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reignpage · 7 days ago

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In Sheep's Clothing

Synopsis: in which you're alone in a cabin in the woods during a rough snow storm and an enigmatic, sexy wolf hybrid!Toji turns up at your door providing much more than his handyman service Warnings: plot with a side of porn, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, creampie, knotting, degradation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, masturbation, praise kink, rough sex, manhandling, cowgirl, thigh fucking, hair pulling, slight anal play, biting, dom!toji, blowjob, allusion to shower sex, dirty talk, dry humping, pussyjob, fingering, panty sniffing, cum eating, spanking, titty slapping, pussy slapping, biting, dumbification, primal play to the extreme, !!dark themes!! beware cannot emphasise this enough people (dw there's no gore or noncon or anything, it's just the nature of the plot), acts of violence, angst, fem!reader, romance, barely proofread Word Count: 19.9k (it's a lot I know I know sowwy)

Perhaps running away to the mountains and hiding in the woods wasn’t the greatest idea you’ve ever had. But it was the only one you had at the time. Your grandmother’s cabin is a little run-down, though that was expected considering how many years it had been since she passed, still, it has solid bones and you can’t complain.

It’s a two bedroom bungalow — spacious enough for a family, what with its generous kitchen and hearty fireplace, but far too small for you. Dust has settled on all imaginable surface and it took hours to remove the coverings on every sofa, chair, table, and bed, and even longer to wash everything that could be washed by hand, since the washing machine and dryer in the back room have long since given up on themselves.

Most of your days since whisking yourself away here is spent dusting, washing, wiping, and cooking. You’ve yet to feel the dent you’ve been chipping away at. There’s still a draught coming from the front door, the main heating system isn’t working, and somewhere, in every corner, is an odd creaking that keeps you up at night.

Sighing, you glance out of the window, curled up underneath a mountain of blankets, and watch the snow fall. It’s always snowing here. It was barely possible to trek up here as a snowstorm was creeping in; the townspeople were less than eager to even hear you out until you flashed an extortionate amount of money.

A nice, elderly man took pity, though, upon discovering your last name. He knew your granny. Said she was a sweet soul with a real talent for baking. Having ordered one of his sons to drive you up, he gave you his telephone number, insisting that if you ever needed anything, anything at all, they would come at the drop of a hat.

That warmed your heart a little. The kindness of a stranger is not something you’re familiar with and thought you’d never get to experience, but there he was, smiling, and waving the cash away like it was the silliest thing in the world and it had no real consequence.

It had been four days since and you won’t lie, you have considered phoning in that favour. You’re way out of your depth here. With a sigh, you pull a blanket, red and knitted by your grandmother, up to your chin and continue to watch the snow fall. Even though you’re at your wits end with all the scrubbing this cabin needs, you couldn’t possibly call it quits now and beg the man to come up just to take you down. How embarrassing would that be?

You hear knocking.

There’s someone at the door, pounding. Your heart begins to beat fast. You must have mistaken the sound of the wind howling for a knock at the door. After all, you are miles away from the town and the snow is far too thick for anyone to have gotten up here. Would it be wise to get up from the warmth of your sofa to be sure?

The knocking gets louder, more adamant. Okay, so you weren’t, in fact, mistaken. Something about that noise, unyielding and firm, pierces your heart. You can’t imagine being out in this weather. You’re at the door faster than you can even process the speed at which your feet moved.

When you fling the door open, the freezing wind attacks, stinging your cheeks and nipping at your skin. Arms rushing to hug the blanket you thoughtfully to drag with you tighter around your body, you squint up through the blinding white of the snow at a hulking beast.

Broad shouldered and glaring, he watches you cower beneath his gaze. He’s dressed in a simple, fitted t-shirt and baggy joggers, and you feel impossibly colder just by looking at him. His face is hidden behind a disheveled beard, rough and scratchy. He’s a very hairy man.

“H-hello. Can I help you?”

His nose twitches. He jerks his chin to something behind you. “You’re cooking. I’m hungry.”

Without waiting for a reply, he pushes past you. Pressing yourself close to the door frame, you just about avoid the graze of his arm against you. This turn of events has your head spinning. Who does this man think he is?

The wind howls harder. You slam the door shut. “Excuse me! You can’t just walk in as you please. This is my home. Get out.”

He doesn’t look back, doesn’t even register what you say. Instead, he crosses into the kitchen and lifts the lid of the pot of stew you’ve been working on for hours and grunts. When he fixes himself a bowl, you’re left speechless at how he seems to move on autopilot, opening cabinets and drawers for what he needs without so much as a glance.

Now he’s sitting at the table, scarfing down your stew and you’re bewildered, spluttering. You’re being Punk’d.

“Who do you think you are? I told you to get out. I’m gonna call the police if you don’t within the next five seconds!”

He snorts.

“The police?” His voice is gravelly, seemingly from lack of use. “Ain’t nobody getting up ‘ere in this state.”

That’s what every serial killer says, and you should be afraid, should be running for help. But there’s no hint of malice or cruel intent in his words, only amusement, the way one responds to a child’s whims.

“Well, you should still afford me the decency of leaving my home when asked.”

“Your home? Didn’t know the old lady gave it away.”

You gulp, clutching the thick blanket even tighter. “You knew my grandmother?”

He grunts.

Well aware you really ought to kick him out, you’re ashamed at the realisation that you can’t bring yourself to. It’s awfully terrible outside and there’s no doubt the elements would claim him if he he’s left out with no shelter. Though, that really shouldn’t be your responsibility and there is still, of course, the glaring concern of his ability to kill you. One sweep of his figure and you know this towering man, tall and muscular, could snap your neck with one hand.

Or worse.

Not to mention, he’s a hybrid. You can tell by the twitching of his ears and his nose, like he’s hearing and smelling things inscrutable by the human senses. You wonder what he is. He has no triangular ears or fluffy tail like a dog, he doesn’t have eyes like a cat, no scales that you can see, but his teeth, when he scrapes them along the spoon, you know they’re much sharper than you’d like to ever find out.

If he wanted to kill you, he could have done that before. And at any rate, it’s too late to do anything about it now. He knows you’re alone and there’s nowhere you can run to before the snow freezes your limbs.

Settling back down onto the sofa, you just watch him eat. He’s grabbed a second helping, enjoying the meat more than the potatoes and carrots in there but that’s expected of a man. It does mean, though, that he’s not a herbivore hybrid. You wonder if he likes the taste of a woman’s flesh.

“Is it good?” You ponder.

There’s something oddly peaceful about observing him — the way he only chews once and twice before swallowing and shoving another spoonful, the way his throat contracts, how his huge hands grasps the bowl and spoon like they could be ripped away from him before he’s finished, and even the way his foot taps, impatient and tense.

He throws you a cursory glance. “It’s good.”

A second helping disappears. So does a third.

“It seems like you haven’t eaten in days. Or showered. Or rested.”

Huffing, he leans back in the chair, full perhaps. He scratches his stomach under his shirt and you look away at the flash of skin. In a drawl, he concedes, “Y’r right on the money.”

You note how he doesn’t offer more. And you know by the way he’s observing you in return that he’s expecting you to ask for more. You don’t. It’s stupid. Suicidal even. But a little company to weather this snow storm might not be so bad.

“I’ll allow you to stay here until the snow passes but no longer than that. There’s a second bedroom in the back, you can use that. The boiler’s broken or something so the radiators aren’t working, neither is the hot water in the shower. So, unfortunately, this isn’t going to be a stay at a five star hotel but we’ll both get along just fine if we maintain boundaries and do our part.”

He grunts. That seems to be his preferred way of communicating. Fine by you. You never liked talkative people anyways. “I want a hot shower. So do you by the looks of it. I’ll go down and check the boiler out.”

Startled, you laugh. “You know how to fix things?”

The look he gives you is answer enough and with no further words exchanged, he marches down the hall, obviously all too familiar with the layout of the cabin — did he stay here after she died, when the house was empty and unused?

Or maybe he stayed with your grandmother and that was how she got along just fine on her own after your grandfather died.

After thirty minutes or so, he emerges, some grease smeared on his face, and he presses the back of his hand to the radiator by where you sit. He’s standing very close. And from your position, hugging your knees under all these blankets, he looks so much bigger and stronger.

“It’s fixed. For now. Shit’s old so might need regular maintenance,” he explains. “Ya wanna shower first or what?”

Considering he fixed the damn thing, he should have the first go, shouldn’t he? Especially as he’s been out in the cold for goodness how long.

“I’ll shower first,” you say.

He nods.

Unfurling yourself from your cocoon, you stumble to a stand. He doesn’t move, doesn’t give you space. Your chest brushes against his. Tingling rushes down your spine at the graze of your nipples. You hastily move past him, embarrassed and suddenly nervous.

“I’ll be quick. Um, feel free to have more stew and I don’t know if you have any clothes or anything, but my grandmother kept some of her husband’s clothes, you’ll find them in your room — the second bedroom, I mean. Just down the hall, by the bathroom.”

He doesn’t reply and you don’t wait for him to .

In your rush to save face, you just miss the way his lips twitch in one corner.

You had forgotten how wonderful a hot shower is. The way you’re enveloped by warmth and your tense muscles loosen and relax under the barrage of water. You take much longer than you usually do, intent on thoroughly enjoying the water like it could grow legs and make a run for it. Eventually, you’re bathed and fresh. Much fresher than you’ve been in the last couple days since you didn’t have to hurry through your routine or curse under your breath at the burning chill of the water, mocking your ineptitude and foolish spontaneity.

When you come out, dressed in a sweater and joggers, you’re pleased to find the house much warmer than before. The fireplace is even lit, the orange and red flames dancing with as much joy as you feel. More cozy and welcoming, the cabin has completely transformed in what feels like a blink of an eye. Before, the clinical white lights overhead flickered on its last legs, completely and utterly useless, now only the fireplace sheds light, covering the living room and kitchen in a snug ember.

It feels reminiscent of Christmas evenings you never had.

Your guest doesn’t look surprised when you approach — he probably heard you every step of the way — but he does push off the sofa and give you a look over, nodding as if satisfied to see you out of the blankets you wore like a second skin.

Just as he brushes past you, you grasp his arm. Nerves light up. You drop it like it burns. “Sorry. I, um, just wanted to say thanks. And uh, I guess we should introduce each other. Sorry I didn’t do it sooner. I’m not really sure why I didn’t. Maybe I was just mentally prepared to not speak to another person for a while or something.”

Tilting his head at you, he releases a huff of air through his nose and says, “Name’s Toji. You’re y/n; the old lady talked about you.”

“Oh.”

Likely sensing that’s as much as you’re going to say, he disappears into the bathroom with a pile of clothes and a towel in hand that you didn’t even notice — maybe because you were far too distracted by how handsome he looks under the glow of the fire or how his skin felt nice, all hard and soft and heated the way only a man could be.

Or maybe, just maybe, it was because the first thing you really noticed upon entering the living room was not the way it had been transformed or how normal it looked for such a big man to be taking up space here, but rather how this ‘Toji’ was sitting in the exact same spot you’d been making your little home when he came.

When you awake the next day, you’re surprised he’s still asleep. It was almost midday and there’s no sign of him having walked through the cabin before you. There’s no way you’ll knock on his door. Truthfully, you were surprised, pleasantly so it must be said, to find yourself alive and untouched. You don’t guilty for thinking the worst and you’re not naive enough to think better of him for not being a serial killer, that’s simply the bare minimum.

But it does mean he’s a man of his word and you can let down a little of your guard.

Instead of worrying more about what he’s doing in his room, you busy yourself with breakfast. Toji had finished the stew when you came out of the shower and you were impressed by his appetite, albeit also concerned for your stock; at this rate, your food will run out much faster than you had planned and there’s no telling when the weather will get well enough to call out the old man for help.

You bake a sourdough, fry up some eggs and sausages and put the kettle on for some coffee — instant, unlike the ones you’re used to in the big city but it’ll have to do. You’re careful not to make too much noise, although you feel a little embarrassed at how thoughtful you’re being.

Just as you put the plate down, he emerges, shirtless, hand scratching the trail of hair low on his stomach. His hair is mussed up, sticking at all angles, and the plaid pyjama bottoms he must gotten from your grandfather’s box of old clothes hang low on his hips, distinct v-lines peeking in a terrifyingly sinful way. He has fairly thick hair on his arms and chest, the very definition of unkept and wild.

You clear your throat.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

He throws you a look, full of amusement, before he sits down at the table. He must have smelt the food and known somehow you were meaning to share. How presumptuous of him. “Slept fine.”

You serve him his portion, larger than your own, and pour him coffee to which he doesn’t say no. “Not going to ask me how I slept?”

He snorts. “Don’t hafta. You tossed and turned the whole night.”

“You have really good hearing, don’t you? What kind of hybrid are you?”

He eats much slower than yesterday, mulling the taste over rather than scarfing it down, and he seems pleased enough with your cooking skills. For reasons you don’t want to think too much about, you’re feeling pretty proud of yourself.

“Wolf,” he replies.

You’ve never met a wolf before. But they are an infamous breed — they needed constant medication to keep their animal instincts at bay, they stuck by their own kind, were aggressive to outsiders, and are known for being fiercely loyal and protective. Toji doesn’t seem to match the description. He’s alone for one and he moves with grace like a deer and not like a clunky predator.

“How did you know my grandmother, if I may?” You ponder. In all of the letters she’s written to you, she had never mentioned knowing a hybrid like Toji, or any hybrids for that matter.

He lifts one shoulder in a shrug and shared, “Helped her around during winters just like these. She was too old to get down by herself and there were always things needing fixing.”

“She gave you warm food in return?”

He grunts.

“How did you know she died?” Raising a brow at your question, you explain, “You said she ‘was’ too old.”

Barking a sudden laugh, you find the noise tickling your skin and you can’t stop staring at the way his face softens for just the quickest second and ever so lightly. You’re ashamed to admit the noise makes you warmer inside than it should.

“I come sniffing around soon as snow starts to fall. It’s routine. A habit. I was the one who found her. Notified the townspeople and went on my way.” He takes a sip of the coffee, green eyes never leaving yours. “Haven’t been back in years.”

His voice is gruff and now that you’re sat face-to-face with him, it’s clear as day that he’s not used to the sound of his own voice; he furrows his brows and stumbles upon certain words like they’re foreign, as if he’s struggling to reconcile the reality that those words are coming from him.

“So what made you come here?”

No answer.

The rest of breakfast passes by in relative silence, the distant moan of the wind outside providing enough noise to wash away the awkwardness of eating with a stranger. You want to tell him you’d prefer if he didn’t walk around so bare but that seemed too big of an ask since it’s likely he runs hotter as a wolf than you do. Eyes falling to your neck and your chest unashamedly, he doesn’t shy away from eye contact.

You do though.

Then he stands, taking both your and his plate over to the sink. He begins washing up. That actually takes you by surprise. This Toji fella didn’t strike you as the type to partake in house chores. Rather, he seems like the type to firmly believe the kitchen is a woman’s domain. Interestingly enough, his back is marked up, full of scars, and they ripple with his muscles. You want to ask about them but he’s not a man who offers answers and you’re not the kind of woman who should poke and prod.

“Right, well.” You stand too. “I was wondering if you know how to fix a washing machine. And a dryer. Neither are working and washing my sheets and panties in the bath is a pain.

His eyes flick to you as you wipe away at a spot on the counter dirtied by flour. You probably shouldn’t have used the word ‘panties’ in front of a man like him but you thought it would be funny. He doesn’t seem to think so. He gives you a half-nod and you feel satisfied enough from that interaction to pad over to the sofa to read a book.

Toji begins working around the cabin — he heads over to the laundry room and you hear the clatter of metal and thumping against the floor. Upon emerging and giving you the look that says ‘it’s done’, he also starts looking for something in the basement. He carries up a box of lightbulbs in one arm and a ladder in another.

When you jolt up, to offer help, he cuts you another look that says ‘don’t you dare’, and you sit back down. He seems to have his own way of doing things and he knows you’ll only get in the way. Maybe he noticed that your nails are long and clean and he can somehow, with his wolfy powers, sense your hands have never touched dirt.

Still working on this and that around the house, you serve him his lunch and you eat separately. If this becomes your routine then that’ll be ideal. He does all the cleaning and fixing and you cook. Sure, it might be setting back the feminist movement just a little but things like that don’t matter up here, where it’s freezing and you have no idea how you managed for days without him.

Much more quickly than you could have ever expected, the day ends and night falls.

“Thanks for the help,” you say, handing him a glass of your grandmother’s moonshine. You remember where she kept it from your childhood and now, soon after dinner, just sat by the fireplace, feels as good a time as any to bust it out.

You’re both leaning against the sofa, right by the fireplace, choosing to be on the rug rather than on the soft couch. You can’t remember who followed who, but you suppose it doesn’t matter. In just one day he had solved most of the problems you’ve nearly cried over.

Toji grunts.

He’s wearing a shirt now, thin and plain. Your grandfather was a much smaller man so this shirt is practically bursting at the seams on his huge bicep but he doesn’t seem to mind. You do, though. It’s rather distracting actually. His skin brushes against yours and neither of you move away.

The flames are the only light here and you feel its warmth settling on your face, lulling you to comfort. Stronger than any alcohol you’ve ever had, the moonshine burns your throat, lighting you up inside. Your companion appears to be unimpressed with the concoction, downing the cup in one gulp.

Slightly embarrassed by your inexperience, despite being an adult, you ask, “Where were you staying before? You said you come here for winter so where do you stay for the rest of the year? Same place you’ve been staying at since my grandmother died? Or somewhere different?”

Throwing an arm on the sofa, right behind your head, he admits, “Nowhere. Everywhere. Just moved around a lot.”

“Why didn’t you just stay here? If you talked to her enough to know about me, then surely she must have told you no one ever visits since everyone in the family hates the cold. You would have had the place all to yourself.”

“I never stay in one place for too long.”

You skim the rim of your glass, watching the clear liquid swirl with the glow of the fireplace. “Why not?”

He waits until you can’t bear the silence, until you feel that itch to look up, to meet his gaze. And when you do, there’s some intensity in his eyes that seems to make the alcohol in your stomach burn just a little more. A finger of his twirls a lock of your hair and he murmurs, “Never had a reason to.”

Nodding, you settle for watching the fire.

And when the bottle of moonshine was depleted, you left to sleep and he stayed, a scalding brand marking your back and you couldn’t bear to look back to know if it was from the fireplace or from him.

That was how your first day went.

On the second day, you repeat more or less the same routine: you make breakfast, you eat together, he goes and fixes something else, you make lunch, you eat separately, he fixes some more things, you make dinner, and you share a drink or two, and sleep.

Occasionally, you’ll run into each other and you still struggle to meet his eyes, having to crane your head so far back to get a good look. Sometimes when you do gather the courage to look up at him, he’s already looking at your chest, green eyes slowly rising up to your face. His brow rises in challenge just as hip lip twitches. He doesn’t care at all. The man had no manners.

But he washes the dishes after every mealtime and he doesn’t really make a mess, so you can’t complain when he takes his visual fill of your body. There’s no harm in looking, only a priest would ever know that you do the same thing; there’s always a sizeable bulge in his trousers that you can’t keep your eye off, totally only out of curiosity.

The day starts off with an exchange of ‘g’morning’ and a ‘g’night’.

The third day tells the same story.

On the fourth day, however, only one thing out of the ordinary happens and it isn’t anything to write home about but you can’t get it out of your mind, as you lay in bed wide awake. The wolf hybrid had needed to get past you to get something from the fridge and on his way, he gripped your hips, lightly and barely a whisper, but his finger had brushed a sliver of skin where your shirt had risen up.

His touch was startling, petrifying, making the hairs along your body stand on edge, but more than anything, it was completely and utterly exhilarating.

When your hand wandered down into your panties that night, you tried your best to stifle your moans with your pillow, chasing the high that followed you the entire day. You fell asleep sticky, sweaty and unrepentant.

The fifth day goes by just fine too. Appreciative of the little song and dance you two have choreographed, you find yourself less and less anxious about the snow and the world beyond. There’s just something about this Toji fella — he’s quiet in a way that would be off-putting from anyone else, but you find it comforting. It’s different from the way everything worked in the city, where silences are this obscene monstrosity that must be filled with the clattering of a busybody.

Here, with him, you can just breathe in the hot cocoa and the smoky ash burning in the fireplace as you sit by him, shoulder to shoulder, on the rug and not on the sofa. He doesn’t ask questions about why you never visited your grandmother, why you haven’t talked about your family or your friends, or why you don’t ask him questions.

You like to think too that he appreciates you keeping your curiosity at bay.

Maybe that’s why he lets you rest your head on his shoulder, why he doesn’t nudge you off when your breath begins to even out and your lashes flutters shut, and maybe, just maybe, it’s why he carries you to bed and lays you down so gently you dream of solid arms, green sparkles in the snow, and fluffy clouds that brush your hair back.

What you weren’t prepared for, however, is the sixth day. It started off just like any other day: breakfast, reading on the sofa whilst he fixes something or the other, and then lunch eaten separately.

But, the hybrid must have gotten oil spilled on him when he was tinkering with something in the cellar because he went to shower during the day, instead of at night like you both do. This fact wasn’t known to you. It really wasn’t even on your mind. And that’s why disaster struck.

