playlist for the fic: apple music | spotify
masterlist
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Not many children are certain on what they want to be when they grow up, especially at age nine, but you were an exception. Sure – millions of children say they are going to be a veterinarian or a doctor when they grow up, but how many of them actually end up being that? Life happens, plans change, and reality sets in for the majority of Earth’s population. Although you never planned on any of that happening to you. There was never a doubt in your mind that you were going to be anything other than a race car driver, but even the most determined and strong willed people get dealt a shit hand at some point in their life.  
You’d been surrounded by racing your whole life – a perk of your Dad being a successful rally car driver. The sound of the engines and the smell of the exhaust were ingrained into your brain by age five. You were a wild child, a thrill seeker and definitely your Father’s child according to your Mother, but you knew even if your Dad wasn’t a racer that you would have still found yourself drawn to racing one way or another. For a good chunk of your early childhood you claimed to want to be a rally driver like your Dad, much to your Mom’s dismay, but that all changed when you attended your first Formula 1 race.
F1 wasn’t a foreign concept to you, your family watched and attended lots of different kinds of racing, but you’d never been to an actual Formula 1 race before. The atmosphere was completely different to anything you’d ever experienced and watching it on TV was nothing compared to seeing it in real life. You were enthralled by the sounds and hustle and bustle of everything. Not to mention how fast the cars actually were. The little adrenaline junkie in you was on cloud nine and by the time the checkered flag was waved and the car crossed the finish line you knew you wanted to be the one driving it. 
Luckily being brought up in a motosports family meant you somewhat had an upper hand. You were blessed to have the finances to start karting and not to mention a very long list of connections. And sure having all these things help you, but you’ve still got to have the talent. Which in your case was never an issue. You were a menace on the track, a force not to be reckoned with, and your Dad taught you not to take any shit from any of the insecure little boys. Trophies and medals lined your walls and there was never a doubt in your mind that you couldn’t make it to the top, that was until you got older. 
As your brain developed more so did your understanding that a lot of people and your competitors didn’t think women belonged in racing. Sure when you were younger some of the boys teased you, but it was never anything that bothered you much. It wasn’t until you were around fifteen and looking to move over to single seater racing that you faced your first real case of self doubt. Even with you being one of the best drivers in your division you still had to work ten times harder than the worst male driver to prove to everyone that you were worthy to be there. It was exhausting to constantly be ridiculed, to hear people say you only had gotten this far because of who your Dad was. It amazed you how you had won all these championships and races and people still didn’t think you had the raw talent that you so clearly possessed. 
Even with spells of self doubt and days where it felt like the world was against you, you’d somehow made it to Formula 2. That Formula 1 seat that you’d dreamt about since a child was almost in your grasp and you were more determined now than ever to prove that you were one of the 20 best drivers in the world. You knew that this season was your make or break, if you didn’t put in 110% then what were you even doing here? You needed to make a statement, but even the most astronomical statement couldn’t help the fact that your fate was decided when you were born a female. 
It didn’t matter that you had won basically every championship in the previous feeder series or that you were clearly on your way to win the F2 championship. It didn’t matter if people claimed that you were the future of Formula 1 or if Susie Wolff was your mentor. It didn’t matter that you had meetings with just about every F1 team about the possibility of a seat next year or that you had a well known last name. None of it mattered because at the end of the day no one was actually ready to sign a woman as a driver. Sure, they’d string you along and give you the false hope of somewhat talking about a contract and then go and sign a driver who you could lap with your eyes closed. Sometimes you just thought they liked the publicity that the team got from the news of you being in talks with them and couldn’t care less about actually giving you the time of day.
Finally accepting that you weren’t going to get a seat in Formula 1 was a devastating out of body experience. You were sat in an uncomfortable chair in between Susie and your Dad as they tried to bargain you a seat at Williams. Although it wasn’t your first choice, you had thought and prayed that with a female CEO and Susie having ties there that Williams would be your saving grace. It was your last option at this point and as you sat there their voices became background noise and the longer you studied Claire’s body language you knew this was the end. You had zoned out, your fingers bloody from subconsciously picking at the skin around your nails as your mind wandered to a place that wasn’t this meeting. 
Ever so often you’d hear a statement from one of them and it only made you more catatonic. 
“She’s in a league of her own, Claire. I mean she’s a million times better than I ever was as a driver.” 
“Her stats alone should tell you everything you need to know. She’s more qualified than the drivers you’ve got right now. I can tell you that.” 
It’s what comes out of Claire’s mouth next that brings you back to reality and what also seals your fate. “We could offer you being a development driver like Susie was or possibly a reserve.” 
Your eyes focus on her as you sit up in your chair. “I don’t want to be a development driver or a reserve driver. I want to be in the car every race weekend. I want to be an actual driver and I know I’m more than qualified to be one.” 
You can feel your Dad and Susie’s eyes on you, surprised at your sudden brashness, yet they didn’t reprimand you. Both of them knew you deserved better than what you were getting dealt. You watch as Claire clasps her hands together and a tight lipped expression forms across her face. “I hate to say this, but we just can’t afford to take the risk.” 
“The risk?” You question, fully knowing what that risk is. 
She clears her throat, her eyes darting from Susie to your Dad and then finally landing back on you. “Yes you have talent, but we can’t take the risk as a team right now to sign a female driver. We are barely holding on the way it is and signing a female– it just– we can’t be the team to experiment with that right now, no matter how good you are. I’m sorry.” 
“So a woman can run a racing team, but just can’t drive for one? Got it.” You’re trying to be professional, but you’d already heard that sorry excuse so many times before and your dreams were literally getting crushed right in front of you, so who can blame you for being a little shitty.
“It’s not just me making this decision Y/N. There’s a million other factors and people that go into this decision. If it could be different I promise it would be.” The strained look on Claire’s face does nothing to ease the ache in your chest, if anything it makes it worse
There’s an awkward silence that fills the room and you want nothing more than to be out of this suffocating room. Your emotions are starting to bubble over and the last thing you want is for someone to spot you looking less than thrilled. In society a man is allowed to react and a woman can only overreact. There’s been countless times where your quote on quote emotions after a difficult race are used against you in an attempt to prove you shouldn’t be racing. 
The wooden legs of your chair screech across the floor as you get up and even though you don’t want to, you reach your hand out towards Claire. “Thank you for your time, it was nice talking with you.” 
“My offer still stands. I think it would be wise to think it over.” Her grip on your hand is firm as she speaks, but it does nothing to change your mind. 
You give her one last thank you before swiftly exiting the room and making your way out of the building. It’s not until you’re in the safety of the blacked out SUV that you finally let yourself fully feel your emotions. And once the first tear falls there’s no stopping the ones that come after. You’re angry that even with the talent you so clearly possess, no one will give you a chance. That you’d worked this hard, gave up your childhood and the possibility of having a normal one to do this. Spent hours, days, months training and being away from home just to get to this spot in your life. Your one dream in life was almost in your grasp, your fingertips could brush against it, that’s how close it was. Yet on a sunny afternoon on a random Monday it was ripped away from you.   
Sobs echo through the empty car and you’d never felt more hopeless than you do right now. You spot your Dad talking with Susie outside the building and a short minute later he’s walking towards the car. You try to pull yourself together, you don’t want your Dad to see you like this, but when he gets into the driver's seat you lose it all over again. You somehow feel like you’ve let your Dad down, he’s been your biggest supporter during this whole journey and you not getting a seat felt like the equivalent of you being the worst child ever.
Your Dad couldn’t be more proud of you though, he’d never seen someone work so hard to accomplish their dreams and he was always going to be in your corner no matter what happened. His heart breaks when he gets into the car and sees you so upset and defeated, he’s half tempted to march back in there and demand that they sign you. But right now he knows you need him more than anything. He reaches over the center console and pulls you into him the best he can. His little girl deserved so much better than what you had been dealt and he only wished he could take that hurt you were feeling right now away from you. 
“Darling I know this hurts right now. If I could, I’d make a whole racing team from scratch just so you could fulfill your dreams, but this isn’t the end for you. Maybe you could try different kinds of racing? Indycar? Endurance? Maybe follow in your old man's footsteps?” His hand gently rubs against your arm as you sniffle into his chest. “You never know, maybe if you take the reserve spot you could get a seat the following year.” 
You lift your head up, your eyes bloodshot as you make eye contact with him. “Dad, we both know that's not true. They’d just string me along.” You lean back into the leather seat as you close your eyes, already feeling a headache coming on. “I know life isn’t fair, but this is some cruel level of unfairness. I wish I had been born a boy because I know I would not be in this situation right now if I was.”
“You’re correct, if you were a boy you wouldn’t be in this situation right now. But that is only because you wouldn’t be half the racer you are as a guy. You’ve gotten this far and you’ve got the talent you do because of who you are and that includes being a woman. I like to take credit for your skills, but honey all your will power and strength and smarts and hell just about everything else you get from your Mother. The guts to be in love with dangerous racing I will take credit for though.“ He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear before resting his hand on the side of your face, gently wiping away your tears. “Listen, people may be blind and ignorant now, but when they finally realize just how good women can be in motorsports and stop being pussies and take that risk, they are going to regret waiting so long.” 
His words do nothing to calm the raging storm in your mind. “I know, but I wanted to be that person. I wanted that realization to happen now. I worked so hard and what did I get in return? To be passed over by someone who’s absolute shit? It hurts so bad.” 
His hands reach back over to yours, enveloping your much smaller ones in his as he tries to comfort you in any way he can. “That feeling will pass. It hurts now, but it’ll pass. I promise you.” 
The feeling never truly passes. 
You learn to deal with it, trying to find the positives in life, but the ache is still there. It's like a bad knee that hurts when it’s cold outside. It’s not there all the time, but certain moments take you back to that awful day. It hurts when you win the F2 championship and still don’t have a seat in F1. It hurts when interviewers ask you about what your future holds. It hurts when you see people you raced with as a kid be that one of twenty that you want to be so bad. 
Once the F2 season ends you honestly have no idea what you are planning on doing with your life. You really don’t want to dabble in other forms of racing, but you know if you take a year off your chances of getting that golden seat become even more slim. 
It’s not until the FIA Gala that you come to the conclusion that maybe you should take up the offer of being a reserve driver. You know you’re going against every word you’ve previously said and every stubborn bone in your body doesn’t want you to do this, but there’s nothing you want more than to be a Formula 1 driver. And if there is even a .1% chance that you could get that seat by doing a year as a reserve first, then you’d be dumb to not try. You know all the odds are against you and maybe you’re betting on a losing dog, but you needed to at least believe in yourself if no one else was. It’s a choice that you’ve mulled over for what seems like an eternity, but it’s a certain Dutch driver that makes you take the final leap off the edge. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You’ve known Max since you were kids in karting. The two of you were pretty close friends as kids, often seen attached at the hip around the track during race weekends. He’d found solace with you and your family, something that looking back now, you were glad to have been able to give him. He was the only other person who you truly considered competition back in those days. It was always a fun time when you raced against Max, mainly because he treated you like an equal, but also never downplayed your talent. He knew you were good and he expressed that many times– something that meant a lot to you back then and still does today.
As you two got older your friendship started to fade for no reason other than taking different paths. When he skipped F2 and went straight into F1 you were pissed, but he had the talent, you couldn’t deny that. You’d sometimes see him on weekends when F1 and F2 raced together, a few short words spoken in passing, but it was never like the old days. Your lives didn’t necessarily coincide anymore, he was making waves as the youngest F1 driver to exist and you were stuck in F2. So when he approached you at the Gala you were surprised. 
You’d been playing good racing driver and making small talk all night, talking to sponsors and random rich men who loved to hear  themselves talk. You’d finally escaped the tortuous sea of networking and found yourself at a somewhat secluded table with a flute of champagne in front of you. You hadn’t been at the table for very long  before you heard a familiar Dutch accent coming from behind you. 
“Is this seat taken?” 
You turned to see the one and only Max Verstappen standing there with his hand on the back of the seat next to you. Your eyes scanned across the white linen tablecloth to the several empty chairs surrounding the table and then back to Max. “I think they all might be spoken for, but I’m sure they can find another table to sit at.” He lets out a little chuckle as he sits down and you notice him fidgeting with his tie, clearly trying to loosen it. “It’s weird seeing you in anything other than your race suit or team kit.” 
His movements halt as his eyes comb over you and it makes you squirm slightly in your seat. “Could say the same about you.” 
He’s not wrong though, the dress you’ve picked out for tonight is nothing shy of stunning, but it’s not you. You always felt like these events were a form of torture more than anything and having to get all dressed up was just the cherry on top. 
“I saw that you had a good season.” You state before taking a sip of your champagne. 
Max’s eyebrows raise in surprise towards you, like you’ve just said the craziest thing. “I don’t think we should be talking about my season when you’ve just won a championship.” 
You lean back in your seat, crossing your legs as you adjust your dress. “It’s only an F2 championship Max.” There’s still a part of you that’s slightly bitter about him leaving you behind and you wonder what this night would be like if you were an F1 driver like him. 
“It still means something.” His baby blue eyes narrowed at you as he spoke. 
The remaining champagne in your glass is gone in seconds, this isn’t where you wanted this conversation to end up, but somehow you knew it was inevitable. “It doesn’t mean much if it can’t even grant me that seat I want. I won that championship basically halfway through the season, but can’t get anyone to offer me anything higher than a reserve driver. How does that mean anything?” 
Max shifts in his seat, he knows this is a sensitive subject to you and he knows what he’s about ready to tell you will probably get him slapped, but he has to at least try. 
“It could mean something and I came over here to talk to you about it.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words, confused as to what he could possibly mean. “I want you as my teammate.” 
You can’t help but laugh slightly at him, the Dutchman had clearly had one too many glasses of champagne tonight. “Did you think to express that to Red Bull before I had that world shortest meeting with them months ago? We all have dreams Max and yours is nice, but it’s a pipe dream.”
He shakes his head and scoots his chair closer to you. “It’s not a dream. It can happen. The team wanted to see how the rest of your season played out, but they for sure want you now.” 
“Where is Daniel going then?” A waiter comes past and you snatch another flute of champagne off of their tray. “And why is this not being discussed in a formal meeting setting?” 
“The team thought you might be more willing if you heard about this from someone you knew pretty well first. You know I’ve always been in your corner.” Max knows this is where the conversation will either go south or you’ll hear him out and he fears the latter isn’t the most likely scenario. “ And Daniel isn’t going anywhere” 
It takes you a moment to understand what Max’s words mean, your glass of champagne hovers near your lips as you slowly realize what he’s insinuating. And this time you actually do laugh at him because how could he think that after your disgruntled conversation just moments ago that you would want the one thing you were dissatisfied with? 
“Max, you've got to be kidding me.” You feel like this is one big prank and your tone is more defeated than upset at this point. 
Max on the other hand is trying to figure out how to convince you that this is your best option without making you throw that glass of champagne in his face. “Just hear me out ok? I know being a reserve is the last thing you want, but I also know that you’re one of the best drivers out there right now. And yes– you should have that seat already and it sucks that they are making you jump through so many hoops, but I’m trying to help you out in any way I can. So please just take Red Bull’s offer. You’d be a reserve for a year and then when Daniel’s contract is up at the end of the season you’d be the number one contender for his spot.” The only thing you can find yourself to do is blankly stare at him. It’s not a guarantee that you would be getting Daniel’s spot, you’d just be a contender and to you that means you would be just used for headlines and never actually considered. 
“You really think this is the best thing for me?” 
A sigh escapes past his lips, he should have known this wouldn’t be as easy as he hoped. “What are you really going to do if you don’t take this offer? You can’t do another season in F2. I mean, you’re driving laps around these guys for fun. You’re wasting your talent here and you’re also wasting it by being so determined to not take this opportunity.” 
Your arms defensively cross over your chest and you want what he’s saying to not make sense, but it is and it’s making you even more irritated. “I could seek out other forms of racing.” 
Max can’t help but roll his eyes at how stubborn you’re being. “You won’t though. You love rallying and yes it’s in your blood, but you lack the experience that you need. Endurance just isn’t you. Indycar is the closest thing to F1, but at the end of the day it’s not Formula 1, so I know you won’t actually seek it out. F1 is what you want Y/N and I’m trying to help you get there.” 
You know what he’s saying is true and it’s a tough pill to swallow, but you still can’t bring yourself to actually accept that this is your best and to be frank your only option at this point. Max can see the gears turning in your head, your teeth chewing on your bottom lip. “Y/N.” He’s trying to get you out of your head and bring you back to him. His hand reaches out and gently lands on your knee and that simple action has your eyes focusing back on his blue ones. 
“How do you know for sure? How do you know that I’ll actually be considered for Daniel’s seat?”  
A heavy sigh comes from Max and you know he’s not going to say what you want to hear. “I don’t. You know the racing world –  just because something is said doesn’t mean it’s true, but there’s a high probability. And I think if there’s even a slim chance and you don’t take it then you’d be dumb. You know I’ll always be in your corner and I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted you as my teammate.” 
You still don’t know what to say to him, you’re torn between staying true to your values and not taking anything less than what you deserve and realizing that you may have to accept that this is the only way to even get close to your dream. “Stop making the guys in F2 cry and come join Red Bull, please.” 
A small smile finds its way onto your face when you realize Max is recalling all the boys you used to make cry when you beat them when you were kids. 
“Think you’re the only one I haven’t made cry yet, Verstappen.” 
Max mirrors your smile, the memories of old karting days also replaying in his mind. “Don’t see it happening anytime soon either.” A small chuckle escapes past his lips as he speaks. 
The atmosphere between you two had lightened and as you stare at the smiling Dutchman in front of you there’s really only one thing you can say to him. 
“I’ll think about it.” 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
After much deliberation, a handful of meetings, and finally accepting that this was unfortunately your best option, you found yourself dressed in a Red Bull team kit three months later in Australia. 
Being a reserve driver was not where you expected to be right now, but you were trying to be more positive about the situation. If it wasn’t for Max you’d probably be sitting at home wallowing in self pity. At least with being a reserve you get to still be around the one thing you love. It was tough though, to be a part of the race weekend, but not actually be able to race. You’re in the team meetings, you occasionally do media, you train like a driver– you do everything that a driver would do on a race weekend except actually drive the car. You sometimes feel like you’re just being taunted, like an animal with a treat just out of its reach. It's hard mentally sometimes, but you push through with the help of a therapist and the hope that this suffering now will be worth it in the end. 
Being a reserve meant you spent basically all of your time on race weekends in the garage. It wasn’t a foreign place to you by any means, but you’d never really been in the garage while the race was happening. You were more accustomed to being the one out on the track and not in here, but you’d grown to love the behind the scenes work. The one thing in particular was the role of race engineer. You were very familiar with them, your own engineer had been with you all through Formula 3 and 2 and you had fully planned on taking them with you into F1 if it was possible. The bond between racer and engineer is a special one, you’ve got to have the utmost trust with one another, know how eachother thinks and trust that they are doing everything in their power to help you. It sounds a little dramatic, but truly what is a racer without their engineer? 
Throughout the season you’d found yourself lingering more and more around the engineers. The occasional times where GP let you sit on the pit wall during practice sessions or qualifying you found yourself glued to the seat next to him. To see how effortlessly Max and him communicate and the level of trust is amazing. It’s a completely different atmosphere and there’s somehow a calm adrenaline that comes over you when you’re on that pitwall. GP makes it look like a piece of cake— looking at data, having multiple people in your ear at once, thinking about strategy. It sounds like a nightmare to some, but you grow to love it. The analytics make the gears in your head turn and the little racing nerd in you can’t seem to get enough. 
You seem to be focusing more on the engineering side of things more than racing at a certain point in the season and maybe it’s because subconsciously you know you aren’t going to get Daniel’s seat so you’re trying to distract yourself with something else. There are some moments during the season that give you hope that perhaps you will be considered, like the couple times you get to drive Max’s car in FP1. That hour you get where it’s just you, the car, and the track in front of you makes you realize why you fell in love with this sport to begin with. It’s just that when that hour is up you’re brought back to reality and you don’t want to get out of the car, but the proud look on Max’s face and his insistent rambling about how it was a no brainer that you finished with the fastest time each session made it a little easier. 
But even with the slivers of hope, Max constantly advocating for you, and not to mention just your raw talent– the team still decides to go with someone else. They don’t come right out and tell you, but you hear the whispers around the paddock and online that Pierre Gasley is who they want. Your name is barely mentioned in talks and when the announcement finally happens at the end of the season you aren’t even surprised. In all honesty yes it hurts, but you knew when you signed that contract that there was the tiniest chance that you’d get that seat and so throughout the season you built your walls up and prepared yourself for the inevitable. 
If it was even possible Max seemed more upset than you about it, but when you tell him over winter break about the other deal you struck he seems to forget all about how you once again had been wronged. Somehow by not getting a racing contract you managed to sign a different one. It was a long depressing month during the end of the season of coming to terms with the fact that your racing career very well may never go any further than F2, but you’d realized that you can still experience your love of racing, just differently, by becoming an engineer. You’d fallen in love with the behind the scenes work during your year as a reserve and GP had somewhat taken you under his wing.
So when the two of you had an actual conversation about you possibly taking the steps to become one it just seemed to click. You’d signed a contract alright, but it wasn’t the one you’d imagined to be signing. The little girl with a dream of being nothing other than a race car driver couldn’t believe that this is where she was headed, but here you were. You were no longer Red Bull Racing reserve driver, you were now a Red Bull Racing apprentice engineer. Even with your knowledge from being a racer for some time, you’d still need to go to school and you somehow managed going to school while working under GP. How you managed that work load you’ll never know. 
Max was thrilled that you two still got to work together and was proud that you’d seeked out a new path for yourself. He’d still be holding out hope that one day you’d get to be teammates, but for now he couldn’t be more happy for you. Especially because you seemed happy with how your life was turning out. 
As the years pass you only grow closer with Max. It’s like you’re joined at the hip sometimes, but you come to realize there’s no one else you’d want to spend the majority of your year with. It feels like your old karting days, he gets you and you get him and for you two that’s just enough. You’re there for his first WDC and you don’t think you’d cried as much as you did then, seeing the boy you raced with as a kid win such a prestigious title. But you also cried for yourself, because as much as you were so proud of Max, you couldn’t help but still mourn the fact that it could have been and should have eventually been you winning a championship. It stings a little less when he wins his second, but that’s mostly because you got so drunk you couldn’t really remember much of it. When you graduate with your degree in engineering Max is there cheering you on, dressed in something other than his team kit for once. You don’t remember much from that night either, but you can’t seem to forget how genuinely proud he seemed of you and how he couldn’t seem to be anyplace other than right next to you. 
The following year with a degree and years of experience now under your belt you get a promotion, mainly because GP got poached by another team for the following season. So for the 2023 season that is truly an iconic one for Max you’re practically his race engineer, but GP is still there right next to you offering his knowledge when needed. 
When it’s finally official that you’ll be taking over the role as Max’s race engineer in 2024 the news is mostly positive, but of course there are some people that think you couldn’t possibly be capable of taking on the role. That a three time worlds champion shouldn’t have a woman as an engineer, let alone one that was around the same age as him. It was funny truly, you were more than qualified to be an engineer. You’d done the schooling and had the experience, yet once again because you were a woman people thought you didn’t deserve the job. 