Walking into the bathroom to grab something — you can’t even remember what it was and why you were so focused on retrieving it, you hadn’t registered the sound of running water and the fact that the room was steamier than usual — you were met with a sight no HR training could ever prepare you for. Because, there, right in front of you, was your roommate, buck naked with water dripping down his chiseled body, catching on the curly hairs on his chest and lower abdomen. He was leaning with one arm on the glass of the shower stall, forehead pressed onto his forearm whilst the other made slow, leisurely strokes somewhere low, somewhere the steam gravitated towards.

Forward and back, forward and back, forward...and…back.

All while his eyes, like freshly cut grass, stayed unmoving, watching you watch him. Feet sinking deeper into the tiles, you were stuck where you are, heaving chest matching his as he let out a grunt, wrist jerking faster, splashing so much water everywhere you could almost feel them land on your skin through the glass.

Your phone pinged from your hand. You didn’t realise you were holding it. That was just about enough to break the trance he had you under. Wordlessly, you turned back and left, the door clicking shut behind you, and you busied yourself with preparing for dinner.

When he walked out, dressed, you could see from your peripheral, you grunted in acknowledgement after he let you know he was going to get some wood from outside.

Dinner was eaten separately too.

Instead of watching the fireplace, side by side, sharing whatever drink you’ve prepared, you’re settled comfortably under your blankets, hand rubbing furiously in your panties and eyes shut tightly, chasing flashing images of something sinful, delicious, the very source of your delirium.

Your orgasm is shallow. It’s why you’re conscious enough to notice, through the gap between your door and the floor, that the hallway light is still on and just as you exhale your last lust-induced moan, it disappears, leaving your senses focused solely on the sound of feet padding away.

You don’t get any sleep.

“G’morning,” you chirp.

The kettle is boiling and you’re serving the last of the eggs and bacon onto pancakes you made from scratch. There are still some meat frozen but the vegetables and fruits are almost gone and there’s no other way about it — you’re going to have to go down to get some more food. What had supposed to last you comfortably, at least two weeks, is now on its last crumbs before the first seven days had reached its end.

His green eyes flick to yours and with a small smirk, beard twitching, he asks, “Sleep well?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you try to ignore the burning of your face and the sudden shake in your hands. Of course he had heard. Of course! Because, lost in the haze of the shallow pleasure, you had forgotten that you’re living with a man that is far from ordinary.

So is his hearing.

“Oh, great,” you grit out. “And you?”

A snort of what you can only guess to be amusement is released from him and when he brushes past you, his heat only sets those embers ablaze again. He doesn’t answer.

Once sat down and eating, it’s your roommate who suggests more food is needed — as he should, considering it’s because of his insane appetite that things have turned out so hopeless so quickly.

“How could we possibly get more food in this weather? No one can get up here and walking down is not an option. I mean, just looking at all that snow makes me feel like death is creeping in.”

“Don’t gotta leave,” he says with a grunt. “I’ll go.”

Spluttering, you practically shriek, “You? Are you insane? You’ll die.”

His green eyes glint. “Will the pretty little city girl be sad if I do?”

“Will the big, bad wolf listen and stay if I say yes?”

Toji barks out a laugh. Breakfast ends soon after.

An hour passes and, as you read a book, you think that that’s the last of that. But of course it isn’t. Just as you finish a chapter, the wolf in question comes out of his room in a worn out coat too small for him and a firm look on his face. He can’t possibly be serious.

Ignoring your protests, he heads over to the door and doesn’t spare you a glance. It’s only when you tell him he needs money that he does pause. Typical macho men, thinking with their muscles and not their heads, you grumble in your mind. He waits for you to grab your purse and shove it in his hand.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

Your question is met with an eye roll.

“Yeah, quit worrying. I’ll be back before you know it.” He sounds so sure. You’re inclined to believe him. Something about how sturdy he looks makes him sound convincing enough; Toji’s built like an oak tree, with deep-reaching roots and a thick trunk that could withstand the harshest storms and mightiest blows. But all trees can be felled, if one tries hard enough.

He must have smelt the doubt pouring out of every pore because then he’s making a sound of pure exasperation. “Alright, listen. I’m a wolf, yeah? I’ve been through worse.”

Eyes darting from the snow and to his deadpan face, you mutter, “Just because you’ve been through worse doesn’t mean you should go through more. You can just stay and keep warm. With me. I can’t help you if you’re out there.”

There’s a silence, like a sudden gust. And then a sigh.

In less than a second, you find your jaw being gripped with one large hand and your head is pushed to the side just as his face buries itself in the crook of your neck, the rough hairs of his beard tickling your skin. The growl that escapes him pulls a gasp out of you and then he’s gone.

With the speed at which the door flies open and closes, you barely feel the sharp sting of the cold. Or maybe you do feel the full brunt of it, but it’s overshadowed by the envigorating rush that came from that big man inhaling your scent before he left.

You wonder if he liked what he smelt.

Before, it felt like time was passing at a snail’s pace, but now it’s like time isn’t passing at all — you’re stuck in some sort of pathetic limbo where you spend every meaningless second switching tasks. From brushing the floor to rearranging the books on the shelves in the corner to dusting every surface to lying in bed and so on and so forth. It feels somewhat akin to engraving tallies into the walls with a paperclip.

Alone, truly alone, you can do nothing but focus on the feeling of ice creeping into your bloodstream. The heaters are on and you can very easily set the wood burning in the fireplace if need be since he taught you. But you don’t want to; you’re lazy. That’s the excuse you’d tell Toji if he asks, biting down the real reason and never spitting it out.

The shivers wracking your body is what you deserve for letting that man go to get food on your behalf. The quivering of your lips is due to the fact that you could have — should have— gone with him, should have bundled him up in something thicker and warmer, and yourself maybe, so you two could trek together to the town. At least, if one of you were to be injured, there’s someone there to pick you back up.

Who will pick him up?

Gnawing on a nail, your eyes dart, for the millionth time, outside the window, fuzzy socks rubbing against each other as you shuffle on the floor. Night is falling and he still isn’t here. You’re beyond worried.

How long does it take to hike down and up anyways? It took about an hour by car, so surely it wouldn’t take longer than a day at the very most, right?

But spending even just an hour in this snow, wearing just a coat, would be fatal for anyone, wolf hybrid or not, right? And he’s attempting to bring up groceries?

Oh, God.

You’ve allowed that man to walk right into his death. No, you’ve sent him off to die. You’re a killer. Or maybe he’s not coming back. Maybe this was just a ploy to leave without an awkward goodbye. He got what he wanted — roof over his head, a bed, food, warm shower and even a stupid girl to tease. Now that he’s exhausted the supplies, maybe he’s off to try his luck at another cabin.

Is this what it was like with your grandmother?

Did she make sure to stock up as much as possible for the winter to ensure he’d stay the entire time so she can have someone to look after her?

Is that what you’re going to turn into?

A food bank?

You shouldn’t have come up here. You should have stayed in the loud, stifling city in your miserable office job, with your stuffy pantsuits and your overbearing boss. You should have accepted your family’s manufactured smiles and cold hugs. You should never, ever have dared to want more. There is nothing in your entire life you have done, or could have ever done, to deserve more.

A knock comes on the door.

You jerk up.

The blanket falls from your shoulders. Stumbling to a stand, you wipe your hands down your front, trying to steady them, and without waiting for a second knock, you twist the knob that had just been above your head and you flung it open.

“Could hear ya sniffling from miles. You good?”

In front of you is a very hairy man, broad shouldered, coat darkening with the dampness that weighs him down and flakes of snow litter his beard like an upside down tree. He’s scary, hulking and tense, like a wound up toy, ready to explode at any given moment. An ear twitches when you sniffle, just as he said. This man could kill you. He’s strong enough to have been carrying two big, heavy bags, one in each hand, up the mountain. And he knows the exact layout of the cabin, knows there are no hiding spots, no locks in the basement, knows where the axe is, and that the stoker is leaning against the fireplace, too far to get to in time from where you’re standing.

You jump onto him. “Oh my god! I thought you died. Or that you left me!”

He grunts with the force of your body meeting his, but he doesn’t stumble. Bearing the burden of the bags of groceries and your entire weight as you wrap yourself around him like a koala bear, he walks in with ease, kicking the door shut. He saunters over to the kitchen where he deposits the bags on the counter and leaves just enough room to sit you down, untangling your awkward limbs from his torso.

“Ya think too much.”

He pats the wetness, that had transferred from his clothes onto you, down with a tea towel. Your shaky hands reach up, threading your fingers through his beard and his hair, and you brush the snow away. He’s still here. And he’s warm.

“I was so worried something happened to you, Toji,” you whisper.

Stilling, his green eyes flick up to yours, searching, and when he finds the tears threatening to fall he sighs, and presses his forehead against yours, letting you feel the firmness of his presence. He smells like burnt cedar, the musk of the earth, and the saltiness of sea air. With a gravelly voice, he reassures you, “I’m here. Got enough food to last us another week, and by then the snow will stop falling. We’ll be fine”

Your ‘thank you’ stays in your throat when he pulls away and falls on a chair by the dinner table with a grunt so deep and loud you’re snapped back into action — he must be starving and exhausted. Toji did his part and now you must do yours.

Sneaking glances at him, you work as fast as you can, cutting this and boiling that. You know as soon as the onions and garlic hit the pan with the sizzle his nose will start twitching. If it smells delicious to you, you wonder how it must smell to him. Maybe the anticipation of a warm meal was what pulled him home.

You won’t disappoint.

Every second or so, your eyes drift to him, mostly to make sure he’s still breathing, but also because you can’t help it. He’s snoozing, you surmise, when his chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm and his eyes are closed. You move around as quietly as you can.

Plated, you set the steaming soup, fried meat and loaf of bread he had brought down on the table. It’s not the most appealing of all appearances but you know the recipes like the back of your hand so you know he’ll love every thing. Or at least, you hope he will.

Checking all the necessary silverware are on the table, you try to gently coax him awake with a call of his name. He doesn’t answer. You look up with a sigh, ready to jostle him from whatever dream is so beautiful he’s in deep sleep, only to find those frustratingly alluring eyes already on you.

“Smells delicious,” he says, making no effort to gesture to the food.

You gulp and with a weak smile, you sit down and allow him to serve you. “So, how was it? Is the situation bad?”

Toji rolls a shoulder back. He answers, “Snow’s definitely too thick for a car, but the town hasn’t been too badly affected. No one can get in or out but they’re all making do.”

“And you? Was it a difficult journey?”

There’s a pause as he swallows the spoonful he’s shovelled in his mouth and then he’s shrugging, remarking, “Ya think so little of me? Told you, I’m a wolf hybrid. Wasn’t easy but was hardly difficult, ma.”

Warmth pools in your stomach.

“Good.” You sip some water. “But you definitely need to get some rest. That’s a non-negotiable, I’m afraid. No manual labour of any kind tomorrow. I’ll handle everything. So, just let me know what I can do for you. It’s the least I can do, after all.”

He snorts. “Yeah? Y’r gonna take care of me?”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

His fork and spoon clatter on his frighteningly empty plate and when you meet his gaze once more, you’re knocked back by the sheer challenge in them. There’s a glint, like light off a knife’s edge, and it slices from your heart down your body, leaving you open and electrified.

“Careful, little girl,” he taunts, jaw snapping with a laugh, “when I take you up on that, y’r gonna be whining for days about how sore you are.”

There’s no way you’re going to argue with him, not when he sounds so certain, like you’re missing out on some inside joke. So you finish up dinner, with him having three servings, and after, with the dishes in need of cleaning up, you practically have to shove him in his room when he insisted he’s fine enough to stay up.

He rolls his eyes and lets you slam the door shut in his face.

As you tidy up in the kitchen, you’re pleased to find the fridge full. There’s a lot of fruit and vegetables and all the possibilities are getting you giddy. You suppose you were a little afraid Toji, being a man, would only buy junk and red meat, but he hadn’t. In fact, he had gotten things beyond food, he had bought toiletries and sanitary products for you. Sure it was a little presumptive, maybe you didn’t have periods, maybe you’re on birth control, maybe you’ve just had it and won’t have to worry until after the snow calms enough for you to deal with your personal bodily functions.

But, you find the act endearing, if the smile creeping on your face is anything to go by.

Eventually, you retire to bed, feeling much lighter. There’s lots of food and he came back. He hadn’t left. He had gone through so much trouble — life-risking trouble — that it must mean something, right?

You fall asleep very quickly.

Sometime around two in the morning, however, you’re awoken by some dull noise outside. Blinking through the sleep in your eyes, you pad out of your room and into the living room, where the fireplace is burning and casting dancing shadows over your roommate’s body.

“Didn’t mean to wake ya,” he grouses. “Go back to sleep.”

Finding the spark to laugh, you muse, “I think that’s my line, no?”

He looks wide awake sitting in his usual spot, on the floor with an arm on the sofa and a leg bent. Shirtless, the fire makes him look like he’s glowing, and you’re mesmerised. Clearing your throat, you retrieve two bottles of beer he had cheekily gotten, and sit criss-crossed by him. He takes the beer with a grunt of gratitude.

There’s something different in the air; silence isn’t enough tonight. All the things that have so far been left unspoken, locked away, are climbing over, ready to be shared — at least from your side. You may never know what he’s truly thinking.

Brows furrowed, you begin, “Did you ever wonder how I ended up here? Well, there’s not really a special or interesting story — I just got tired and bored of the same old thing. It felt like my life was missing substance, y’know?”

Grunt.

“I hated the city,” you confess. “It’s awful there. Everyone treats you like their enemy even as you’re just walking down the street. No one ever smiles or even looks at each other.”

Huff.

“It’s a good thing I was a workaholic and lived frugally; I can afford to camp out here until…well, till forever, I guess. It’s also great luck that you came by ‘cause I can’t fix a boiler or anything of the sort, so I would have likely died by now.”

For a second you think he’s dozed off, as he should have been doing after dinner considering the strenuous journey he underwent to get some food, but one glance to the side up has you gulping when you find his eyes on you once more, like they never left, like there’s nowhere else he’d rather look at. What a dangerous thought.

The eye contact has you, or him, or both of you, drawing closer, gazes flickering down and then up and back down again. With the warm glow of the fire blanketing you in the night, you feel so safe and secure; it’s you and him in this cabin and no one else matters. No one else has a say, can interrupt, can ruin this.

Whatever this is.

The arm he has behind you shifts and then you feel fingers skimming a lock of hair, following it down from the temple of your head, curving around the shell of your ear, and into the slope of your neck, brushing your hair back and exposing skin to the sizzling air.

You shiver.

“I’ve always been the kind of girl who stayed in one place. I like the security, the familiarity. But recently things have started feeling tough, like I’m stuck in quicksand, as dramatic as it is to say.”

Your voice is weak and low; you never knew you could sound like that.

When you were brushing the snow out of his beard, you weren’t surprised to find it rough, you often catch him scratching there so you know it’s uncomfortable for him too, and yet, you find a bubbling desire within you to feel it on your skin, the way you had briefly felt it on your neck and in your hands. How would it feel in other places?

“I just needed to get out, y’know?” You’re leaning impossibly close — close enough to see the question in his eyes. “Do something new, something exciting, something…”

“Wild?”

Toji’s eyes flashes and at your dazed nod, he dives forward, swallowing your gasp in his rough, unforgiving mouth. He shoves his tongue in, licking and tasting, and that arm that laid at the back of your head curls around it, pulling you close by your neck. You’re left with no choice but to cling to him and try to keep up with his merciless pace.

He tastes like alcohol with something deeper running, like an undercurrent, a ferocity only a beast could achieve. You feel intoxicated. Carrying you onto his lap, you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of something hard jutting up into your core. A growl pierces your ears when you don’t hesitate to grind down onto that hard length. He’s leaking heat hotter than the fireplace, he’s hard and firm everywhere your hands can reach, and his clutch is frightening, gripping you like you could never escape even if you fought against him.

You’ve never been wetter.

“I can smell ya,” he rasps. “Been smelling this sweetness every day. You taste as good as you look or what?”

Coarse and prickly, this beard is rubbing deliciously against your skin, reminding you from all angles that he’s kissing you, that he wants you just as bad as you want him, and he can’t get enough.

Burying your fingers in his thick hair, you moan when he licks a stripe up your neck, sniffing at your pulse point. “Find out for yourself.”

His laugh is sudden and gravelly and it’s the last thing you think about before you’re being thrown on your back, legs spreading to accommodate his girth as he kneels above you, shirt going up and over before he throws it somewhere. With the fireplace highlighting the sharp contours of his face and his rippled chest, his beastly grin spikes your pulse and then he’s pinning you down with his body.

“I don’t think you understand the position y’r in, little girl,” he taunts.

Using his claws, he rips up your top, exposing your tits to the air for just a second before he swallows one in his mouth, flicking a nipple with his tongue, all while he’s rolling his hips into yours creating a delicious friction that has your back arching and your jaw dropping.

“Been dreaming about these pretty tits.” He pinches the other, grinding his cock especially hard against your clit. The revelation falls on deaf ears when he smacks one. “Fuuuuck, look at the way they bounce.”

You pull at his hair and he lets you drag him back up to your lips, your nipples sore and tickled by the hairs on his chest whilst he rises up your body. “Kiss me.”

And he does, swallowing your moans he continues squeezing and groping your tits, but he leaves your lips swollen quickly after as he begins his descent, peppering a trail of kisses.

Pressing a nose right up at the apex of your thighs, he takes a looooong inhale, a satisfied growl echoing in the darkness. Your face heats up, legs threatening to close around his head but his big paws holds them open, nails digging with the promise of pain if you dare shut them away from him.

“You been flaunting a scent that’s got my mouth watering more than any of your baked goods,” he huffs, eyes narrowing at the wet spot leaking through. He thumbs at it, pressing down as if he could force everything you’ve got to give out. “’S not fair, ma. Waited so long for you to give in to me, heh, gonna make you regret that.”

“Toji!”

He rips up your pyjama bottoms too and hooks his fingers into the gusset of your panties before those are flying away, shredded beyond hope, and cool air grazes your sloppy slit.

Not a single second is wasted before he digs in, lapping up your pussy with a fearsome snarl. The tip of his long, slobbery tongue circles your pulsing clit, tweaking it when you whine. “Fuck, you taste this good and ya been holding out on me? Selfish little cunt, hmm?”

Hands flying up to grip his hair for purchase, you fall victim to his incessant licking and sucking and slurping as he flattens your thighs open, the scraggly hairs of his beard tickling your sensitive skin which grows clammier and clammier with the heat of his mouth, his body, and the fireplace.

When he curls two thick fingers in, stretching your walls further than you could with your own, your eyes fly open. “No! Ngh, too much.”

Still sucking at your clit, he shoves those fingers in and out, dragging them on his way to really take in the squishiness of your insides, forcing out those loud squelches. You tug at his scalp and he lifts up just a little to snap his maw, missing your clit by a hair’s breadth.

“Don’t get in the way of my meal, ‘cause this?” He slaps your pussy, juices splashing and he barks a mean laugh. “This is mine now.”

Your orgasm washes over you when his lips sucks your clit with a tongue flicking the little button at the exact same time those long digits curls up and lays successive presses against that smooth part inside of you.

Toji’s entire mouth engulfs your pussy, sharp teeth grazing your skin whilst he suckles on your sweet essence, drinking like a man lost in a desert, his personal oasis. “Ah, y’r no good for me, ma. Gonna get me addicted on this sloppy fucking cunt.”

Panting desperately, you writhe on the floor, feverish and crazed. He doesn’t give you a break, doesn’t let you catch your breath, before he shoves his pants down and lets his cock spring out.

Just the like rest of him, his cock is huge — long, thick, and throbbing with veins running up the length, carving a path up to his leaking cockhead which flushes a sinful dark red, promising a painful stretch. At the base, there’s coarse hair, wild and untamed like any other part of his body, and oh, God, those balls, they hang heavy, too heavy.

He snaps his fingers in front of your face and chuckles before he orders simply, “Suck.”

As if entranced, you scramble onto all fours, crawling forward so you can nudge his length with your cheek, his slit leaving a wet trail. He smells like a beast of the earth and it has your pussy drooling, a fat droplet sliding down your thigh and you shut your legs tight in a pathetic attempt to quell that ache. After all, you are much too preoccupied with this monstrous thing in front of you.

You peer up at him and stick your tongue out, licking from the very base, catching a little bit of his ball sac, and tilting back to reach his tip where you skim the underside. A large hand slides into your hair softly before it bundles up your hair in its angry grip pulling your head back into an uncomfortable angle so you can face his savage scowl.

“I know y’r not deaf. Fuck did I say? Huh?” He pushes your face into his balls, smothering you. “Be a good girl and suck, yeah?”

So you do.

Suckling on his balls, much like how he did with your tits, you try to take as much of him as you can before you can’t bear it any longer and you wrap your lips around his cock head, savouring the salty drops that coat your tongue. Everything about him is strong, from his grip to his scent and especially his taste. It’s as if he was built to dominate, to fill up every senses until you can think of and feel nothing but him.

You gag, overwhelmed by the intrusion.

He tuts, thoroughly scolding when he drawls, “If ya can’t take me properly with y’r mouth, then there’s no way you can take me with y’r pussy. Wanna prove me wrong, kid?”

You push past the painful stretch of your jaw, gliding as much as of his length into your throat as you can, thumb being pinched by your fist. Not even halfway down, you go back up again, not letting go of his tip before you slide back down, and you repeat that motion, taking more and more of him as you go.

When you hollow your cheeks to suck him in deeper, you see him throw his head back, his abs tensing and becoming prominent, you scrape your nails down that trail of hair before it finds his balls, massaging in the way you know not even he could resist.

“Fuck. Tryna -ha- make me cum so soon? Naughty,” he says.

In a flash, you’re being pulled off his cock and pushed back onto the rug once more. Your ankles are clasped in one of his hand, extending your legs high up in the air. “W-what are you doing?”

Cracking his neck slowly, the flames of the fireplace still as virile as ever, Toji looks downright sadistic with the way he grins at you.

“Just enjoying my meal to the fullest.” He pushes his cock through your thighs, right on top of your slit, lathering the underside with your overflowing juices. He groans, sharp teeth catching on his bottom lip. “We’re both gonna cum like this and then I’m putting you to bed.”

Slightly distracted by the way his cock is catching on your clit with every slide back and forth, you ask with a frown, “But why can’t you just fuck me now?”

He laughs. He fucking laughs. And then he’s bending your legs back towards your chest as he leans in close, placing your calves on his shoulders so you can see his face far too clearly. Rubbing the bristles on his jaw on your skin, he lays a soft kiss on your ankle before he scrapes the bone with a canine.

“Because I fuck rough, city girl. Y’r gonna be bruised, sore and all chewed up and you can’t complain if you hopped on my dick willingly, no?” You can’t answer. “Yeah, glad we agree. So don’t open that pretty mouth of y’rs unless it’s to moan my name, and keep y’r legs tight for me; no one wants to fuck something loose and limp.”

“Hurry up and get it over with!”

Doing just that, he thrusts like a madman, using you like a rag doll to chase his pleasure. You’re being jostled on the floor, the rug burning your skin and your hair so close to being singed by the embers of that fire he’s been tending to, setting alight and snuffing like clockwork every day.

His balls slap against your ass, as if pounding you too.

It’s all so dirty, so obscene, so wet any rational thought you should have been having about letting someone who’s practically a stranger fuck your thighs like you’re nothing but a slippery hole fly out the window.

The slight sheen of sweat on his chest is making you restless — you can’t focus on one thing, not the way he’s holding your legs tight, hugging them to his torso like you might run away, the way the friction of his cock rubbing against your clit is bringing you closer to orgasm, and not how your wetness is making embarrassing squelches that you know his hybrid ears can hear in even greater clarity than you can.

“Oh! T-toji! I think I’m -ngh- gonna -ha- cum.”

He bites down hard on your calf just as his hips stutter and his scalding spurts splash onto your chest, even reaching your chin and cheeks. A drop falls into your mouth which is stuck in an O-shape as you orgasm at the same time, digging your nails into the carpet and thrashing your head around as the euphoric feeling wash over you from inside and out.

Panting, you manage to breathe out, “Y-you made me all sticky.”

“Not fucking sorry.” Toji licks the red mark on your leg away and presses a kiss right in the centre of the two half moon crescents made by his teeth marks. Your heart beats faster. When his green eyes rove over your body, you both see and feel the deep rumble of satisfaction bubbling from his chest. He runs two fingers down your chest and your stomach, collecting his cum before he smears it on your lips. “Not fucking sorry at all.”

Your eyes threaten to shut and he grunts, realising he must have exhausted you despite the fact that it was he who pushed themselves through the elements for hours and not you.

“Alright, up and at ‘em. Let’s get ya cleaned up, kid.”

Hauling you onto your feet, the rest of the night goes by in a blur — you’re taken to the bathroom and wiped down by a wet cloth, redressed in new pyjamas, and tucked in all nice and warm in your own bed. He leaves. Even half-asleep, you find that act ever so slightly disheartening.

It feels like you’ve been used, like the act wasn’t as intimate as you might have thought. It leaves you biting your nail and groaning inwardly. Of course he didn’t think much about it. The man looks older than you, he’s probably fucked the thighs of many girls and you’re no one special, right?

Maybe the best thing to do is to take a page out of his book and just be casual, so at least you won’t humiliate yourself by asking something absolutely ridiculous like ‘what are we?’

God, the thought makes you grimace.

You make a promise to yourself to swear off Toji until the snow thaws enough to get down and up this cursed mountain. The mental fortitude you’ve erected seems so solid, so reliable and firm, you actually believe you’ll have a more than easy time keeping your hands, and your heart, to yourself.

That is until he returns smelling of soap and he slides right in behind you, tucking an arm under your back and pulling you into place with your head resting on his hairy chest.

“Had to cut my shower short ‘cause you’re gnawing y’r fucking fingernail off. Cut it out, will ya?”

Your bedmate swats at your hand, pulling it away from your anxious mouth and playfully bites your wrist. That hand stays in his grip. Heart ceasing its painful clenching, you make yourself comfortable in his embrace, enjoying the heat enveloping you, hotter than any fire.

Clearing your throat, you mutter, “Thanks for today, Toji. Really. I couldn’t have ever done that without you.”

He huffs a laugh, thoroughly amused.

“Wouldn’t hafta if I wasn’t eating up all y’r food.” His voice booms under your cheek, the vibrations lulling you to sleep. You’ve only just noticed how nice he sounds, it’s a captivating timbre, rough and scratchy like bark but comforting and unyielding in a way you’ve never known anyone to sound. “Ya would’ve been fine without me, anyways. Don’t sell y’rself short.”

“I think it’s you who’s selling yourself short.”

Those are the last words exchanged between you before you two fall asleep.

—————————

“Fuck you up to?” Toji grouses.

His voice is laced with sleep and he’s rubbing his eyes, all bleary and confused. He has every right to be considering you’re under the covers, mouthing at his dick and stroking the morning wood that woke up before him. The duvet gets pulled up, revealing your less than innocent smile.

Kissing his slit, which prompts a heavy hand to lay on your head, you ask, “Waking you up?”

An arm folds under his head, getting him into a great angle to see you much more clearly. His brow rises up, challenging, and he teases, “Yeah? Well, I’m up, ma, so what now?”

The radiators have yet to be turned on this morning so the air is chilly in your room, but still you push those covers back, showing him how you’re completely bare in the bottom, wearing only your shirt to bed. His spare hand falls on your plump thigh, squeezing and kneading.

“Last night,” you begin, raising your hip so you can seat yourself down on his hard length, “you told me you’d only fuck me if I hopped on your dick willingly. So here I am.”

You’re rubbing your already soaked pussy up and down on his cock, coating him with your wetness just as he did last night. You feel every delectable ridge catching your clit and you grind down on him with shameless abandon. How could you ever possibly feel shame when it feels so good and he’s not even inside you yet? When he’s looking at you like that? Like you’re the tastiest prey who’s ever walked into his trap?

He pushes a thumb into your mouth, watching your lips wrap around it like you did the night before and this morning, before he drops his hand to the apex of your thighs, massaging tight circles into that bundle of nerves, forcing breathless moans out of you. “Ya gonna ride me, doll? Gonna show me just how willing you are?”

“Uhuh.” Grinning, you let him pull the shirt up and over your head, nipples pebbling immediately. He flicks one, palming the fatty globe to soothe the dull pain.

Steadying yourself with your hands on his abs, you lean forward and steal a kiss. It’s supposed to be a peck, just a polite, cursory smooch but then he stops groping your tit to use that hand to keep your faced pressed to his. Toji deepens the kiss, shoving his tongue inside and exploring your mouth. He’s stealing air from you and the longer he keeps you submerged, the more you moan.

In the haze of the heat he’s growling into you, you fail to realise he’s let go of your head and is now slotting his cock into your pussy.

“W-wait, Toji!”

The stretch is overwhelming; you hadn’t prepped yourself enough but neither of you seem to care. It’s hard to when his cock head is already pushing through that tight ring of muscle and is worming its way deeper inside you.

He hisses. “So fucking tight! Fuck, gotta relax, ma.”

“I’m -ngh- trying!”

Down and down, your cunt swallows as much of him as it can. You’ve pushed yourself upright, using gravity to aid the descent. Nothing else in the room has his attention. Nothing could ever take his attention. “Oh fuck, would you look at that? Greedy pussy can’t get enough, can she? Dirty girl heh.”

You bottom out, lips tickled by the hairs at his base.

“You’re so big, Toji.”

Both of his arms reach for you, gripping your ass and lifting you up just a little only to let go and let you drop down. You screech. He’s reaching every part of you inside, and when you look down, you’re so certain you can see the outline of him pushing through your stomach. You clench.

“Ah, fuck! Don’t do that,” he scolds you. “Start moving before I get bored.”

The threat makes you frown but you do as he says anyways. Mustering all the strength you have, you start riding him, rising higher and higher each time until you get comfortable with his size. You can’t imagine any amount of prep would ever get you to take him with ease, but the overflowing juices coming from you is certainly helping; it leaves his hairs dewy.

Years past, or so it feels, as you grind and slide down on his length, and he doesn’t seem the least bit affected. That only fuels you harder. With a vendetta, you get up on your knees, keeping just his tip in, before you slam down.

You both moan.

“Fuck!”

His hands dig into your slippery flesh, careful of his sharp claws, but threatening to leave bruises just as he promised. The way he’s poking that sensitive spot inside you has you whimpering with every grind at just the right angle. You can’t imagine ever wanting to stop. Squelches after squelches echo in the room but there’s no shame you can muster, not when he feels so incredible.

The pain is quickly spiralling into pleasure and every part of him is pushing you to the edge— his strength, his length and girth, his low groans and hisses, the hairs that tickle your skin, and those eyes, scouring your features and not missing a single thing.

Embarrassing sloshes and splats! are reverberating against the walls, just as the creaking of the bed frame, and the slapping of skin reach your ears. You’ve never heard yourself sound so dirty, so reckless, so downright pornographic. All of it is pulling you under even as the ache in your thighs from the overuse of them is making your rhythm irregular and jerky.

“Gorgeous -ha- gorgeous girl,” he says through gritted teeth.

His point is emphasised by a slap against your ass cheek, the sting makes you fall over, back onto his chest which is sticky with both of your sweat mixing and mingling. The hairs on his chest brush against your nipples, still sensitive from his rough sucking and biting last night, and you whimper.

Growling in your ear, he plants his feet onto the bed, and oh god, he’s grabbing your ass in both hands and you know without even having to look at him that he’s grown tired of your amateurish performance; Toji is taking matters into his own hand.

“Guess I still gotta do the -hah fuck- work ‘round here. Always such a —ngh— princess. Hold on tight, ma, ’s gonna be a bumpy ride.” His laugh rumbles under your body and an eye roll is all you can manage before you’re being pummelled into from underneath, jostling you in all sorts of directions.

Plunging his cock at an incredible speed, you feel him in your stomach, in your lungs, God it’s like he’s in your head, filling every fold and crevice with his beastly intensity. “Toji! No! Ngh, s-stop! I can’t, fuck it’s so good! Yes! Oh! Oh! Nooooooooo.”

“No, yes, no? Make up your mind, ma. Use that city girl head for me,” he growls out, punctuating his mean question with a cruel laugh.

Bundling your hair into a careless fist, he yanks you back from his chest, forcing you to confront him. He’s not flushed, his face isn’t crumpled in desperation, he isn’t even out of breath. In fact, there would be no sign he’s enjoying this —you, being inside you, holding you — except for the bead of sweat trailing down his temple, drawing your attention to the way those jade beads are flickering between your eyes and your swollen lips.

“Kiss?” You ask, breathlessly.

Toji furrows his brows, something flashing in his gaze, something that resembles confusion, conflict, or hesitation. It’s so quick you wonder if you imagined it but there’s no time to ponder longer because he continues his incessant assault on your poor pussy, kissing your cervix with every thrust, practically rummaging your insides with the way he’s using you like a toy once again.

It’s filthy, it’s carnal, animalistic and oh so good.

“Yeah.” He licks his lips, pearly white row of knives for teeth on perfect display. “Give me a big wet kiss, baby. Make it worth my -hngh fuck!- t-time.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to stretch forward, he slams his face to yours, smacking his plump lips, gobbling you up despite your moans of surprise. He shoves his tongue in with as much ferocity as he’s thrusting his cock inside your poor battered pussy. That tongue licks and explores like he can’t get enough, like he wants to memorise every curve and edge.

SMACK! SMACK! SMACK!

A huge hand lays consecutive slaps against your ass again, the flesh rippling and burning. He times it with every thrust, heavy balls smacking your skin too. It’s all too much too soon and you feel an orgasm bubbling from your throat and your cunt.

“W-what is that? Oh my god!” Something thick is attempting to enter your sloppy pussy, round and threatening. You squeal when it pushes in after a particularly merciless thrust and grind from Toji. The extra stretch brings about a sharp pain. You tear up.

A hand that’s clutching an ass cheek ventures deeper, trailing a finger to a hole you’ve never touched. Smothered in his chest, the onslaught of stimulation from all angles is killing you. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to breathe, no one to turn to for help from the man making good on his promise to leave you bruised, sore, and all chewed up.

“’s my knot, babygirl. Fuck, you really don’t know shit about hybrids, huh? Well, y’r gonna be educated soon.”

The dark, sadistic tone of his is making you dizzy. In a panic, you hastily say, “N-no! I can’t. Really, Toji! I r-really can’t. Pleaseeee.”

With your hair still in his grasp, your head’s tilted back once again, but this time to bare your slender neck. In one fell swoop, that bulge gets shoved inside your cunt, plugging you up, and his maw clamps down on your neck, so close to puncturing you with his savage teeth.

“Oh! I’m gonna cuummmm! Toji! T-Toji! Stop!” Your jaw drops, eyes rolling back, and your nails dig into his meaty pecs for purchase. It’s like electricity is wracking your body, sizzling every hair strand, tickling your nipples from inside. Grinding against his pelvis, your oversensitive clit is caught in his hairs, creating a remarkable friction you can’t escape. “Oh, fuuuuuuuuuck!”

Broken chuckles emerge from his sinful mouth, “Go on, ma. Cum on my cock, milk me, just like that, oh shit, such a good girl, fuck!”

His brutal pace splutters as he follows suit, balls clenching whilst your walls attempt to push out the invasion of his cock and his knot. A crazed laugh echoes right by your ear, you don’t know what’s so funny but stuttered moans are the only sounds you can make as you chase your high.

“Ah, fuck, y’r so fucking tight. Practically -ha- choking me heh.”

You feel hot cum paint your insides, drizzling down your walls with nowhere to go. He’s thoroughly filled you and when you attempt to lift your hips to get up, you realise, he’s not letting you go any time soon.

“Nice try, ma. Unfortunately for you, y’r stuck with me for about twenty minutes or so till it goes down. Probably should’ve bought condoms heh.”

“You should have given me a warning, Toji,” you mumble, pouting.

Goosebumps litter your arms; the chill of the morning air is settling reminding you just how bare you really are. Thankfully you don’t have to suffer for too long because he’s shuffling so he can throw the covers over the both of you. With his natural body heat, you’re more than warm and cozy, especially as his burning cock is still inside you.

He licks a dried trail of tears on your cheek. “Sorry. Thought you knew.”

“Well, I didn’t. This is my first time with a hybrid.”

Grunt.

A beat or two passes, a comfortable silence humming between you. He’s so big and meaty it feels like you’re going to melt into him. Now that you’re not so distracted by cock and cum, and the morning light is shining through the curtains, you can see his scars much more clearly. He’s littered in them, some like slashes and others just scarred-over holes.

You have so many questions, none of them leave the tip of your tongue.

“Ask.”

You pause. “Can I?”

Huff.

“Okay,” you trail off. “Why do you have so many scars?”

Tickling your spine with his callouses fingers, he skims your back absentmindedly. You lay your chin on his chest, watching him look at somewhere in the corner of the room, clearly falling fast in an endless hole of memories. This is a rare opportunity to more about the enigmatic wolf-man who showed up at your doorstep in the middle of a snow-storm, claiming to have known your late grandmother.

More silence fills the air. His fingers have stopped.

You nuzzle his jaw with your nose, burying it in his beard. It seems to snap him out of his daze. He grunts once more, licking your cheek, not to taste the salt on your skin, but as if to say ‘thanks’.

“Been on my own for a while. For as long as I can remember, actually. It’s…tough out there. Not everyone is as nice as you and your gran.”

Carefully, you hazard a guess. “Were these from people? Hybrids or normies?”

He gropes your ass like a stress ball.

“Both.”

“I mean, I’ve heard stories of the kind of abuse and discrimination hybrids face from normies, it’s quite prevalent in the city despite recent equality laws but why would your own kid hurt you? Aren’t you all in the same boat? Isn’t there some kind of…camaraderie? Sorry, is that insulting to assume?”

Spanking your ass, he huffs a laugh. “You’re adorable. No, don’t look at me like that, kid. It’s cute of you to think that’s how it works.”

“It isn’t?”

You don’t take offence to his patronising tone; you had expected to be wrong about aspects of hybrid life. Normal, average humans outnumber hybrids at a ratio of four to one. Some hybrids are lucky enough to be passing, kinda like Toji, but others carry visible signs of their anthropomorphic genes. The latter are rarely treated well despite the fact that they’ve existed just as long as normies have. They used to live in their own continents, building large civilisations far more expansive than humans have achieved at that time.

But war is a cruel mistress.

For many reasons, humans and hybrids stayed away from each other. It was only relatively recently they’ve begin co-existing, even inter-mixing. The change has been hard for many people. Perhaps not most of society, but enough to make the idea of living as a hybrid make you grimace.

“Nah,” he says, almost finishing his reply there until he sees your inquisitive eyes and he continues, “there’s lots of different kinds of hybrids. We don’t all like each other. And not all of us running the same race. There’s a lot of competition, suspicion and hatred. ’s always been the case.”

Nodding, you prod further. “And your scars? Did they come from bar brawls or something?”

“Some, yeah. Others from professional fights.”

You perk up.

“Professional fights?”

In a flash, the cover is falling onto the floor and you’re upright once more. Toji’s pushed the both of you up and off the bed, holding you in his arms with his softening cock slipping out of your pussy. You scramble to gain better grip of him.

“Oh my god! Give a girl a little warning. God, Toji! It’s cold.”

He licks your ear.

“Sorry.” He doesn’t sound sorry at all. With ease, he carries you out of your room and into the bathroom. “Let’s wash up and start the day. ‘m starved.”

Rolling your eyes, you let him have this one chance at evading your question; you’re just pleased to have learnt a little more about him. It feels like he’s letting you in, presenting himself openly just for you. For a wild man like him, whose solitary despite his nature, this is the greatest gift he could give you.

Toji’s a thorough washer — he shampoos your hair better than you ever have and not a single crook or cranny gets overlooked. But as soon as you get clean, the so-called day doesn’t get started anytime soon when he falls to his knees and shoves his face into the apex of your thighs, making a loud sniifffff before he growls and laps up the mixed juices of his and your cum.

In next three days that pass, you notice the dynamic between you shifts.

For one, he no longer sleeps in his own room but rather in yours. He follows suit after dinner and removes his shirt, freshly showered and completely bare, and hands it to you wordlessly. You wear his shirt, and only his shirt, to bed.

Lunch is no longer eaten separately. He joins you wherever you are, whether that’s in your room, all warm and cozy under a mountain of blankets, or on the sofa, also all warm and cozy under a mountain of blankets. You watch movies on your laptop and he never argues with your choices. Sometimes he just eats in silence, right beside you, as you read a book or stare out the window.

Toji’s much more touchy now. Before, he was sneaking in grazes and quick gropes, now he’s lost all reservation and politeness. When you’re cooking, stirring something as you hum to music, he creeps up behind you, pinning your body to the counter with his hips and he wraps an arm around your torso to weigh a breast in his palm, squeezing and massaging for his own pleasure.

He’ll tweak a nipple, pushing your hair back to skim his nose against the length of your neck, inhaling deeply and stopping to mouth wet kisses on that bruising around the teeth marks he’s left there. Most times he’ll let you be after he’s had a fill of your softness, but sometimes he kneels behind you and tears apart your pants with a resounding SSSSSNAP! Before he laps up your pussy from behind, food coming out just a little more cooked than you’d like, though he never seems to mind.

And it must be worth mentioning that the sex is constant.

Every night and every morning. It isn’t a stretch to say that you eat, sleep and breathe sex with Toji. Which you honestly can’t complain about. It’s always so rough and so good every time.

However, his insatiable appetite is making it ever so slightly hard for you after — there’s a perpetual soreness in your joints and in your pussy, you find yourself looking behind you to make sure that when you bend down to pick up whatever it is you’ve dropped he won’t be there playing with your cunt with his fingers and/or mouth.

His hearing is incredible.

Sometimes you hide just to time how long it takes for him to find your hiding spot. Longest time was three minutes. The cabin isn’t the biggest in the world but there are plenty of places to hide, like closets, under the bed, behind sofas and doors.

Still hard at work fixing bits and pieces around the cabin, Toji somehow always knows when you’re up to some mischief. Maybe it’s because your heart starts beating faster or because you let out some giggles, envisioning that glint in his eyes and in his teeth when he grins at your pathetic attempts to escape him.

Or maybe, just maybe, it’s because your panties get soaked with anticipation for his rough, calloused hands throwing you over his shoulder and onto a bed, his or yours he doesn’t care, and fucking you into a drooling mess. Sometimes he even gets so impatient, so riled up, he just takes you wherever you are, your face smothered in a pile of folded clothes or against the wall with your panties dangling from an ankle.

Everything has been great. So great in a way you’ve never known greatness to manifest. It’s somewhat akin to, what you can only imagine to be, the completely liberating sensation of flapping your wings and cruising high up in the sky or running through a stream, chasing a fish with no end in sight. It’s the kind of greatness men strive for all their lives but never reach because it’s a greatness they were already born into and never realise.