Max on the other hand was ecstatic that you’d be filling GP’s shoes. He’d had a good run with him, but he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t sure that you two would make an incredible duo. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“So maybe this wasn’t how I’d imagined us being teammates, but I did tell you I wanted us to be teammates didn’t I? And I think it’s safe to say I always get what I want.” Max stated as the two of you tried to hide in the corner of this end of season/Max's WDC party/your promotion party. Well technically it was Max’s WDC party, but of course he had to bring you into it and show his appreciation to the team as always. 
He’s clearly had one too many gin and tonics and the goofy smile on his face only got wider as he spoke.
“Cocky much huh? I think that third championship is getting to you.”  
He leaned in closer to you and those pretty baby blues narrowed in on you. “Well when we get my fourth title next year I’ll show you just how cocky I can be.” That was gin and tonic talking and you knew it was time for Max to retire for the night. 
“Alright champ. Think it might be time to call it a night.” Your hand wraps around his bicep to try and guide him towards the exit, but he’s a solid man and he doesn’t even budge. 
“No, it's still early! We haven’t even begun to celebrate you yet!” He’s being loud and pouty and all up in your personal space, classic signs of drunk Max. And truth be told you don’t want the attention on you whatsoever, hence you hiding in the corner. Which of course Max had invaded as soon as he could.  “Come on just one more drink?” 
You know one more drink is never just one more, but for whatever reason tonight you can’t tell him no. And so hours later when you’re both making your way down the fancy hotel hallway towards his room you don’t even recall wanting to leave early. Both of you tipsy are always giggling messes and when Max can’t seem to get his key card to work to get into his room it’s apparently the funniest thing on earth to you. Which in turn has Max laughing and you don’t realize how loud you two actually are until the door across from his opens and a disgruntled elderly man is stood there in his robe. 
“Sorry!” You barely squeak out to the man as Max finally gets his key card to work and you’re pushing him into his room before the old man can respond. When you hear the door click behind you, the both of you are stood in silence staring at each other for a moment and then laughter erupts out of both of you. 
Max plops down on his bed and you take that as a sign that he’s safely made it back to his room and you’ve fulfilled your duty as his friend tonight. “Alright. You’re safe and sound which means I’m gonna head to my room. Goodnight Max.” 
He quickly sits up on the edge of his bed at your farewell, his teeth gnawing at his bottom lip as he wonders if he should go through with the idea that’s been consuming his brain for some time now. He had enough liquor in him now to justify even considering it. It’s not until your hand touches the door knob that he finally speaks up. “Y/N. Wait.” 
Your head whips around at the sound of his voice and by the time you’re fully turned around he’s inches away from you. “If this is you trying to convince me to rally and head back out I’m convinced you want me dead, Verstappen.” 
“No no, it’s nothing like that.” His voice is soft and you can almost feel the energy in the room change. 
“What is it then?” You throw him a questioning look. 
He’d cracked the can of worms and if he didn’t fully open them soon he doesn’t think he’ll ever get the chance again. “Um- there’s something I-” How was he supposed to tell the girl who in less than a month is going to be his official race engineer that he has feelings for her? He’d been somewhat harboring them since they were kids and as he got older and the feelings seemed to lessen he figured it was just a silly little childhood crush. He’d only then realized since becoming as close as the two of you have ever been these past couple years that those feelings were not just ones of a silly little childhood crush.
Sure it started out as that and yeah his feelings may have just gotten pushed down when your lives started to go in different directions, but now that he had you with him all the time and your relationship had blossomed into something more than just two kids on the kart track. He’d come to the conclusion that those feelings never actually went away. And he knows he should have said something sooner because this new phase in your relationship and your work relationship takes priority over his romantic feelings, but Max can’t help but be greedy. The three time world drivers champion surprisingly wants to have his cake and to eat it too.
The alcohol coursing through his veins isn’t really helping him in thinking that clearly, he can’t seem to muster up the words in the order he wants, it’s all jumbled up and he starts speaking in Dutch without realizing it. 
“Max, you're making no sense. You’re drunk, just talk to me in the morning or guess I should say afternoon by the way you seem to be sounding.” He’s tipsy, not drunk. He could hold a conversation, but apparently not when it came to confessing his feelings. The liquid courage he thought he had possessed was clearly no longer working in his favor. It’s only when he feels your hand touch his forearm that he pulls himself together. “When I signed that contract to be your race engineer I didn’t think it would include babysitting.” You slightly teased him as you tried to guide him back to his bed, but like back at the party his feet stayed planted to the plush carpet. 
You knew drivers and their engineers were close, you had to be, but there was something definitely different about Max and yours relationship. Maybe it was because you had known each other since you were children, but you two were for sure closer than the average duo. Case and point– the situation you two had currently found yourselves in. You didn’t know of any engineers and drivers who went out and hung out outside of work like you guys do or even party like you two do, but for you guys it was normal. So perhaps things would have to change when the season officially started. 
“If you’re going to be so stubborn then you can put yourself back to bed.” Your hand drops from his arm as you turn towards the door to leave when you feel his much larger hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you back towards him. “Max-” 
Your faces are inches apart and his pupils are so dilated that those pretty blue eyes that always stare back at you resemble something more of a black hole than a spring sky. “I may regret doing this, but I think if I don’t I’ll regret it even more.” 
And it’s in this moment that everything between the two of you changes and your lives are forever altered. 
You don’t even get to question what Max is talking about before you feel his plump pink lips against yours. Your brain short circuits and it takes you a second to realize what is actually happening, but by the time your brain catches up with your lips he’s already pulled away and cursing. 
“Fuck I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Clearly you don’t feel the same-” 
Max doesn’t even get to finish his rambling before your grabbing at the material of his shirt and pulling him back towards you. Your lips crashing into each others and this time he’s the one surprised. His hands reach up to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, your lips moving in perfect synchronization. The night's drinks linger heavy on your tongues and they begin to mix as his tongue slips its way into your mouth. He’s dominant yet soft with his actions and you find yourself becoming enthralled with them. 
When you two finally pull away you’re both breathless with rosy cheeks and giddy smiles on your face. There’s a silence between you, no one wants to be the first one to say anything. To bring you back to reality and ruin this moment, but Max is the first one to burst the bubble. “I hadn’t really planned on kissing you. I actually had a whole speech planned out, but guess this did the trick just as well.” 
“A speech?” You question. 
“Was gonna tell you that I may have had a crush on you since we were kids in karting and how I thought it was just a childhood crush for the longest time, but then we became so close ever since you joined Red Bull and I realized that I’ve always been enamored by you. We just get each other and being around you is so easy. You’re my person Y/N.” 
You weren’t going to lie to yourself and say you didn’t have a crush on Max when you were kids too or that you’d perhaps sometimes in the middle of the night when your mind wandered thought that there may be something a little more between Max and you than what you let on. But you’d always pushed those thoughts aside as quickly as they arrived. You didn’t allow yourself to be distracted with silly crushes when you were racing let alone now when this new dream was at your fingertips. But the fact was that it wasn’t just a silly little crush. Max is just as much your person as you are his. He’s your biggest supporter and embarrassingly the person you think about the most. And perhaps you do find yourself staring at his pretty blue eyes or the way his eyes scrunch up when he’s really happy or laughing hard. The way his lisp becomes more prominent when he gets excited or how you love to hear him “maxplain”. 
So perhaps you were more down bad than you had let yourself believe, but it was no use dwelling on it. You were colleagues and soon you would be his race engineer. This was just a drunk mistake and Max was only caught up in the moment– at least that’s what you kept telling yourself. This couldn’t happen right now and you know you know you shouldn’t have kissed him back, but god kissing resembled the same feeling of when you overtake on the track. That adrenaline rush that starts in your stomach and travels up to your chest. It’s addicting and as he stands there in front of you, those swollen pink lips of his keep shutting down everything in you that tells you to not let this go any further. 
Max gently reaches up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering as he tries to figure out how you feel. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have sprung this on you. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same, but I mean after that kiss… there’s got to be something.” The sly smirk on his face only has you rolling your eyes at him, but he knows from the small smile your donning that the eye roll was nothing of significance. “I just had to tell you. It’d been eating at me.” 
His hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across the top. You practically melt into his touch and as your eyes flutter shut a deep sigh escapes past your lips. You know this can’t continue, you know you’ve got to be the one to set the boundaries, but god damn if this wasn’t something like a dream. 
“I’m not going to lie and say I don’t feel the same because I do. Perhaps even more than you at times, but this was absolutely the worst time for you to do this. Before you know it the season is going to start and I’m going to officially be your race engineer. We can’t mix pleasure with business.” 
He knows what you’re saying is true, but to hear you say you feel the same as him has him willing to risk it all. “I know I should have told you sooner, but I think we could make it work.” 
“Max.” You’re trying to get him to think rationally for just a second. 
“We don’t have to put a label on anything and no one will know until we are ready. We will just take it slow. Nothing would have to change between us or the people around us. Work will always come first.” 
His hands move down towards yours and your fingers intertwine as you try to make sense of all the things flying around in your brain. You’ve never felt this way about anyone before like you do Max. You’d been burying it, trying not to let it get in the way of your job, but it had been there subconsciously the whole time. Now that you’ve come to terms with it and found out he feels the same, how the hell were you two going to move forward with this?
“Things will change Max, even if you say they won’t we both know they will. We’ll have to be careful about how we interact and sneak around. This isn’t some little make believe play time kind of thing. This is real life Max.” You squeeze his hand as you speak, trying to convey just how serious you’re taking this and how he should be too. “I also have a lot more at stake than you do Max. I’ve gone through hell and back to get where I am today, I don’t want it all ruined in the blink of an eye.” 
Max so badly wants to make this work. He understands your apprehension regardless of how strong your feelings are for him, but he thinks you guys should at least give it a try. 
“I understand what you’re saying. I also think what we’ve got here is pretty special. It would be a shame to not pursue it.” 
Your brain is telling you to choose your career and your heart is telling you to choose both your career and Max. Everything could work out fine and he could be the guy you end up marrying and living happily ever after with or it could all blow up in your face and you could lose your career and your man. But if you would have never taken the risk of becoming a reserve for Red Bull then you wouldn’t be here in this position. So you take the risk and decide to go with your heart. 
“Alright let’s see how this plays out Verstappen.” 
His eyes light up at your words. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah.” 
And for the third time that night you feel his soft lips pressed against yours. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The 2024 season starts out with a bang. Max puts it on pole in quali and wins in Bahrain and the same thing happens in Saudi Arabia. You’d been practically shitting yourself in the weeks leading up to the start of the season. There was an insane amount of pressure from the public and media for you to do well, but also an insane amount that you had put on yourself. You wanted to prove to people that you were good at your job, that you deserved to be there. So when the first two weekends went smoothly and your communication went well with Max you couldn’t have been happier.
Not to mention how well it was going with Max. You two had been nothing but careful when it came to your radio messages, but also your behavior in the garage. The fleeting glances or smiles thrown your way only mean that much more considering you two are the only ones who know their true intent. And the evenings spent in each other's hotel rooms are like your own personal getaway. It’s just you two once that door is closed behind you and it makes the kisses even sweeter. 
Although the following week in Australia you weren’t expecting to be dealing with a hiccup so soon, but that’s the world of Formula 1 for you. It started off normal, Max took pole in qualifying and the race started great. Everything is normal on the pitwall and then you see Carlos overtake Max on lap two. It of course is not what you want to see, but it was only the second lap and you weren’t that stressed at the moment, but then you hear the dial of Max’s radio.
“I just lost the car. Really weird.” Max’s voice fills your ears through your headset. 
“Yeah no problem Max. Still early.” 
You watch the data closely as the race continues and you can see his time dropping ever so slowly.
“Fuck. The car is loose.” 
“I know. Try and hold on, we are working on it.” 
His time keeps dropping and you're combing through everything trying to figure out what could be going on. As you glance at the monitor with the race coverage you notice smoke coming from the back of the car and not a second later his voice comes through your headset once more. 
“I have smoke. Fire fire. Brake my brake.” 
“Copy. Try and make it back to the pits.” 
Fuck. This could not be good. You’re first real issue as an official engineer and it’s only the third race of the season. You turn in your chair as you see him rolling down the pit lane, his rear brake on fire. Your stomach drops and you know it's a DNF for him. Thankfully it wasn’t a crash, you think you would have been going to the medics with him if that was the case. 
Your headset is off and you’re making your way across the pit lane as soon as you see him get out of the car. You’re nervous considering this is the first race issue you’ve dealt with while being “together” or whatever you two are calling it and you aren’t sure how Max is going to handle it. 
He’s in the garage taking off his balaclava as you walk up to him and you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him, but you know you can’t do that. There’s clearly signs of disappointment on his face, but he’s trying to keep a poker face when he spots you. “You alright?” You question as you lean against the counter. 
“I’m fine. Car isn’t though.” He’s short with you and you probably should have let him decompress on his own before coming over here, but you couldn’t help yourself. It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve seen him in a less than cheerful mood, but it’s the first time since coming to terms with how you felt about each other and you being his engineer.
“I know, I’m sorry.” 
He shrugs his shoulders at you, his hand running through his dirty blonde hair. “Wasn’t your fault.” 
You feel like it is though. “Are we good?” You ask with a low voice. 
Max could barely hear you with the sound of the mechanics and when he sees them moving the car into the garage he grabs you by the elbow and leads you towards the back of the garage towards the paddock entrance hallway. It luckily was empty for the moment, the garage too busy dealing with the car. 
“Why would we not be good?” He lowers his voice too. 
It’s your turn to shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It’s just that it was the first issue of the season and I wanted to make sure you weren’t upset with me or something.” 
“Schatje.” The term of endearment always has butterflies fluttering about in your stomach, no matter how many times you hear it. “It was not your fault. It was a mechanical issue.” 
He can see the worry across your face and he knows the amount of stress you’ve been feeling about everything. The last thing you need is to be worried about how your relationship is going. He quickly checks both directions and when he sees the coast is clear he pulls you into his arms. It’s what you both needed after the shit show that was this race and even if it was brief his actions told you everything you needed to know. “We’ll talk more tonight, yeah?” 
You simply nod at him, both of you knowing you have to go back to your respective roles in the team before someone comes around the corner. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before disappearing behind the corner and back into the garage. You lean your head against the wall as you let out a deep sigh. There was something in you that had a feeling that this season wasn’t going to be an easy one. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Japan and China have you guys back to regularly scheduled programming and then Miami comes and turns everything upside down. When Max wins by the skin of his teeth in Imola the following race week you know something is not right with the car, but you can’t seem to pinpoint it. You know Max and you know he’s driving the car to its full ability and he somehow manages to secure the win in Canada and Spain, but not without being vocal about how shit the car is over the radio, to which you can only reply copy that Max.
It’s clear to you and probably everyone else that this season is not looking to be a dominant Red Bull season and it makes your stomach churn to think about the headlines about you. There’s not a doubt in your mind that everything will be blamed on you, especially after the horrible weekend that is the Austrian Grand Prix. 
It doesn’t start out bad, Max puts it on pole in qualifying and he holds the lead throughout the majority of the race. It’s not until lap 48 that things start to fall apart. 
“I can’t hold this much longer.” Max’s voice sounds through your headphones. 
“A couple more laps Max.” 
“The tires are fucked.” 
You don’t want Lando to undercut Max and you know if you don’t time this pitstop right that it may very well cost Max the race. On lap 52 you call Max into the pits and McLaren pits Lando also. You need this pitstop to go well and of course — it doesn’t. A stubborn left rear wheel nut is what brings the gap between Max and Lando down to two seconds. 
There’s not a bone in your body that wants to relay that information to Max, but you’ve got to, it’s your job. 
“Gap to Lando is now two seconds Max.” 
“Fuck.” 
“I know, but you can hold him off.” 
As the time began to shrink between Max and Lando your confidence in Max holding him off was dwindling and you knew he wasn’t going to just let Lando pass him. He was going to hold Lando off for as long as he could and when the racing started to get sketchy you were sure you wouldn’t have any fingernails left by the time this race was over. 
“Keep it clean Max.” You tell him after a particularly close call. 
“Something is wrong with the car.” He replies. You can tell he’s got no grip, but he’s also trying to defend like his life depended on it. 
As the laps go by the two drivers seem to be getting more desperate as both of them are pushing track limits and each other. You know it’s not gonna end well and you can only do so much from the pitwall. It’s Max who makes the final decision out there regardless of what you say. 
It’s been a tiring back and forth game with them and when they finally make contact on lap 64 your stomach drops for the man you care for, but you shake your head as his engineer. Both of them have punctures and somehow Max is able to make it back to the pits and still finish fifth. It’s quiet on the pitwall and the cheers from the Mercedes team drown out anything that might have been said. You don’t know what to say to Max when you see him. As his engineer you know he was defending (rather recklessly in your opinion) but as his ‘girlfriend’ you want to slap him for being so reckless. 
You know it’s better to just let Max decompress on his own and at this point you somewhat need to also. He’s got media duties to deal with and you’ve got your own responsibilities. You don’t even bother in waiting around for him like you usually do after a race. Once your tasks are done you’re making your way back to the hotel and for the first time that weekend you actually go to your room. Nothing sounds better at the moment than a nice long hot shower and so you let the water help wash away the stress from this weekend. That is until you hear a rapid knock on the door as you’re wrapping yourself in the hotel branded fluffy white robe. You know exactly who it is, but considering you’re dressed in nothing but a robe– you check the peephole. To no surprise there on the other side stands a disheveled Max Verstappen. His hand runs through his hair obsessively and you can tell he’s not in the cheeriest of moods. You open the door and he wastes no time in coming in. 
“Why aren’t you in my room?” He immediately asks, his tone almost reads as offended that you were here instead of three rooms down. 
“A girl can’t use her hotel room?” 
“You know what I mean.” 
You sit down on the edge of the plush bed as Max remains standing. 
“I just wanted some alone time. To decompress after this weekend, specifically today. Figured you could use some too.” 
He’s standing in front of you now, his fingers lightly toying at the collar of your robe. “All I wanted to see when I came back to my room was my girl waiting for me.” His voice is soft and you can tell this weekend has taken a toll on him. He plays the tough guy act during racing, but at the end of the day he’s just a man who wants and needs love and comfort. And so without a second thought you're sneaking off to Max’s hotel room like a couple of teenagers trying to not get caught. 
The warm embrace of Max’s arms is one of the places you feel the most safe and tonight is no exception. Austria is clearly a weekend to forget, but you know the media will be dragging it out for weeks to come. “The only thing I’m gonna say about today is that you’re lucky all that happened was a puncture. As your engineer and girlfriend you put me through the fucking ringer today Verstappen.” 
He doesn’t even register you somewhat scolding him for his driving today, all he can seem to focus on his you referring to yourself as his girlfriend. Of course you’ve been nothing less to him in his mind, you were exclusively his and no other woman would compare. But with the somewhat tricky situation you’d found yourselves in you’d never really put a label on it and that was fine to him. In fact he’d been the one to suggest it in the beginning, mainly because he knew how nervous you were about exploring the relationship between you two. But to hear it nonchentaly come out of your mouth that you’re his girlfriend is perhaps the best thing he’s heard in a good while. 
“Girlfriend?” He questions, his tone somewhat teasing you. 
Your head leaves its home on his solid chest and moves to look up at him. You hadn’t even realized you’d referred to yourself as his girlfriend, but after six months of you two just going with the flow or whatever you wanted to call it. There was no doubt that you two were exclusively one anothers. 
“I mean– that’s what I am right?” You pray you haven’t just made a fool of yourself, but you know he feels the same. 
His hand cups your cheek and he looks at you like you’re the most breathtaking thing on the planet. You can feel the butterflies erupting in your stomach and just by the way his eyes soften when he looks at you, there’s no way he doesn’t feel the same. 
“Yes, but only if I’m your boyfriend.” His voice is sweet like honey and the butterflies are about ready to escape your stomach at this point.
“We sound like two 13 year olds right now.” 
Your laughter is like music to Max’s ears and he can’t ignore the swelling feeling in his chest. It’s terrifying, but thrilling at the same time and it’s a feeling that he’s sure he never wants to be without. 
“Well ok then I need to know if we are actually boyfriend and girlfriend.” Giggles fill the hotel room and you would have thought you two had been drinking with how ridiculous you two were acting, but you were really just lovesick fools. 
As the laughter dies down you can sense a shift in the atmosphere as you two lay there and stare at each other for a moment. In what seems like no time at all your leg swings over his waist and a second later you’re straddling him. His hands instinctively move to your hips and your hands lay flat on his chest as you lean forward. “I think it’s safe to say that you’re mine huh? My boyfriend?” 
Your lips hover just above his as you whisper to him and you can see his pupils dilating and feel the grip on your hips getting tighter. 
“I like hearing that.” He whispers back, his lips jutting out to connect with yours, but the tease in you has you pulling back ever so slightly. 
“Hearing what?” A playful smirk adorns your face as you sit up with your hands still splayed across his chest. 
He sits up too, but it’s clear you’ve ignited a fire in him. His hands snake around your waist as he holds you close to his chest. Your hands now resting on his shoulders. “That I’m yours.” 
And in one swift motion he’s flipped you onto your back as his large biceps bulge while he hovers over you. His head leans down towards your ear and his breath tickles your neck. It’s like every nerve in your body is heightened and you’re aware of every single thing he does to you and himself. “And that you’re mine.” 
A shiver runs up your spine as he whispers into your ear and by the look in his eyes you know it’s going to be a long night. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
To say you were looking forward to summer break was an understatement. The mere idea of having a month off was the only thing that got you through those last three races. Silverstone wasn’t horrible, but Hungary and Belgium were nothing to write home about. The team had figured out that the upgrades that were brought to the car weren’t working correctly, but now it was trying to figure out why they aren’t working and how to correct them. But even with potentially corrected upgrades it still seemed like the car would be a pace behind McLaren or Ferrari. You’d been stressing trying to work on a new strategy with Max and trying to figure out how to make the car faster with basically nothing to work with. Not to mention the headlines that had your head on a spike claiming “Red Bull’s downfall” was because of you. It was truly tiring and so when the checkered flag waved in Belgium you were one happy girl. 
It’s not everyday that you get to send a week on a private island with your boyfriend, yet here you were. When Max had mentioned something about getting away during summer break you had figured Saint Tropez or Bali or really any typical F1 driver vacation spot. You had also figured you’d be spending some time apart considering it would be a little weird to be spotted on vacation together. The last thing you wanted was for rumors to start flying around, but Max surprised you with the unexpected. 
When Max told you this was a private island you figured there’d be maybe a handful of other people, but it was literally just you two and the staff for the villa. It’s truly paradise on Earth and you have to pinch yourself sometimes to see if you’re dreaming. Days spent on the beach and in the ocean. Nights spent tangled inbetween the sheets and mornings spent waking up to the gentle lull of waves crashing onto the sand and alright sometimes it is spent tangled in the sheets. Decadent food at the snap of a finger and the feeling of the sun on your skin everyday. It’s just what you needed, what you both needed to help you recharge for the second half of the season. 
On one of your last nights on the island Max and you find yourselves cuddled up on one of the giant loungers outside. The ocean had calmed for the night and the moon’s light cascaded over the water and onto you two. For once Max had sought out comfort in your arms and you thought you had put him to sleep from running your fingers through his hair until he spoke up. 
“I’m glad we found our way back to each other.” 
Your movements stilled, you weren’t expecting him to say that. Sure Max is a lot more loving than people would expect, but he isn’t one to be overly sappy. “Me too.” There’s a beat in the conversation and your hand finds its way back to his hair. “I don’t think as kids we saw our lives ending up like this though did we?” 
“Career wise or us being together?” Max questions. 
“Both I guess or at least it was that way for me.” You can feel Max slip his hand under your shirt and his finger start to mindlessly trace patterns on your abdomen. “If you would have told the girl who hated your guts for a while after you left me behind in F2 that I would be on a romantic getaway with you years later, I would have laughed in your face.” You can sense the shit eating grin on Max’s face. “I also fully believed that I was going to be a Formula 1 driver. There was nothing that you could have told me back then that would have changed my mind. Hell even five years ago I was still holding out hope. Guess I should have known better.” You’d turned the conversation in a different direction, but it was Max and he was the one person who you could have these kinds of talks with in confidence.
Max knows this is still a very sore subject for you and how could it not be? He couldn’t imagine having gone through all the shit you have just to be denied over who you were. He may have had his fair share of shit to go through as a child and some other things, but in the end he got to achieve his dream and no one denied him of it because of who he was. He knew you had to look at him with envy more times than not and he wished he could only go back in time and somehow by the grace of the racing gods get you a seat. “There’s no such thing as “knowing better” you had a dream and the talent to back it up. There was no reason you shouldn’t have been able to achieve it schatje. Life is just one cruel fucker sometimes.” 
“But I guess without that happening we probably wouldn’t have ended up together then?” You try to change the subject to something less depressing than your failed racing career. 
“Everything happens for a reason.” Max states. 
You nod in agreement, it’s something you’d told yourself quite often to try and cope with your dreams getting crushed. 
“I do love my job now and however shit my luck may be it can’t be that bad. I still get to enjoy racing and I’ve managed to acquire you in the process.” 
Max lets out a small laugh at your statement. “Didn’t know I was some prize to be sought after.” 
“You were like an added bonus that came with the job.” 
Max playfully scoffs and after a few moments of silence he changes the subject.
“Maybe we should just stay here for the rest of the season.” He doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s been dreading for summer break to end and to go back to driving a car that wants to disagree with everything he does.  
“It would be nice, but we have a championship to win.” 
Max looks up at you and even with the moon as your only light source those baby blues of his still sparkled. “You really think we still have a shot at it?” 
You know this season has been weighing him and the whole team down and as much as you’ve been stressed you still have faith that you guys can pull off the WDC. ‘I’m gonna tell you something my Dad used to tell me. Whenever I had a difficult race or was upset or even when I was getting rejected for an F1 seat he’d always tell me ‘it’ll pass’. You may be feeling like shit right now or hopeless, but after some time things get better and eventually that feeling of despair will pass. This rough patch we are in right now– it’ll pass Max. You’re gonna win again, especially if I have anything to do with it.” 
The overwhelming desire he has to tell you he loves you right now is something he can’t ignore. He’s never had someone in his corner like this before. Had someone that he cared about so deeply and loved be so involved in securing his success, but also reassuring him and instilling confidence back in him. It’s something you were good at as kids too, he couldn’t recall how many times he’d snuck off and hung out with you and your family during your karting years. If he hadn’t had a particularly good race he always knew you’d be there for him no matter what others in his life said or did.
But as much as he’s confident in his true feelings about you and the fact that he really hadn’t felt this way about anyone before, he decides to keep it to himself for the time being. If you by some chance don’t feel the same he doesn’t want to ruin this nice moment or vacation by blabbing his mouth about how he feels. So for now him pressing his lips against yours and the feeling of your hands on him will have to suffice instead of ‘i love you’. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The first race back after summer break is Max’s home race and you both want nothing more than for him to win this one. The usual cool and collected Max has some nerves to him this weekend. You’d been nothing but reassuring and supportive this weekend because you truly think with the little tweaks the team had made to the car and some new strategy techniques that you may have this weekend in the bag, but Max can’t seem to shake the doubt in his mind. He’s of course thrilled to be racing at his home race, but the fact that he hasn’t been winning and that his family is going to be here has his mind working on overdrive. The little boy who hated to be a disappointment is still inside of him no matter the size of the nonchalant facade he tries to put on. 
When Max qualifies P2 you know he’s going to be upset, but you know you guys can work with P2. You two go over the best possible strategy techniques Saturday night and come Sunday morning you’re both feeling good about the race. 
“Alright Max twenty seconds until the formation lap. Be smart and safe.”
Your voice travels through the headset and Max smiles at the last part. It had become a habit of yours to always tell him to be smart and safe over the radio. It’s your way of telling him you care and perhaps subconsciously that you love him and he wants to tell you he loves you back every time, but he knows everyone can hear what is being said, so he settles for the old stand by. 
“Copy.” 
When the lights go out you don’t realize you haven’t taken a breath until Max overtakes Lando on the first turn and you’re breathing out a giant sigh of relief. This is what you guys needed and now all Max needed to do was get some distance between him and Lando and pray for it to be a boring race and he’d be taking that top step. 
“Beautiful Max.”
You know the reassurance over the radio will have him smiling like a fool under his helmet. 
It doesn’t take long though for your confidence about the race to start to diminish. Lando wastes no time in trying to gain his position back and you can tell Max can’t hold him off much longer. He eventually overtakes him and the gap that Lando starts to create is making your stomach turn. You knew if Lando got out in front and into the clean air it would be game over and that’s exactly what happens. With only ten laps left you don’t even want to tell Max how big the gap has gotten, but from his radio silence and him not outright asking, you figure he already knows. 
22 seconds. 
That’s the gap between Lando and Max when the checkered flag waves. Your stomach is in knots as you take off your headset and make your way towards the crowd already forming for the podium celebration. Max still ended up with P2, but to be beaten with a 22 second gap at your home race has got to be killing him. You watch him from below and you can tell his mind is going a mile a minute, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins and the disappointment from losing the race is written all over him. 
After the podium celebration and the team debrief and every other responsibility that you have on a race weekend, you finally find yourself back at the hotel. Usually you’d be flying back home on his private jet, especially on a weekend like this, but Max opted to fly out first thing in the morning. So while Max finished up the last of his responsibilities you opted to torture yourself some more and go over countless amounts of data from this weekend.
Technically this isn’t even your main job, but if you can somehow figure out what the hell is wrong with this car then you’ll take on whatever job you have to. You don’t even realize how long you’ve been sat at this small hotel room desk, papers scattered everywhere as you hunch over your laptop. The sound of the door opening and closing doesn’t register in your mind and it’s not until you feel two strong hands on your shoulders that you are brought back from the world of tire degradation and sector times. 
“Baby, come on, let's go to bed. We can’t solve this in one night.” His fingers work slowly into your tense muscles and a sigh of relief comes from you as you lean back in the chair, eyes fluttering closed as he continues to work his magic. 
And as good as this feels, your brain wants to talk about the elephant in the room. “So we are gonna pretend like you didn’t get beat with a 22 second gap at your home race?“ His movements halt and you realize you probably could have worded that better. 
“Well I’d actually like to forget about it if that’s alright.” He moves away from you and chooses to sit down on the edge of the bed. His body language is nothing shy of defeated and you could kick yourself for how you spoke. 
“That’s not what I meant to say. It came out wrong. I was just trying to say that I’m trying to figure this out so it doesn’t happen again. We can act like it didn’t happen but it did and there’s clearly a reason here in this data.” 
He doesn’t say anything, just stares at you blankly. 
“I’m sorry if this isn’t what you want to be hearing, but I’m trying to get you a winning car again Max. I mean this is my first year as your actual engineer and I feel like I’m gonna lose my job if you aren’t winning races. The car is shit and we can’t seem to figure out a good strategy to work with the shit car. I don’t know what the fuck happened from last year to this year but I’m losing my fucking mind. People already think I shouldn’t be here and by not cranking out wins I’m just giving them more ammunition to use against me.” 
You hadn’t realized you’d started crying until you feel Max’s thumb wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Fuck I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go on some rant and have a breakdown.” 
You bury your head into his chest as his arms wrap around you, enveloping you in his strong warm embrace. “It’s fine. It’s good to let it out.” One of his hands moves to gently stroke your hair and when you finally pull your head back to look at him, he’s pressing a kiss to your forehead and it tells you everything you need to know. 
“I know we’ve both been under stress, but I didn’t know it was this bad baby. I wish you would have talked to me sooner before it resulted in this.” 
You shrug your shoulders at him. “Didn’t want to be a burden.” 
“You’re never a burden to me. We are a team, remember? Regardless of actually working for the same team, at the end of the day it’s still you and me. Don’t ever feel like you have to bottle things up because you’re worried it will stress me out. We’re in this crazy ass world together yeah?” 
A sniffle comes from you, but your tears had subsided. You find yourself just staring at him, getting lost in those ocean blue eyes and you know you’re so eternally grateful to have a guy like Max in your life. If only the world could see just how compassionate and loving he actually was. 
“Don’t know what I’d do without you.” 
“Probably be miserable.” 
And there was the smart ass Max that you knew all too well. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The season was coming to an end in a little over a month and you and Max and the whole team had been working overtime in trying to get the cars back up to the normal Red Bull standard that everyone had come to know. Max hadn’t won a race since Spain in June and with only four races left in the season the media had been in a whirlwind over a possible title fight between Max and Lando. You tried not to pay it much mind, there wasn’t a doubt in your mind that Max wouldn’t win his fourth championship this season. Even with a less dominant car he still went out there and gave it everything and his talent truly showed this season, to see him pulling that car up to podium level multiple times told everyone what they needed to know 
Brazil was this weekend and it’s always a fun race in your opinion. Rain is always expected at least once throughout the weekend and the teams prepare for it, but this weekend it seemed that mother nature didn’t want this race to happen. Qualifying had gotten moved to Sunday morning which made things a little more complicated. If Max wrecked it didn’t give the mechanics much time at all to make any repairs. To make things even worse he was already starting with a five place grid penalty due to power unit change, so he had to make the most of this qualifying. 
The garage is alive preparing to send the cars out for qualifying, but you can see how wet the track is and you can’t lie– you’re nervous. Usually you’d be on the pitwall by now, but you’re lingering in the garage waiting for Max. When he sees you he’s surprised and when you pull him to a somewhat less busy spot of the garage he’s worried that something is wrong. 
“Everything alright?” He asks. 
“Yes. Just wanted to tell you in person to be safe. It looks nasty out there.” 
A smile creeps its way onto his face and before he can tease you about being a softie his head mechanic comes up asking him a question. You take that as a sign to get your ass over to the pitwall before anyone overhears anything else. With your headset on and your nerves at bay for the moment you turn around in your chair to see Max getting into his car. 
“Alright. Green light at the end of the pitlane. Be smart and safe Verstappen.” 
“Always am.” 
You roll your eyes at him and prepare yourself for what could be an interesting qualifying session. When the first cars go out you know there’s going to be multiple crashes, you can just tell. Luckily Max makes it to Q2, but that's where everything goes wrong. A late called yellow flag has Max qualifying P12 which is actually P17 and you know when you hear the static in your headset that what comes out of his mouth is not going to be pretty. 
“What the fuck? Why did they wait that long to pull out the flag? Should have been red to begin with, he went into the wall!” 
“I know Max. We will discuss it later.”
You’re trying to not let himself get more community service, so the less he talks on the radio the better. 
Max is raging as soon as he exits the cockpit of his car and you can tell from the pitwall that he has a bone to pick, but the race is in a few short hours and you have work to do. He can rant all he wants later, but you’re on a mission to somehow get him to win this race all the way from the back of the grid. He doesn’t come and find you for some time, but when he does you two don’t even mention the drama from qualifying. He’s clearly cooled down and you two know it’s now time to lock in and make this strategy work. You two go over three possible strategy plans, but you can tell from the fire in his eyes that he’s planning on pulling out a little bit of Mad Max today. 
There’s maybe a half an hour until lights out and you take that time to go and find your parents who had been invited to attend the race this weekend. You like to think their very cool race engineer daughter is the reason they are here, but unfortunately you are a nepo baby and your Dad was invited because of who he was. Unsurprisingly you find Max and your parents chatting in the garage, Red Bull lanyards hanging from their necks. They greet you with a hug and kiss and Max and your Dad continue to talk while your Mom and you head out into the paddock. 
“How’s the engineer life been treating my baby?” She asks as you two stroll down the paddock. 
“I can’t lie, it's been stressful, but I love it. Helps that I’ve got such a good driver to work with though.” 
“It’s nice to see you two reconnect.” There’s an inflection in her voice and you know there was a totally different meaning behind her words. 
“What is it Mom?” You groan. 
“Nothing. All I said it was nice to see you two reconnect. You two were close as kids and I’m not surprised that you found your way back to each other.” 
You stop in your tracks, turning to face her. “Mom.” 
“It’s truly nothing. It’s just a little bit of Mother’s intuition.” You stare blankly at her– waiting for her to continue. “I’ve heard how you talk to him over the radio, how you two look at each other in pictures, and I’ve witnessed firsthand how you two have acted today. You’re in love with him aren’t you?” Your heart starts to race and you don’t know what to tell her, of course your Mom would know this. She links her arm with yours and you two head back towards the Red Bull garage.
As you two walk through the entrance you find your Dad and Max still talking. Your Mom lowers her voice as she speaks to you. “Your silence tells me that I’m correct.” When Max spots you his whole face lights up and he’s waving for you to come join him and your Dad. “And I’d say it’s pretty safe to say he’s in love with you too.” She whispers to you before heading towards the two men.
You’re dumbfounded as you stand there in the middle of the busy garage, but the sweet sound of a familiar Dutch accent hollering for you has your legs moving before your brain catches up. 
In what seems like no time at all you’re back on the pitwall and the cars are lined up on the grid. After a mess of a formation lap the five lights finally go out and the race is underway. Max wastes no time in making his way through the field and you’re crossing your fingers that this rain on the radar goes around the track, but as the first few droplets fall you know this is about to get interesting. 
Max had made it up to second thanks to a combination of VSCs, other teams pit stops, and then by the grace of the racing gods a red flag. Which gave you guys a free pitstop and allowed for him to hold his P2 position. Things were looking up, but when the red flag lifted it seemed like the rain was only getting heavier. You knew at this point that this was the ultimate test of trust between Max and you. He was blindly following your orders and praying that what you were telling him wasn’t going to have him end up in the wall like so many others. 
“No red flag? This is getting dangerous, even for me.” 
“No red flag.” 
“What the hell?”
“I know. Anything can happen out there. Please be careful.” 
Your fingernails are non-existent at this point and you’re sure you’ve aged ten years from this race alone, but eventually Max overtakes Esteban and after more safety cars and yellow flags it’s down to the last lap. Max has got this and you can feel the happy tears starting to well up in your eyes. And when that checkered flag waves and he’s the first person to see it the whole pitwall and garage erupts into cheers. You would have thought he’d won the championship the way everyone was acting, but he was just reclaiming his spot at the top.
You can’t make your way over to the barricade fast enough and to see the pure joy on his face as he climbs out of the car makes your heart swell with happiness. It had been a long time coming this season and of course his first win in what seemed like forever was one hell of a drive. He comes running over to the team and when he spots you you’re the first person he’s hugging and practically pulling over the barricade. You can feel the happiness radiating off of him and you know that after this that he’s got the championship in the bag. 
The podium celebration was one for the books and to see him radiating up there and smiling down at you had you forgetting that you’re keeping this relationship a secret. But the one thing you know you won’t forget is how in love you felt and what you don’t realize is how bad it’s going to hurt. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The two week break before the triple header that ends the season has you spending some time at headquarters. It's just the usual end of the season stuff, but when an email pops up from HR wanting to schedule a meeting you’re a little concerned. You don’t mention anything to Max, figuring it’s just maybe something silly, but when you walk into the HR office you can sense that it’s not something small. 
“Y/N, so glad you could work this meeting into your schedule. I know you’re a busy woman so I appreciate it.” 
You sit down in one of the plush chairs in front of her desk and you try to calm yourself, if it was something so bad then why would she be so cheery towards you. “Of course. What did you need to discuss with me?” God, could you sound any more robotic? 
Her cheery demeanor turns more serious and when she clasps her hands together on her desk you know this is the moment that someone has found out about you and Max and you’re about to be canned.
“I don’t know how to really go about this, but I’m just going to come right out and say it. There was someone who got into contact with us and claimed to have pictures of you and Max engaging in less than professional activities after his win in Brazil.” 
You’re stunned for a moment and don’t know what to say, you’d been mentally preparing yourself for this moment, yet when you actually hear it you realize you didn’t actually believe that this was the reason you were being called in. You two had been so careful about maintaining professional boundaries while at work and out in public, but apparently not that weekend. 
“I can assure you that’s not the case with Max and I. Did they actually have the photos to back up their claims or is this all just hearsay?” You weren’t going to immediately give it up in case this was a test, but when she pulls out an envelope and slides it across the desk, you know it’s over. 
The envelope though it weighs virtually nothing – feels like the heaviest thing in the world.
When you finally work up the courage to open it you feel like you’re going to throw up. Your palms are sweaty, mouth is watering, and you feel light headed. There in your hands is the thing that is going to ruin your career– pictures of you and Max kissing outside his hotel room in Sao Paulo. How could you two have been so dumb? You aren’t sure if you want to cry or scream or throw up. 
“There’s no denying that it’s you in those photos, but I’m here to give you your options.” 
“Options?” Your eyes are still locked to the photos that are still being held in your shaky hand. 
“Listen. I admire what you’ve accomplished as a woman in a fully male dominated sport. I also know what happens to women who let things like this go public. Their hard work is diminished to becoming their partner's significant other or your hard work could only have been accomplished by selling your body in exchange for promotions. Luckily, I was the one who saw that email and I squashed it early enough to where we won’t have a scandal on our hands, but I need something from you in exchange.” 
You’re like a deer caught in headlights and there's so many things going through your brain that you can’t even communicate with her. 
“I get that this is overwhelming and the last thing you wanted to happen, but right now it’s only you, Max, and me that know about your relationship at Red Bull and we want it to stay that way. I also know that you’ve gotten offers from McLaren and Ferrari to work for them next year and you’ve ignored them.” How did she know about that? You hadn’t told a soul, not even your parents. You’d been mulling over it for some time. You didn’t want to leave Max and you had made a home at Red Bull, but McLaren especially had been so adamant about getting you to join the team. Your contract with Red Bull was only for a year, but you figured they’d resign you, now it doesn’t seem that way. “So, you’re only real option here if you want to continue to make a name for yourself in this world is to break things off with Max and accept one of those offers.” 
Your eyes snap up towards hers and you can feel your heart about ready to beat out of your chest. “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but my higher ups will not want to deal with this scandal if you two continue to be careless. There will be no workplace romance, you will be gone and your hardwork will be for nothing. I followed your journey Y/N, you deserve to be out there racing with all of them, but life gave you lemons and you somehow made some damn good lemonade. Now don’t let them drink your lemonade.” 
She takes the photos and the envelope out of your hands and you hear her put them through the paper shredder. You feel like you’re frozen in time, like how you felt back in that meeting at Williams all those years ago. “I’m sure it’s nothing too serious between you two anyways. So this shouldn’t be a hard decision.” 
You’re brought back to reality and the words are slipping past your lips before you even realize it. “It’s not serious.” 
Yes it is. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
The following days leading up to Vegas are a blur, you try to drown yourself in your work and Max can’t seem to leave you alone. It’s not that you don’t want to see him, it’s just that you’re waging a war in your mind right now and he’s at the root of it. 
You try to ignore the impending doom hanging over your head and actually enjoy this weekend. If Max finishes one place ahead of Lando this weekend he’s going to be a four time World’s Driver Champion. It’s the thing you guys have worked towards the whole season and to see it finally come together might be one of the highlights of your career. Vegas as always is a spectacle, the lights, the parties, the celebrities. It’s nothing like any of the European races or really any other race if you were being honest. 
When the sun sets and the track lights come on your mind only focuses on the task at hand and not the ultimate ultimatum you’ve been given. Qualifying goes somewhat to plan, Max didn’t manage to get pole but he does qualify ahead of Lando, which puts him in a great spot for tomorrow. He’s buzzing once he gets out of the car and when he finds you he can tell there’s something slightly off with you. Your energy isn’t necessarily what it usually is, but he figures maybe you’re cold and tired, so he doesn’t press the matter. 
You try to follow the script the following night, but the longer this thing festers in your brain the more you can’t keep on your poker face. 
“Twenty seconds till formation lap. Be smart and safe.” 
“Copy.” 
The race thankfully is pretty unremarkable. The main goal tonight was to just beat Lando, if you managed to score a win also that would be great, but the Championship was what you were going after tonight. 
And that’s just what Max does. 
The roars from the crowd and the team as Max crosses the finish line before Lando are deafening and you can feel the mixture of happy and sad tears streaming down your face. 
“Max! You’re a four time champion!” 
It’s nothing but pure glee back from him across the radio and you can’t help but laugh at the simply lovely through the tears. You managed to pull yourself together and accept the congrats from the rest of the pitwall and make your way through the crowd to see if you can find Max, but he’s already trying to find you. The crowd makes space for you to get to the barricade and when Max spots you there’s nothing but love in his eyes and it absolutely kills you. He pulls you up over the barricade and envelopes you in the most bone crushing hug you’ve ever experienced. There’s millions of cameras around so you have to be careful, but you savor the moment for as long as you can. “We did it!” Max exclaims and you can see the happy tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. 
“We did! I told you it was gonna happen, didn't I?” 
Seconds later you two get into a Rolls Royce with a cameraman that takes you along the track. You look over at him and he’s radiating with happiness and the ache in your chest only seems to grow. “I’m so proud of you Max.” That smile that you love so dearly beams back at you and you want to reach out and caress his cheek, but you know you can’t.  
“I couldn’t have done this without you. This championship is as much yours as it is mine. I hope you know that.” He goes to reach for your hand, but then remembers the cameraman and quickly snatches it away. Silence fills the luxurious car and you know Max is trying to take in being a four time back to back champion, while you’re coming to terms with the fact that not too long from now you’re going to not only break the man you love’s heart, but your own. 
That little girl with a dream is still inside of you, she’s with you every race weekend. You love Max more than you should, but you know if you continue on with this you’ll be the one losing your job and not him. It’s not fair, but you learned that life isn’t fair early on and you’ll be damned if you allow yourself to lose something else that you worked so hard to achieve. So if that means losing Max and moving teams then you guess that's how it has to be. Your Dad’s words replay in your head ‘it’ll pass’ and you know that nothing ever truly passes and that all you do is learn to live with it. The ache gets weaker over time, but it never truly goes away.
Even though you found a new dream to pursue you still have moments of truly missing racing. Like when you see the pure excitement and joy on Max’s face when he wins a race or when you see the adrenaline radiating off of him when he gets out of the car, you can’t ignore that ache in your chest. You can’t help but sometimes still think that should be you and you know you shouldn’t feel like that about the man you love, but you’ve never been able to live through him. He’s told you so many times that his wins and now this championship are as much yours as they are his because without you he wouldn’t be able to win. But those words do nothing to heal the teenage girl who got her dreams shattered just because she was a girl. You want to be able to have your dream and keep the man you love, but the career you chose doesn’t allow for you to have both. So for that little girl that still lives inside of you, you choose your dream. 