The routine, the mundane, the ordinariness.

It’s all so great.

At night, you trace nonsensical words and shapes into his skin, smiling at the soft snores that vibrate under your head. You’ve always thought living every day the same as the day before and the day before that as a labyrinth you’ve been sentenced to die in, a cage or a prison of your own making. But now, you can’t imagine ever wanting more.

Of course, it hasn’t been perfect.

You still find some moments a little too boring but those are usually when he’s busy fixing a wobbly chair or grouting the tiles in the bathroom. And you do crave the feeling of driving through a long, empty road, or eating fast food. Those moments, thankfully, are hastily washed away once you feel his calloused hands tethering you back to him.

One other problem you’re having is his beard. As attractive as it is, it’s scratching up your thighs a little too much. You’ve noticed the rash forming between your legs; he has a penchant for eating you out at the drop of a hat and he’s not gentlemanly about it. At. All. You don’t ever want him to stop and the threatening snarl he makes every time you attempt to push him away from your swollen and overstimulated pussy never fails to halt your movements.

So there’s only one solution.

“Toji?” He lazily drags his gaze up your bare legs, stopping by the hard nipples poking through shirt, and then he meets your gaze with a brow raised. “Would you ever consider shaving your beard?”

The growl of ‘no’ comes before you could even finish the word ‘shaving’. His jaw clenches and a muscle ticks.

“But I can shave it for you. Being a woman, it’s kinda part of my existence. I’ll do you up real nice.”

“Hell will sooner freeze over before I let anyone put something sharp against my neck again. Even if they’re you.”

You drop it for now.

At night, after hours of mind-blowing sex, you lay all sweaty and sleepy on his chest once more with a heavy arm slung over your waist. You twist the hairs on his face, rolling a couple strands between your fingers. They’re quite long and thick. You wonder when the last time he had shaved was.

“Please?”

“No.”

You sigh.

The next morning, you’re in the bathroom, sitting on the bathtub and attempting to rub some soothing ointment meant for your face onto the irritated skin of your inner thighs. It’s getting worse and you’re at a loss. Making it hard to walk, you’re cursing every god out there for doing this to you.

Is his aversion to sharp objects near his head because of some trauma or an animalistic instinct? It’s hard to tell with hybrids, as the internet forums you’ve explored lecture — hybrids are both governed by human complexity and base biological instincts. Studies that have been done on them over the year have put forth some credible results but people are quick to put a disclaimer that animals in captivity rarely behave the way they would in the wild.

You sigh again.

Maybe you’ll have to tell him to stop eating you out. You cringe. That won’t go down well, pun intended, and you don’t want him to. Frowning, you carefully massage in the ointment, hissing at particularly sensitive spots.

“Fine. You can shave it off,” he grumbles.

You hadn’t even realised he was standing in the doorway, watching, and scratching his beard like he’s noticing, really noticing, the hairs on his face. One glance at the mirror across the room and he’s furrowing his brows, perhaps baffled at the man staring back at him.

His tone is hostile, but his acquiescence makes you smile.

About ten minutes later, you’ve sat him down on the edge of the bathtub, right where you were before, and you’ve assembled everything you need: razors, scissors, a comb, shaving cream, towels, and a tub of aloe vera to soothe any razor burns. Everything but the aloe vera is pretty pink, and you can’t help but giggle a little as you take a step back to admire this big, burly man surrounded by utterly feminine products.

“Alright, I’ll start by trimming it, okay? I don’t want to come at it straight away and spook you, so let’s take it nice and slow.”

He huffs. “Don’t gotta talk to me like I’m a kid. Do what you gotta do.”

With the scissors and the comb, you cut away at his beard, snipping here and there and trying to get it all even. It’s not an easy job — he growls when you venture too low, past his jawline and closer to his Adam’s apple and when he makes that throaty sound, you’re met with images of him biting into your throat, the way a dog does when you step on its tail.

Terrible as it is to compare a biological human male like Toji to an animal, it’s a fair comparison considering his reliance on his animal instincts. It’s been abundantly clear in the way he uses his senses to gain his bearings, how he never expresses a desire beyond eating, sleeping and fucking. There’s no vanity coursing through his blood, he doesn’t stare at himself in reflections, doesn’t fix up his hair or put on clothes that fit or match, and even how he doesn’t ever say pretty words, only what he means, no more and no less.

It’s nice.

So used to the way people sugarcoated their complaints or hid ulterior motives in every sickly sweet words, adjusting to Toji’s matter-of-fact way of speaking had been somewhat difficult.

But change is necessary. Just as the seasons change, so do animals, even humans. With how they adapt to the change in the wind, the drop in the temperature, the quake in the earth, you know without needing to ask questions or to have more time with him, the hybrid in front of you, part wolf and part man, has never had the luxury of being stagnant.

It was clear when he showed up at your door with no bag, just the clothes on his back and the muddy, worn down boots on his feet. Even fully fed, lounging on the sofa by the fire with his feet and torso bare, you sense the tension freezing his body; he’s always ready to run.

He snarls and flinches when he feels the cold blade of your scissors touch his skin. And then his hand grips your thigh, both in warning and to tether himself, perhaps to remind him you’re not a monster thirsting for blood, his blood, but rather just a woman. A woman he’s seen completely bare, a woman who’s crawled on all fours and nuzzled her face against the seam of his jeans when he returns from fixing a tile on the roof, and a woman who’s laid it all out for him, starting from what led you here and ending to where you want to be.

Uncomfortable and on edge, you already know you’re not going to get very far with the way he’s being. He needs a distraction.

You kiss him. He growls for a different reason this time. Fingers threading in your hair, he holds you down to him, tasting the sweetness you’re offering. He laps it up. “Toji, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Face burying into your neck, he takes a long inhale there. “I know.”

“I’m gonna get started on the shaving cream, okay?”

His grip on you tightens and you know he’s aware that razors are sharper than scissors, much like how his teeth are sharper than yours. You don’t want to know what events he’s lived through to be so hostile against the act of shaving but he isn’t an animal, not fully, anyways.

He’s also a man.

And men conquer.

Even when they shouldn’t.

You slide your panties down, dangling it in the air for a second, hesitating but you see the appraisal in his eyes, always so suspicious like he’s thinking of all the ways one could be killed with a scrap of lace. Dropping it on his face, you tell him, “I don’t see why only one of should be vulnerable here.”

Rumbling a pure sense of bliss, his eyes flutter shut and he sniffs at your panties. His hand flies up to your slit just as you’re smearing shaving cream all over his jaw, pulling the panties away from him for a second.

“Seeing me all tense is getting you soaked?” His lip twitches.

“Hey, now, let’s not even get started on that seeing as you’re pretty hard for someone suffering some internal battle.”

He gives you a rare grin.

The rest of the torture goes on in relative peace — you shave him bit by bit, going slowly and keeping your touch gentle especially as you near the softness of his neck and when you go over it with the razor, he takes a deep inhale of your panties, trying to shake off that unnatural acceptance of something so dangerous, so compromising, so utterly unlike him. After every slither of skin you’ve rid of hair, you give him a kiss which he insists on deepening, shoving fingers into your cunt just to feel you clench down on him.

Soon, he’s completely smooth and it’s only when you step back that you take it all in. He was handsome with the beard and he’s just as handsome now. He also looks more youthful, more boyish, and free.

Toji comes to a stand, staring at himself in the mirror. He doesn’t say a word, neither do you. A barrage of thoughts pass through his mind, flashing and flickering. His fingers feel his skin, jerking at the complete bareness of it all. You can’t tell if he likes it, if he regrets his choice, and if he even recognises the man under all that wild and untamed hair. He had been running so long as a wolf, perhaps he’s forgotten how to walk as a man.

That’s what you think, until he makes some gesture with his hand and he says, “Got no reason to push me away now, so spread those legs, ma. Let’s go for a test drive.”

You don’t leave that bathroom until hours later, sore, wet, sticky and thoroughly blissed out.

The next day, just before lunchtime, Toji goes to chop up some more wood for the fireplace whilst the snow has stopped falling just for today. You’re watching him through a window, bundled up in a blanket holding a steaming cup of hot chocolate, and not at all envious of him, what with the chilling weather and his lack of a coat.

You really have to buy him one. He doesn’t look the least bit cold, which you don’t really understand, but still, something about the picture looks off. It’s not fair you get to be all comfortable, lazing around, and he’s hard at work.

The phone rings.

Your head snaps to the coffee table which your phone lies on, vibrating against the wood. A new number. When you answer, you’re surprised to recognise the voice immediately.

“Hi. Yes, I’m managing quite fine.”

The old man sighs. “How glad am I to hear that. The storm has made it rather hard to get a hold of you and I certainly couldn’t make the journey up.”

“That’s quite alright. I really appreciate the thought, it’s very sweet of you.”

Exchanging pleasantries and talks about the various favours he owed your grandmother, over five minutes pass, and you’re itching to urge Toji back inside, fearing that he could drop dead at any second from the chill.

Eventually, and thankfully, the conversation nears an end with him insisting that as soon as the snow thaws enough you come on down for dinner at his home. He says his sons and their wives all love a good, hearty meal as a family. There are even grandchildren for you to play with should adults not be your speed. “Yes, yes, of course. That sounds great, thank you.”

“Alright, bye, dear. I’ll call back again to check up on you and please remember you can always call on me and my kids for help.”

Humming, you’re about to end the call when his tone changes.

“Speaking of help,” he begins, clearing his throat. “How have you been managing to get on so well?”

Toji’s still chopping wood, swinging that heavy axe back behind his head and down in one smooth strike, cutting the log in a perfect half. You press your legs together, unable to take your eyes off his bulging biceps. You love when he shows off his strength, it comes so effortlessly to him, unlike the men where you’re from whose muscles are all for show, satisfying their own vanity and quelling their insecurities momentarily before they’re inhaling steroids like air.

“Oh, you know, this man my grandmother befriended over the years came by and has been helping me out since. He’s quite familiar with the ins and outs of the cabin so I really couldn’t have done any of this without him. I’d like to bring him along to dinn—“

“A man?”

You frown. “Yeah, Toji. Surely you must have met him at some point since he and my grandmother were quite close.”

“I knew it! I knew I saw him here days ago. Oh, goodness. I’m so sorry you ran into him, but please don’t stay away.”

“N-no, it’s Toji, he helped my granny during the winter months. He fixed things up for her and helped her get around. He was like a friend to her in ways me and my siblings should have been. He’s really nice, you’ll like him.”

The man in question is scratching his jaw, still getting used to being so bare, and he’s rolling his head around as if bothered by some crick in his neck. He’s got an impressive pile of logs waiting to be fed to the fireplace and you know he’s going to head back in any second now. For some reason, you feel guilty, like you’re doing something you shouldn’t be, talking to someone you shouldn’t talk to.

“Y/n, listen to me. Please!” The urgency, the insistence, and desperation in the old man’s voice is palpable, a hand reaching through the screen and choking air right out from your lungs. Your heart begins galloping. “That man is a criminal. He’s wanted, a fugitive! H-he’s a killer.”

Confused and somewhat exasperated, you argue, “No, you’ve got the wrong man. I’m telling you, we’re talking about different people here.”

You can’t shake off the abrupt shift in his voice. From caring old man with a shaky baritone to a firm, military like precision. It’s as if you were talking to a completely different man.

A beat passes and you think he’s hung up, that this odd conversation is over and done with but one glance at the screen tells you differently. He doesn’t say a thing, and all you can hear is the rushing of the wind and grunts and thuds outside.

Irritated by this entire farce, your thumb moves to press the end-call button but then you hear him on the other line.

“Does he have a scar on the corner of his mouth?”

The blood drains from your face.

“H-how did you know that?”

A noise of death and despair reaches your ears. He’s shouting something to someone else, you can hear their alarm, can feel the anxiety, the dread and terror in their voices, muffled as they are. “Get away from him. Get away from him now! Do whatever you can. You mustn’t let him get his hands on you. H-he’s one of them. One of those abominations. A hybrid, a dangerous kind.”

“What are you talking about? Just tell me what’s happening, please, you’re not making sense right now.”

“He killed your grandmother!”

You drop your mug. It shatters by your feet. The creamy chocolate milk pools into a puddle, soaking your socks. There’s ceramic chipping littering the floor and you can’t move, can’t go anywhere without taking a big leap.

Slowly, you look up from your phone screen, hearing subdued questions of fear and panic on the other end. Through the window, you meet Toji’s eyes.

You hang up.

It takes three seconds for him to get to the door, pushing it open. He shakes off the snow off his boots, banging them against the doorframe, and the axe he had been holding is set down by the shoe rack, the metal clinking, as he enters. Light from the ceiling bulb reflects directly off the sharpest point, shining in your eyes.

“Ya alright?”

Plastering a cheerful smile, you nod.

He doesn’t look convinced.

In a blink, he’s in front of you, cradling your face in one cold hand. He tilts your chin back and searches your eyes. He doesn’t seem to find what he’s looking for so he sniffs the air and his eyes darken. Slowly, like you’re a deer, he asks, “What are you so afraid of?”

“Oh, nothing. Really. I was just reading the news online and stumbled across articles about the war in that country in the East, y’know, the one with the hospital bombing. It’s terrible, isn’t it?”

“I didn’t read it,” he says. “Show me.”

Your heart beats impossibly faster. You know he can hear it. There’s no way he can’t with his wolfish hearing and with a finger on your pulse. Maybe that’s why his other hand, just as cold, wraps around your wrist and he tugs it towards him. His nails scrape against your skin and his hand eats up your wrist entirely, middle finger folding over his thumb. At any given second, he can snap the bone there and not bat an eye.

Laughing nervously, you tug your hand back, to no avail. With a forced nonchalant tone, you inform him, “I wanna get all cleaned up. I feel a little icky, and all sweaty and sticky from this morning so I’m just gonna take a nice long bath.”

He lets you shake him off but only after he’s taken the phone out of your death grip. He can’t unlock it, he doesn’t the password. But that was never his intention. He doesn’t even look down on the screen. As fast as you can without looking panicked, you stumble away from his reach and towards the door.

“Y/n.”

Your smile shakes.

“What did they tell you?”

Your smile falls off altogether.

“Toji,” you begin, “p-please, let’s not do this.”

His scar twitches and when he makes a step towards you, you step back. There. You almost missed it, almost blinked and lost your footing. But his eyes unmistakably flicker from you and to the side, by the door, at the shoe rack. You don’t need to turn back to know what exactly he’s eyeing. Calmly, he asserts, “You won’t last an hour outside. You won’t even reach the forest’s edge before I get to you. You don’t know your way down. And if it ain’t me, it’ll be the elements that’ll kill ya. Be wise, kid.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

With the scarlet blanket still hanging off you, you dash towards the door, pulling the shoe rack behind you and the sound of clattering and a thud forces your legs pumping.

You run.

You run and you don’t look back, you don’t stop, not even for a second, not even when your socks are soaked with snow and not melted chocolate. The trees welcome you as you dash in between trunks, lunging over thick roots and dodging low hanging branches. You don’t know where you’re going, where you can go.

A sob rises from your throat, clawing its way out.

He was right. You don’t know your way down and the freeze is creeping in, frosting over your veins and seeping into your bones. The movies show the power of adrenaline all the time, how it’ll wash away any and all feelings that aren’t helpful for survival, but it’s not enough.

Your muscles are aching, your cheeks are burning and your fingers are beginning to itch and tingle. You weren’t meant for survival. You weren’t meant to put up a fight.

When he gets to you, he’ll snuff the light right out of your eyes with one swipe of his arm. You’ve seen what he can do with those hands, you’ve felt the way they wrangled you into position, hell you’ve drooled over the bruises he’s left on you. And you never once thought you’d be running from the hands that dragged you over a cliff of pleasure, that carried you around, and touched you so soothingly.

Without needing to hear heavy footfall, you know he’s after you. You have animalistic instincts too.

A dead woman running is what you are. You were dead as soon as you picked up that phone call.

No.

You were dead the moment you opened the door.

“Fuck!” You scream. Ignoring the ache in your legs and the pain in your ankles, you sprint as fast as you can. Your body’s being pushed to its limits; you’ve never ran like this before. Granted, you’ve never been chased by a murderer either.

The absurd turn of event make you laugh, deranged and broken, and it echoes around the forest. As far as you can see, there’s only trees and snow, perfectly white, pristine snow. There are no roads, no houses, no people. No one to help. No one that can hear you scream.

You should have stayed in the city, should have never left, should have never gotten bored. Spontaneity isn’t your thing and you’re learning it the hard way. There’ll never be an opportunity to put into practice the moral of the story that’s being engraved into your DNA right now. No one will even notice you’re gone — you aren’t close with your family, and you don’t have friends, not really anyways.

There will be no mourning, no grieving, there won’t even be a goddamn funeral.

Heart threatening to tear through your body, you collapse against a tree. You’re panting, chest heaving as you gulp down as much air as possible. The bark scratches your forehead but you can’t muster a shred of care, not when every limb is shaking both from the cold and the effort.

There are an array of shallow cuts all over your arms and face from where low hanging branches have whipped against your skin, attempting to get you in their clutches, to slow you down. The forest isn’t your friend. This isn’t your domain, It’s his.

“Y/n!”

You smother the startled cry with the palm of your hand.

He’s near.

Tears stream down your face, falling onto the snow beneath you. Numb, you briefly worry you’ve lost your feet altogether. One glance down disproves that but you’re still not convinced. You hug the blanket closer around you; it does absolutely nothing to keep the warmth in and the cold out. And yet, you can’t bear to let it go.

“I can hear you.”

Lips quivering, you bite down hard. Iron lays on your tongue. There’s nowhere to go. He had found you so quickly and he knows the forest better than you. How many times had he made the trip to that cabin? How many times had he sought out your grandmother? Had smiled at her, chopped up wood for her, had collected groceries and medicines? How many times had she let him in every time he knocked, every time he emerged from the shadows and soaked up the warmth of her kindness?

What were her last words?

No, please, don’t! Spare me?

Or why, Toji, why?

What will be yours?

A flash of movement catches your eye. He’s not panting like you, he’s not even sweating. When he steps forward, brushing his hair back, you don’t fail to notice he didn’t come empty handed.

His eyes glint, sharper than the axe he carries, and he’s roving over your features, watching you tremble. One sniff and his scar is stretching.

“Y’r afraid.”

“Yeah, no f-fucking kidding!”

Even as he keeps his voice deceptively soft, much like how it is when he’s lulling you to sleep, you can’t stop staring at the axe. That stupid fucking axe he just had to bring with him. You sob.

“Just leave me alone, please.”

Scoffing, he steps closer once more. “Not even gonna ask if I did or didn’t?”

You shake your head.

“Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.”

He lunges, pinning you to a tree with a forearm to your throat. Radiating heat, your body betrays you and presses closer to him, desperate to envelope yourself in that warmth. You want nothing more than to be back in bed with him, oblivious to the rest of the world. You want to go back to before that phone call and make it so that you never found out, so that you never picked up the damn phone.

Teeth snapping a hair’s breadth away from your nose, he demands, “Ask.”

“Did you?” You scream at him. “Did you kill my fucking grandmother? After everything she did for you? After she showed you kindness and hospitality and gave you friendship? Did you kill her even after she begged? Did you watch the life fade from her eyes knowing she never got to say goodbye to me? To any of us?”

His glare softens. There’s a tenderness swirling in those green eyes, a fervour and understanding that thaws your heart. He looks like the Toji you know, or rather, knew. He looks like the Toji that had pushed himself to trek in the snow for hours so you can be fed, the Toji that kept you company every day, that fixed things without needing to be asked, the one that made you coffee and knew just how you liked it, the one that traced patterns you had drawn him on your skin when he thought you weren’t awake.

“Did you kill her?”

Scar grazing your lips as he inhales the shampoo from your hair, you feel his answer just as well as you hear it.

“Yes.”

A gunshot resounds in the air. It’s sharp and startling, cutting through the crisp silence with a violent roar. The sound lingers in the air, echoing and rattling your bones like it had been fired inside you.

“Get the fuck away from her, beast!”

You turn to the side. A man you don’t recognise is standing metres away holding a shotgun. His face is contorted in rage, creating deep shadows and wrinkles that make him look infinitely older than he likely is. Smoke wisps away from the barrel of his fun, pointed at the sky. A warning shot.

Toji pushes you behind him as he growls.

“Fuck off. She’s mine.”

You trip over your blanket. Through his legs, you see that man lower the gun till it points in your direction. You’re frozen in place.

“Let her go and turn yourself in. An animal like you needs to be muzzled and put down,” the man spits, venom flooding his words. He looks at you. “Come here. My father sent me. You know him.”

Stumbling to a stand on shaky knees, you back away from Toji, going around the tree and making your way to the other side. He doesn’t stop you, just watches every move you make as if you’re standing in a field of landmines. His grip on the axe doesn’t loosen and he makes no sign he’s going to give himself up.

“T-Toji, don’t fight, please just come with us. If you give yourself up, maybe they’ll go easy on you,” you plead.

He growls, grimacing. He’s contemplating it. That means everything to you. In some sick, pathetic joke, you actually pity him. There’s still a huge part of you that cares, that wants what’s best for him, that loves him. But that part needs to be extinguished because he’s a cold blooded killer and he’ll turn those murderous hands on you.

Leg jerking, he makes a step towards you. It feels so right, you mirror his movement, like this one act, one sacrifice makes up for everything, like it erases the sins of his past and washes away the blood on his hands.

“Ahh!” You’re yanked back by your hair.

“Don’t get near him, you stupid bitch! He’s a fucking mongrel.”

The snarl that ripples from Toji’s throat pierces through haze, rustling the branches up above and forcing a flock of birds up and away. He charges towards you, axe raised up high and you shake yourself from the man’s clutches, jumping out of the way just in time before bodies collide and they both fall.

Rolling away, you bundle up the blanket you’re shielding yourself with and cry into it. The sound of bodies being beaten, arms bent, stomachs kicked and necks bitten into make you cringe. You cry harder. You don’t dare look at who’s winning, you can’t bring yourself to look. It’s because you don’t want to see the violence, don’t want to see blood, but there’s a voice screaming that it’s because you’ll die if the one who walks away from this isn’t Toji.

“Don’t fucking touch her!”

“Get the fuck off me! You filthy mutt!”

You’re digging your nails into the bark of a tree, flinching with every blow. You hear fists slamming into flesh, each punch a blunt weapon bruising and breaking, bone-crushing swings whistling through air followed by sharp exhales of pain and vomit-inducing cracks and pops. The struggle is relentless, blow after blow, and you hear the gun clatter as it’s kicked to the side.

SNAP!

“You should have never come back! You should have died on the side of the street after what you did to that woman”

POP!

“Ahhh! Fuck!”

SMACK!

“Ya don’t know shit!”

The trees are spectators, moaning and whistling in protest at the unholy sight, at the splatters of blood contaminating their ranks. The branches shake in warning but no one is listening.

Whimpering, you hum a song, trying to block out the repulsive sounds of senseless violence. You should have never been here. You never visited because you couldn’t stand the isolation of a cabin in the mountains, couldn’t stand the unconditional love your grandmother gave you, of which you knew then and you know now, you were never deserving of.

If you had been dutiful and even had a fraction of her selflessness, you would have taken care of her so that she never relied on a man with sharp senses and a dangerous smile.

If you had been a good granddaughter, that man would be roaming the world, unburdened by material possession and human attachments. He wouldn’t be beating a man black and blue, wouldn’t be tearing flesh from bone, wouldn’t be debasing himself for your sake, or his. You don’t know anymore.

You turn to yell at him to stop, for him to run instead. But your words are swallowed by a gunshot.

A body falls to the floor in a dull thud. Crimson dyes the snow, puddling into a shade so dark you could always persuade yourself it’s not what you think it is. Time slows. You can see every flake of snow pause in the air, you can count them, can collect them in your hands. The wind has disappeared, leaving behind a stillness in the air that’s suffocating, choking you from inside. Even the trees have stopped their moaning.

Your heart stops beating.

Someone stands over the body, holding a smoking gun, and it isn’t who you wanted it to be.

“Toji!” You scramble over, hands shaking harder than ever before.

He’s clutching his chest. Hot liquid drenches your pants. You didn’t realise fresh blood would be so warm and you wish so badly it wasn’t because it means that the warmth that should be inside him is leaving, being absorbed by the ground, by you.

Green eyes, dulling, meet yours. He smiles. “She asked me to. She was in pain. Couldn’t make it down through the snow. She asked me.”

“N-no, stop it. Save your breath, please.” Through your sobs, you turn to the nameless man, pale under the cuts all over his face as the snow and shuddering from the shock of what he had done. “Call the ambulance! Call somebody! Please!”

“C-car. I-it’s in my car.” Staggering back, he drops the gun and fishes out his keys, muttering frenzied apologies under his breath. He limps his way back, weaving through the trees.

Despite having less cuts and bruises, he’s in much worser state. His chest heaves and you’re trying to press down on the wound like you’ve seen in the movies but you don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know whether you’re supposed to be smothering the hole with a dirty blanket or if you should be performing CPR. No one had ever trained you for this. This wasn’t covered in any of those HR meetings. “Oh, god, Toji. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. Oh. God. I’m so so sorry.”

Lifting a limp hand, he brushes a tear away only for it to be replaced by a hundred more. He huffs a weak laugh at the blood he smears on your face and he tries to brush that away too.

“I’d always wanted to meet you. She spoke of how beautiful, how kind and generous you are. Her favourite. Didn’t believe her, y’know? I thought, no one could possibly be that nice if they never even visit their gran. But I’d always wanted to know for myself.”

You shake your head. He shouldn’t be speaking. He should be saving his breath, should be focusing on keeping awake until help arrives. “Stop. Please, just stop. Don’t waste your energy on me. I-I don’t deserve it. I should have listened, should have heard you out. Oh, god, Toji.”

He huffs an amused laugh. He sounds so clear, so loud, so alive you could actually convince yourself he doesn’t have a bleeding hole in his chest. But you can’t because you can feel the blood flowing out, it’s caking your legs and your hands.

“You wanna know what I think, ma?” Pulling you close, you don’t fight his grip. Through your whimpers, you press your ear to his lips, holding him close like you could will your own warmth to him, like you could jostle you both back to consciousness. “I think y’r even more beautiful than she said. My gorgeous gorgeous girl. Mine.”

It’s unclear if he said anything else after that; you could only hear your own pleadings and sobbing as his arms fall limp and his body grows cold. There came rustling from all over the forest like they heard a tree fell, a mighty and sturdy tree. They warned you. There are consequences to dirtying the snow’s purity, to upsetting the balance. That’s a lesson all animals know. But the battle that had gone on here wasn’t committed by preys and predators. Just men.

And men never learn their lesson until it’s far too late.

The trees cry with you.

For you.

When the marching of people came some time later, all yelling and barking orders to each other, they found you lying on his chest, just as you had for many nights and had imagined you would every night after, with a red blanket pulled over the both of you.

There, silent as a lamb, you slept.

A tear-stricken city girl and her big, bad wolf.

Neither of which would ever live again.

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji smut #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk fic #jjk oneshot #toji oneshot #Toji angst

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eufezco · 7 months ago

Text

LIKE THE FIRST TIME

it has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him.

logan x afab!reader (smut, angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter

it was a shitty place where you were living with logan. it was always dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it, it was noisy, because despite being in the middle of nowhere, the train tracks were very close to it, and it was the least home-like thing in the world. both of you were working your asses off to get out of there as soon as possible.

in your free time, you helped caliban with the housework and took care of old charles xavier while logan spent the whole day out, driving and having to deal with one of the things he hated most in the world, people.

he always came home late, tired, with his whole body aching. some nights you would fall asleep while waiting for him and even though logan asked you to do it, to not to wait up for him, most times you stayed up so just to make sure he arrived safely. you waited for him curled up in bed. when he was a minute late, your heart began to beat faster and you imagined the worst. but then he would come into the room, dragging his feet and with his head bowed down.

—how was your day?

logan grunted as he sat at the foot of your bed, you felt how the mattress sagged with his weight.

—did something happen?

you crawled to him and rested your chin on his shoulder. he let out a sigh of relief when your arms wrapped around his body and you hugged him from the back.

—just a tired fuckin' day, that's all.

you hummed, understanding. —well, now you are home so you can finally relax. would you like something to eat?

logan shook his head as he let it fall back and rest on your shoulder. he just wanted to stay like that a little longer with his body between your legs and his eyes closed. he placed one of his hands over yours resting on his stomach as you hugged him. one of his big hands was enough to cover both of yours.

—i've missed you, lo. i always miss you when you are away.

you placed a kiss on his neck. the first thing he did when he entered the house was to get rid of his shirt, keeping only the white tank top he was wearing underneath. his broad shoulders were at your disposal, his muscular arms and warm skin as well.

logan swallowed when he felt your lips on his neck. you noticed so you placed another kiss there.

—i miss you too. every second i spend away from you, i miss you.

you hummed, your heart gave a small jump of joy. while your love language was words of affirmation and you were always reminding him how much he was loved by you, logan was more of an act of service man. removing makeup from your face when you got home and were too tired to do it yourself, washing your hair and massaging your head when you showered, and leaving your coffee ready when he went to work earlier than you. hearing those words come out of logan's mouth meant the whole world.

your hands traveled down his abdomen until they reached the hem of his tshirt and easily slipped under the fabric. you felt his perfect abs under your fingertips and the hairs growing below his belly button as well. he took a deep breath, it had been so long since the last time he had allowed you to touch him like that.

you took your hands out of his tshirt and moved one of them to his neck to make logan turn his head resting on your shoulder and look at you. you connected your lips with his, his bushy beard pricked your face as you kissed him, but you didn't mind, it had been so long since you and logan had kissed so passionately that you could take it.

your tongue slipped past his lips and logan moaned, allowing his to go inside your mouth as well. you moved on the bed, putting one leg on each side of logan's body and sitting on his lap, all this without stopping kissing for a second. his hands now rested on your lower back, yours were on the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

his cock got rock hard the moment you sat on his thighs and you started to roll your hips timidly against his crotch. you felt his growing bulge rubbing against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. god, how bad you needed to feel him.

your hands slid down from his neck, caressing his entire torso, until they reached again the hem of his tshirt. you tried to pull the white tank top over his head, but logan stopped you. his lips parted from yours and he shook his head.

—it's okay. i want you, logan. i promise everything is fine.

you held his cheeks so he would look you in the eyes.

he was getting old, there was nothing left of the young and charming boy you met at charles' academy. his body had changed, his hair and beard were becoming whiter every day, and you were still young and full of light while he was fading away. yet you still loved and desired him, like the first day you craved his body. you found him just as hot, even hotter now, but you didn't want to force him to do something he wasn't going to enjoy.

you kissed him so he could stop worrying. —let me take care of you. i want you, lo, i need to feel you —.you mumbled against his lips. he let out a grunt when he felt you pressing your pussy harder on his bulge.

your hands traveled the same path down his chest one more time until you reached the edge of his tshirt again. you expected him to take your hands off him again but he not only allowed you to keep going but he also lifted his arms so you could pull the white tank top over his head.

—fuck —. you let out in a mix of moan and gasp. his body was breathtaking. your hands were quickly attached to his chest, hairy, hard under your touch, warm, with each of its muscles perfectly defined. abs, pecs, perfect broad and muscular shoulders, and wide strong arms, with veins running from his shoulder down his arms to the back of his hands. you ran your fingers along the thick scars that marked his body. —fuck, you're so hot.

with his hands on your back, logan gently pushed you to keep rubbing yourself against him and you moaned, he was harder if possible and you were so wet that you knew that your panties would be completely soaked. you kissed the crook of his neck while his fists clenched, clutching at the tshirt of his that you were wearing as your pajamas. logan fought against his instinct, against the animalistic way you were making him feel, but his grip became so tight that he ended up ripping the fabric.

—it was one of your favorite tshirts.

—don't care.

and logan kissed your lips as he ended up tearing the fabric completely and threw it on the floor. you grabbed the back of his head when his lips moved down your neck and collarbone. your nipples were already painfully hard when logan cupped one of your tits and wrapped his mouth around your sensitive bud.

all of a sudden you got up from his lap and he had to let your nipple go. he was worried about the way you had moved away from him, had he done something wrong?

now you were standing in the middle of the room, in front of him, only wearing your panties. your body was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever witnessed, with scars very similar to his, with all those things you hated about yourself. was that how you felt about him? if it had not been for the pain in his whole body he would have fallen off the bed on his knees in front of you.

he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes once you started swaying your hips from side to side while you slid your underwear down your legs. you laughed too, you felt stupid, but at least you had managed to make him smile. you two weren't the type to do those things, things were always more animalistic, more passionate, rougher. you walked towards him and leaned in to kiss him as your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.

—you're beautiful —. he whispered.

logan helped you to straddle him again. you held your body over his thanks to your knees on the bed. with one hand you grabbed his hard cock resting impatiently against his stomach. he gasped because of your firm grip and squeezed your hips when you lined it up against your aching entrance.

you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan. you never forgot how big he was, the thickness of his cock, the patch of hair on its base, and the veins running along his shaft, but you did forget about the way it stretched you open, about the sting that his dick going deeper inside you caused.

—careful —. logan mumbled against your lips.

you kept taking him, closing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip, hissing every time you took a centimeter more inside of you. you rested your forehead against his and whined when his cock finally bottomed you. —i need a moment.

logan nodded. one of your hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit while his hands lovingly caressed your back. it had been so long since you had sex. logan wouldn't let you touch him, he was disgusted by his own body and he was afraid that you would see him the way he saw himself. that's why that night you decided that you would make him feel so good that he would never doubt the way you felt about him or his body.

you started by slowly rolling your hips as your fingers worked on your clit. his jaw tightened while he felt your body moving with his whole cock inside. his big hands on your hips helped you to move, setting a pace and keeping you from going faster so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

—that's it, take your time —. he said. young logan wouldn't have given you a second to get used to it, he would have fucked you mercilessly and you would have loved every second of it. but now, his eyes were focused on where your bodies became one, enjoying how your pussy adjusted to his size thanks to your fingers rubbing your clit.

he moaned once you lifted your body just a little and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again. your cries and his moans mixed in your mouths. all his body jerked every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.

—you make me feel so good, logan. always have, fuck—. you purred in his ear. his hands, previously resting on your hips, slid all the way to your ass your hands and squeezed it. in those little details you could see how he was gaining confidence, which encouraged you to keep moving without changing your pace. it was slow, passionate, intense and intimate.

between moans and cries, you kept worshiping him, telling him how much you had missed feeling him inside you, how your fingers were no comparison to his cock, how you didn't want to share these moments with anyone other than him. there was no one like him. you didn't care about his scars, his moodiness, the gray of his hair, there would never be another one for you but logan, you did not want another one.

you were close, he could feel it in the way your walls were squeezing his cock and he knew he wouldn't last longer. logan wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you against his hard chest, and your fingers knotted into his hair. he groaned, your little jumps became irregular, your legs began to shake. logan hugged you tighter and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, getting a little choked cry from you.

—cum inside me, lo. fill me up, please, i need it. let me have it, please.

oh god, your words were driving him insane and after how well you had treated him, who was he to deny your wishes?

logan held your body down on his cock as he came, hugging you tighter against him. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin while your legs shook and your pussy clenched around him. it was too much. as he released himself inside you, his claws came out and trapped you between them and logan's body, you had no escape. he groaned when he felt the pain of the adamantium ripping the skin off his knuckles mixed with all the pleasure of cumming inside you.

—shit —. he immediately put the claws away when he realized. —i haven't hurt you, have i?

you shook your head, still coming down from your high. he exhaled with relief. once you had caught your breath, you straightened your back, still sitting on his lap and feeling his cock getting soft inside you. you brought his hands to the front.

—are you okay? that probably hurt —. you caressed his knuckles.

—felt too good to even think about it.

you smiled proudly and kissed him. when you broke away, he noticed the mark of his teeth on the skin of your shoulder. —'m so sorry, fuck.

—don't be. i wish you had bitten me harder.

he shook his head, keeping himself from laughing. —you're a freak.

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hoonjayke · 2 months ago

Text

Sim Jaeyun — TOO FAST TOO BAD

Jake is known as the city’s famous drift king, a legend in the illegal street racing world, completely untouchable and invincible. However, when you're assigned to work undercover as a racer for an investigation, you don't expect that getting involved with Jake would mess with your morals and most importantly, your heart.

PAIRING: — Street Racer Jake x Cop Reader (f)

GENRE: fluff, a bit of angst, super suggestive, smut, slow burn, illegal street racing au (inspired by fast and furious)

WARNINGS: lots of heavy making out (pool, car, bedroom, bathroom) yeah they're freaky, a bit of dirty talking, petnames, skinship, small slow burn, mentions of alcohol, guns and drugs, fighting, a little bit of cursing, morally grey characters, mentions of death, etc. Jake is blonde from the beginning till half of the story. Enhypen OT7 + one oc for the plot.

WC: 23k — masterlist - perm taglist

— Author Note: Guys I know this is long but it's totally worth it, I swearrr. I've been thinking about writing this for a long time and it's finally hereee, so I'm really happy. Hope you guys like it ♡

The tire tracks on the asphalt formed a random pattern that not even forensics could figure out how many cars had passed by. The smell of gasoline was as natural as the dew that night.

As the loud music contrasted with the sound of laughter from the countless people there, you mingled through the crowd with your arms crossed, trying to get a better view of the 4 cars positioned in the middle of the track. Your low-waisted jeans bothered you as you felt the wind hit the small skin patch on your back.

“It's the king!” One person shouted and the crowd began to make room for a red convertible to pass and park next to the 4 positioned cars. “Make room for the king to pass.”

The applause and cheers were deafening as Jake stepped out of the car. His bleached hair shone in the streetlights and his smile was almost mesmerizing. He had an aura that was noticeable from afar, no one there could take their eyes off him.

He was leaning against his car with a tall man beside him.

“If the king is present today, then it will be a good race.” A girl next to you commented and you looked at her trying to get more information about that environment “Who's this king? Can he drive?” You asked and she looked at you with a look of shock, as if the question was absurd “If he can drive?” She scoffed “Do you know what DK stands for?” You shook your head and she looked back at Jake. He looked eager to see tonight’s competitors. “It means Drift King. Besides being an incredible racer, he is also the best at drifting.”

You somehow knew he was a key player in all of this, but apparently, he was much more respected than you expected. He clearly is the leader who brought people together there.

“How can I meet him?” The girl gave a sarcastic laugh, shaking her head negatively. “No one can get close to him like that, only the best racers.” She looked into your eyes and whispered “That is, if you fall into his good graces.”

You remained silent, watching as the sound of the car engines warming up shook the environment. A few guys seemed to be trying to get Jake's attention, some with explicit flattery and others with fearful comments disguised as compliments. He remained unfazed, looking through the crowd as if nothing could shake his inner peace.

“Alright, the race is about to start.” A young boy with a few piercings in his ears stood in the middle of the cars talking about how it would all work. “Rules are simple, entry is 2 grand in cash and winner takes all.” The racers looked at each other through the open windows of the cars and Jake smirked at the tension in the air.

“Ready, set,” the boy yelled, “Go!” He lowered the flags and the crowd went wild with the sound of the cars speeding away. Your eyes lit up as you saw how the whole scene seemed to fit together. The loud music, the night lights casting shadows that nicely adorned the custom cars, and the smell of burning tires.

As the race went on, you watched Jake's face from afar. He seemed to have everything under control with a melancholic look as he watched the cars turn at exorbitant speeds.

You weren't used to this environment. It was different from anything you had ever seen or experienced in your life, which increased your curiosity. You were starting to realize why these races would attract so many people's attention. The customized cars, the adrenaline of the races, and the smell of nitrous oxide were somehow fun.

As they crossed the finish line, the people there cheered as they saw the winner get out of his car. He gave Jake an expectant look as if he wanted recognition. Jake just smiled and without saying a single word turned to get into his car and leave.

You walked away from the crowd and left the place thinking how this is going to be more challenging than you thought.

☆

“Congrats on your promotion.” Jay approached you with that gentle smile that only he knew how to give “I'm glad we can work together in this case.”

You smiled and bumped his closed fist “Yeah, me too.” He sat down next to you at the huge conference room table. Your boss, who was already seated, silently looked at you both before turning on the computer and starting the meeting.

“Finally, we can start the meeting.” Your superior cleared his throat and turned on the slides. “As you know, the new drug in circulation is causing many problems like sudden deaths in young people in their 20s, but the only clue we have about the culprit is in the middle of these illegal races.”

A photo of the places in the city where the races would probably take place appeared on the screen. “Our informant got the information that there are probably some drug dealers from the creator of this drug in the middle of the races. If we capture at least one of his drug dealers, we can get to the culprit.” He looked at you. “What were your impressions of the place?”

You sighed “The easiest way to infiltrate and talk to the people there is to gain the trust of their leader.” Your boss and Jay paid attention to what you said “He is the most respected by people there. He is tough and is not impressed by ass-kissers, so I need to make a good impression.”

“How do you intend to gain his trust?” You gave your boss a side smile. “I have some ideas but I need you to cooperate with me.”

“Are you sure about this?” Jay looked at you worriedly “I think it’s too risky.” You leaned back in your chair “I trained for this, you don’t need to worry.”

Your superior nodded his head and sighed “What do you need?”

“I pick the car and I do things my way.” You leaned across the table and smiled. “To catch a king’s attention, you have to be the perfect entertainment.”

Your boss smiled in satisfaction. “Great. You start on Monday at your new apartment and job. Jay will cover for you during the week with whatever you need.” He stood up from the table before looking at the two of you. “Be careful.”

Jay looked at you and gave you a confident smile “C'mon my favorite racer.” You smiled, standing up with him patting his back “Let's go find a stupid dealer.”

The night seemed as exciting as all the others, but for some unknown reason, Jake felt that tonight's race would be different. He stood on the hood of the car watching the crowd approach the cars while drinking an energy drink to wake himself up. He was tired from the work he had in the car workshop earlier, but he wasn't going to sleep early.

“What are you thinking about?” Sunghoon walked over with his hands in his pockets “You’re quieter than usual.”

Jake smiled and swallowed the rest of the energy drink he had in his hand. “I was thinking about how I want to see an exciting race today.” He looked at Sunghoon. “I don’t wanna see a race that makes me regret not going home to sleep.”

Sunghoon chuckled and sat down next to Jake “Let’s watch and find out then.” He looked ahead to see more cars arriving at the scene. “But it looks like we’ll have some interesting things today.”

From afar, some familiar convertibles arrived, but one car in particular caught their attention.

A pink Toyota Supra MK4 arrived in the middle of the crowd, making everyone look at the car that had a red fireworks design on the sides. The men whistled in awe of the machine and the girls seemed excited to see that the driver was a woman.