You attend all the team celebrations and end up getting soaked in champagne more times than you can count and you try to savor every last moment you have with Max and that includes going out and celebrating and coming back to his hotel room and celebrating some more. You savor it all fully knowing this is the last time you’re going to make love to him and kiss him and be held by him. And when he finally decides to fully bare his heart to you as you lay in his arms that night, you stick your knife right through it. 
“I love you.” 
You don’t answer him for a moment and you know this is how it’s got to happen. The longer you wait the harder it’s going to be. 
“It’ll pass.” 
Max isn’t sure he heard you right and he’s choking on his own words trying to form a coherent sentence. “What are you talking about schatje?” 
The tears are already falling down your cheeks and you know there is no coming back from this. “Please don’t call me that.” 
Max removes you from his grasp and sits up in bed. “Why not?” 
“It makes this harder than it needs to be.” 
He’s more than confused at the moment. His heart is racing and you’re crying and he doesn’t understand what is going on. He just won his fourth championship and finally told the woman of his dreams that he loves her and she replies with it’ll pass? “Y/N what the hell is going on? I love you and I know you love me back. I see it in your eyes when you talk to me or when you look at me. I hear it when you tell me to be safe as I line up on the grid. Am I a fool or something? Have I been blind this whole time?” 
“I love you more than you could imagine.” 
“Then why are you sobbing and telling me it’ll pass and asking me to not call you schatje?” In the back of his mind he knows, but he doesn’t want to come to terms with it. 
You just want to pull him back into your arms and kiss him and take back everything you’ve said so far, but you can’t and you wish this wasn’t your reality at the moment. “We can’t be together anymore Max.” 
He furrows his eyebrows at you, he really can’t believe the words coming out of your mouth. “Are you being serious? Like are you being totally honest with me right now? Because we have something special here Y/N. I want to know why you’re throwing this away so easily.” 
You take a shaky deep breath and sit up next to him in the bed. “Someone got a picture of us kissing outside your hotel room in Brazil and Red Bull’s HR got wind of it. I got called in and she showed me the pictures. They squashed it before it got out, but Max, she basically told me that if we were to come out as a couple that I’d lose my job. I can’t afford to lose out another dream of mine Max. You don’t understand what it’s like.” 
He grabs your hand and the simple feeling of his skin on yours has more tears rolling down your cheeks. “Listen, I’d give away every championship every wi-” 
“You don’t mean that Max.” 
He’s up out of the bed at this point and you fear it’s only going to escalate from here.
“For fucks sake yes I do! I know we’ve made things a little complicated, but we can make it work. I mean I’m Max Ver-” 
“Exactly, you’re Max Verstappen. You won’t have to worry about losing your job over this. You’re F1’s golden boy, world famous Max Verstappen. It’ll be a little slap on the wrist for you, but for me in this boys club? It’ll be hell. I’ll be painted a whore, a girl whose only way to have gotten into this position was to have had sex with every guy I had to. You don’t know what it’s like to be one of the best drivers of your generation and not get to follow your childhood dreams simply because no one wants to take the chance on signing a female driver. I’ve had to give up one of my dreams and I’m not about to have to lose another one. So yes, I love you and it’s fucking killing me inside to do this, but sometimes we have to let go of the things we love. This horrible heart wrenching feel we are both experiencing will pass. I promise you. You deserve to be with someone who can give you their all.” 
He sits down at the end of the bed, your words finally sinking in and he feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. Like he's gone into the wall at full speed. “I don’t want anyone else but you Y/N.” You crawl to the end of the bed and wrap your arms around him and it’s at that moment you realize he’s crying too and the last little bit of your heart that’s intact finally breaks. “I’m not gonna be able to convince you to stay am I?” 
You press a chaste kiss to his bare shoulder. “No.” You whisper. “I’m probably always gonna love you Max, but this is how it has to be.” 
His hand reaches up and grabs yours and a shaky breath escapes from him before he speaks. “Guess you finally made me cry didn’t you?” 
FIA Gala 2025 
The black gown you’ve chosen to wear tonight is stunning, but you’ve still not grown accustomed to wearing them. And you haven’t grown to like these fancy Galas either, but you’ve got to go to it though. You’re being honored for being the first female engineer to win back to back WDCs with two different drivers on two different teams . Your season with McLaren this year was nothing shy of spectacular and people actually started to recognize your talent.
You’ve been nursing this glass of champagne for some time now, listening to the team talk about the season while all you can think about is taking this dress off later. They get called over to a different table to talk with some sponsors and you take the alone time to scroll through your phone. You’re just about ready to go and see if there’s anything here other than champagne when you hear him speak from behind you and that all too familiar ache blooms in your chest.
“Is this seat taken?” 
1K notes · View notes
avatarchic · 10 months ago
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TWENTY-SIX MONTHS
Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side.
— starring. baby daddy!todoroki shoto x fem!reader
— tags. miscommunication trope, angst, pregnancy and giving birth, friends with benefits, vague relationships, running away, slight single parent!au
— warnings. ages are unmentioned, but shoto is in his late 20s/early 30s, smut, soft sex, cunnilingus, praise, p in v, use of petnames (baby, pretty girl), reader gets called a good girl once, shoto is highkey a munch
— word count. 8.2k
— requested? no
— notes. this one ruined me tbh LOL i have a nasty habit of slipping btw present and past tense so the tenses in this one might be all over the place :')))
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Whatever you and Todoroki Shoto had together, you knew it wasn’t romantic.
You were his outlet. His source of relaxation when being a hero became too much to bear on his shoulders alone. You were fantastical. You were illusionary. With you, he was no longer Pro Hero Shoto, Number Three Hero. With you, he was just Shoto. And for your moments away from the world hidden beneath wrinkled sheets and closed curtains, that was enough for him. When morning came, and those curtains had to be drawn, he would become Pro Hero Shoto again, and you would wake up to an empty bed.
For you, he was everything.
For you, he was your hero before he became a Pro. He saved you from succumbing to the stress of standing out to survive as a support class student. He saved you from your insecurities and false ambitions, and he saved you from living a life you didn’t truly want. Todoroki Shoto was your best friend before he became the man shrouded in shadow — the man you hid away in secrecy to bed whenever he wanted.
He told you he would be gone for a while. A mission in upper Kyoto that took him away from your arms while you stayed safe in Tokyo. He assured you that he would be fine and return to you as soon as possible. If you were a fool, you might’ve taken those to heart and swooned under the pretense of love. But you knew better.
Before Todoroki Shoto came Pro Hero Shoto. You would be a fool to think he would pick the first before the other. You would be a fool to think that you, a citizen with no name, could ever stand by his side. In your eyes, Shoto put his work before himself. Admirable, strong, ever-the-reliable Pro Hero Shoto. The nights he spent with you as just Shoto made you wonder who else got to see his true self.
The second month of his absence came, and you were sick. An illness had overtaken you, leaving you bedridden for days on end. At first, it had just been nausea. You put it off as motion sickness — you often had to take the train to and from anywhere. Perhaps your stomach had simply met its limit and was taking it out on you with lashes of sickness and vomiting.
After a week of being washed away in your bile, you realized that you had yet to bleed that month. Rather, you realized you hadn’t had your monthly bleeding for a while. You weren’t stupid. You knew what it all meant, and you knew the consequences of your actions had finally caught up to you. You hid away from the world, only leaving to purchase tests from the store.
The answers mocked you. PREGNANT. TWO MONTHS+.
You considered getting rid of it. To keep it your dirty little secret. Shoto would never have to know — no one would ever have to know. But as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, your hand resting atop your stomach, you felt at peace for once. As if you finally had a reason to keep going.
Five months had passed since he was gone, and you felt it now more than ever. You never explained to any of your friends or neighbours who was responsible for the swelling of your tummy, nor about the packages of furniture fit for a nursery that showed up on your doorstep. They never asked. No one knew your trysts with Shoto, and you planned to keep it that way.
For his sake.
You wished. You desperately wished that he could stay by your side, that he could support you through this time of anxiety and worry. You daydreamed of welcoming him home, your little bundle of joy wrapped in your arms as you kissed Shoto on the cheek — a reward for working hard as he always did. You thought about spending more than just nights of pleasure with the two-toned man, about wearing his ring and raising your beloved child together.
As a family.
Thirteen months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.
Thirteen long, gruelling, and lonely months were spent mourning his absence, even though he was still alive somewhere. It felt like the clouds that followed you for weeks parted only when your son was born. He looked like you. He had your nose and your eyes. He had the same rounded cheeks you still adorn, even well into adulthood. His voice was like bells on a clear sunny day, and when he lay in your arms, you declared that you would love him for all you were worth.
Even if the tuft of red and white on his head brought you immense heartache.
A selfish part of you wished that nothing of your son, whom you’ve named Yami, would resemble his father. That way, you could truly hide his origins — your past that you refused to uncover. But the bigger part of you was overjoyed. The moment you laid eyes on his hair, matted down with blood and amniotic fluid, you sobbed uncontrollably. The nurses and midwife recognized the two-toned hair immediately and watched you with pitiful eyes as you clutched Yami to your chest.
You moved away the second you were discharged from the hospital, baby carrier in tow. You wished your neighbours well and thanked them for being so kind to you in the years you lived among them. You were gone within that same week.
You lived peacefully in your new home, tucked away in the countryside of southern Japan. You opted to stay away from TVs and the internet, worried that seeing his face might make you regret the rash decision to pick up and leave. Yami was growing quickly, already large for a four-month-old. His hair grew out, more red than white. 
You didn’t know if Shoto had made it back from his mission. If he did, you weren’t sure how long he had been back or whether he had sustained any injuries. You didn’t know if he went to your apartment to search for his fantasy. You didn’t know if he thought of you at all.
You didn’t know if he was alive.
The longer you spent away from the man, the more your heart yearned for him. Whenever Yami would quiet down for his nap, you stared out the window at the acres of empty farmland. In the vastness of space, you could only think of him. The man who had taken your heart from the tender age of fifteen. The man who possessed your life in his hands, though your essence seemed invisible to those blue and grey eyes. 
The fool in you wondered if he ever had feelings for you — if he ever burned for you the way you did for him. 
You felt like a dessert. Scorched inside and empty. Golden sands represented him—burning to the touch and yet all-encompassing. Even without him by your side, he was always there. He surrounded you, dragging you in, and you let him.
Yami’s babbling would always break you out of your reverie, the pangs of guilt and sorrow gnawing away at your still-beating heart. The routine remained the same, day after day. After he woke up from his nap with an incoherent cry for his mother, you would settle him onto your lap and cry. You sobbed into his soft tufts of hair, apologizing for taking him away from his father, for hiding him away from the world just because you were a coward.
Yami was your darkness. He was your uncovered secret. 
Two years and two months had passed since you last saw Todoroki Shoto.
Yami was seventeen months old and starting to look more and more like his father. He took his first steps earlier than any parenting book had told you he would, and it wasn’t long after when he said his first word. It seemed the world was against you, and the universe was punishing you for keeping Yami away. You broke down for the first time in a while when that first word hit your ears.
“Da… Dada…”
You weren’t alone in your silent, unspoken wishes to be at Shoto’s side. Poor Yami, who had never met his father, spoke Shoto into existence with that one word.
“My baby,” you sobbed, hugging Yami tightly to you as he babbled, repeating those two syllables over and over. “My poor baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Mommy’s so sorry, my baby…” You rocked back and forth, crying endlessly. Yami’s hands grasped at your clothes, hair, and face. His little round features twisted into a grimacing cry as he watched tears pour from your tired eyes for a reason he didn’t yet understand.
The day he spoke his first word was when you showed him a picture of his father for the first time. Recognition flashed behind rounded eyes, recognition for a man he’d never met.
While you were grocery shopping — Yami balanced on your hip, a paper bag full of produce in the other arm — you heard Shoto’s name.
“Didn’t you hear? Pro Hero Shoto is here! In town!”
“Isn’t that weird? Why would such a hotshot be here, of all places? We aren’t even on most maps…”
“Who cares?! Do ya think I can get an autograph?”
You break out into a run without paying attention to the rest of the conversation. You hold Yami to your chest, supporting his head as you run with all your might. The paper bag of fruit and vegetables lay forgotten behind you, surely to be crushed by any passing vehicles. You run until you can’t run anymore, chest heaving in exhaustion. Using your object manipulation quirk, you open the front door to your house without taking your hands off Yami.
You whisper sweetings into his ear, telling him everything would be okay. Maybe you were telling yourself.
Not long after you returned home, the door rattled with a gentle knock. The very door you locked moments ago. You hold your breath, not wanting to see anyone. You didn’t want to see him.
Your name was spoken in that soft voice you missed so much. Before you could stop him, Yami started sobbing, his high-pitched cries alerting the person outside that you were there. You shush Yami desperately, rocking him back and forth in an attempt to calm him down. You kiss his forehead, silently begging him to stop crying.
Your name was called out again, this time panicked and louder. Yami’s cries increase in volume, and you feel your eyes water all the same.
The door hinges begin to frost over, and it’s knocked down in seconds. The loud noise scares your son, causing him to sob uncontrollably as he grasps painfully at your hair. You hide him behind you as you face the intruder head-on. Without blinking an eye, you use your quirk to lift the door off the ground, pushing it against the intruder, hoping to push him out completely.
The door is pushed away easily. After all, you are no match for Pro Hero Shoto.
He has gotten larger in the twenty-six months since you last saw him. His shoulders grew broader, his hero uniform barely hiding the dense but lean muscle that hid beneath it. His hair was longer, falling into his eyes as if he didn’t have time to take care of it. The man in front of you looks different from the man you knew, but it is undoubtedly him.
He breathes out your name, steam rolling off his left side and icicles glistening atop his skin on his right. He steps over the forgotten door, into your house, and into your safe haven, large and commanding of your attention. You try to make yourself bigger, to hide Yami from his eyes, and perhaps to hide your shame as you stare at the father of your child.
“I looked for you everywhere,” he gravels, his voice deep and crackling with emotion. “I came home, and you were gone. Do you have any idea how fucking scary that was?! No one knew where you were, and your apartment was empty. I didn’t know if you were safe, I didn’t know if you were alone…” Shoto steps closer to you, anger seeping into his expression. “For fuck’s sake, I didn’t know if you were alive!”
Your heart hammers in your chest as he grows closer, his fists clenching angrily by his side. His eyes search you desperately, searching for any sign of injury or abuse. They trace over your wrists and ankles, perhaps looking for signs that you were held here not on your own will, that you didn’t leave him just because you wanted to.
You pick your brain for the right words to say. You have thought about this day for years, and now that he’s in front of you, you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess of shame and joy, your heart struggling in a fight against itself. Analyzing him, your eyes rake over his body. There were a few more scars you don’t remember, some fine lines on his face that weren’t there before, but it was him.
As your brain wraps around the fact that Shoto was really there after over two years, Shoto collapses to his knees in front of you. He all but crawls over to you as he shoves his face into your thighs. Hot, stinging tears hit your skin as he cries into your lap, his hands reaching to hold you. Large, calloused fingers grasped at your thighs, pulling you closer to him.
“I was so scared,” he admits, his body shaking as he cries silently. “I thought… I thought a villain had taken you.”
Your hands hover behind you, keeping Yami hidden. His cries have thankfully subsided the second Shoto entered the room, but you weren’t sure for how long that would last. You can feel him grabbing at your shirt, trying to peek around you. Resisting the urge to wipe away Shoto’s tears, you grip onto your son tightly.
“How did you know I was here?” You lick your dry lips, wincing at how raspy your voice is. The first words spoken to this man in over two years are painted over with wariness and caution, very unlike the words of encouragement and longing you had given him your last night together. “No one knew I was here. Not even my family, so how did you…” You trail off, unsure if you want to know the answer to this question.
Shoto pulls away from your lap, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. “I searched for you every day. I never stopped once I realized you were gone. I was in communication with every hero in this fucking country, hoping that one day one of them would spot you.” He hastily wipes his cheeks, his trembling hands remaining at your side.
“Why did you go?” he asks in a whisper. His voice, low and cracking, is broken as he speaks. “Why did you leave me? Did I do something? Was I…” Shoto swallows thickly as his insecurities taint his mind. “Was I not good to you? Did I make you leave?”
His endless questions send you for a loop. In front of you was not Pro Hero Shoto, but just Shoto. Your Shoto, the one you long for in your dreams. The one who paints your every happy memory and the one whose name you whisper into the dead of night.
And yet, as you feel Yami’s tiny hands grab your arm, you can’t answer any of his questions.
“Dada…!”
The both of you freeze, and the world stands still for a moment. Shoto’s trembling gaze slowly left yours, meeting the eyes of the toddler behind you. The first thing Shoto notices is his hair — bright red with streaks of white bleeding through. He feels his heart stop and start again, his hold on you finally slipping as his body goes somewhat limp. He falls back onto his heels, fully kneeling before you now.
Snapping out of it, you turn around and take Yami into your arms, facing away from Shoto as you shush the poor baby, calming him down quietly. Shoto can only watch as you handle him with a gentle care he isn’t privy to.
Without sparing another glance at Shoto, you start to walk away. He calls out your name hastily, and you can hear him clamber to his feet. Swallowing harshly, you look at him over your shoulder. Shoto looks out of place in your cozy living room, too large for the space. And yet, he appears small. His shoulders are hunched in as he reaches out to you with a face that begs you not to leave.
“He… needs to be put down for his nap,” you whisper, kissing Yami’s temple. “We… can talk after.”
Before you can regret your words, you head into his nursery, painted a soft yellow. You coo at your son, gently resting him in the large crib that took up most of the room’s space. You hum a lullaby to him as you stroke his hair, looking down at him with nothing but love.
Even long after he fell asleep, you don’t move. You stay there for a while, watching Yami so closely you don’t notice the presence at the door.
Shoto’s voice comes in a whisper. “He… He is mine, isn’t he?”
You can only nod, shame filling your soul as tears slip from your watery eyes. “His name is Yami,” you speak, your voice cracking.
Shoto flinches but waits patiently as he watches you come to a stand. He doesn’t rush you as you place Yami’s favourite stuffed animals by his side, leaning down and kissing his forehead before approaching Shoto.
“Let’s talk in my room,” you whisper, glancing at Yami before shutting the door behind you. 
The two of you enter your room, the stifling air suffocating you as you shuffle over to your bed. Shaky hands reach for your pillows as you keep your back to the Todoroki, fluffing them to keep yourself busy. Your throat feels grating as you swallow down harshly. The room feels both hot and freezing, which you assume is his doing.
He doesn’t say anything either as he stares at the back of your head. Your hair looks different from the last time he saw you, and the clothes over your body aren’t articles he can remember you own. He thinks back to that night when quiet goodbyes were whispered between sweaty sheets. He wonders what went wrong.
His eyes wander, his frightful gaze tearing away from you only to look around your room. There are remnants of you everywhere. Family pictures hang from the walls, and old posters he vaguely remembers from your apartment are pasted against grey paint. It was you, but different. It wasn’t as colourful as your old room, and your trinkets are either out of sight or gone altogether.
When his eyes rest on you once more, a million questions run through his mind. Why did you leave him without a word? Images of your child, the very one who bore a striking resemblance to himself, flash in the forefront of his mind.
“How have you been?” you croak out after too many beats of silence. Hugging a pillow to your chest, you turn ever so slightly, only glancing at him from the corner of your eye as if it were painful to even look at him. Perhaps it is. 
Shoto can only stare at you in disbelief, his brows curling upward as his heartache shines through. “How have I been?” he repeats breathily, his low voice raising half an octave. His mouth opens, but the words die on his tongue. Only after an excruciatingly long moment does he find the words again. “I’ve been miserable. You were gone.”
You wince at the strain in his voice, gripping the pillow even tighter. Your knuckles whiten under your tight hold. “I’m sorry,” you whisper pathetically, swallowing the lump in your throat painfully.
“Why?” he asks again, his voice cracking as he takes a tentative step toward you. “Why did you disappear?” Shoto reaches for you, stopping just short of grabbing you by the shoulders. He can’t tell if he wants to shake you until you see sense or hug you and never let go.
“I had to,” you urge, finally meeting his eyes. Your breath hitches, and you regret turning to him, but now you can’t look away. Those mismatched eyes that used to bore into yours with unreadable emotion as he draped his body over yours were tired, dull, and pained.
Shoto is the first to break eye contact, staring at your floorboards as he attempts to string together his thoughts. “Was it me?”
With furrowed brows, you shake your head no. “Shoto—”
“If I knew,” he rushes out, interrupting you. His gaze drops to your stomach, and he imagines what you might’ve looked like, swollen with his child.  “If I knew, I would’ve come back sooner. Fuck the mission, you needed me and I…” He cuts himself off, bringing his hands up to your shoulders. His grip is tight enough to force you to look at him straight on, yet gentle. You think you can feel them trembling over your clothes, but you aren’t sure if you’re imagining it or not. “I’m so sorry,” he almost cries. The pillow in your hands falls to the carpeted floor, but neither of you cares to pay attention to it.
“Shoto, no,” you whisper, cupping his cheeks as you press your lips together. You thumb away his unshed tears. “That’s not why I left.”
“Then why?” he breathes.
You purse your lips, biting at the inside of your cheek as you reflect on those lonely nights spent under cold blankets. “You’re a hero,” you speak slowly. “I never had a place in your life, Shoto, not really. I’m a nobody. If… If I stayed, I would have been holding you back. You deserved more than that.”
Shoto narrows his eyes at you. “I deserve you,” he blurts, his tongue stained with vexation at the mere implication of your words. You watch as his lower lip wobbles momentarily before he steels his expression. “It isn’t your place to decide whether or not you should be in my life. That’s something for me to decide, but you took that away from me.”
“Took what away, Shoto?” you exclaim, raising your voice for the first time that day. “The sex? The comradery? You could have easily found that in someone else.” It hurts to admit, but you know it’s true. During those days together, you were a mere placeholder for someone better than you. Someone who could relate to him more than a nobody civilian could ever hope to.
After all, Pro Hero Shoto could have anyone he wanted.
Any anger left in his body dissipates as his body tenses. His face scrunches into something painful, mouth ajar and eyes wide as his grip on your shoulders tightens slightly. “What?” he whispers, the word dripping from his tongue like ice water. “What are you talking about?” The room feels like it’s dropped a few degrees, and if the frost that clings to his skin is any indication, it might have.
Averting your gaze, you try to wedge yourself out of his tight hold, but he doesn’t let you, taking another step forward. You’re practically chest-to-chest as he shakes your shoulders gently. “What are you talking about?” he repeats with an urgent tongue. “Someone else? What are you talking about?”
You heave a sigh. “Don’t play dumb, Shoto. You’re… you. You could easily find someone to replace me.”
“Is that what you think?” he breathes harshly, steam rolling off his skin, melting the frost. “That you’re just some replaceable body in my bed? Do you really think that lowly of me?” His expression twists as he reaches up to cup your jaw. His touch is burning, and yet you find yourself leaning into his palm.
“Isn’t it the truth?” you murmur, your voice catching. “I’m not anyone special, Shoto.”
“You’re my girlfriend,” he spits out, angry at the notion that you were a nobody. “You’re special to me. Isn’t that all that matters? I couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re not a hero. That never mattered to me, so don’t give me that bullshit.”
Your eyes snap open as you stare at Shoto in shock. You feel your body freeze over, and suddenly, your lungs are empty. “... What did you call me?” you croak.