When the door opened, you stepped out of the vehicle as if you were used to it. Jake looked at you from afar and gave you a mischievous smile “Who's that?” He asked biting his lower lip, analyzing you from top to bottom. Your denim skirt with some chains, your long black boots, and the tight pink blouse that adorned your beautiful body.

Sunghoon smirked “I have no idea, but I want to know.” He and Jake looked at each other before getting up from the car and approaching the place where you were talking to a racer.

'hey baby, wanna see my car?' 'let me see what your front can do pretty.' A few men around cat called you, but you just ignored them rolling your eyes and focused on showing a confident posture. You knew you had to focus on your mission and the first step is to make an iconic entrance and gain trust from the drivers.

“Damn babe, what a machine.” A boy who clearly looked younger than you approached your car looking at all the details “Wanna show what you got in there?” He pointed to the hood of your car and you approached him with your arms crossed.

“Not yet.” You smiled and the boy ran his hand through his hair “ C'mon, don't play hard with me.” He pointed to his car “I can show you mine.” You slightly turned your head to the side thinking of his proposition and he smiled “I'm Ni-ki by the way.” He held out his hand and you shook it gently “I'm Y/N.”

You smiled before bending down slightly to open the hood of your car. Jake watched the interaction (and your thighs) with curious eyes.

“Since you are so curious, here.” You showed the engine of your car and Ni-ki approached, narrowing his eyes “You're kidding me.” He widened his eyes in shock “You got a cool-air intake, NOS-fogger system and a T-Four Turbo with nitrous injection?!” You nodded and he gave you an airy laugh “That's crazy shit.” He suspiciously looked at you “Wanted to keep this a secret for the race, huh?”

You smiled and closed the car hood before sitting on top of it. “Exactly.”

Your little interaction were interrupted by the crowd greeting Jake and Sunghoon who approached you.

“What's up Ni-ki.” Jake fist-bumped Ni-ki “Sup king, gonna race tonight?” He shook his head and turned to you “Nah, today I want to see the new talents.”

You smiled at Jake who was staring at you shamelessly “You're new here.” He spoke to you and you rejoiced internally knowing that you managed to get his attention “I am, and you're the famous king I've heard of.”

The people around cheered and Jake walked over to stand in front of you “Didn't know I was famous.” His deep voice answered you and you stood up again “You are.” You crossed your arms and looked at him smiling “I was kinda hoping you would race tonight, that's sad tho.”

Jake ran his hand through his blond hair with a smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I want to see the newbies today.”

You nodded your head “That's good, because I'm racing tonight.” Sunghoon smiled and spoke to you “So you wanna race.” “Yeah.” He looked at Jake and smiled. “Since it's your first time here I should tell you the rules.”

His gaze was attentive and Sunghoon pulled a wad of money from his pocket. “You need to pay if you want a chance to run in our race.”

“How much?” Jake twirled the ring on his finger as he looked at you curiously “2 grand in cash. This or nothing.” He held out his hand and you stared at the tall man’s hand in front of you.

“Can I offer something better?” You asked and Sunghoon’s eyebrows arched “It depends on what it is, newbie.” He checked you out “What you got in mind?”

“Here's the deal, if I lose winner takes my car, clean and clear. But if I win,” You turned to Jake and smiled “I take the cash and I take the respect.”

Jake approached you, looking into your eyes, and shot a smile that could blind anyone nearby “You want my respect?” People around laughed “For some people that's all that matters.” He smiled in surprise at your response, clearly enjoying the conversation.

You stared at each other for a few seconds and Jake looked at Sunghoon with satisfaction in his eyes “Let her race.” He walked to his best friend’s side before turning to look at you one last time “Wanna see what this newbie has to show us.”

You smiled and Ni-ki whispered beside you “You're crazy. If you lose your car, you're gonna lose more than just 2 grand.” You turned around to Ni-ki “Then I just need to win.” Your gaze followed Jake and Sunghoon before he went to get in his car for the race that night.

☆

All 4 cars lined up on the track and your car was the first in line. On your right side was Ni-ki with his car, and then two more cars with a girl and another boy you hadn't met yet.

You looked to your left and saw Jake looking at you with an enigmatic smile.

Now would be the moment when you needed to put into practice everything you had trained. You knew you were a good driver because you’d already done many police chases, but this was different. You had to focus on everything at the same time and calculate the exact moment to overtake the other cars.

You started the car and pressed the clutch and brake holding the car in place. The volume of the cars engine along with the tires was so loud that you could barely hear the girl who was between the 4 cars.

When the flags lowered, you released the brake and accelerated with everything you had. The sprint the car made in seconds made you remember why you trained so hard for this, the adrenaline was indescribable. Ni-ki came out first and you soon after him. The other 2 cars stayed behind you two while the crowd went crazy.

You increased the speed and pressed the clutch, putting the car in 4th gear, while turning the car to the right slightly, blocking the girl who wanted to overtake you at all costs.

Ni-ki was the first to use nitrous oxide (NOS), creating a larger space between the two of you. “Too soon, boy.” You laughed before accelerating and putting it into 5th gear. Ni-ki looked in the rearview mirror and saw that you were approaching faster than he expected and he needed to save the last boost of NOS for the end of the race. “Shit.”

Jake was having fun as he watched the race from afar “She’s good.” He commented and Sunghoon let out a small laugh “Indeed.”

You pressed a button on your steering wheel and activated the NOS, passing by Ni-ki, giving a smile to the boy who frowned. “Sorry, gotta take the lead.”

When you turned around the cone that was positioned at the end of the street, you pressed the clutch downshifting and turned using the handbrake, not letting the power drop too much and slid smoothly, giving a slight drift before accelerating with everything. When you looked at your rearview you saw that Ni-ki wasn't going to give you a break.

The front of Ni-ki's car almost touched yours before you swerved slightly and you saw him smiling in the rearview mirror. "I need to end this kid now.”

His car caught up to you and you were side by side. Before he could retake the lead, you activated the last of your car's NOS and accelerated with everything you had. In a surprise, you saw the car of the boy who was in last place pass Ni-ki and almost catch you.

Ni-ki saw that the one who had passed him was Jungwon, so he decided that either he used his NOS at that moment, or he would not even have a chance of being 2nd place. Jungwon blocked both sides, not giving Ni-ki an opening, moving the car in a zigzag that irritated the boy. “Man, I hate when Jungwon pulls shit like this.” He decided to accelerate slightly to the right and push Jungwon's car to the left, hitting the right taillight of his car.

Jungwon got angry and pressed the accelerator, but Ni-ki was still pressing his side and used the last NOS boost to retake 2nd place. You, who were approaching the finish line, saw that Ni-ki started to hit the back of your car to slow you down and you blocked his view and stepped on the accelerator, making your back stick to the seat behind you and your hair fly back with the wind and the adrenaline hitting you.

Ni-ki managed to stay by your side again with a smile, but before he could celebrate you threw your car against his, making him brake slightly and you passed the finish line by seconds. You slowed down and braked until the car stopped completely and the crowd covered your car with applause and whistles.

Ni-ki arrived right after you, followed by Jungwon and the other girl last.

Your heart was racing with adrenaline, but you smiled happily at the victory. You got out of the car, greeting some girls who were celebrating around you as Jake crossed the crowd, clapping slowly with a look of satisfaction that let you know that you had done a good job there.

“You did it. Congrats on your victory.” He smiled and took the wad of money from Sunghoon and threw it into your hands. “You got the cash.”

You held the money thinking about how you’d never made so much money in such a short period of time “What about your respect?” Jake looked into your eyes that shone with a kind of anticipation that he found adorable. “That too.” He held out his hand and smiled. You shook Jake’s hand, feeling the calluses on his large palm. The way he looked at your orbits disconcerted you as if he could see right into you.

“That was crazy.” Ni-ki spoke to you, drawing your attention and making Jake let go of your hand. “Can't believe you hit me with your car.” You smiled before seeing the 2nd and 3rd place finishers arrive “Learned that from you.”

“Look who's talking.” Jungwon scoffed “You destroyed the taillight of my car.” Ni-ki laughed, scratching the back of his head “We do what we gotta do to win.”

“I agree.” You answered and saw Jake next to you, running his index finger across his mouth as if he wanted to say something important “Now tell me babe, that drift on the way back.” He looked at you “Where did you learn that?”

You knew that not everyone drifted because it was too risky, not to mention that it wore out the tires more and could make the car lose control. However, in one lap you gained an absurd amount of time. Your maneuvers had been practiced before, but the fact that you'd driven under pressure several times because of work was the best weapon you could have.

“I've got my secrets, you know.” You smiled seeing Jake amused by your reaction “I see… you're the mysterious type.” He leaned on the hood of your car looking at you “I like it.”

You felt your cheeks heat up slightly at Jake’s validation. Not that you needed it, but it was strange how his voice alone could change the vibe of the place.

As other cars arrived for owners to compare the best engines and the crowd began to disperse slightly, Jake spoke to you again “You know newbie, we're having a small gathering at Sunghoon's place right now.” He kept looking at you “You're welcome to come.”

Your smile was instantaneous “Sure, I'd love to.” He nodded his head “I'll lead the path, you can follow me.” he gave you one last look and smirked “That is, if you can keep up with me.” You air laughed “Of course.”

“I’ll hitch a ride with you guys, wait for me.” Ni-ki said excitedly going to his car “Me too, man.” Jungwon agreed and you smiled getting into your car. Now you were going to follow Jake and for the first time you could see him driving. Even if it wasn't in a race, you wanted to see the vibe of the famous king of the streets.

Jake got into his gray Nissan Skyline GTR R34. The two blue stripes adorned the front of the car and he rolled down the windows to look around to see who would be following him. He placed his right hand on the steering wheel and leaned his left arm on the window as he waited for people to make way for him to get out. As he accelerated, the wind made the blond strands of his bangs show off his forehead beautifully.

You couldn't deny it, Jake's vibe was priceless. It was much cooler than you expected, and way hotter too.

When you arrived at Sunghoon's house, there were already a few cars parked there, all customized. You parked next to Jake and got out of the vehicle, seeing Ni-ki and Jungwon also park.

Sunghoon's house looked big, not in a huge way, but a kind of house that looked comfortable. Jake locked his car and walked towards you with a smile. You analyzed his outfit, the black leather jacket adorning his beautiful shoulders along with the white blouse that perfectly highlighted his chest and abdomen. His gray jeans matched your skirt, making you wonder why you had this sudden association.

“C'mon newbie. I want you to meet a few people.” Jake snapped you out of your thoughts “Sure.”

“Hey, we're here too.” Niki said and Jungwon laughed “You're such an attention seeker.” Ni-ki nudged him “I want the VIP treatment too.”

“When you do a drift like she did I'll make sure to treat you well, Ni-ki.” Jake turned to the boy as they walked up the small stairs to the front of the house.

“HEY! That's a promise king!!!” The boy smiled as he took off the coat he was wearing “I'll make sure you remember this later.”

Jake rolled his eyes and you smiled. He looked at you curiously “Having fun, newbie?” The way his eyes always look right into your orbits makes you a little bit nervous “Yeah.”

“That's good.” He smiled and you entered the house seeing that there were more people there than you expected. “Small gathering, huh?” Jake was amused by your sarcastic tone “This is small for us.” He lowered his head so he could speak in your ear “I just realized I don't know your name yet.” His sweet voice blowing in your ear was like a cocktail you sip when you want to relax.

“I'm Y/N.” You replied, turning your face away, realizing he was closer than you expected. “Nice to meet you, Y/N.” He smiled “You can call me Jake.”

Jake. His name was Jake. It suited him.

“Hey Jake, Heeseung was looking for you.” Sunghoon called Jake interrupting their little interaction “Where is he?” Jake, you, Ni-ki and Jungwon walked through the crowd following Sunghoon until they saw a boy at the back of the house hugging a girl on the side while drinking a beer and laughing at something another guy next to him was saying.

“Heeseung.” Jake smiled and reached out to grab Hesseung's hand, pulling him into a light one-armed hug. “Sup Jake my king.” Heeseung's eyes checked you out “And who's this?” He smiled as if you were an interesting novelty.

“The newbie that won the race today.” Jake replied by putting his arm around your shoulders. The scent of Jake’s cologne invaded your senses “It was really surprising.”

“She won one race and you already invited her to our space?” Heeseung's tone had a hint of criticism mixed with interest “That must have been a hell of a race.”

“Yeah, it was. Gotta respect the newbie.” Sunghoon commented enthusiastically and you gave Heeseung a sarcastic smile “Next time you can watch me race and draw your own conclusions.”

The boys around laughed and Heeseung smirked “Yeah, I'll definitely come.” He held out his hand and you shook it “I'm Heeseung, you can count on me if you need any urgent repairs.” He said obviously looking at your legs as if there wasn't a girl next to him glaring at him “I'm Y/N.” You let go of the boy's hand and Jake turned you to introduce the other boys.

“You’ve already met Ni-ki ” He smiled with a wink that amused you “This is Sunghoon, he’s like my brother and helps organize the races.” The tall boy smiled taking your hand “Yeah, I figured it.”

“This is Jihoon.” Jake pointed to the boy next to Heeseung who seemed quiet and gave you a shy smile.

“This is Jungwon. He was our last newbie before you.” Jungwon smiled gently, “Hey.” His soft voice contrasting with his strong personality from the race amused you “You were amazing back there.” You gave Ni-ki a quick glance “I almost thought you were going to take 2nd place from Ni-ki.”

“Hey, I wouldn't let him take my place that easily.” Ni-ki defended himself and Jungwon sighed “Yeah, now I have to repair my car.”

“Tell me about it.” You smiled. “I’ll have to use the money I earned to repair the front of my car that hit Ni-ki’s car.”

“You can come to my garage, we repair our cars there.” Jake said making you think that was actually a great idea.

“Alright.” You gave a small smile before Jake’s phone rang and he looked at the screen and gentle smiled as his eyes softened “I have to get this, I’ll be right back.” As you watched him walk away to a quieter spot, Sunghoon offered you a drink “For you, the winner of the night.”

You knew drinking and driving wasn't good, but under these circumstances it would be suspicious if you didn't accept it. "Thanks." You took the bottle and clinked it with the other boys there.

As the loud music played, in the meantime you noticed that Jihoon didn't say much and just watched you with a strange look that you pretended not to notice. The boy soon left while you talked with Sunghoon, Ni-ki, Jungwon and Heeseung.

While you were talking, you discovered that Jungwon was the son of the owner of the auto parts store you were hired to work at, blowing everyone's minds. You also observed the movement around you, trying to see if you could find any clues or something suspicious, but most of it was just young adults drinking, talking, and flirting with each other.

“I'm going to the bathroom." You excused yourself and looked at everything. Nothing suspicious for now.

☆

After Jake hung up the phone he grabbed a drink and walked around the house greeting people, but he bumped into you coming out of the bathroom making him grab your shoulders. “Oh- sorry babe, I didn't see ya.” He smiled and you nodded “Okay.”

He gave you a mysterious look, noticing that you looked a little tired. “Do you want to go somewhere more private?” You looked at him in surprise and he smiled, putting his hands in his pocket. “I think you need some air.”

“Sure.” You smiled, following him to the balcony of Sunghoon’s house.

Sitting on the bench outside, the music from inside the house was muffled and you observed that Jake seemed calm. At the moment you decided you would enjoy any kind of interaction you had with him.

“So, are you enjoying the party?” He asked, looking at your features “Yeah, everyone is super nice and the drinks are good.” You took a sip of your drink, feeling a little sleepy since it was already past midnight.

“They are.” Jake sighed “Our races only work because everyone helps in their own way, you know?” You nodded and looked at him “And when will I see you race?” Jake smiled sideways, running his hand through his blond locks “Soon.” His eyes remained on yours “I’m missing making some people eat dust.” You laughed, clinking your bottles in a toast “Yeah, I get that.”

During the conversation, a part of you realized that Jake was mysterious, but at the same time, he had a natural magnetism that attracted people. Until the end of the night, you internally wished that the days would pass quickly because you wanted to see Jake in a real race.

You wanted to see the king in action.

Some random rap music played in the background of the store where you worked. Yang's Auto Parts store was one of the landmarks in the area, but today the movement seemed slow. As you leaned on the main counter, you were studying information about car engines and their differences in a specialized car magazine when you heard the sound of the door opening.

“Hello, may I help-” You looked up and saw Jake standing in front of you “you.” The smile he gave you certainly cheered you up more than it should have “Sup newbie.” He leaned over in the counter and you straightened up listening to his heavenly voice “A little bird told me that this store had the best pieces and the best attendant in town.”

Your eyes met Jake's dark ones and you smiled "You're right.” Closing the magazine, you turned to him “Tell me, how can I help you king?”

Jake gave you an airy laugh, placing both arms on the counter. “I need to place an order for some nitrous oxide bottles, a bumper for a Mitsubishi Eclipse model, and-” His face softened “invite you to a race, this weekend, if you're interested.” Your eyes widened and you stepped closer to the counter. “Yeah, count me in.” Jake scanned your lips briefly before returning his attention to your eyes “Great, give me your contact and I'll send the details.” He handed you his phone so you could save his number, and you felt a rush of euphoria at the realization that you had Jake's number and that you were finally going to see him race.

“Also, don't forget my order.” He chuckled getting his phone back “I need it in 2 days, max.” You accessed the store's computer preparing his order “Don't worry, you're going home today with these pieces.” You turned the monitor showing that what he wanted was in stock “Guess you're lucky.” He smiled before pulling a wad of cash from his pocket to pay “Maybe.”

You took the money, feeling his fingertips touch yours, making you a little nervous. 'I'm still getting used to his presence, it's nothing big.' You thought, putting the money in the cash register and going to the warehouse to get the parts he asked for.

Jake helped you with the heavy bumper putting on his red truck. After delivering everything he needed, he turned to you and smiled before saying goodbye.

“You have an eyelash here, babe.” His thumb gently touched your cheek as if he was wiping something there making your heart drop to your stomach “See you soon, newbie.”

“See ya.” He got into the truck and left, while you felt the place he touched burn.

'It's no big deal.' You mentally repeated it and returned to your workstation.

You felt like your prayers were quickly answered when you arrived at the location Jake had sent you on your phone. Unlike other races, the chosen place for tonight's race was a dirt road with cars that you could easily recognize even from afar.

The place was completely different from what your expected, looking more like a country street. The lighting was poor and the road didn't look as good, but oddly enough there seemed to be more people there than when you ran in the city. You parked next to Jungwon's car knowing that this was all because of Jake. Today he was going to run.

“Look who's here.” Sunghoon announced your arrival “Our favorite newbie.” Jake who was next to Sunghoon smiled seeing how excited you looked “I wouldn't miss this for anything.” Your gaze met Jake's “Finally I'll see the king race with my own eyes.”

“I hope I live up to your expectations, babe.” He replied and you noticed how much more casual he was that night. He wore a simple black shirt, a silver chain, and dark jeans. But he still managed to look stunning.

In all honesty, his friends looked fine too, but Jake was a different breed. He was the type of man who turned heads without even trying.

“Heyy, Y/N.” Ni-ki greeted you with a smile on his face “Glad you came.”

You gave the boy a side hug that ended up becoming closer to you than you imagined. Ni-ki was like your little brother. “Sup little bro, of course I would.”

“Sunghoon, help me with the police scanners!” Heeseung shouted from afar inside a car, adjusting a metal device. Sunghoon grunted lightly, but he knew it was necessary. “Alright.”

As the boy walked to Heeseung, you turned to Jake with a curious expression “Why did you choose this dirt road and not the asphalt?”

Ni-ki smiled and nudged you with his elbow “A race on dirt is where we have a better view of the drift.” Jake looked at you “And it’s also harder for anyone, including me.” He replied and you nodded “So that means it’ll be fun.”

“Exactly.” Ni-ki looked excited “Where do I sign?” You showed the small wad of money “Now I can bet this time.”

Jake gently took the money from your hand and smiled “Let me show you what I can do, newbie.”

☆

As you stood in line, you noticed how wide the street was. 3 cars were lined up on your right side, while Jake on your left was looking at you with a confident look that made you question what he was going to show you.

“Try not to eat too much dust, newbie.” He yelled out the window and you rolled your eyes with an airy laugh “hm, I don't know king, should I go after your crown?” Your response made Jake wet his lower lip with his tongue “You can try babe.” He smiled and turned to face the front of the street.

His profile was as hot as his green Mitsubishi Eclipse.

“Finally, racers be ready.” A girl in the middle raised the flags making the crowd scream while you felt butterflies in your stomach. “Set.”

'It's the same procedure, calm down and let everything flow.' Your thoughts tried to keep your focus in this moment of tension.

“Go!” The flags lowered and the cars sped off at a speed that raised enough dust to give anyone there a runny nose.

Sunghoon had taken the lead, but Jake soon caught up to him, passing diagonally in front of the cars, moving his wheels slightly, purposefully throwing dust onto the front windows of the cars. You quickly turned on the windshield, trying to regain your vision while closing the windows trying to not inhale any more dust.

“Son of a bitch.” Sunghoon cursed, dodging the dust and staying next to him. You were right behind, followed by Jungwon who zigzagged to make the view of the girl behind him worse.

Your mind was a mess and your senses were on edge. Jake was so much better than you expected, but you wouldn't give up.

You thought about using your NOS, but you still had a long way to go and didn't want to miss the opportunity to use it at the right time. While you were struggling, Jake was the first to use it, pressing the button near his gearshift, putting him even further ahead.

“You're not alone, bro.” Sunghoon activated his, standing side by side with Jake who continued accelerating without looking back.

Unexpectedly, Jake ended up going over a pothole that he couldn't see, causing the car to spin slightly. You activated your NOS and smiled as you felt a twist, but soon your smile fell when you saw that Jake had turned the car perfectly in 180 degrees and put it in reverse at an impressive speed. He was face to face with you while he was driving backwards as if it were completely normal.

At that moment you swore you felt time stop. As if everything was happening in slow motion, you saw Jake bite his lower lip containing a smile that was escaping, showing his white teeth and his blond locks perfectly messed up by the wind. He looked at you so deeply that for a moment you forgot you were running against him and you felt your heart race and butterflies invade your stomach, not because of the adrenaline, but because of the sight of Jake in front of you.

He was like an angel.

With a wink he looked back and activated his last NOS and distanced himself turning the car again, taking the lead leaving you speechless.

“Show off.” Sunghoon mumbled as he lost his position of 2nd place after Jungwon hit the back of his car and you activated your NOS, taking his place.

On the last turn Jake pulled off his perfect drift, an angle that had the crowd screaming wildly. You turned and accelerated, setting up your last NOS for the grand finale.

You paired your car with Jake's and activated your NOS, being able to see him through your window. He looked at you and smiled, pressing down on his accelerator. Before you could think, you saw your car lose power slightly and the front of Jake's car passed the finish line in one shot.

☆

You got out of the car seeing Jake being pampered with applauses and deafening screams. You approached laughing at the scene and he looked at you running his hand through his hair “Why are you laughing?” You smirked “Dude, I almost had you.” You pointed at him and the crowd laughed at your excitement.

“You lost and you still smile like that?” He smiled and turned to the crowd, raising his arms. “Even if it’s just for a few seconds, the real winner is the one who comes in first.” Everyone applauded and whistled, agreeing with Jake’s statement.

“You're right.” You approached Jake smiling sincerely “You won fairly, you deserved it.”

He stared at you for a brief second holding back a smile “Thanks, newbie.”

Before you could respond, the entire crowd surrounded Jake and the other contestants, wanting to celebrate his iconic victory. You turned around laughing but noticed something strange.

From afar, you saw Heeseung in Sunghoon's car make an apprehensive face, looking around as if he was afraid of something. He approached the police scanner and his eyes widened. He looked around with unusual hesitation and you felt anxiety take over you. Heeseung heard something suspicious on the radio and was taking too long to report it.

As if you could predict the future, you turned to Jake, but in a brief second Heeseung's voice came through the small radios that were in the cars. “COPS! RUN!”

The crowd crushed Jake and dispersed in a general confusion. “Shit!” You got into your car desperately, knowing that you couldn’t get caught by the police, or everything would go down the drain.

Looking back you saw everyone speeding away like crazy, but your eyes fell on Jake who was running on foot. Confusion crossed your gaze when you saw that his car was not there, and he was alone.

From afar you heard the sound of police car sirens and small red lights appearing in the dark night. You turned the car and accelerated towards Jake.

He looked to the side and saw you yell out the window “JAKE!” Concern written all over your face “GET IN!” He opened the passenger side door and jumped into your car before you started the car and drove off into the middle of the road.

Your anxiety increased significantly when you looked in the rearview mirror and saw that a police car was following you. “We need to lose them.” Jake felt his heart jump out of his chest as he watched you dodge the cars along the way.

“I know a shortcut.” He said and you nodded, waiting for his directions “Take the next alley on the right.” You turned the car around, slowing down the police, but they were still following you “Now turn left.”

You came to a crossroads with a traffic light in the middle. You looked and saw that it was yellow and would soon turn red. Jake looked at you as if you had the same idea.

“Smoke them.” He looked at you with that naughty smile that messed with your insides “Make them eat dust.” You smirked and stepped on the accelerator.

In less than a second you felt your heart stop when the light turned red and you crossed between the cars. The car jumped slightly with the speed and the unevenness of the lanes and Jake ended up hitting his temple on the window glass with the impact of the car on the ground.

The police car was left behind after accidentally hitting a car.

“WOOOOOOOOOH.” You screamed feeling the adrenaline hit your faces “LET'S GOOO BABE!” Jake started laughing at your excitement and felt more relieved before he realized his temple was bleeding “Shit, you're bleeding Jake.” The intonation of your voice conveyed your concern.

He touched his face and saw the blood on his fingertips before wiping it on the fabric of his pants. “It's fine, it's not that serious.” He sighed and sank back into the seat “No, Jake, I won't let you bleed. We need to care of that.” Jake watched you as you tried to locate the street you were on.

“Let's go to my house, then.” Jake said closing his eyes quickly and you swallowed hard “Alright, show me the way.” He nodded and you felt nervous because you knew you would be completely alone with him.

☆

Jake's house was smaller than you expected, but it was still big. The garage he worked in was right next door, in a shared building. You got out of the car feeling a wave of relief wash over you knowing you both were out of jail.

Jake opened the door waiting for you to come in “Ladies first.” He smiled and you touched his arm lightly “Thank you.”

His living room was simple but cozy. The slightly worn beige couch, the pictures of family and friends hanging on the walls, and the medium-sized TV adorned the space. “Make yourself home.” He smiled as you sat on the couch.

He picked up his phone and saw that he hadn't received any calls or messages from the boys making him worry about them. "Where's the first aid kit?" Your question took Jake's attention away from his phone and he turned to you "It's in the garage." He looked at you for a second "Come with me, there's something I want to show you."

You got up and followed Jake to the garage where he kept his cars and some materials.

On top of a cabinet Jake took out the box that had the first aid kit and everything he would need. He placed the box on top of a small table that was in the corner before turning to a car that was covered by a huge sheet and taking it out.

"First, I wanna show you this." He revealed a beautiful black impala 67 "My baby."

Your eyes widened at the sight of the beautiful car. Your fingers touched the shiny material of the hood hesitantly as you looked at every detail carefully.

"It was my father's." He blurted out "It's our greatest treasure."

You looked at Jake in confusion. "Our?"

He smiled, sliding his palm along the side of the car "Mine and my brother Sunoo's." Jake smiled, noticing the surprised expression on your face "He doesn't live here because he's in college, but we always talk."

"That's amazing. Do you ever think about racing with it?" He laughed bitterly at the question "No. It's a relic I want to keep because my father raced with it." His voice cracked a little and you noticed "He was a professional stock car racer, but unfortunately he passed away."

Your heart sank at Jake's revelation. His story was way deeper than you imagined.

"I’m sorry... I had no idea." You walked closer to Jake, lightly touching his forearm "He must have been an amazing racer."

"He was." He sighed, placing the cloth back on top of the car "I used to watch him from the stands with such pride, but one day he had a heart attack while maneuvering the car and ended up having a fatal accident."

He ran his hand through his hair before looking at you. "At the end, besides his love for cars, he left some possessions and some life lessons for me and Sunoo." You followed him to the small table and sat down next to him. "Sunoo was too young to remember everything, but I remember it like it was yesterday."

He was silent for a moment, and you opened the box, taking out a cotton ball, medicine and a band-aid. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He shook his head negatively "It's fine, I want to."

You nodded and looked into his eyes that seemed completely raw. As if there was no layer of "king" or the confident guy that made everyone attracted to him.

It was just Jake. An ordinary guy with dreams, disappointments and his own story.

"I still haven't thanked you for saving me from jail." You smiled at his comical tone "Thank you very much." He spoke sincerely, placing his hand over your knee and looking into your eyes. You held his chin and turned his face slightly to the right, looking at his injured temple. The blood had already dried on his skin.

"It was nothing." With your right hand, you held Jake's left cheek, stabilizing his face while you cleaned his skin with the cotton "It's like you always appear at the right time, like a guardian angel."

You gave him a hearty laugh as you finished cleaning his face and applied the medicine to the wound.

"I don't know if I'm a guardian angel, seeing as I almost stole your 'crown' today." He smiled mischievously and you felt your insides turn at his close proximity. His soft skin on your palm, his gaze fixed on yours and his messy hair were all too much for your heart. "I think you need to practice a little more before you try that." He said humorously and you smiled, putting the band-aid on him "Yeah, you're probably right."

Jake looked deep into your eyes while he brushed some strands of your hair away from your face. His right hand cupped the skin of your cheek making your body go completely rigid. "You're so pretty." He whispered suddenly and you felt your entire body heat up and your heart melt at his deep voice.

You swallowed hard as he glanced between your eyes and your mouth. Your stomach turned completely when he brought his face closer and you smelled his perfume. Jake swore he felt something inside him burn when you nestled lightly into his palm, your bright eyes staring so deeply into his. His mind filled with forbidden thoughts.

His warm breath fanned your face as he brought his face closer to yours, his lips almost brushing against yours.

"Jake, you there?" Sunghoon's worried voice cut through the air, making you and Jake quickly step away.

"Yes, Sunghoon." He spoke in a harsh tone "Where have you been?" You put your hand to your heart, feeling it beating extremely fast.

Sunghoon appeared in front of you, panting a little, placing his hand on his chest. "Bro, I'm so sorry." Jake looked at him clearly irritated "Sunghoon you took my car and I almost got arrested." He got up from the chair in an indignant tone "If it weren't for Y/N I would be behind bars right now." Jake pulled Sunghoon by the collar and he widened his eyes.

"Bro, Heeseung took my car and the police was right behind me, I didn't have a choice. If I stayed there I would be freaking arrested on the spot." He melancholic looked at Jake "Man I'm really sorry, I promise I'll make it up to you." Sunghoon looked desperate and Jake sighed letting his best friend out of his grip "I swear, anything you ask I'll do it."

Jake pinched the top bridge of his nose and closed his eyes briefly. "It's alright, Sunghoon. At least we're all okay." Sunghoon nodded his head and looked at you "Thanks Y/N for saving Jake's ass today."

You smiled and nodded "No problem." The boy then stopped and looked at you and Jake realizing that he probably messed up the mood. Embarrassed, Sunghoon scratched the back of his neck and smiled, "Sooo, I think I'll go to the bathroom, you guys can continue talking." He threw the car keys to Jake who caught them midair.

You stood up, your cheeks hot from the atmosphere that had set in. "It's okay, I need to go now." Jake saw how nervous you looked and approached you "Are you sure? Aren't you hungry or anything?"

You shook your head, putting your hands behind you "No, it's okay. I have to leave anyway; I have to wake up early tomorrow to take care of some things." Jake smirked seeing you smile gently "I'll walk you out."

You just nodded and said goodbye to Sunghoon, who returned the gesture.

The walk back was silent until you got into your car. "Be safe." Jake said leaning on your window. "Of course." You gave Jake a smile and he returned it "Bye, babe. " He whispered before making room for you to drive away.

You waved back at him before speeding up your car and driving away, the affectionate way he spoke echoing in your mind.

'Babe.'

“So, any progress?” Jay’s voice coming through the video call on your computer made you sigh. “Yeah, I’ve identified a suspect, he was acting strange in the last race.”

You leaned your back against the armchair you were sitting in at home.

While undercover, you and Jay have decided not to meet in person for a while, catching up with each other through regular video calls on ghost accounts so you can communicate safely.

“What about the leader? Any clues about him?” He asked and you felt your heart tighten slightly “Nothing. He hasn’t given any sign that he’s involved in this so far. Totally clean.”

Jay nodded, placing the box of noodles he was eating on his desk. “And this new suspect, what do you think?”

You turned your head to the side slightly “He certainly could have warned about the police much earlier, but he held back, as if he was thinking about something, but I could be wrong.” Jay saw how uncertain you seemed about the situation “To be sure I need more days to dig deeper.”

“Okay, but also pay close attention to this Jake and his friends. He might be involved and be good at hiding it.” Jay commented and you nodded “I really don’t think he’s involved, but I’ll check.” Jay’s eyebrows raised slightly at the way you talked about Jake, but he decided not to comment on it.

“Great. I’ll talk to you in a few days.” He ended the call and you sighed, closing the lid of your laptop.

☆

Jake was just finishing checking his engine's nitrous oxide direct drive when Jihoon walked into the shop with a grin from ear to ear.

"Hey man, it's looking nice." Jihoon looked at the engine and Jake looked at his friend with a side smile "I still need to improve some things, but it's looking good."

Jake looked at Jihoon who seemed strangely excited about something. "What's wrong?" Jake wiped his hands on a cloth he had next to him "You seem to be in a good mood today."

"Let's talk privately." Jihoon squeezed Jake's shoulder as he left the tools in the box below the car.

Jake followed Jihoon into a small room at the back, closing the door behind him.

"So? Why are you acting so mysterious?" Jake asked Jihoon, leaning against the table in the room.

Jihoon took a transparent package out of his pocket filled with small, circular pills of various colors. "I found the easiest way for us to get money."

Jake frowned at the sight of the package recognizing what it was "Jihoon, I already told you I don't want this shit around here, much less in our races."

Jihoon air laughed "The way you talk almost makes me believe you are a prude."

"I ain't no saint." Jake got up "But you know this shit is serious. It's destroying races and the drivers are getting sick. Some are dead, what are you thinking?" Jake's heart raced with the frustration of not recognizing his own friend in front of him. "Innocent people are dying because of this, Jihoon."

Jihoon felt his body tremble with anger.

"You know what Jake? You're so full of shit." Jihoon exploded and pointed his finger at Jake's face "You're not my boss to order me around like I'm your little dog." Jake pulled Jihoon by the collar "I'm not your boss, but as your friend I'm warning you." He looked right into Jihoon's eyes "If I see you around our races with this shit I'm gonna break your face."

Jihoon grabbed Jake's hands and broke free from his grip. "You are not as important as you think." he smiled mockingly "At the end of the day you are just a deluded idiot with an imaginary crown that can be stolen at any moment." He pointed at Jake "You aren't your father."

Jake punched Jihoon's face, making his back hit the white wall behind him. The boy flinched and touched the side of his lips feeling the blood drip from the bruise there.

"Don't bring my father into this." Jake was furious "If you think I race just for an imaginary crown then you don't know me at all."

"Fine." Jihoon scoffed at Jake "From now on I'll do my own stuff, you don't own me." He stared at Jake laughing bitterly "Let's see until how long you can protect your little races, King." Jihoon left the room, slamming the door as hard as he could, leaving Jake there alone.

After a few long minutes, Jake leaves the room and from afar sees you approaching in a white dress that completely messed with his mind. That air of natural beauty that you exuded was one of the things that made Jake want to ruin you with the touch of his hands.

“Did I arrive at a bad time?” You smiled with your arms behind you as if you hadn’t just heard the shocking argument between him and Jihoon and he gave a relieved smile shaking his head “At the right time, actually.” You couldn’t help but look at his arms that were exposed because of the black tank top he was wearing. How the veins on his forearm were visible, his striking shoulders and collarbone being adorned by his gold chain.

“So, what can I help you with?” He twirled a silver ring on his finger as he approached “I brought my car for you to take a look at.” With a clearing of your throat, you pointed to your pink car. “I haven’t had it serviced since the last race.”

Jake looked at the car behind you “And a little bird told me that you are the best mechanic in town.” You said in a mischievous tone, referring to what he had said when he visited you at work and Jake smiled holding your hip delicately. His hand applied perfect pressure to the spot.

“And the little bird is correct.” His eyes lingered on your figure for a few seconds before he released your hip and walked towards your car “Let’s see how your car’s engine is doing, princess.”

The way the nickname rolled off his tongue so naturally made your body fizz. The fact that you’d gotten used to always expecting something new in every interaction you had with Jake made you wonder how close you’d become without realizing it. Maybe the coexistence and conversations over the last few weeks had made you create a greater and unexpected bond with Jake, because you could no longer imagine what it was like to go a day without interacting with him.

He opened the hood of the car and leaned forward slightly to observe the machine. You stood next to him, analyzing every action and how his skin seemed even more radiant due to the orange color of the sun beginning to set. The way some blond locks fell in front of his face, adorning his drawn profile, made you a little nervous.

Unlike what you’d heard, Jake was alone in his garage. Normally, he would be with Sunghoon and Ni-ki working on something, but today he was there at your disposal. Your mind tried to remind you that you were on a mission, that it was just a job, but when you saw the way he smiled at you nothing else seemed to matter.

“You're actually really good at this.” Your eyes watched as Jake's hands meticulously analyzed your engine. “Have you ever thought about specializing?”

“In the past, I wanted to be an engineer or work at the stock car,” Jake confessed, wiping his hands with a rag he had hanging from his pocket, “but I decided to prioritize Sunoo’s dream.” You felt your heart tighten as you realized that Jake gave up things daily for the well-being of his family. “That’s how I started racing years ago, to make more money so I could pay for my brother’s college.” He laughed “But Sunoo is so smart that he got a full scholarship, so I help him with other expenses.”

Jake noticed how you looked at him with an indescribable tenderness in your eyes “Maybe after your brother graduates you can try.” Your hand instinctively brushed a strand of hair that fell in front of his eye “You have a lot of talent, it's never too late to start.”

His hands went straight to your hips, pulling you towards him. His face looked at you with such a specific desire that it was mesmerizing. “It’s okay, I already have everything I want.” He replied, staring into your doe eyes “I mean, almost everything.”

You felt butterflies in your stomach at the way he spoke, looking straight into your eyes. He could have been talking about anything, but internally you hoped he was referring to you.

“And my car?” You asked, swallowing hard “It’s great, in perfect condition.” He smiled and let go of you to close the hood of your car. “Don’t worry, your next race is guaranteed.”

You laughed and crossed your arms. “Okay, so how can I pay you for the service?” Jake’s eyes widened in surprise. He hadn’t expected that question, especially since he used to look at his friends’ cars without any financial return.

“I have an idea.” He smirked and walked past you. “Follow me.”

The fact that you simply accepted his suggestion and followed him even though you didn't know what he was going to suggest made a feeling of pride take over his body. That blind trust you had in him, as if you had no fear of approaching him, drove him crazy.

Jake opened the back door of his garage and you were faced with the backyard behind his house. There was a medium pool next to some plastic tables and chairs. You curiously saw Jake give you a mischievous smile as he took off his dark boots.

"It's so hot today." Jake's hands went straight to the belt of his pants, starting to undo it and you felt your heartbeat quicken at his actions "Let's cool off a little."

You couldn't answer. You were paralyzed by the sight of Jake taking off his shirt and then his pants, placing them on the floor near the edge of the pool and then jumping straight into the water.

"Aren't you coming?" He ran his hand through his wet hair and you shook your head, trying to keep your thoughts sane.

You just saw Jake in just his black underwear so you didn't know how to act after that.

With a few slow steps, you silently approached the edge of the pool and sat there, watching Jake swim without taking his eyes off you. You felt the cold floor beneath your legs as your feet got wet slightly. The water was a little cold, considering it was already early evening and the stars were starting to appear in the sky.

Jake swam closer to where you were, giving you a smile that he knew would knock you over "Suddenly you became so quiet." You gave him an embarrassed smile "I was just watching you." Your feet kicked lightly in the water "It looks like you're having fun."

"I am," He positioned himself between your legs and stood up, "but it would be better if you came to the water." You shook your head as he ran his hand through his perfectly messy wet blond hair. "Why not?" He asked looking at you with the most beautiful eyes in the world "I don't have a bathing suit." Jake's hands touched the skin of your legs, just above your knees, causing you to shiver instantly. He looked at you with a pleading look, as if he knew he could win you over with this.

"You don't need one." he whispered, running his hands up your legs. The angle of your vision was almost torturous, seeing how beautiful he looked beneath your eyes. His wet hair, the line of his shoulders, his sculpted mouth, and those eyes... the eyes of someone who wanted more than just a swim "Just take off your dress."

The butterflies that invaded your stomach were so many that you felt your breath catch in your throat. You couldn't say anything, you just looked at him as you felt his fingers squeezing your thighs, pulling them towards him.

He tilted his head slightly to the side as if he was waiting for your answer. You knew this was going too far, but you didn’t care. Not when Jake stood in front of you, dripping wet and with a look of desire that made your skin burn.

In an unexpected act, you decided to give in to your inner desires and your fingers traveled to the hem of your dress. Little by little you began to take off your dress, making Jake feel all his rationality disappeared as he analyzed your body. The way you took the dress over your head was torturously slow, but the view of your waist and your white lingerie made up for all the delay. You placed the dress behind you, close to Jake's clothes, so it wouldn't get wet. Jake felt his heart race as he watched you turn your face and gently step into the pool, not wanting to splash too much water.

Jake's hands gripped the edge of the pool, trapping you within the space of his arms. He was so close you couldn't think.

You started to feel conscious, seeing that you were in lingerie in a pool and consequently Jake could see your skin. For him, this was like a dream. The girl who suddenly appeared in his world and managed to mess with him, was now in front of him, half naked and with an expression that was driving him crazy.

It was impossible to resist.

Jake's right hand went towards your chin. With all the delicacy in the world he held your chin with his thumb and index finger and lifted it slightly, looking into your eyes. "Is it cold?" He asked and you shook your head. Your hair wasn't completely wet yet and he wanted to touch it so bad, to intertwine his hands in your strands and pull them back so he could get lost in your neck.

Your body collapsed as he stepped closer and his hand turned, pulling your jaw closer to his face. He stared at your little pout, the red of your cheeks and your bright eyes and there he knew how much he wanted to ruin you.

"Can I?" He asked quietly. His voice was filled with a raw feeling that made your legs feel weak "Y-Yes." You replied in a whisper and closed your eyes when you felt his soft lips touch yours.