Shoto stares deeply into your eyes, his own darting back and forth as he tries to read you. “My girlfriend.” His voice wavers as he tries to understand why you look so confused.
“We weren’t dating,” you cry incredulously. “What are you talking about?” You watch Shoto as realization washes over his distraught expression and something within you cracks. “Shoto, what are you talking about?” you ask again with a frantic pull to your voice. Shoto’s hands slip from your shoulders.
“Weren’t we?” he whispers quietly, any strength sapping from his body as he limply stands before you.
With your heart beating faster than ever, your breath leaves chapped lips in uneven puffs of strangled air. “We never talked about being anything more than just…” You trail off, the past couple of years draping over your shoulders, weighing you down heavily.
“You thought I was with you for the sex?” Shoto doesn’t know how to feel or how to act. His face twists as several emotions run through him before his mind settles on heartache. His multicoloured eyes try to meet yours, but you’ve already looked away. He moves his body, craning his neck to take a good look at you. He wants to see you. He wants you to see him. He utters your name in a broken whisper. “It was never just sex for me, baby,” he declares, his voice cracking in sorrow. “You had to have known that.”
He moves closer, cradling your face as he gently forces you to look at him. When he sees the indecisive glaze that’s taken over your eyes, he feels his heart break just a little more. “Please tell me you knew. That you know it was more than that.”
You blink away tears, your chest rising and falling quickly as you meet his intensive gaze. “You’d only come to me at night,” you mutter, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and wanting to pull his hands off of you. “You never stayed. You were always gone in the morning, Shoto. What was I supposed to believe?”
Shoto fights back a wince as he mulls over your words. He sighs, absentmindedly rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. “I was so busy with hero work,” he murmurs in horror-filled realization, frowning at himself. He shakes his head, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes. “That’s not an excuse. I should have tried harder to be around. But it was never just sex for me.”
His throat bobs as he swallows thickly, his forehead coming down to rest against yours. His eyes flutter closed, wet eyelashes sticking together as he lets out a trembling breath. “Please believe me, baby,” he pleads quietly. “I’ll be better. I’ll show you I love you. I’ll make sure you know this time, so please…”
Those three words pull the air from your lungs, but when he opens his eyes, you’re left truly breathless. Love, sorrow, and regret swirl in his blue and grey hues. You don’t remember the last time you’ve looked at Shoto like this. “Please come back to me.”
“Shoto—”
“I’ll stop being a hero,” he interrupts you, a deep frown tugging at his lips. “If that’s what it takes.”
You make a face, your brows knitting together tightly. “Don’t be stupid, Shoto,” you hush. “Being a hero is your life. I’d never ask you to throw that away for me.”
“You’re my life,” he presses. One of Shoto’s hands moves to cup the back of your head, carding through your hair. “Our child will be my life. You matter more to me than anything else.”
Sighing, you close your eyes as you lean into his touch. “I’d be even more upset if you gave up,” you murmur. “I understand that being a hero leaves you with little free time. So—”
“No,” Shoto cries out. “Don’t make excuses for me. I should’ve tried harder. I should have realized things between us weren’t clear.” He pauses for a moment, his brow bone tensing as he bites at his lip. “Do you love me?”
With a softened gaze, you knock on his forehead with a weak fist. “You’ve always been it for me, Sho.”
Shoto smiles at the nickname, a slight tick of the corner of his mouth. If you hadn’t been so close and hadn’t known his expressions as well as you did, you might’ve missed it. He leans closer, his nose brushing against your cheek as he kisses your tear-stained skin sweetly. “I love you,” he hushes, tugging you closer. His fingertips trail up your spine until they’re entwined in your hair. “I love you.”
A shiver runs down your spine at the sensation as you curl into him. Your hands trail up his broad chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. Inhaling deeply, you stare at him in hesitation. “Is this real?” you murmur, your mind swirling with the vivid dreams you’ve procured over the years. “You’re really here, right? And you really…”
“I love you,” he says again. He says it one, two, three more times, whispering into the side of your neck and he nudges himself into the empty space. His lips, which are cold against your blistering heat, brush against your earlobe as he all but whimpers your name. “This is real. I’m here, baby.”
You can’t help but believe him, your eyes closing as he presses kiss after kiss on your skin, moving down your neck until he’s reached your collarbones. He nips at the spot, his tongue jutting out to soothe the darkening mark he’s left behind. “Sho,” you scold weakly, your nails scraping against his scalp gently as you brush his hair out of his face.
Shoto grins boyishly at you, his hands resting on your hips as he guides you backwards, stepping over the forgotten pillow you dropped. “Let me show you,” he breathes out, looking down at you with wide eyes until he has you sat on the edge of your unmade bed. “Let me show you how much I love you.”
Then, he pauses, a brief flash of bashfulness flickering behind his embering gaze. “Please?”
You’re reaching out for him before you can answer, tugging him down to your height. You don’t reply with words, pressing desperate lips against his as you pull him over you until he’s pinned over your trembling body. Strong forearms rest beside your head, his skillful tongue swiping along the seam of your mouth. You almost moan at his taste—a taste you never forgot.
Shoto slants himself against you, your bodies resembling a mess of limbs. He flips you over with ease, strong hands gripping your hips to seat you atop his shaking lap. The shivers that run down the expanse of his body don’t go unnoticed, and you peck his lips once, then twice, before pulling away. He’s staring up at you breathlessly, lust-blown eyes dark but widened as he takes in the sight of you.
“Are you okay?” you whisper, stroking along the edge of his scar. Shoto leans into your palm, his eyes briefly fluttering closed, relishing in your warmth that he was deprived of for so long.
“I’m okay,” he murmurs back, brushing his lips against your palm. “I’ve just missed you so much.”
Your heart aches at his soft-spoken admission, and you kiss him again to tell him I missed you, too. This kiss is sweeter than the last, softer in its closed-mouth motions. His hand reaches up to palm your jawline, his other remaining on your hip. He sighs into you, breaking the kiss to leave fleeting pecks over your cheeks. “My pretty girl,” he whispers into your skin.
His hand trails up and down your side, as he gently pushes you against his growing erection. You let out a whimper at just how hard he already is, the tent pushing against your clothed cunt teasingly. Grinding your hips down, you relish in the gasp Shoto lets out. Busying his hands with the hem of your loose tee, he pushes himself off of the bed to chase your lips.
Shoto kisses you with a fervour you damned yourself for running away from. He kisses you like he needs your taste on his tongue to live, like you’re a lifeline, and he’s teetering on the edge. Gentle teeth scrape against your bottom lip, just barely grazing your swollen skin. Pulling away to rid you of your top, Shoto bites his lips at the sight of your bare chest. He lays back, propping his head up on your pillows. Tracing a hand down his strong pecs, you tilt your head back at the sight of his complete enamour.
Red cheeks hollow as he takes in a shuddering breath, looking up at you with nothing but love and adoration. “You’re perfect,” he breathes out, his hands tracing your sides so slowly. His thumbs, calloused from years of hero work, barely graze the underside of your breasts before his hands trail back down to your thighs.
“Take these off f’me,” Shoto urges, tugging gently on the fabric of your shorts. Those dark eyes never leave your face, as though he’s committing it to memory. 
You don’t hesitate to obey his request, shifting off of his lap just enough to tug off the last of your clothing, fingers dipping beneath the band of your panties to take them off as well. Shivering, you sit back down on his lap, biting down on your bottom lip as you lean back. Shoto makes it clear how much he appreciates the view you’ve given him, his lustful gaze caressing your entire self. His eyes land on the apex of your thighs, and his bitten lips part in admiration.
A wide hand rests on your tummy, just below your belly button, as he gently pushes your hips back and forth. His other hand finds its way to your ass, gripping and rubbing the skin there in tandem with your movements. 
You let out shallow breaths at the feeling of his rough jeans against your bare clit. You’re sure you’re sopping wet already, soaking the front of his pants with your slick, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when he’s looking at you like he’d cry if you stopped grinding down on him.
His eyes stay glued to where your hips meet, and he whispers your name lovingly. “C’mere,” he rasps out as he sits up with haste, wrapping those big arms around your midsection and pulling you even closer to him. Shoto kisses the tops of your breasts, moving up and up until his lips meet yours again in a searing kiss. 
“Missed you s’much,” he gravels out against your lips, reaching up to cup your left tit. You whimper out when his thumb brushes against the hardened bud, his tongue following shortly after. His lips curl around your nipple as he kneads into you. Breaths leave your throat in shortened huffs as he bites down gently. 
Pushing you gently, you find yourself on your back again with Shoto hovering over you. He lets go of your nipple with a pop, lips shiny with saliva as he kisses down your stomach. Arching into his affections, all you can do is lay there and bask in his gentle touches and sweet kisses.
“Sho,” you whimper out when he mouths your skin lower and lower. Strong hands push your hips up until your dripping cunt is in front of his face, and your legs are dangling over his shoulders. Your back arches deeply, his fingers digging into your sides to keep your bottom half suspended in the air. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten—you can’t recall the last time you’ve felt this aroused. “Please…”
Shoto smiles at you softly, looking at you through his lashes as he brushes his lips against your clit, making you jolt. “Patience, baby,” he chuckled. “I haven’t tasted your sweet pussy in too long. Let me take my time with you, yeah?”
When he asks so nicely, how can you refuse?
He leaves open-mouthed kisses where your inner thigh meets your pelvis, kissing and licking just around where you need him most. Pathetic moans slip through your wobbling lips as you press them together, trying not to be too loud. Your body is goo in his hands, and he knows this well. He easily keeps your back arched up off the bed, his beefy arms not straining at all.
When his lips finally close on your weeping cunny, you cry out louder than intended. “Shh,” he whispers, sitting back just far enough to leave you whimpering for more. “Don’t wanna wake the baby, do you?” Those teasing eyes meet yours again, and his teasing expression softens ever so slightly at your already fucked out look. “Be good and quiet f’me, love.”
“Okay,” you stammer out, screwing your eyes shut when he kitten licks at your slit.
Shoto kisses your inner thigh with a grin. “Good girl.”
Without missing a beat, he attaches his lips to your pussy once more, his skilled tongue licking and prodding exactly where he knows it makes your legs shake in pleasure. He eats you out with such expertise as if it hasn’t been over two years. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had a map of your body memorized.
Long, thick fingers push at your entrance, just barely pushing in before pulling out. “More, please,” you beg under your breath, arching into his mouth. “Please, Sho. I can take it.”
Shoto hums as he sucks on your clit gently, drawing circles over the bundle of nerves immediately after. “I know you can, baby. This pussy was made just for me,” he sighs into you, the loud slurping noises coming from the point of contact making you curl in on yourself. “You were made just for me, baby.”
He finally pushes two fingers in, curling up just how you like it. He groans as his tongue moves with ardour, his eyes rolling back behind closed lids as he savours your taste. “Fuck,” he mumbles. “Missed this s’much.” 
Shoto’s fingers push in and out, in and out, your slick gushing around them as the filthy sound of your clenching cunt fills the room. His lips are glued to your clit, drunk on your wetness as he fingers you deeply. 
“I’m close,” you warn him, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body jerks, your thighs shaking and closing around his head as you feel the string in your tummy grow taught. “Sho—”
“I know,” he growls, kissing your clit again as he looks back up at you. He watches your face twist and scrunch in pure pleasure, moaning at the sight. Pushing a third finger in, his eyes slip closed at the feeling of you clenching tightly around him. “Come for me, baby. Need to feel you come.”
His voice drips with honey, coating your body in its warmth as your back bends. “Fuck,” you cry, slapping a hand over your mouth as your thighs tremble hard. “I—”
Before you can say anything else, you’re cumming around his fingers harder than you ever have in the time away from him. Fat tears line your lashline as he fingers you through your orgasm, lazily licking figure eights around your clit as he continues to push his fingers into you gently. He doesn’t stop, making you come again and again until you’re weakly pushing his head away.
His tongue laps your pussy clean, the lower half of his face covered in your slick when he finally sits back. You watch with lidded eyes as he wraps his lips around his fingers, his tongue jutting out to lick them until they’re no longer soaked with your essence. Moaning, you reach up for him, grasping weakly at his clothed chest. “Need you,” you plea, pushing at his clothes in a sad attempt to take them off.
Shoto only chuckles, leaning over to kiss you. He tastes of mint and musk, the taste of your come on his tongue making your eyes cross. He holds you tight, pressing you against his chest, and his hands run up and down the length of your spine. His head tilts, his mouth ajar as he licks into your wet cavern. 
Leaning back, you kiss and lick at his face, cleaning him of your juices. He only sighs blissfully at your ministrations, stroking your hair out of your face as he presses his lips against your temple. “I love you,” he murmurs. “God, do I love you.”
You leave one more kiss along his jaw, settling back onto the mattress as you look up at him. His hair is messy, tousled from the many breathless kisses you’ve exchanged in the last hour. His rouge-tinted cheeks make him look younger than he is, yet you can see fine lines at the corners of his eyes and between his brows. 
“I love you, Sho,” you declare softly, tucking his long bangs behind his ears. He gazes at you with more affection than you think you’ve ever seen him express, and it takes everything in you not to combust on the spot. You trail one hand down his chest, dropping down to his tented pants. Palming his clothed hardness, you glance at him pleadingly, smiling at the moan he emits the second your hand grazes his hard-on. “I need you now, please.”
Shoto nods, kissing the crown of your head before leaning back. You watch with careful eyes as he undresses, his hands moving with less grace than he’s known for. As he fumbles off his shirt, you unbuckle his belt, throwing it haphazardly across the room. You barely register the thud it makes as you tug down his pants. His hard cock slaps against his abdomen, coated with precum. 
Fully nude, you sit back to admire Shoto in his entirety. There are many scars you don’t remember littered over his muscled body, and your fingers trace them gently. “I almost forgot how pretty you are,” you say, sitting up to kiss his collarbone.
“Pretty?” he repeats, laughing softly as he grips at your waist.
You hum. “Very pretty, Sho.” 
Unable to wait any longer, he manoeuvres you back onto the pillows, adjusting you as he places one beneath your hips. “Gotta have you now, baby,” he groans into you, reaching down to fuck into his fist. You watch with wide eyes as he rubs himself for a moment more, pushing your thighs up against your chest. 
Pushing his angry cockhead against your slit, he thrusts shallowly against your soaked pussy. A low moan rumbles out of his throat when his head catches on the hood of your clit. He uses a thumb to guide his length to your entrance, a whimper of your name tumbling from those bite-swollen lips once he finally pushes into you.
Your jaw drops as a wanton noise claws out of your throat. Shoto is sure to move slowly, only moving in an inch of his dick at a time before pulling out. You had forgotten how thick Shoto’s cock is, the stretch of your swollen pussy around his length burning through your body. “S-Sho…”
He groans at your voice, dropping his head to your shoulder as he fucks into you slowly. “I know, baby,” he lets out breathlessly. “I know. You’re doing so well f’me.” 
His hips finally press against you after some time, his dick pushing against your pulsing gummy walls. He stills, letting you get used to the intrusion as he kisses you again and again. Propping himself on his elbows, he shakily brushes your hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. “You okay, baby?”
Nodding fervently, you wrap your arms around his neck, pushing his chest flush against yours. “Yeah.” Your voice comes out weakly, barely above a whisper. “You can move—” correcting yourself, you look up at him with pleading eyes. “—please move.”
Without another word, he pulls out slowly, only to thrust back into your hole nice and deep. A loud groan leaves his lips as he settles into a quick tempo, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he starts to really fuck into you. 
Barely keeping your eyes open, you watch his expression twist with gratification, his brows tilting upwards as his lips part. With lidded eyes, he watches you, too. “You’re—fuck—so pretty,” he whimpers, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become faster. “Missed you. Missed you s’much.”
Sitting up, he grabs at your waist as he fucks you zealously. His thumb flicks at your clit, rubbing tight circles that leave your legs shaking. His cockhead rubs at that spongey spot in your cunt with every thrust, making your eyes roll back. “Sho,” you cry out, the thought of keeping your voice down long gone in your pleasure. “Sho, Sho—!”
His mouth opens as he lets out a stunted shout riddled with lust and overstimulation. “You’re so fucking tight,” he grins down at you, his stomach flexing with each movement of his hips. “Fuck, baby. Can feel you clenching around me s’tight. Are you close?” His words come out harshly, exertion tugging them from his throat sluggishly.
His thumb never stops over your clit, moving in tandem with his hips as he slams into you. Unable to form coherent words, you can only cry out in vague confirmation, grabbing at his forearms. You can feel your slick dripping down the slope of your ass, soaking into your pillow and the sheets beneath you. 
Shoto’s smile falters as he feels his own orgasm near, his rhythm becoming desperate as his eyes screwed shut. His head drops, his mouth opening slightly as he chases his high. When your cunt grips tightly around him, he’s sure he’s going to lose it. Harsh breaths heave out of him, his flushed skin causing his hair to stick to his forehead. 
“Come for me again, baby,” he begs, barely able to pry his lids open to look down at you. “Please, come, please, please… Gotta feel you…!”
Whether it’s from his words, the whimpering tone that tugs at his voice, or the way his cock throbs inside you as he nears his own high, you feel your orgasm crash over you in waves. “Shoto,” you sob, your body jerking violently as you come hard. He lets out a high-pitched groan as he releases inside you, his thick seed filling you up in seconds. His hips tremble and twitch as he keeps shallowly thrusting, pushing both you and himself into overstimulation.
“I love you,” he mewls, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss as he wraps his arms tightly around your middle. Without pulling out, he slumps over you, knocking the air out of your lungs.
Laughing quietly, you weakly push at his shoulder. “You’re heavy,” you complain, still breathless from the countless orgasms he’s pulled you through. “Get off, Sho.”
“No,” he murmurs into the nape of your neck, cuddling into you tightly. “Don’t wanna let go.”
You roll your eyes. “You can hug me without crushing my ribs.”
Huffing, he rolls off of you, taking you with him as he lands on his back. You both groan lowly at the movement, his dick twitching inside you once you settle onto his lap again. “You’re insatiable,” you comment, feeling him thrust weakly up into your wetness.
Shoto only grins up at you, showing off that rare smile you missed so dearly. “You can’t blame me,” he tells you, wrapping his arms around you. “I have so many years of love to show you.” He kisses your shoulder. “I meant it. Before, I mean. You are everything to me, and I know our baby will be too.”
Your eyes wet again, fresh tears bubbling at the corners before dribbling down your cheeks. “Shoto…”
Looking up at you, he stares with an indescribable look in his mismatched eyes. “I wanna be in your life. I want to be in his life, too, if you’ll let me.” Leaning up, he kisses you sweetly. “So, please, come back to me.”
You only manage to nod tearfully before the shrill cry of your baby echoes throughout the house. Shoto eases you off his messy cock, watching as his release dribbles out of you. He lets out a breath, kissing you sweetly before moving you off of him gently. No words are exchanged as Shoto throws his clothes back on, wrinkled and unkempt. He pauses to wipe you clean, using your shirt, after throwing you an apologetic glance.
A smile reaches your eyes as you watch Shoto bound out of the room to get your child.
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©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.
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redcherrykook · 5 months ago
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──𐙚 see, hyung? - innocence request
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────୨ৎ────
content: 21 yr old JK, getting caught doing it TWICE, "the talk", penetrative sex, oral (fem) voyeurism essentially, Hyung line aka Yoongi and Jin catching them
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"Nhhm kook just like that!" you writhe beneath his touches, soft circles drawn lazyly along your clit with his tongue, he takes his time with it, looking up to you with the round deer eyes that are filled with unspeakable amounts of love,
"pretty baby" he mumbles, drawing his tongue down to your hole before licking back up slowly,
Your boyfriends face is burried deep between your thighs, his soft mouth working wonders against your folds, lapping, sucking deliciously from your soppy entrance to the swollen bundle of your clit over and over again,
Your hands tug on his hair, mindlesly grinding into his face with his mouth in sync, his nose hitting your clit ever so often
"Yeah baby? You taste so good, fuck" he speaks against your cunt, the skin of your thighs squeezed tightly by his hands, spreading them apart as far as you allowed them to
He responds to your moans and trembles by sucking on your clit harder, groaning against you, the small vibrations flow through your whole body, making you shudder with need
Until the door to his studio opens
As he's sitting on the floor, kneeling between the legs of his girlfriend, deep into making you see stars,
His two hyungs, Jin and yoongi, stand wide eyed in the doorway
Both of your heads turn in sync, snapping to the door with the two older men looking traumatized and amused at once,
You squel, closing your thighs in reflex and hiding beneath the shield of your fingers
Unable to tell if jin or you has the redder cheeks, yoongi just laughs, closing the door again
"Have fun kids" he says, but the appeal of your orgasm has long gone, even taking the slightest bit of arousal from you to kiss you goodbye
Jungkook sighs, standing up and carefully helping you dress once again
"M'so sorry 'bout that baby, they have no manners"
You just do your best to reassure him, kissing his head and pushing the thought of what happend as far back into your brain as you can muster up
Your boyfriend on the other hand, did not posess such luxery.
Just when you left, biding your goodbyes to him, his older brothers stand in the doorframe of the livingroom
"What?" the younger sighs, running his hand down his face
"Seriously kook? We need to talk, you can't lose your virginity and all these things without knowing - like- anything!" Jin exclaims, sitting down on the couch with a sore throat, already having exhausted himself just by this one sentence alone
Jungkook sits down across from them, looking at yoongi dumbfounded
"What? Guys i- i know everything?" his head tilts in genuine confusion
Yoongi and Jin share a look of disbelief,
"Sure, yeah. So, do you know like, if you need us to buy condoms or...?" Yoongi says
Kook lets out a frustrated laugh, shaking his head,
"Seriously? I lost my vcard a while ago, guys what is this?" Throwing his hands up, he's ready to leave this conversation.
This time, it's yoongi's turn to laugh,
"Oh shut up, come on, don't be embarrased about it. Let us teach you what you need" he says, crossing his arms over his chest,
"Unbelievable" jungkook mutters, leaving the room for the two elders to sit together in their ignorance
A couple days later, jungkook has you bare on his bed, pounding into your poor little pussy missonary, legs up on his shoulders,
His cock hits deep into your cunt, you make sure to let him know my moaning, whining and scratching his shoulders, leaving enough evidence for his hyungs to find when they see him shirtless lounging around
He holds onto your hips, obsessed with the way your tits bounce with each hard thrust, obsessed with the way you whine and watching his cock sink all the way into your pretty cunt
"Nhmm jungkook!" your eyes are rolled far back into your head, shut entirely and completely lost in the way his cock feels penetrating your walls
He does feel two other pairs of eyes stare,
After all, he left the door open on purpose, desperate to save his ego and proof to his hyungs that , oh, Jungkook knows how to fuck
His eyes avert your body for a split second, taking in the shocked expression of his brothers as they can't do anything but watch,
He decides to take it a step further, taking one of his hands to grope your chest together, fondleing the soft flesh and tugging at your pink, stiff nipples,
"Fuck! So so good!" you stutter again, whimpering with every little one of his touches, your release nearing with every hard thrust of his into your sensitve core
"Yeah? Say it baby, who's making you feel good?" he says, doing the most to get on his hyungs nerves while also getting lost in your pussy wrapped tightly on his cock, clenching around him like you're gonna cum any second now
"You kook you! Jungkook please nhnmm!" your cries get muffled with his lips colliding onto yours messily, spit running down your months and tongues intertwining sinfully,
That's your last straw, the knot bursts and so does Jungkook, making sure to rub your clit soothingly and pulling out after a few more, slow pushes of his hips
"So, uh, you weren't lying" yoongi rasps his throat, his eyes locked on the purple bruises on the youngers neck as well as the scratch marks along his shoulder blade,
He smirks, leaning against the counter "oh really hyung?"
Jin scoffs, "kid, don't be so rude. You did good though, credits to you"
Jungkook rolls his eyes, wrapping his arms around Jin's wide shoulders,
"I know, she told me that too. Oh, wait, you heard us" he says, cheekily winking before running out the kitchen with his eldest hyung chasing after him,
"Jeon jungkook, you're gonna die today!"
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fastandcarlos · 5 months ago
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Leo’s Little Love : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: the birth of your daughter was supposed to be the happiest moment for you and charles, but both of you forgot about leo too
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Your little family had almost been complete for quite some time. You, Charles and Leo. The perfect trio. Why fix something that isn’t broke? Why add to the chaos of your crazy lives? Well, because you both couldn’t wait to become parents. 
It never was meant to be so soon, neither you or Charles had planned to fall pregnant quite so suddenly but your life had always been mayhem, and pregnancy was just another cog to add to the wheel of things that you needed to juggle together.  
It had been touch and go for quite some time as your baby’s arrival loomed. With just two weeks to go Charles had never been happier to see the start of the summer break which meant at last he could be glued to your side and be there just in case anything happened. 
Being at home was something that Charles very quickly got used to, laid out on the sofa with you tucked into his side. Charles didn’t always get his own way though, with Leo snuggled just underneath your bump to block Charles holding onto it. 
“I wonder how he’s going to be.” 
Your attention was pulled from your book when Charles spoke, following his gaze down to where Leo laid, snoring lightly with his eyes tight shut. 
“What do you mean?” You asked him. 
“I’m just thinking about when the baby arrives, do you think Leo will respond well to not being the centre of our attention anymore?” Charles questioned. 
Your eyes flickered between Charles and Leo and your bump as you pondered Charles’ question. Truthfully, it was something that you had never quite thought about before, but if there was one word that you’d use to describe Leo, it was definitely needy.  
“I think he’ll enjoy having someone else to be around,” you spoke after a few moments. 
“He’ll definitely love an extra body to cuddle up to.” 
It was almost as if he knew that you were talking about him, as Leo’s head lifted up and his wide eyes looked at you both as if to remind you that he could hear everything.  
“You know, I’ve got a feeling that Leo and this baby might just end up being the best of friends, I definitely think we’re going to have trouble on our hands.” 
Ever since that conversation you pictured how your family, or especially Leo, would adapt to the baby, counting down the days until all those dream scenarios became a reality.  
And just a couple of weeks later your little girl arrived. It was tougher than you could have ever imagined, but with Charles not leaving your side for the many hours that you were in labour for, your family was soon complete. Charles was an emotional mess beside you, but through his tears he knew that he’d just experienced the best moments of his entire life. 
You might’ve been a little bit bias, but your baby girl was the definition of perfect. Straight away you were drawn to her bright eyes, a striking resemblance to Charles’. They captured your attention, just like Charles’ had done many years ago when the two of you first met.  
And as Charles held her for the first time and you got your first look at the two of them side by side, you knew you had a daddy’s girl on your hands. She was instantly besotted, settled and comfortable in Charles’ strong hold, almost as if you were the one who was intruding on the moment between your husband and your child despite being the one to bring her into the world. 
“It’s a good job we’ve got Leo otherwise I think I’d be outnumbered at home with you two,” you joked as Charles made himself comfortable.  
You knew deep down though you wouldn’t have Leo for long, as the two of you arrived home with your daughter. It had been a couple of days since he got to see you and Charles, unaware that a new arrival was waiting on the other side of the door to greet him too. 
Together you took things slowly as you returned to your apartment, Charles took Leo into your bedroom whilst you settled in the living room with your daughter. Once you were sure that she was settled you called through to Charles who poked his head out from behind the bedroom door. 
“Are you absolutely sure about doing this now?” Charles nervously asked you. 
“Charles, we’re going to have to do it sooner or later. We might as well get it over with whilst they’re both pretty settled.” 
He trusted you more than anyone, and so Charles decided to open the bedroom door and allow Leo to come out. It was as if nothing was going on as if strolled through the apartment, that was until his eye was caught by the carrier that sat on your living room floor. Charles came over and sat beside you, his hand on your thigh as Leo began to inspect. 
Leo had a little sniff around the carrier as he familiarised with the something new that had entered his home. After giving him a moment you reached into the carrier and lifted your daughter out, holding her just in front of where Leo was. 
It took a little while for Leo to stop fussing over your daughter, looking up at you and Charles. His eyes told the two of you that he approved of your little girl, walking away from her once he was happy with what was going on. 
“See, I told you there was nothing to worry about.” 
Your words were truer than ever though that night as Charles laid on your bed with his daughter laid just beside him. You walked through after taking an overdue shower, surprised to see that there was another addition to your bed. They say that three is a crowd, but not in this case. 
Your heart felt like it could burst as your daughter laid between Charles on her left, and Leo on her right, his head almost touching hers as if to reassure her that he was right beside her too. 
Charles’ eyes knew exactly where you were looking. You were supposed to be annoyed that your side of the bed had been stolen, but instead it was a memory that you wanted to snapshot for the rest of your life. 
You were sure that you had never seen anything so beautiful in your life, Leo had made sure your daughter was well protected and surrounded by love. Even Charles couldn’t get as close to her as Leo was, firmly establishing himself as her number one. 
Just like you, Charles couldn’t fault the scene that was unfolding in front of you though. Things had gone better than either of you could have ever imagined, all of the concerns that Charles had had long been forgotten now that your family of four were all home together.  
“Why do I feel like we’re never going to be allowed near our daughter ever again?” Charles laughed across at you. 
“I think out of the three of us, she’s definitely Leo’s love before she’s ours,” you added, unable to wipe the smile from your face. “I think they’re going to be the best of friends.” 
Charles hummed in agreement with you, tilting his head down to watch them both once again. If he could pause time forever, he absolutely would. It was all that he had ever dreamt of, and so much more. 
“We’ve got the two most beautiful children in the world.” 
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
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cheetabites · 19 days ago
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☆彡 cinnamon pt 2 ˳༄꠶
character: kang dae-ho (player 388)
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˳༄꠶ summary: five sfw and nsfw general headcannons for dae-ho
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sfw headcannons
★ he’s a man that knows how to dress himself well. in korea, the importance on appearance is a reinforced by society so lots of people dress good, but i’m telling you that he knows how to keep up appearances - even if his clothes remain casual, all his outfits look good on him; he mainly wears black high waisted dress pants w/ wide pant legs paired with a loose fitting shirt & a cardigan or an oversized hoodie w/ cargo pants
★ he has a sad playlist that he jams out to regularly; even if nothing bad happened. he could be doing the most mundane task - like walking down the streets of korea - and one of the most heartbreaking songs would be blasting out of his earphones
★ he hates needles, and i mean he hates them. sure, he got a tattoo, but if he has to do anything like getting his blood drawn he’ll bolt it out of there - unless you’re there and you hold his hand
★ he’s one of those people that keeps all their app tabs open on their phone. and probably barely has any storage space because of the amount of pictures he has of you and other things; he doesn’t want to delete them because he thinks he’ll forget the moment
★ he’s big on physical touch. there isn’t a moment where he can go on without holding your hand or wrapping his arms around your shoulders from behind. it’s also normal for him to place tiny kisses on your face whenever the opportunity arises
nsfw headcannons
★ loves to tell you how beautiful you are when you please each other. your hair could be messy and sticking to your face, or you’re sweating profusely, but it doesn’t matter. he never wants to think your any less than beautiful
★ he really likes when you ride him; especially when he’s just laying flat - no hands on you or anything - on the bed and you lay your palms flat on his shoulders for support
★ the idea of you just using him for pleasure really gets him off - like if you were stressed and needed to blow of steam so you decide to pin him down and be a little bit mean and condescending while you please him; he usually cries when you guys fuck like that, but it’s always out of pleasure
★ he wouldn’t want to have sex anywhere besides the bedroom. i feel like both of you tried it once in a more public place - like maybe one of your guys’ cars or in a hotel room - but it turned him off so bad that you both agreed to not try that again
★ he’s all for waking you up by eating you out (consensual somnophilia); hearing you gasp as you awake and having you card your fingers through his hair to tug on it, it’s one of the best sights he’d ever witnessed. he usually does this on the days he has to work cause he loves riling you up, but he always makes sure to clean you up before he leaves
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the end! i hope you enjoyed <3!
© cheetabites. don’t translate, claim or repost my works on any platform. jan 3 2025.
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neovillains · 4 days ago
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DEATHBED | PART ONE.
( OLD MAN NEXT DOOR : GOJO SATORU ) the old man next door always seemed so lonely. you thought you were doing him a favor when you offered to spend some time with him. and in some sorts … you were. | watch time: 3.7k words.
── gilf!gojo & fem-bodied!reader, she/her pronouns, neighbors!au, high age gap, slight degredation (belittling), one (1) clit pinch, fingering, cowgirl, unprotected sex, breeding kink, creampie, balls fondling, slight blowjob, etc.
notes. i never knew how much i needed old men jjk men until writing this tbh. it was a trip! anyway, if you want to join the taglist for this series, please click here.
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The old man next door always seemed so lonely. Always sitting down on the front porch in such solitude, watching and observing the world around him and how everything seems to be changing. When you would leave for work, he was always there in the cushioned chair out front and when you came home… he was always there. Sitting on the cushioned chair. Out front. 
Your eyes would always linger on him while his seemed to stay in place behind those dark shades he’s always sporting. It’s night time now, can he even see? Never once did his eyes flicker to yours, making you more brazen in your staring as curiosity only spiked within you. You always told yourself that one day that you’d make your presence known to him, but everyday when that voice inside your head reminded you of your self-proclaimed promise, the same excuse would deter you away— you’re too tired. 
This evening, after work, you had went out to go grocery shopping. You had been putting off the task due to your own laziness and now, you were detrimentally low on practically everything in the house. Forcing yourself to make the trip after your tiresome shift, you regret going within the weekday as everyone and their mother seemed to have taken this particular day to go out, too. The lines were long and you were getting cranky the longer you stood. It was a blessing the moment you took a sharp turn inside of your driveway, quick to park and hop out your car as you popped open the trunk. 
This evening you were so engrossed with heading inside that you never went to look at the old man. If you had, you’d take in immediate fact that his eyes were on you, watching your multiple trips from inside to out, outside to in. You’d notice that even though his glasses hid his eyes, they lingered on your figure, watching how your hips swayed as you took long strides back and forth. You’d have noticed how he’d fixed his posture slightly better to get more of a look on the younger beauty that he deems you to be. 
When you’re finally done and you’re slamming the trunk door shut, you take a moment to pause and lean against your vehicle. Your body relaxes as you throw your head back and led out a groan. Something stirs deep within the old man, something that’s been festering inside of him ever since you moved into the neighborhood again. The sight of you is making him feel younger and he’s quite liking it. You’re pulling the band that’s holding your hair up in one, letting your hair go free as you massage the scalp. With another drawn out groan, you’re finally shuffling back in the direction of your house. Stretching as you go, the old man grows disappointed when two clicks sound from your car as your headlights flash. He never thought he’d grow to miss your curious eyes on him, but here he is.
Finally, he heads back inside his house.
The first time you don’t see the old man on the front porch is the day you finally decide to make a visit. You have a small tupperware of cookies in your hand— storebought, because you’re not the best when it comes to baking— when you knock on the door. You’re shuffling on your feet while you’re waiting, chest heaving more and more the longer you wait. You’re trying to be patient but your fists are balling once more to knock again. Knock, knock, kno— 
“Hold on,” you hear from the other side. “I’ll be right there!”
You can hear muffled chatter as well, but nothing you can decipher when you hear the twisting of locks before the door’s pulled open. “Yes?”
He’s trying to keep himself together. The moment he saw you through the peephole, he felt like he was being reverted back to his younger days. No longer was this a game, but now something in actuality as he stares you down. Playing the grumpy old man has always worked in his favor, but he wouldn’t— didn’t— want to run a pretty thing like you away.
You’re holding out the container of cookies for him. “It’s not too late to introduce myself, is it?”
He scrutinizes the cookies, snorting to himself because it’s apparent you didn’t make them yourself. However, he still takes them. “It will be if I don’t like these cookies.”
Leaving the door propped open, he expected you to follow behind him as he opens the thing of  chocolate chip cookies, shoving one right inside his mouth. He hums in delight when he turns around, furrowing his eyebrows when you’re just standing there. “Are you not going to come inside?”
“Oh,” you sigh, taking one step inside as you take in the home. To your surprise, it has much of a more modern take to it— minimal in furniture, but picture frames hanging around of what seems to be photos of him within in his younger years. Your eyes widened, immediately captivated by the sparkle and shine of his cerulean blue eyes and inhuman white hair. Sharp features that certainly had a multitude of people throwing themselves at him. Why have such beautiful qualities to himself and hide them behind glasses?
From the looks of it, he still acquired those great assets to himself. While his stupor seemed shorter than the heights he stood previously and his skin has loosened up, those mere factors only added more character to him. 
“I was a handsome devil back then,” he chuckles, watching you. “If only you were alive back in those days. I’d have made sure to sweep you right off your feet.”
Still in awe from the pictures that aligned the walls, you didn’t quite catch what he said at the end, only nodding your head before following him inside of the kitchen. By the time your visit came to an end, you learned that the old man had a name— Gojo Satoru. He insisted that you called him ‘Satoru’ if you planned to make more visits, something that he was insistent on. “Make sure you actually make me something next time, too.”
That comment made your face heat up when he greeted you out the door, watching you walk all the way to your front door. You glanced his direction one last time, swearing to yourself that, yes, he did in fact send a wink your way before heading back inside. 
As promised— or, forced— your visits to Gojo’s became a regular thing. One that always consisted of him telling you stories that occurred when he was younger, always mentioning the names Geto, Shoko and Nanami within them. You could always see the longing within his eyes, finally ridding himself of the glasses the moment you first brought up the question. You were always so enamoured by them the moment he revealed that they still had that same shine to them.
Another recurring theme was his daring hands, his touch seeming to linger on longer the more you allowed them. You always deemed it to accidental or innocent with the way he kept his hand on your lower back. And when you’d jump when they touched your thigh before they glide off, you could’ve sworn you heard him chuckle. However, you were always so dismissive. You should’ve seen right through him when he always manages to sneak in some sort of innuendo to you, or how his eyes would traverse your body as he said some other flirtatious comment your direction. 
In your habitual spot in the kitchen, sitting on a bar stool behind the island as Gojo has taken a spot next to you, he can feel the tension in your legs as he leans into your personal space. He’s telling a story he’s already told before, but you can’t seem to inform him so. You never had the heart to and your mind’s more preoccuppied with the way his thumb is drawing smooth and tantalizing circles into your bare skin. Deciding to wear a short summer dress that flows at the skirt, it rises upward in the seat and only making the older man even more daring.
“Y’know,” he cuts his story short, looking into your eyes. “I’m glad that you took the initiative to introduce yourself to me. Getting up to watch you every morning was getting so tiring.”
“Hm?” Your voice cracks at his admission. “Wha–What do you mean by that?”
“You’re not a very bright one, are you?” he hums, nimble and veiny fingers rising up into the skirt to play with the hem of your underwear. You should pull away. You really should, but gosh, your body won’t muster up the strength. “It seems like the generations are only getting more dunce— do I really have to elaborate, dear?”
They dip to your clit, pressing down so gently against it to elicit a soft sound from your lips. “Did you really think I’d waste my days sitting outside without a purpose?”
“I—I—” You’re failing to come up with a response. Finding yourself in such an unbelievable predicament, your mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air as you try to find any viable words worth speaking. At the end, all you can manage to squeak is, “I don’t know.”
“You don’t mind showing an old man like me a good time, huh?” he asks. “I haven’t found myself with someone so gorgeous— so youthful— in quite awhile. Be a doll for me and give yourself up?”
It takes nothing much to coax you, feeling the arousal in between your legs continuing to grow as his cold digits press against your dark nub. Your body shudders, making you jolt as you nod your head. The ‘yes’ that falls from your lips has him tugging at the crotch of your panties, feeling that wet patch in between as his finger hooks over it and drags down the material. Something so dainty and baby blue, a cute shade against your complexion. 
For a man his age, Gojo still has enough strength in him to pull your seat closer to him as he brings one of your legs over to his lap to spread them out for him. Your hand grips at the edge of the marble counter as your heart races when his hand hurries to hike up the material and revealing your bare lower body. Instinctively, you try to close your legs but he slaps at your thigh in protest. “You’re not backing out now, love. C’mon and let me see that young pussy of yours.”
He has you coming close to the edge of your seat, making sure to have your legs spread wide so he can get a good view of your folds. They glisten like glazed porcelain, your cunt pulsating with such a need as he have you in such a vulnerable state. He moves your leg to rest against him, the next one falling pliant as his next hand goes to grab at your breasts. The way he groans indicates just how much he needs this. There was a point in time where he believed that he’d no longer be able to get hard, but in between his legs, he can feel that stir of his cock. Coming to life, it presses against the loose-fitted bottoms he’s wearing as his thumb swipes over your nipple. 
His index and middle finger presses in between your lips, feeling the sweet nectar of your arousal stick to them as you continue to draw out such melodious sounds. You nasty little thing, making a man much much older than you use you for his own sexual desires. He makes the effort for his fingernails, have grown in its length, to prick at the sensitive skin of your cunt. You squeal at the pressure, calling out his first name for the first time. “Satoru!”
“There y’go,” he coos. “You’re finally obeying me.”
A slight pinch to your clit that has you jumping before his long and slender fingers dip inside of your heat. Gojo hums in delight at the warmth that’s inviting him, making him antsy to know what your pussy will feel like wrapped around his length. “Seems like all the girls your generation only know how to be good under one circumstance, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get some more manners into ya.”
Your stool touches the edge of his, invading each other’s spaces as Gojo works his fingers inside of you. They explore you like it’s his first time in a pussy, but also working so expertly, knowing how to elicit a response from you. You’re hunched over into him, your head falling into his chest as his wrinkled fingers gain back its youth. Your slick like a serum of youth, making him feel like a twenty-year-old again. No more is he sweating over the way his white hair’s falling out, the pudge in his stomach, and the way his eyes are losing their life. No, each languid movement of his wrist pulling in and out of you, makes him forget everything as you’re clenching around him.
Your arm draped over his neck, fingers digging into the fabric of his sweater, your legs tense up at the coil within your stomach. Your pussy following the rhythm of your heartbeat that alerts Gojo. He hums in delight, the corner of his lips rising up. “Cum for me, alright, my dear? Make this old man feel brand new.”
Your moans are high-pitched and scratchy. Eyes squinting shut, your hold on Gojo tightens as you let yourself go. “F-Fuuuuuuck!” There’s no longer any doubts stirring up in your mind. Far too deep into this, you feel a visceral want and need for Gojo that it’s primal. “Satoru, I need you, please. I need you inside of me.”
And because he’s such a giving man, he says ‘yes.’ “Let’s bring this to somewhere more comfortable, though. My back can’t handle these stools for quite too long.”
Settled on the couch, Gojo’s leaning back into the cushion of the leather seats, arms sprawled on top as his legs are spread out wide. Head leaned all the way back as his chest rises and falls. You’re a devious minx, toying with the band of his pants and palming at his erection. The comment you made earlier in a teasing manner, “Did you have to pop a viagra before I came to get hard?” still residing in his head as you continued your mischief. If you thought your playful nature would get you out of doing all the work was going to sway his mind, you’d be damn wrong. Retired and having nothing better to do with his time, he could stay in this spot all day until you got fed up and bored. 
You’re on your knees, feeling at his erection as your slick sticks in between your inner thighs. Head nestled against one his thighs, you push yourself up as you look up at him from your position. Hooded eyelids that have experienced the world already, but still holding onto some sort of amazement, those blue pupils speak for itself as they coax you closer to his cock. Fingernails pull at the hem, helping him out of the bottoms to reveal the boxer briefs that hug it. Thin veiled, there’s a wet spot of pre sitting right where his tip is when you go to palm it. It has Gojo opening his mouth way too quickly to retort something. 
“Aren’t you—oh.” Cut short, your mouth opens to suck through the fabric, tasting the salted flavor of his precum through the underwear. The friction of it and your tongue rubbing through the barrier, it has his hips rising up as he shudders. “Fuck.”
Gripping at the seat, he feels himself easily breaking when your hand dwindles to cup at his balls. Gojo couldn’t remember when he came prematurely during sex, but it was something he didn’t want to do with you. He could feel himself breaking, and it was coming on fast. “Get up.”
He didn’t know if you didn’t hear him or if it was on purpose, either way, he wouldn’t have for it. Reaching for your head, he nudges rather harshly as he repeats, “Get up.”
Your eyes widen at the harsh tone set, immediately starting to rise. “Did I— Did I do something wrong?”
He grabs ahold of your wrist, pulling you to him in a rush. “Yes, by having me wait too damn long.”
From fear to glee, you oblige his orders, climbing onto his lap as he’s shimmying out of his underwear. Take your dress off. You have done as told, shredding yourself of the material before you’re reaching to pull at him. Freckles litter his skin, making your fingers glide against the expanse of his chest. He’s no longer the well-fitted man he once was. Not something to be marvelled over, he used to believe. However, you stare down at his body with such amazement that leads him to believe differently.
But, you? You. You’re a sight for sore eyes the way your body gleams as the sun trickles in through the windows. With such sheer curtains in place, if people tried hard enough, they’d be able to see you— to see you in such glory that they’d either be amazed or horrified by. Though, he was not going to dwell on it too much. 
“Remember what I said,” he breathes, looking up at you as you straddle his waist. You smile mischeviously as you nod.
“Don’t worry,” you say. “I know your hips don’t work like they used to.”
He chuckles at your compliment, watching as you go to hold his length and align it with your entrance. Your moans and mewls are so sweet as he stretches you out, taking on inch at a time before he’s bottoming out inside you. Gojo pulls you against him, making you rest your head in the crevice of his neck and shoulders when you bring your hips to rise. Only his tip in sheathed inside of you, clenching around it as you fix your posture. 
“You’re not planning on backing out, are you?” he asks once more. 
You shake your head. “Now, why would I?”
“Still a stupid girl, I see.” You bring your hips down, silencing the old man as you set a moderate pace. Shit, he cursed under his breath as you worked yourself against his length. Hands on your waist, he holds you close to him until you’re bringing yourself to sit up straight. You go to caress his face, holding him in between your hands as you bounce on his cock. Your breasts jump up with every motion, slapping sounds intermingling with the claps of your wet pussy against his pelvis. 
This sight in front of you, only makes your lust fester up stronger, wanton moans leaving you out as you pant. “You— You feel so good in me.”
“Yeah?” Gojo pants. “I do?—” You nod “—How good?”
“So, so good.”
“So so good that you wouldn’t let anyone have what’s mine?” he hums, hands traversing up your waist to flick to cup your breasts. “You’d let this old man keep you all to himself?”
“Yeah,” you squeak, nodding your head. “I’m all yours.”
“God damn,” he curses. “I like the sound of that. Say it again. Say that you’re all mine.”
“I’m yours,” you moan, grinding your hips down. “All yours.”
The couch squeaks with every bounce. Gojo’s cock making you feel hazy with want the more your pussy meets the base of his cock. You hold onto his neck as leverage, his aging skin coming to easily bruise with the way your nails pinch into his skin. His hands are transfixed with your breasts, cupping and kneading at the skin as his eyes flicker open and shut. He nudges you closer, mouth open as he uses his touch to find and latch onto your nipple. He tastes the salt of your skin with a deep hum from the depths of his chest, he sucks like a breast-fed baby. Fingers planted around your waist once more, he holds a steady grip as he feels the faint twitch of his cock. 
“Shit,” he mumbles, though it’s incoherent as he’s still suckling on your chest. His breathing becomes heavy as he feels you’re pulsating around his length, your moans more staggered out now.
“Satoru, ‘m g’nna cum,” you alert, thighs clenching together around his waist. He lets go of your breast with a pop, lust-drunken eyes looking up at you. Gripping at your skin, he pulls your waist closer. 
“You’d have my kids, right?” he asks. “Continue my legacy? I know you’re a good girl.”
“Yeah,” you agree, brain so foggy with lust that you can only find yourself agreeing with every word he says. “I’m your good girl.”
Hand dipping in between the two of you, he rubs at your clit to quicken up your orgasm. He smiles with a content sigh. “You’re so perfect for me, doll. Know you’ll take my cum so well.”
“Mhmmmm,” you cry, feeling yourself break apart when you feel Gojo spurting inside of you. Three pumps of his cock before he’s finished and you’re following in pursuit. You lose your rhythm, each bounce to your hip becoming more staggered as you feel yourself cream around his length. Your orgasms mixing with each other before you halt all motion altogether. Chests panting as you lay all weight onto Gojo as everything settles in. 
You push yourself to sit up while your senior has his eyes shut. “Did you really only come out to watch me?”
He takes a while to respond, making you think he had fallen asleep. Nudging him, he groans. “Don’t worry, I heard you.”
“So, answer,” you push at his shoulder once more. “Were you really watching me?”
Gojo chuckles and motions for you to get off his lap, struggling to reach down and grab his pants. When you go to help him, he declines the offer. He fixes himself back up, before handing you your dress. “My statement still stands. Your generation is so stupid.”
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note. thank you so much to everyone interested in this series. hopefully, i didn't disappoint you all. let me know what you think in the comments or in tags of your reblogs. illeesum !! <3
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aceyalonso · 29 days ago
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our little secret - DANIEL RICCIARDO
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pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader
summary : y/n had never been one to take risks, especially those that could put any relationships on the line, but maybe daniel can convince her to take a risk while keeping it a secret, just this once (or twice)
warnings/notes : text written like this = flashback, swearing, drinking, 9 year age gap - reader is 25/26, smut, oral (both!receiving), hair pulling (?), fingering, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, thigh riding, praise kink, use of "sweetheart" and "pretty/good girl", implied unprotected sex (please use a condom guys!!!), gagging (in a sense?), finger sucking, begging, clothed sex, nipple play
word count : 9.4k
a/n : sorry if i havent been posting much, im really busy :,)
main masterlist | 1k masterlist | taglist form
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2024 - Monday, 10:58 PM
Y/n walked into the dimly lit bar, the smell of alcohol and stale cigarette smoke filling her nostrils. She scanned the room, taking in the various patrons drowning their sorrows or celebrating the night away. As she made her way to the bar, her eyes landed on a familiar face - Daniel, her best friend's older brother.
It had been years since she last saw him, and a part of her couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the unexpected reunion. She approached him, a friendly smile on her face. "Daniel? Is that really you?"
He turned, his eyes widening in recognition. "Y/n! Wow, it's been ages. How have you been?" He pulled her into a warm hug, the scent of his cologne filling her senses.
She settled onto the barstool beside Daniel, signaling the bartender for a drink. "I've been good, just busy with work and life, you know how it goes. How about you? Still living in the area?"
He nodded, taking a swig of his beer. "Yep, never left. Business has been stable, bought a new house, the whole nine yards. It's been... quiet, I guess. Nothing too exciting." His eyes lingered on her face, taking in the changes time had brought.
As they caught up, the drinks flowed freely, and inhibitions began to lower. Y/n found herself leaning closer, drawn to Daniel's easy charm and the familiarity of his presence. They laughed and reminisced about old times, the alcohol loosening their tongues and emboldening their words.
Daniel's brow furrowed in confusion. "Wait, I thought you were coming into town on Thursday? My sister mentioned something about you staying over on Friday."
She blinked, momentarily taken aback by the realization. "Oh, right. I completely forgot about that. I decided to come a few days earlier, have some time to myself." She laughed, shaking her head. "I'll be in town for two weeks, actually. Just... don't want to make my presence known yet, I guess."
A mischievous glint entered Daniel's eye. "Well, since you're here now, why don't we make the most of it? We could grab dinner, catch up properly. It's been too long since we last hung out."
Y/n hesitated for a moment, the idea both thrilling and daunting. But the alcohol coursing through her veins bolstered her courage, and she found herself nodding in agreement. "Sure, why not? It'll be fun to reconnect."
Her inhibitions continued to fade. Y/n found herself laughing more easily, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling with mirth. Daniel watched her, amused and intrigued by the change in her demeanor.
"You know," Y/n said, leaning in close and lowering her voice conspiratorially, "I had the biggest crush on you in my last year of high school."
Daniel's eyes widened in surprise. "Really? I had no idea."
Y/n nodded, a dreamy look in her eyes. "Oh yeah. I used to fantasize about you all the time. You were so cool and mature, and I was just a silly little girl."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, I'm flattered. I had no idea you felt that way."
She waved her hand dismissively. "It doesn't matter now. That was years ago, and we're both different people now."
Daniel leaned back, a curious expression on his face. "So why didn't you ever pursue it? I mean, if you had such a big crush on me."
Y/n let out a loud, drunken laugh, nearly spilling her drink in the process. "Come on, Daniel! It was a given rule - never go for your best friend's brother. That's like, the ultimate taboo."
Daniel raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "And yet, here we are. Both single, both adults. What's stopping us now?"
Y/n's eyes widened, a mix of shock and excitement coursing through her. She hadn't expected him to take it seriously, to actually consider the possibility. But there was something in his gaze, a heat that sent a shiver down her spine.
"I... I don't know," she stammered, her mind racing. "It just feels wrong, somehow. Like we're crossing a line."
Daniel leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. "Wow, okay. You certainly didn't seem to mind crossing lines when I caught you and my cousin making out at that barbecue a few years back."
Y/n's eyes widened in shock, her face flushing a deep crimson. "Oh my god, I can't believe you remembered that!" She buried her face in her hands, mortified.
He chuckled, reaching out to gently tilt her chin up. "Hey, no need to be embarrassed. We were all young and stupid at one point."
She met his gaze, her heart pounding in her chest. There was a new intensity in his eyes, a hunger that made her breath catch in her throat. "I... I don't know what to say," she whispered.
Daniel's thumb brushed lightly over thumb, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "How about we get out of here?" he suggested, his voice husky. "Go somewhere more private, where we can... talk more comfortably."
Y/n bit her lip, considering his suggestion. The alcohol had lowered her inhibitions, and the prospect of being alone with Daniel was both thrilling and terrifying. "Hm, why not?" she finally said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. "Your place?"
Daniel nodded, a predatory gleam in his eye. "Sounds perfect." He tossed some cash on the bar and took her hand, leading her out into the cool night air.
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They stumbled slightly as they made their way to his car, giggling like teenagers. Daniel opened the passenger door for her, his hand lingering on the small of her back as she slid into the seat.
As Daniel slid into the driver's seat, Y/n couldn't help but notice the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt. She swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat that was building in her core.
The drive to Daniel's place was long and winding, the streets deserted at this late hour. They passed by darkened houses and closed businesses, the only sound the low hum of the engine and their own breathing.
The cool night air rushed in through the open window, as Y/n felt a sudden burst of reckless energy. She unbuckled her seatbelt and leaned out the window, letting the wind whip through her hair.
Daniel glanced over at her, a swirl of amusement and shock on his face. “What are you doing? You’re going to fall out!”
She laughed, the sound carried away in the wind. “I won’t! I’m just having fun!” She pushed herself further out of the window, her upper body completely exposed to elements.
He shook his head, but couldn’t help but smile at her carefree antics. Daniel pressed down on the accelerator, the car speeding up as they flew down the empty streets.
Y/n's laughter echoed through the night as the wind whipped around her, her dress billowing and hiking up her thighs. She felt alive, exhilarated by the rush of speed and the freedom of the open road.
Daniel's eyes flicked over to her, taking in the sight of her exposed legs and the way her dress clung to her curves. He swallowed hard, his grip tightening on the steering wheel as he tried to focus on the road ahead.
"You're crazy, you know that?" he called out over the roar of the wind and engine.
She just laughed harder, the sound filled with pure joy and reckless abandon. She felt invincible like nothing could touch her in this moment.
Y/n's laughter turned into a shout, her voice carried away in the wind. "I'm on top of the world!" she cried out, her arms spread wide as if embracing the night sky.
Daniel's mind flashed back to a night years ago, when he had picked up Y/n and his sister from a bar. Even then, Y/n had been reckless when she was drunk, always pushing boundaries and seeking out new thrills.
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2015 - 1:36 AM
Daniel sat at his desk, hunched over his laptop as he worked late into the night. The glow of the screen illuminated his face, casting shadows across his features. Suddenly, his phone buzzed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen and saw his sister's name flash across it.
He answered the call, putting it on speaker. "Hey, what's up?"
His sister's voice came through, slurred and giggly. "Dannyyyy, pick me and Y/n upppppp, we can't driveeee."
Daniel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Where are you?"
"The bar on Main Street. Pleeeease, I don't want to leave my car here overnight," she whined.
Daniel glanced at the clock, debating whether to go or not. But he knew he couldn't leave his sister stranded. "Fine, I'll be there in ten minutes. Don't go anywhere."
He hung up the phone and grabbed his keys, heading out into the night to rescue his drunken sister and her equally inebriated friend.
Not long after, Daniel pulled up to the bar, spotting his sister and Y/n stumbling out of the entrance. His sister was in tears, her mascara running down her face as she clung to Y/n for support.
"There you are!" she cried out as Daniel rolled down the window. "I'm so glad you're here."
Daniel sighed, getting out of the car to help them inside. "Come on, let's get you home."
As they climbed into the car, his sister immediately moved to the backseat. "I want to sit in the back," she insisted, her words slightly slurred.
Y/n, who was still giggling from the earlier excitement, plopped herself down in the front passenger seat. "I'll keep your brother company," she said with a wink, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
Daniel shook his head, amused by their antics despite the late hour. He got back into the driver's seat and started the car, ready to take them home and tuck them into bed like the responsible adult he was.
His sister's head lolled back against the seat, as the car pulled away from the sidewalk, her eyes fluttering closed as she drifted off to sleep. In the front seat, Y/n turned to face him, a coy smile on her lips.
"Thanks for coming to get us," she purred, her voice low and sultry. "I don't know what we would have done without you."
Daniel glanced over at her, taking in the way her dress had ridden up her thighs and the way her hair was tousled from the wind. He felt a stirring of desire, but quickly pushed it aside. "It's no problem. I'm just glad you're both okay."
Y/n continued to make flirty comments and innuendos, as they drove, her words becoming more brazen with each passing mile. "You know, Daniel," she said, her hand resting on his thigh, "I've always thought you were so handsome. And now that I'm older, I can really appreciate it."
Daniel shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to focus on the road ahead. "Y/n, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."
She laughed, a throaty sound that sent shivers down his spine. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm saying. I'm saying that I want you, Daniel. I've always wanted you."
Y/n leaned in closer, her lips mere inches from his. "You want to kiss me, don't you?" she whispered, her breath hot against his skin.
Daniel's heart pounded in his chest, his resolve weakening by the second. He leaned in, his eyes fluttering closed as he prepared to capture her lips with his own.
But just as he was about to make contact, Y/n pulled away, a wicked grin on her face. "Not tonight," she giggled, unbuckling her seatbelt and climbing out of the car.
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Y/n stumbled slightly as she stepped out of the car, but Daniel was there to catch her, his strong hands gripping her waist. She leaned into him for a moment, savoring the warmth of his touch.
"Do you have any wine?" she asked, her words slightly slurred.
Daniel nodded, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, I've got some. Do you want some?"
Y/n nodded enthusiastically, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yes, please. I need something to take the edge off."
Daniel led her inside, his hand resting on the small of her back. The house was dark and quiet, the only sound their footsteps on the hardwood floor.
He guided her into the kitchen and opened the fridge, pulling out a bottle of red wine. "This okay?" he asked, holding it up for her to see.
She nodded, her eyes fixed on the bottle. "Perfect."
Daniel grabbed two glasses and poured them each a generous serving. He handed one to Y/n, their fingers brushing as she took it from him.
Y/n took a few sips of the wine, savoring the rich, velvety texture on her tongue. "Mmm, that's some good red wine," she purred, her eyes half-lidded as she looked up at Daniel.
He smiled, taking a sip of his own drink. "Thank you. It was a gift from a friend of mine."
Y/n nodded, her gaze roaming over his face, taking in the strong lines of his jaw and the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light. "You have good taste," she said, her voice low and husky.
"Do you want to sit in the living room?" Daniel asked, his voice low and smooth.
She nodded, a coy smile playing on her lips. "Sure, lead the way."
He took her hand, intertwining their fingers as he led her out of the kitchen and into the living room. The space was cozy and inviting, with plush couches and soft lighting.
Daniel gestured for her to sit, and she sank down onto the couch, crossing her legs and leaning back against the cushions. He sat down beside her, close enough that their thighs were almost touching.
"Comfortable?" he asked, his eyes roaming over her face.
Y/n smiled, taking another sip of her wine. "Very. This is nice."
Daniel smiled, his hand resting on the arm of the couch, just inches from her own. "I'm glad you think so."
She took another sip of her wine, trying to ease the tension that had settled in her chest. She started making small talk, asking Daniel about his job and his life in the years since they had last seen each other.
Daniel listened intently, laughing at her jokes and responding with his own anecdotes. "You don't need to feel awkward," he said, his hand coming to rest on her knee. "We're just two old friends catching up."
Y/n nodded, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this than just a friendly reunion. The way Daniel was looking at her, the way his hand felt on her skin... it was all so intense, so charged with possibility.
She took another sip of her wine, trying to calm her racing heart. "I'm glad we ran into each other tonight," she said, her voice soft. "It's been too long."
Daniel nodded, his eyes softening at her words. "I didn't realize I missed seeing you until now, honestly."
They stared at each other for a long moment, the air between them crackling with tension. Y/n's heart was pounding in her chest, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
Unable to resist any longer, she leaned in and pressed her lips to his in a soft, tentative kiss. She set her wine glass down on the coffee table, her hands coming up to tangle in his hair as she deepened the kiss.
Daniel responded instantly, his arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer. He kissed her back with a hunger that took her breath away, his tongue delving into her mouth to tangle with her own.
Y/n moaned softly, pressing herself against him, feeling the hard planes of his body against her soft curves. She had never wanted anything so badly in her life.
Daniel pulled away from the kiss, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "God, if I had known you were such a good kisser, I would have stopped you from leaving the car to kiss you," he said, his voice rough with desire.
Y/n blinked, confusion crossing her face. "What are you talking about?"
Daniel chuckled, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Remember that night I picked you and my sister up from the bar? You were being all flirty and reckless, and I was too much of a gentleman to take advantage of you."
Her eyes widened as the memory came flooding back. "Holy shit, that wasn't a dream?" she exclaimed, her face flushing a deep crimson.
Y/n buried her face in Daniel's neck, mortified by the memory. "That just turned me off so bad," she mumbled, her words muffled against his skin. "That was so cringe, Danny."
Daniel laughed, his chest rumbling beneath her cheek. "I know, I know. I looked like such a nerd back then."
She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his. "But you were still hot," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Even if you were a little too noble for your own good."
Daniel laughed, shaking his head in amusement. "Can we just stay like this instead? I mean, we don't need to have sex."
Y/n grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sure, we can have sex in the morning," she said, her voice teasing.
"Mhm," Daniel agreed, pulling her down to lay on the couch with him.
Y/n started giggling uncontrollably, her body shaking with laughter. "Oh my god, can you imagine? Waking up and being like, 'Hey, remember that thing we said about having sex this morning? Let's do it!'"
Daniel chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "I think we'd be too hungover to actually follow through."
Y/n snorted, burying her face in his chest. "Probably. But it's a funny thought."
They lay there for a while, just holding each other and enjoying the closeness. The wine and the late hour made everything feel soft and hazy, like they were suspended in a bubble of their own making.
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2024 - Tuesday, 9:21 AM
Y/n slowly blinked open her eyes, her head pounding and her mouth feeling like cotton. She groaned softly, her body slightly sore from the awkward way they had slept on the couch.
Daniel stirred beside her, his arm tightening around her waist as he mumbled something incoherent. Y/n smiled, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent.
"Morning," she whispered, her voice hoarse from sleep.
Daniel's eyes fluttered open, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "Morning," he replied, his voice equally rough. "How are you feeling?"
Y/n stretched, wincing slightly as her muscles protested. "Like I got hit by a truck," she admitted. "But in a good way."
Daniel laughed, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "I'm glad you're here," he said, his eyes soft and warm. "Even if we are both feeling like death."
She leaned into his touch, her heart fluttering in her chest. "Me too," she murmured. "Me too."
He sat up, stretching his arms above his head. "Do you want breakfast?" Daniel asked, his stomach grumbling loudly.
Y/n nodded, her own stomach rumbling in response. "Yeah, that sounds amazing."
"Okay," Daniel said, standing up and offering her a hand. "You can take a bath in my bedroom if you want. There's a shirt in the top drawer of my dresser that you can wear. I bet that dress wasn't very comfortable to sleep in."
Y/n took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet. "Thanks," she said, smiling up at him. "You're too good to me."
Daniel chuckled, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "Go on, I'll start on breakfast."
She nodded and made her way up the stairs, grabbing a shirt from his dresser and heading to the bathroom. She stripped off her dress and climbed into the shower, sighing in relief as the hot water soothed her aching muscles.
As the hot water cascaded over her body, Y/n found herself staring at the various bottles of soap and shampoo lined up on the shower shelf. Her mind drifted back to the events of the previous night, replaying the moment when she had kissed Daniel over and over again.
She couldn't believe she had been so bold, so reckless. But in that moment, it had felt so right, so inevitable. The way his lips had moved against hers, the way his hands had felt on her skin... it was intoxicating.
Y/n bit her lip, a shiver running through her as she remembered the heat of his body pressed against hers. She had wanted him so badly, had ached for his touch. And now, here she was, in his bathroom, wearing his shirt.
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She couldn't let herself get carried away, couldn't let her feelings for Daniel cloud her judgment. They were just two old friends, catching up after years apart. Nothing more, nothing less.
Y/n stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself as she padded into the bedroom. She pulled on Daniel's shirt, the fabric soft and worn from years of use. It was a bit big on her, hanging loosely off her shoulders and brushing the tops of her thighs.
She rummaged through his dresser, looking for something to wear underneath. Her eyes landed on a pair of boxer shorts, and she grinned to herself. "Hey Danny," she imagined herself saying, "I took some boxer shorts from your dresser because I'm pretty sure it's not okay to be wearing only panties in your best friend's older brother's house."
Y/n pulled on the boxers, the waistband sitting low on her hips. She looked at herself in the mirror, a mischievous glint in her eye. She couldn't wait to see the look on Daniel's face when he saw her.
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Y/n made her way downstairs, her bare feet padding softly on the hardwood floors. She could hear the sound of the coffee machine gurgling in the kitchen, and the faint scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air.
She crept up behind Daniel, who was leaning against the counter, his eyes half-closed as he waited for the coffee to finish. Y/n couldn't resist the urge to tease him, and before he could react, she reached out and tickled his armpits.
Daniel yelped, jumping up and spinning around. "What the hell?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise.
Y/n dissolved into giggles, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Sorry, I couldn't help myself," she said, still laughing. "You looked so zoned out, I thought I'd wake you up."
He shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You're lucky I didn't drop the coffee pot," he said, his voice gruff.
She giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I hope you don't mind," she said, "I borrowed your boxers. I didn't think it was appropriate to be wearing lace panties around my best friend's brother."
Daniel lifted the hem of his shirt slightly, his eyes roaming over the waistband of the boxers peeking out. "Ehh, I think I'd prefer seeing the lace over my boxers," he said, his voice low and teasing.
Y/n rolled her eyes, playfully swatting at his arm. "You're such a perv," she said, but there was no real heat behind her words.
Daniel just grinned, pouring two cups of coffee and handing one to her. "Breakfast is almost ready," he said, gesturing to the stove where a pan of scrambled eggs and bacon sizzled.
She hopped up onto the kitchen counter, her feet dangling off the edge as she watched Daniel finish cooking. The scent of bacon and eggs filled the air, making her stomach growl.
"Ooh, okay," she said, eyeing the plate of food hungrily.
Daniel set the plate down in the center of the island, then turned to face her. He stepped between her legs, his hands coming to rest on her thighs.
"I meant what I said, by the way," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers. "I'd prefer seeing you in lace panties."
Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at his closeness. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Daniel's lips found the sensitive skin of Y/n's neck, his kisses sending shivers down her spine. "Yeah," he murmured against her skin, his hands tugging at the waistband of the boxers. "So can I take these off, sweetheart?"
Y/n's head fell back, her eyes fluttering closed as she savored the feeling of his lips on her neck. "Please," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper.
Daniel's fingers hooked into the waistband of the boxers, slowly pulling them down her legs. Y/n lifted her hips, allowing him to slide them off completely.
"There," he said, his voice husky. "Much better."
Y/n opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his. She could see the desire burning in their depths, and it made her heart race. "Daniel," she whispered, her hand coming up to cup his cheek.
He leaned into her touch, his eyes never leaving hers. "Y/n," he breathed, his lips brushing against hers.
Y/n's breath hitched as Daniel's fingers played with her through the lace of her panties. "Please," she whimpered, her hips bucking against his hand. "I need you."
Daniel smiled, his eyes dark with desire. "Look at you, sweetheart," he murmured, his fingers pushing the lace aside to reveal her wetness. "So wet for me. You'd think I already fucked you."
Y/n moaned, her head falling back as he teased her sensitive flesh. But just as she was getting lost in the sensation, Daniel stopped, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties.
"Off," he commanded, pulling them down her legs and tossing them carelessly onto the floor.
Y/n whimpered at the loss of his touch, but her need was quickly replaced by pleasure as Daniel's tongue licked a hot stripe along her slit. His nose brushed against her clit, and she cried out, her fingers tangling in his hair.
"Mmm, you taste so sweet for me, sweetheart," Daniel murmured, his words vibrating against her sensitive flesh. "I could have you like this all day."
He buried his face between her thighs, his tongue delving deep into her heat as he lapped at her juices. Y/n's back arched off the counter, her fingers gripping the edge tightly as he worked her over with his mouth.
Every so often, he would pull back just enough to make eye contact with her, his gaze smoldering as his nose brushed against her clit. Y/n's breath hitched, her hips bucking against his face as he teased her mercilessly.
"Danny," she gasped, her voice high and breathy. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
Daniel just grinned, his eyes dark with lust as he dove back in, determined to make her come undone.
Y/n's body shook and trembled as her orgasm ripped through her, her legs going limp as the intense pleasure overwhelmed her. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," she chanted, her voice ragged and breathless.
Daniel held her legs up, his strong hands keeping her steady as he continued to lap at her sensitive flesh, prolonging her pleasure. He could feel her inner walls fluttering around his fingers, and it made his cock twitch in his pants.
Slowly, he eased her down from her high, his tongue gentling as he licked up every last drop of her release. Y/n collapsed back against the counter, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.
Daniel stood up, his lips glistening with her juices. He leaned in, capturing her mouth in a deep, filthy kiss. Y/n could taste herself on his tongue, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her.
Y/n moaned into the kiss, her body still thrumming with need. "I want more," she breathed, her hands fisting in his shirt.
Daniel laughed, a low, sexy sound. "Really? So needy," he teased, his fingers trailing down her side. "Tell me what you want, sweetheart."
"I want to cum again," Y/n said, her voice trembling with desperation. "I don't care how, I just want to do it again."
Chuckling, Daniel took her hand and led her to the living room. He sat down on the couch, spreading his legs wide. "Suck my cock and I'll let you cum, okay?" he said, his voice rough with desire.
Y/n nodded eagerly, dropping to her knees between his legs. She reached for his belt, her fingers fumbling with the buckle in her haste to get to him.
Daniel laughed, his head falling back against the couch as Y/n's soft lips wrapped around the tip of his cock. She placed a gentle kiss there, her tongue darting out to lick a slow, teasing strip along the side.
"Fuck, that feels good," he groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair.
Y/n hummed in response, her hand still stroking his length as she licked and kissed her way down to his balls. She took one into her mouth, sucking gently as her tongue swirled around it.
Daniel's hips twitched, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Y/n," he warned, his voice strained. "If you keep that up, I'm gonna cum."
She just smiled around his ball, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she released it with a soft pop. "Would that be so bad?" she asked, her voice muffled.
"A bit," Daniel admitted, his voice strained as Y/n continued to tease the tip of his cock with her tongue. "It makes me seem like a teenager fucking for the first time."
Y/n looked up at him, her eyes wide and innocent as she batted her lashes. "Fuck like that, sweetheart," she purred, her hand stroking his shaft in time with her tongue.
Daniel groaned, his hips bucking up into her touch. He took a fistful of her hair, gently gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. "I need to see my pretty girl while she sucks my cock," he said, his voice rough with desire.
Y/n smiled, her lips parting as she took him into her mouth, inch by inch. She hollowed her cheeks, sucking hard as she bobbed her head up and down his length.
Y/n kept sucking him, her head bobbing up and down his length as she took him deeper into her mouth with each pass. Her tongue swirled around the sensitive head, lapping up the pre-cum that leaked from the tip.
Daniel's grip on her hair tightened, his hips thrusting up to meet her mouth. "Fuck, just like that," he groaned, his eyes locked on the erotic sight of her lips stretched around his cock.
Y/n moaned around him, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. She could feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his release.
"Y/n, I'm gonna cum," Daniel warned, his voice strained. "If you don't want it in your mouth, you better pull off."
But Y/n just doubled her efforts, sucking harder and faster, determined to make him fall apart.
Daniel's hips jerked as he came, his cock pulsing in Y/n's mouth as he filled it with his release. She moaned around him, the vibrations prolonging his orgasm as he emptied himself down her throat.
Her mouth was full of his cum, and she had a bit of a hard time swallowing it all. But she was determined to take every last drop, her throat working as she gulped it down.
"Such a good girl," Daniel praised, his voice rough with satisfaction. "Sit on my thigh, you deserve to cum."
Y/n climbed up onto the couch, straddling his thigh as she faced him. She could feel his spent cock twitching against her skin, and it made her even wetter.
"How do you want me to cum, Danny?" she asked, her voice breathy with need. "Tell me what to do."
"Hump my thigh, sweetheart," Daniel instructed, his hand coming up to cup her breast through his shirt. "I'll take care of you."
Y/n nodded, grinding her hips against his muscular thigh. She gasped as his fingers found her nipple, pinching and rolling the sensitive bud through the fabric.
"That's it, baby," he murmured, his other hand sliding down to rub her through her soaked panties. "Get yourself off for me."
She whimpered, her hips moving faster as she chased her pleasure. She could feel his cock hardening again against her thigh, and it only spurred her on.
"Danny," she moaned, her head falling back as she rode his thigh. "Feels so good."
Y/n's humping became more desperate, her hips grinding frantically against Daniel's thigh as she chased her release. Whimpers and needy little moans spilled from her lips, her fingers digging into his shoulders for support.
The wetness of her cunt began to seep, leaving a damp spot on his pants as she rode him. Daniel's hand rubbed her faster through the drenched fabric, his fingers pressing against her clit.
"You're doing so well, baby," he praised, his voice low and encouraging. "Keep going for me. Cum when you want to."
Y/n's breath came in short, sharp gasps, her body tensing as she neared the edge. "Danny," she whimpered, her hips stuttering. "I'm gonna cum."
"Do it," he growled, his fingers pushing her panties aside to stroke her directly. "Cum for me, Y/n."
Y/n's body seized up as her orgasm crashed over her, her inner walls clenching and fluttering around nothing. She cried out, her hands wrapping around Daniel's neck as she rode out the intense waves of pleasure.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Daniel's strong arms held her close, one hand stroking her hair gently as the other rubbed soothing circles on her lower back.
"That's it, baby," he murmured, pressing soft kisses to her temple. "You did so good. Such a good girl for me."
Y/n nuzzled into his neck, basking in the afterglow. "Mmm, Danny," she sighed, her voice content and sated. "That was amazing."
Daniel chuckled, his fingers trailing down Y/n's spine. "Really, sweetheart?" he teased, his voice low and husky. "Because I'm not done with you yet."
Y/n lifted her head, her eyes wide with feigned annoyance. "Oh god," she groaned, rolling her eyes dramatically. "You're insatiable."
But there was no real heat behind her words, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She could feel his cock hardening against her thigh once again, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through her.
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Y/n lay curled up beside Daniel, her head resting on his chest as she traced lazy patterns on his skin. The late afternoon sun filtered through the blinds, casting a warm glow over the rumpled sheets.
"We did it," she murmured, her voice soft and sleepy. "We actually followed through on our little bet."
Daniel chuckled, his fingers carding through her hair. "We sure did," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "And I'd say it was a success."
Y/n giggled, her body still tingling from their marathon "Mmm, I'd say so," she purred, nuzzling closer to him. "You wore me out, Danny."
"I'll take that as a compliment," he teased, his arm tightening around her waist. "Though I think we both could use a nap after that."
Y/n yawned, her eyes drifting closed. "Definitely," she mumbled, her breathing already evening out as she slipped into a contented slumber, safe and warm in Daniel's embrace.
Just as Y/n was about to drift off to sleep, Daniel's phone chimed with an incoming call. He glanced at the screen and smirked, seeing his sister's name.
"Hey sis," he answered, putting the call on speaker. "What's up?"
"Hey Dan," his sister replied, her voice chipper. "So I'm buying something for Y/n right now - you know, as a welcome back gift. But I can't decide between a necklace or a lipstick. Any thoughts?"
Y/n's eyes flew open at the mention of her name. She leaned in close to Daniel, whispering in his ear. "I'd prefer a necklace."
Daniel grinned, his hand sliding down to rest on Y/n's hip. "I think a necklace would be a good idea," he said, his voice low and suggestive. "Y/n loves jewelry."
His sister laughed. "Okay, necklace it is then. Thanks for the help, Dan."
"No problem," Daniel said, chuckling. "Now please end the call, I wanna go back to bed."
"Oh, of course!" his sister replied, oblivious to Y/n's presence. "Thanks for the help, Dan. Talk to you later!"
"Later, sis," Daniel said, ending the call. He turned to Y/n with a mischievous grin. "Where were we?"
Y/n laughed, playfully swatting at his chest. "Danny, no," she giggled. "Let me sleep."
Daniel pouted, but he didn't push it. Instead, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her and nuzzling into her hair. "Fine, fine," he murmured. "But I'm not letting you go just yet."
Y/n sighed contentedly, snuggling into his embrace as she drifted off to sleep, safe and warm in Daniel's arms.
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The next few days passed in a blur of passion and excitement for Y/n and Daniel. They spent every waking moment together, their bodies entwined as they explored each other in every way possible. The sex was endless, the feeling of happiness and adrenaline coursing through their veins as they pushed the boundaries of what they could get away with.
One particularly memorable moment came when they were in the middle of a heated session on Daniel's bed, Y/n's moans echoing off the walls, when suddenly there was a loud knock at the front door.
"Daniel? Are you home?" his sister's voice called out. "I need help with my car!"
Y/n's eyes widened in panic, her heart racing as she scrambled to gather her clothes. "Shit, shit, shit," she hissed, frantically trying to pull her panties up her legs.
Daniel quickly grabbed a shirt and threw it on, his eyes darting around the room for a place to hide Y/n. "Closet," he mouthed, pointing to the large walk-in closet. "Now!"
After a few minutes of frantic whispering and hurried explanations, Daniel managed to convince his sister that he knew just what was wrong with her car. He promised to come down and take a look, buying them some time.
As soon as he heard the front door close, Daniel rushed back up the stairs and into his bedroom. He flung open the closet door, finding Y/n curled up on the floor, giggling uncontrollably.
"I'm so sorry about that," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I had no idea she was going to show up."
Y/n just laughed, shaking her head. "It's okay," she said, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. "That was actually kind of exciting."
Y/n and Daniel collapsed onto the bed, their laughter echoing off the walls as they clung to each other. The adrenaline of almost getting caught mixed with the sheer joy of their connection, leaving them breathless and giddy.
As their laughter began to subside, Daniel's eyes darkened with desire. He rolled onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow as he looked down at Y/n. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and husky, "I never did get to finish what I started."
Y/n's breath hitched, her body already responding to the heat in his gaze. "Oh?" she asked, her voice breathy. "And what exactly did you have in mind?"
Daniel grinned, his hand sliding down her side to rest on her hip. "I think you know," he purred, leaning in close. "I'm going to make you scream my name until you forget all about my sister's unexpected visit."
Y/n shivered, her legs falling open in invitation. "Then what are you waiting for?" she challenged, her eyes glinting with mischief.
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2024 - Friday, 3:26 PM
Y/n stood on the doorstep of Daniel's family home, her heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She had been looking forward to this weekend for weeks, but now that the moment was here, she couldn't help but feel a little anxious.
She raised her hand and knocked on the door, smoothing down her dress nervously as she waited. After a moment, the door swung open, revealing Daniel's sister with a bright smile.
"Y/n!" she exclaimed, pulling her into a warm hug. "I'm so glad you could make it!"
Y/n returned the hug, feeling some of her nerves melt away. "Thank you so much for having me," she said, stepping inside. "I'm really excited to spend some time with all of you."
Daniel's sister led her into the living room, where the rest of the family was gathered. Y/n's eyes immediately sought out Daniel, who was sitting on the couch with his parents. He caught her gaze and winked, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Daniel's sister turned to Y/n, her brow furrowed with concern. "Sorry for not being able to pick you up," she said, apologetic. "My car was acting weird, and I didn't want to risk breaking down on the way."
Y/n glanced at Daniel, pretending not to know anything about the car trouble. She offered his sister a reassuring smile. "It's alright," she said, her voice warm and sincere. "I completely understand. I'm just happy to be here with all of you."
Daniel's sister relaxed, her smile returning. "Thanks, Y/n," she said, giving her a quick hug. "I'm glad you're here. It's been too long since we've all gotten together like this."
Y/n nodded, her eyes drifting back to Daniel. He was watching her intently, a small smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. She couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, her heart skipping a beat at the intensity of his gaze.
Y/n made her way around the room, greeting Daniel's parents and other family members with warm hugs and friendly smiles. She chatted with them briefly, asking about their week and catching up on any news.
When she finally made her way to Daniel, she acted as if they were just casual acquaintances, rather than the lovers who had spent the past few days tangled in each other's arms.
"Hi Daniel," she said, offering him a polite smile. "It's good to see you."
Daniel's eyes sparkled with mischief as he stood up to greet her. "Y/n," he said, his voice low and warm. "I'm so glad you could make it."
He leaned in to hug her, his body pressing close for just a moment longer than was necessary. Y/n suppressed a shiver, remembering the feel of his skin against hers.
As they pulled apart, Daniel's mother called out from across the room. "Daniel, dear, could you help your father bring in the food from the grill? Y/n, why don't you come sit with me and catch up?"
"I'll be staying her for a couple of weeks, unless something happens at work," Y/n jokes. The older woman could only laugh, understanding how work can ruin a vacation.
Daniel's mother nodded, her eyes twinkling with approval. "That's wonderful," she said. "We're so glad you'll be here for a while. It's always a pleasure to have you around."
She leaned in closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "And who knows? Maybe you'll even find a nice young man to settle down with while you're here."
Y/n felt her cheeks heat up at the implication, her mind immediately flashing to her secret trysts with Daniel. "Oh, I don't know about that," she said, trying to keep her voice light and casual. "I'm not really looking for anything serious right now."
Daniel's mother waved her hand dismissively. "Nonsense," she said. "You're young and beautiful, you should be out there enjoying life and meeting new people."
Y/n just smiled and nodded, not wanting to reveal the truth about her relationship with Daniel. She knew it would only complicate things, and she wasn't ready to deal with the potential fallout.
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Y/n and Daniel's sister were down in the basement, the sound of the pool balls clicking and clacking filling the air. They had been catching up for hours, laughing and reminiscing about old times.
"Remember that time we snuck out to go to that concert?" Daniel's sister asked, lining up her shot. "Your parents were so mad when they found out."
Y/n giggled, taking her own shot and sinking the 8-ball. "They grounded me for a month," she said, grinning. "But it was totally worth it. That show was amazing."
His sister nodded, racking up the balls for another game. "Those were the days," she said, a wistful smile on her face. "I miss being young and carefree like that."
Daniel's sister suddenly snapped her fingers, a light bulb going off in her head. "Oh! I almost forgot," she said, rummaging through her purse. "I have a gift for you."
She pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped box and handed it to Y/n. "Here," she said, grinning. "Consider it a welcome home present."
Y/n's eyes widened as she took the box from Daniel's sister, her mind racing with the memory of that phone call. She had completely forgotten about the conversation between Daniel and his sister, and the fact that she had chosen the necklace without even realizing it.
"Oh wow," she said, carefully opening the box. Inside was a beautiful gold necklace with a delicate pendant in the shape of a butterfly. "It's gorgeous," she breathed, running her fingers over the cool metal.
Daniel's sister beamed, clearly pleased with Y/n's reaction. "I'm so glad you like it," she said. "Daniel said you'd prefer this over lipstick, so I thought it was the perfect choice."
Y/n carefully removed the necklace from the box, her fingers trembling slightly as she fastened the clasp at the back of her neck. The cool metal felt smooth against her skin.
"Thank you so much," she said, turning to face Daniel's sister with a bright smile. "It's absolutely beautiful. I love it."
Daniel's sister grinned, clearly pleased with Y/n's reaction. "I'm so glad you like it," she said, giving Y/n a quick hug. "And I have to say, it looks perfect on you."
Y/n's hand instinctively went to the pendant, her fingers tracing the delicate wings of the butterfly.
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Daniel's sister yawned, stretching her arms above her head. "I think I'm going to head up to bed," she said, gathering her things. "It's been a long day."
Y/n nodded, understanding. "Of course, I'll be up in a bit," she said. "I just want to finish this game first."
Daniel's sister smiled, giving Y/n a quick hug before heading up the stairs. As soon as she was gone, Y/n turned back to the pool table, lining up her shot.
She had always been a bit competitive, and she couldn't resist the challenge of sinking all the remaining balls. She took her time, focusing on each shot, the click of the balls, and the thwack of the cue against the felt the only sounds in the basement.
As Y/n lined up her shot, ready to sink the last of the three remaining balls, she heard a clap from the top of the stairs. She turned to see Daniel standing there, a smile on his face.
"Impressive," he said, his voice low and appreciative. "I didn't know you were so good at pool."
She grinned, setting her cue down on the table. "I've been practicing," she said, walking towards him. "But I think you already knew that, didn't you?"
Daniel's eyes darkened as she approached, his gaze trailing over her body. "I knew you were good at a lot of things," he murmured, his voice husky.
Y/n's breath caught in her throat, her body responding to the heat in his gaze. She stopped just in front of him, looking up at him through her lashes. "Is that so?" she asked, her voice breathy.
Daniel closed the distance between them, his hands sliding around her waist as he lifted her up onto the pool table. Y/n gasped, her legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he stepped between them.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a teasing kiss. "I think you know exactly what I mean," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin.
Y/n's hands slid up his chest, tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. "Show me," she whispered, her lips hovering just inches from his.
Daniel groaned, his mouth crashing against hers in a passionate kiss. His hands roamed over her body, slipping under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her back.
Y/n moaned into the kiss, her hips grinding against his. She could feel his hardness pressing against her, and it sent a shiver of desire coursing through her.
"Daniel," she gasped, breaking the kiss to look up at him. "We can't... not here..."
His hands slid down to cup Y/n's face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks. "Shh," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "It's okay. Everyone's asleep. We can..."
He trailed off, his gaze dropping to her lips. "Fuck, you're so pretty," he breathed, his eyes dark with desire.
Y/n's heart raced, her body aching with need. She knew they shouldn't be doing this, not here, not with his family just upstairs. But the way Daniel was looking at her, the way his hands felt on her skin... she couldn't resist.
"Daniel," she whispered, her voice trembling with anticipation. "Please..."
Daniel's eyes blazed with desire as he looked down at Y/n, his hands still cupping her face. "Please what, sweetheart?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. "What do you want?"
Y/n's breath hitched, her lips parting slightly as she gazed up at him. "I want you," she whispered, her voice trembling with need. "I want you to touch me, to kiss me, to make me yours."
Daniel groaned, his head dipping to nuzzle into her neck. "Fuck, Y/n," he breathed, his lips brushing against her skin. "You have no idea how badly I want that too."
His hands slid down her body, slipping under her shirt to caress the smooth skin of her stomach. Y/n shivered, her hips arching up to press against him.
"Please, Daniel," she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. "I need you."
His lips crashed against Y/n's in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into her mouth to tangle with hers. Y/n moaned, her fingers tugging at his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers.
As they kissed, their hands roamed over each other's bodies, exploring and teasing. Y/n's fingers slipped under the waistband of Daniel's shorts, her nails raking over the sensitive skin of his lower back.
"I need you so bad," she gasped, breaking the kiss to look up at him with hooded eyes. "Please, Daniel, I can't wait anymore."
Daniel chuckled, his fingers tangling in her hair. "Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Now suck."
He brought his fingers to her lips, his meaning clear. Y/n's eyes widened, but she didn't hesitate. She parted her lips, taking his fingers into her mouth and sucking them deep.
After a moment, Daniel pulled his fingers from Y/n's mouth, a low groan escaping his lips at the sensation. "Let go," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
Y/n released his fingers, her eyes dark and needy as she watched him. Daniel's free hand moved to her shorts, his fingers deftly pushing the fabric and her panties to the side.
"Fuck, you're so wet," he breathed, his fingers brushing against her slick folds. Y/n gasped, her hips bucking up to meet his touch.
Slowly, Daniel pushed his spit-covered fingers into her tight heat, his thumb circling her clit as he did. Y/n cried out, her head falling back against the pool table as pleasure coursed through her.
Daniel's fingers pumped in and out of Y/n's wet heat, his thumb circling her clit in tight, teasing circles. "That feels good, doesn't it?" he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Just like all the times I've fucked you this week. On the couch, on the kitchen counter, in the bathtub…"
Y/n moaned, her hips rocking against his hand. "Yes," she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "God, yes. It feels so good."
Daniel grinned, his eyes dark with lust. "I love seeing you like this," he growled, his fingers curling inside her, hitting that spot that made her see stars. "I love knowing that I'm the only one who can make you feel this way."
Y/n's breath came in short, sharp gasps, her body tensing as she neared the edge. "Daniel," she whimpered, her nails raking down his back. "Please, I need more."
Y/n whined in protest as Daniel suddenly pulled his fingers from her sopping cunt, leaving her empty and aching for more. But her whine quickly turned into a gasp as she felt the head of his cock pressing against her sensitive clit.
"Daniel," she breathed, her hips bucking up to meet his touch. "Please, I need you inside me."
Daniel chuckled, his eyes dark with lust as he looked down at her. "Patience, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "I'm going to take my time with you."
He rocked his hips, the tip of his cock sliding through her wet folds, teasing her entrance but not quite pushing inside. Y/n moaned, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she tried to pull him closer.
"Fuck, you're so wet for me," Daniel groaned, his hips circling, spreading her arousal around her clit. "I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock."
He finally pushed forward, his thick cock sliding into Y/n's tight heat in one smooth stroke. Y/n's mouth opened in a silent scream of pleasure, her eyes rolling back as he filled her completely.
Daniel covered her mouth with his hand, his fingers pressing against her lips. "Shh," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "We can't have anyone hearing you, can we?"
Y/n shook her head, her lips brushing against his fingers as she nodded. She bit down on his hand, muffling her moans as Daniel began to move, his hips rocking against hers in a steady rhythm.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his free hand gripping her hip tightly. "So tight and wet and perfect."
Y/n's nails raked down his back, her hips lifting to meet his thrusts. The pool table creaked beneath them, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the basement.
Y/n rocked her hips against Daniel's, her clit rubbing against his pelvis with each thrust. The friction was delicious, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through her body.
"Oh god, Daniel," she gasped, her voice muffled against his hand. "Don't stop, please don't stop."
Daniel's grip on her hip tightened, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his hips snapping against hers. "You're so fucking tight. I'm not going to last much longer."
Y/n could feel her orgasm building, her body tensing as she neared the edge. "Me neither," she whimpered, her nails digging into his back. "I'm so close, Daniel. Please, make me cum."
Daniel's hand slid from her mouth to her breast, his fingers pinching and rolling her nipple through the thin fabric of her shirt. "Cum for me, Y/n," he growled, his hips pounding into her. "Cum all over my cock like the good girl you are."
Daniel's thrusts became erratic, his body tensing as he neared his own release. "Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his hips slamming into hers. "I'm going to cum."
Y/n's orgasm hit her like a freight train, her body convulsing as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. "Daniel!" she cried out, her voice echoing in the basement.
Daniel thrust deep one last time, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed inside her. He rocked his hips, pushing his cum deeper, his fingers digging into her hips.
Y/n's walls fluttered around him, milking him for every last drop. She could feel his hot cum filling her, the sensation prolonging her own orgasm.
As Daniel's orgasm subsided, he began to pull out of Y/n, his softening cock slipping from her sensitive heat. But before he could fully withdraw, a voice rang out from the top of the stairs. "What the actual fuck?"
Daniel and Y/n both froze, their eyes widening as they looked up to see Daniel's sister standing at the bottom of the stairs, her mouth hanging open in shock.
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