If there was any part of you that was down to earth, it no longer existed at that moment.

Jake pulled your face tightly, enveloping your lips with his soft mouth in a slow kiss. After waiting so long for this moment, his lips moved slowly as if he wanted to enjoy every second, taking all the time in the world.

Your back hit the wall of the pool as he pressed his body against yours. His left hand went into the water, holding your waist, while his right hand grabbed the corner of your neck, pulling you towards him. You started to pant, feeling all the stimuli at once.

Your breath hitched as you felt his tongue slowly wet your lower lip, his teeth pulling at the skin there. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him towards you, making Jake groan into your mouth feeling the strands of his hair between your knuckles.

He smiled into the kiss, his right hand moving up to your jaw, his fingers on the corner of your jaw while his thumb slid between your bottom lip and your chin, pushing the spot so that you opened your mouth slightly. “Open up for me, princess.” He whispered desperately against your lips, his breath mingling with yours.

You felt your legs lose strength when you felt his tongue inside your mouth. What was once a slow kiss, became a desperate kiss as if he couldn't contain himself. Your moans were swallowed by Jake's mouth who kissed you as if he wanted to devour you.

His hands roamed your body as you pulled his face towards you. He looked even more handsome like this face-to-face. All his features were perfectly proportional.

Jake moved his right hand to the back of your hair, which was loose and slightly damp from the water in his hand. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he grabbed the strands and pulled them back with moderate force. He trailed kisses down your jaw to your exposed neck.

“Wanna taste you.” He whispered huskily into your neck as he peppered kisses across the area, his teeth sinking into your skin making you gasp.

“Jake.” You whispered his name feeling his left hand lower the strap of your white bra, his hand traveling down your torso “Yeah, say my name babe.” He said before kissing you desperately.

Personally, Jake couldn't remember the last time he felt this desperate. He wanted to have you close in a supernatural way, as if that wasn't enough. Jake wanted to touch you everywhere he could, taste you, make you come undone for him.

When his hands reached your hips, wanting to lower the fabric of your lingerie, his phone that was on top of his pants started to ring loudly. Jake stopped his movements and very reluctantly pulled away from your mouth.

You couldn't even think straight when he reached out to see who was calling him at such a crucial time. Jake looked at his own phone screen and saw that it was his brother.

He clicked his tongue and looked at you quickly. His mouth and cheeks were red and his hair was messy. He looked so hot wrecked like this.

“I'm sorry princess, it's my brother.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair “I gotta take this, please wait a bit.” He walked away and got out of the pool so he could talk to Sunoo and make you more comfortable.

You were freaking out. Internally you couldn't comprehend what had just happened. Jake was driving you crazy, that was obvious, but the fact that the desire you felt while kissing him was beyond comprehension showed that this had gone too far. What you felt was real, it wasn't pretend.

You had feelings for Jake.

From afar, Jake answered his phone, trying not to remember how completely surrendered you were to him seconds ago.

“Sunoo, you kind of called at a bad time.” He sighed and the boy laughed on the other end of the line “Aww sorry big bro, were you with someone?”

“Yes.” Jake rolled his eyes answering honestly as he watched you in the pool from afar. “Sorry for disturbing you and y/n, but I have good news.” Jake’s eyes widened when he heard your name “How do you know it’s her?” Sunoo’s cute laugh warmed Jake’s ear “It’s obvious that it’s her. The amount of times you’ve talked about her has already made me memorize her name.”

Jake gave an airy laugh “So? Why did you call?” Sunoo sounded excited “Just wanted to let you know that I'm going home for the holidays.” Jake smiled happy with the news “That's great, bro! You know how we've been missing you.” Sunoo sighed happily “Yeah, I miss you guys too. Now you can go, I don't want to take up any more of your time.” The boy felt relieved that it was nothing serious “And don't forget to take good care of my sister-in-law.”

Jake felt his cheeks flush at the comment “Okay, bye little bro.” He gave an awkward smile and said goodbye to his brother before turning to you, who had put your dress back on and was walking towards him.

“Where are you going?” Jake asked feeling like a loser as he really didn’t want you to leave.

“It was getting cold so I got out of the pool.” You smiled, feeling embarrassed. Jake saw how damp your dress was and how cold you looked. There were no towels near the pool so you probably just pulled the dress over your wet body.

“You’re not leaving wet like that.” He said seriously, but you felt your cheeks heat up at his comment “The car seat will get wet and you might get sick. Come to my room and I’ll lend you some clothes so you can dry off.”

He looked at you worriedly, completely forgetting that he was only wearing his boxers and you nodded, fixing your hair. “Okay.”

☆

The walk to Jake's room was silent, you didn't know what to say and Jake was trying to contain himself because he was happier than usual about what had happened in the pool.

He opened a drawer in his closet and pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt along with a towel so you could dry off. “The bathroom is over there.” He pointed to the suite bathroom in his room and you went there to change.

While you were changing, he put on another pair of pants while lost in thought. He sat on his own bed and scratched the back of his neck thinking about how you were there, changing, in his bathroom, inside his room. You were alone and he couldn't stop thinking about the different scenarios he would like to play out at that moment.

Jake knew that the forbidden thoughts he was having were probably much more than a simple carnal and biological desire. Ever since he met you, he felt captivated by your presence and energy, and even though he tried to hold it back, every time you were in the same room, Jake couldn't help the feelings that invaded his interior.

He touched his mouth with his fingers remembering how minutes ago you were kissing and he smiled thinking how he wanted to do that again. How he wanted to touch you again and see what new features you would reveal to him.

When you came out of his bathroom wearing his clothes, holding your dress tangled with your lingerie, he felt his whole body go rigid. “Thank you, Jake.” He stood up and looked at you while you tried not to stare at his exposed abs.

“It’s nothing.” He swallowed hard, bringing his right hand to your cheek. “Y/N, can I say something?” You looked at him and nodded “Yeah, sure.”

He debated for a moment about what to say, as if he was afraid of your reaction if he confessed what he really wanted. “Don't go.” He pulled you by the waist, looking into your eyes “Stay with me.” He whispered and you gripped your clothes tighter.

You knew what this meant and honestly were aware that if you crossed this line there was no going back. It was obvious that you were more involved with Jake than you should have been, considering that your job was just to get close enough to find out what you needed, but you were starting to get attached to Jake's presence and it was messing with your convictions.

Despite your inner moral dilemma, you couldn't think of anything else when you saw Jake in front of you looking at you like that. You couldn't say a word, so you just kissed him as your answer. He instantly pulled you making you drop your clothes on the floor.

Something about seeing you in his clothes triggered something in him so Jake grabbed you by your thighs, pulling your body up and laying you down on his bed. Your back felt Jake's soft mattress and you buried your fingers in his hair as his torso hovered over you.

Like a dream come true, he buried his face in your neck, getting lost in the scent of your perfume. His hands explored your skin beneath the sweatshirt he had given you, making your breath hitch.

“Damn, you're so pretty,” He kissed the length of your neck as he lifted your shirt slightly “so hot.” His lips slid down your abdomen as he held the corners of your hips.

You were convinced that no experience and nothing on this earth surpassed the feeling of feeling Jake's mouth drawn on your skin.

When he slightly pulled down the sweatpants you were wearing he remembered that you weren't wearing your white lingerie anymore. The fact that you weren't wearing anything underneath his clothes made Jake lose his mind.

On the other hand, you felt more self-conscious seeing how he was between your legs and debating whether he should do what was on his mind.

As if he was reading your mind, he looked at you and approached you smiling “Are you wearing something underneath this?” He smirked as he squeezed your thigh over your pants “N-No.” You replied swallowing dryly making him bite his own lip as he confirmed his suspicions.

“Shit.” He said in your ear “There's so many things I wanna do to you.” You moaned as you felt him bite your ear and kiss the skin beneath your earlobe while his right hand explored your body beneath your shirt.

His lips hovered over yours again “Then do it.” You replied making him grunt into your mouth before kissing you desperately “I will princess.” His torso brushed against your pants sending electrifying chills throughout your body.

He pulled away for a moment and got on his knees between your legs as you watched his every action. He smiled when he saw you staring at him shamelessly.

“Like what you see?” He teased you watching as you followed his hands taking off his own pants and throwing them anywhere, leaving only his black boxers “Yeah.” You whispered and he felt his rationality break with your answer “Yeah?” The sensual tone of his voice made you needy. He licked your lower lip as he grabbed the hem of your pants to take them off “Babe, lift your hips for me.” You obeyed his command as he spoke over your lips “I want to see you.”

Jake loved how you obeyed him instantly. He wanted to know how far you would go to do whatever he asked, especially when his mind had so many ideas of what to do.

After taking off his pants he went straight to your shirt to take it off as well. “You're gorgeous.” He said seeing how raw and naked you were just for him. After taking off your shirt you ran your hand down Jake’s chest to his abdomen feeling his sculpted body as he took off his boxers.

“Jake, I want you.” You begged, pulling his torso towards you with your legs and he smiled into your neck, marking the spot. You could smell the chlorine from the pool on Jake as he trailed kisses down your entire body until he reached your legs.

“I'll give you what you want, babe.” You shivered as he responded by trailing kisses up your inner thigh.

With every touch from Jake, your body burned as if it were on fire. It was irresistible and effervescent how good he could make you feel. His touch was good, his breath in your skin was good, his grunts in your ear were good, his body and your turning into one was good. Everything about him was good.

Having Jake was just too good.

☆

Jake and you were hugging each other as he stroked your hair and you looked at his face thinking how perfect he looked there under the moonlight invading his room.

“You tired?” You asked and he smiled, closing his eyes as you caressed his cheekbone with your fingers. “A little bit.” He confessed, snuggling closer to you.

He pulled you by the waist and gave you a quick peck on the lips. “I heard people are calling you bullet now.” You noticed the pleased tone in Jake’s voice “Because you're fast like a bullet.” He teased and you felt embarrassed by the new nickname “They're exaggerating.” Jake looked in your eyes “Don't need to be humble with me, I know you're good.” You nodded feeling an inexplicable happiness for having your skill recognized by a racer as talented as Jake “Congrats on updating from newbie to bullet.”

“Thank you, king.” You whispered and he smiled, running the back of his hand across your cheek “You're welcome, babe.”

This intimacy you had with Jake was so natural. As if you had always been like this, the environment was comfortable and being with him wasn't difficult. It was perfectly natural.

“You know, Sunoo called me to tell me he's coming home for the holidays.” You smiled thinking about the possibility of finally meeting Jake's younger brother “I want you to meet him.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you were afraid Jake would feel it. “Sure, I can’t wait to meet him.”

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.” You watched as Jake spoke of Sunoo with admiration and fondness “He’s probably taller and smarter than me now.” Jake chuckled warmly.

“You must miss him a lot, huh?” Jake thought for a second, remembering all the happy memories he had with his brother “Yeah, I do.” He laughed through his nose “Sunoo is so much fun, he always brightens up the atmosphere with his contagious joy.”

“He seems like an amazing person.” Jake smiled at your comment “He is.” You giggled feeling Jake's nose tickle your neck “I think it's going to be good for him to come.”

You sighed thinking about how you wanted this peaceful and joyful environment to last longer. “I think so too.”

“I was thinking about having a barbecue.” He looked at you, stroking your back “What do you think? Do you like barbecue?”

“I love it.” You smiled as he placed a kiss on your cheek and then on your lips “Barbecue it is then.” He smiled and hugged you as you snuggled into him letting the sleepiness take over both of you.

The sun was shining brightly in the sky and the day was beautiful as everyone gathered at Jake's house for the barbecue he had organized for Sunoo's arrival. Sunoo had arrived a day earlier and was excited about the barbecue, happy that he would see the friends he missed so much and finally meet you after hearing about you.

Jake, with a satisfied expression, was watching as you and Sunoo talked while taking the rice and potatoes to the table in the backyard of his house. Ni-ki and Jungwon were at the grill arguing about how the meat should be cooked, whether it was well done or rare.

He smiled, especially seeing how you were even more radiant than usual.

“I thought you didn't mess up with drivers.” Sunghoon spoke next to him in a sarcastic tone and Jake gave him an airy laugh “I'm not messing with her.” He confessed and Sunghoon widened his eyes “Wait, so that means...” He followed Jake's line of sight who didn't take his eyes off you “Drop it Sunghoon, I just want to relax and eat some barbecue.” Jake replied and Sunghoon put his arm around his shoulders “But I want to hear about this bro.”

“He's in love, Sunghoon.” Heeseung said taking his drink approaching the two friends “It's obvious.” Jake gave Heeseung a quick glance before turning his attention back to you “She's special, that's all.” Jake said smiling with a look of tenderness when he saw how cute you were arranging things on the table “Damn bro, you're really damn bad.” Sunghoon retorted bumping Heeseung's fist.

“Maybe I am.” Jake spoke softly, admitting what he already knew was true. The boys looked at each other smiling at Jake’s confession, hugging him sideways as they walked towards the table.

“C'mon guys, let's eat!” Sunoo shouted, calling everyone to the table and everyone sat down. Jake sat next to you, making you give him a sweet smile that made Ni-ki roll his eyes. “Guys, get a room!”

“Shut up Ni-ki!” Jungwon nudged him with his elbow making Ni-ki smile “Alright, let's all calm down.” Sunoo said and looked at everyone laughing “Well, since it's your first time here at our barbecue, I think you should say grace.” Jake looked at you and you smiled “Okay.”

You took a deep breath, looking at everyone before you started speaking. “I want to say that I'm grateful to have met you all and that I'm happy that we're here together, well and healthy.” Your heart sank when you saw how sweetly Jake looked at you “I'm really grateful for all of you.” He squeezed your thigh under the table and smiled while you felt your heart explode inside your chest.

“The newbie knows how to touch our hearts.” Sunghoon joked and Ni-ki wiped an imaginary tear from his eye “Let's eat!!” Jungwon said excitedly and started serving himself.

“I'm also grateful to have met you.” Your heart raced as Jake's whisper warmed your ear “That's good to know.” You smiled and he held himself back from kissing you right there in front of everyone. He would definitely steal this kiss later.

As everyone ate and laughed, you took in the surroundings. The boys' laughter and jokes, Sunghoon teasing Jake, Ni-ki and Jungwon talking about something random, and Sunoo passing the soda to Heeseung. The pleasant atmosphere and the feeling of familiarity were overwhelming. It wasn't just a gathering of friends, they were family.

You felt like you were home.

And it broke your heart, because you knew this wasn't forever.

☆

Jake had pulled you into his room at the first opportunity that arose. With the excuse that you both needed to 'rest' from lunch, he held your hand and led you to the familiar place you had been before.

And with the excuse that he had sweated too much in the heat of the sun, he called you to take a shower and so you ended up with your back glued to the cold tiles of his bathroom while he attacked your neck. Your knuckles were in the middle of Jake's dark hair.

He took off his shirt and grabbed your body, pulling you onto his lap before placing you on the bathroom counter. “I love when you show me your pretty legs.” He whispered, squeezing the skin of your thighs. You were wearing a blue summer dress that showed off your body perfectly and contrasted with the color of your skin, which drove Jake crazy. “Do you like it?” You asked softly against Jake’s mouth. “I love it.” He whispered before he buried his long, beautiful fingers in your loose hair.

“That's good because I chose it just for you.” The way you spoke while looking at Jake with so much desire made him crazy to ruin you right there and then. “Yeah?” His voice seemed to be an octave lower than normal “Then take it off for me.” The way he said it with his sexy voice as he attacked your neck gave you goosebumps. The slightly imperative tone along with his desperation to have you heated up your entire body.

He helped you take off your dress and all your clothes while he took off his pants. His hands gripped every corner of your body as if he needed it to live.

You tried to contain your moan as Jake smashed his lips into you again. The kiss was messy and desperate, which reflected Jake's mental state at that moment. Your nails dug into Jake's back and neck, making him groan against your mouth.

He grabbed you by the hips as you crossed your legs around his torso holding him. As he carried you to the bathroom stall you attacked Jake's neck who bit his own mouth to avoid making any noise.

You let go of Jake and stood up again when Jake pinned you to the shower wall and turned on the shower, soaking you both. Before you could think of anything, Jake grabbed your cheeks, bringing your face close to his and deepening the kiss forcefully.

The mixture of your breaths and your warm bodies with the water falling from the shower was addictive. Jake was so turned on he wanted to taste every part of your body if he could. He wanted to bend you over and touch you until you're crying and begging for him to do something.

As Jake's hands roamed the length of your body, he brought his kisses to your neck marking the spot "Maybe I should mark you up so everyone can see you're mine.” You felt your breath hitch and your blood pressure rise as you felt his tongue run over the length of your neck “You taste so good.” He whispered before sucking on your bottom lip and kissing you again.

No matter how much you tried to hold on, you moaned with a small whimper causing Jake to pull away and put his hand over your mouth.

“You need to be quiet, love.” He whispered in your ear as he covered your mouth “Or else they we'll hear us.” You nodded, feeling your legs tremble as Jake pressed his body against yours.

You held onto his biceps as you tried to calm down, but it was impossible seeing how Jake's wet hair was pulled back after he ran his hand through his dark locks. It was an irresistible sight. "You're making it hard for me to be quiet, Jake." You whispered and swallowed hard seeing how he smiled and looked at you. Jake's gaze penetrated every last part of your dermis.

“I'll shut your pretty mouth then.” Your eyes rolled back when you felt his fingers touch you and he stuck his tongue inside your mouth, swallowing all your moans.

In an impulse he picked you up again and pressed you against the wall without breaking the kiss. His fingers sank into your skin trying to keep you in place.

You tried to feel him a bit more, but Jake wouldn't let you as he kissed you in a slow, torturous rhythm. When you pulled away for air you looked at him "Please, Jake." You begged and he smiled “Please what?” He teased “Say it with your words.”

His head was a mess and his entire body was throbbing with desire “Want to feel you,” you whispered “please, love.” Jake felt his chest swell with adoration and pride when he saw how you were surrendered to the point of calling him love, something you hadn’t done before.

“Since you asked nicely.” He whispered before accomplishing what you wanted most.

☆

After sleeping the whole afternoon to recover your energies, you and Jake went down to have dinner with Sunoo.

Sunoo had prepared a lasagna so you could enjoy the peaceful evening and chat a little. “So Y/N, I heard you’re a great racer.” Sunoo smiled excitedly as he chewed his food.

“Well, I try.” You laughed as Jake had fun watching his little brother interact with you “She’s good, she beat Ni-Ki and Jungwon in her first race.” Jake praised you and you felt a wave of happiness invade your chest.

“You really are perfect for my brother then.” He said in a comical tone and you felt your cheeks heat up as Jake smiled, silently agreeing with his brother’s comment “I would love to see you race, but unfortunately I have to go back after this holiday because of my university classes.”

“I understand…” You took a sip of the juice in your glass “Do you race too?” Sunoo laughed and waved his hand in the air in denial “God, no. Not like the boys.” He sighed “I always preferred the business and organization part of our car workshop. That's one of the reasons why I'm at the business course in university.”

You were impressed by Sunoo. He definitely had the face of someone who suited the field he chose. “Sunoo was the best manager of our finances, but now that he’s in college I take care of everything.” Jake said, looking at you tenderly “It seems like a difficult task.”

“It’s a little, but I can handle it.” Jake said confidently making you laugh at the table “So this is the confidence of the king of racing?” You teased Jake by asking Sunoo who laughed and nodded “That’s because you didn’t see what he was like when we were younger.”

“Hey! No exposing our cringe memories to my girl.” Jake said placing his hand on your thigh making your heart clench. 'my girl.'

“I’ll tell you everything later.” Sunoo whispered to you as if Jake couldn’t see him “I’m looking forward to this moment.”

“Hey! I can hear you guys.” Jake smiled as he watched you and Sunoo enjoy his comedic tone.

Sunoo, who saw how you and Jake looked at each other, side smiled seeing how happy Jake seemed. Not that Jake wasn't happy, but now he had a different glow and he knew it was because of you. After dinner you helped wash the dishes and then went upstairs to Jake's room to wait for him while he and Sunoo put away the last remaining utensils.

“You know, it’s been a while since I've seen you smile like that.” Sunoo said to Jake as he finished putting the silverware away in the drawer.

Jake smiled and looked at his brother as he finished taking out the trash from the kitchen. “Really? I didn't know that.”

“It’s because of Y/N.” Sunoo looked mischievously to Jake “I like her, so please take care of her.”

“Shouldn't you be saying this to her?” Jake laughing crossing his arms in front of his chest “I'm your brother, after all.”

Sunoo giggled and closed the cabinet drawer “It's because I've known my brother long enough.” He said sarcastically and Jake ruffled his brother's hair “Don't worry, I'm taking good care of her.” Jake finished his kitchen chores and waited for Sunoo at the door “She's special.”

“Good.” Sunoo gave a funny wink before turning off the kitchen light and heading to his room. “So, I'll trust my cute sister-in-law to you.”

“Alright.” Jake just smiled and went up to his room, excited to spend another night with you.

You had arrived at the place where another race would take place while looking for Jake who said he was near the cars at the starting line.

The night was perfect until you bumped into Jihoon in the middle of the street. You were shocked by his nerve to show up for the race after the fight he had with Jake, but this only confirmed your suspicions that he was the one you were really looking for all this time and not Heeseung.

“Look who’s here.” He said mockingly, looking you up and down. “I should say the same.” You replied, shocked by the boy’s change in behavior.

He approached with his hands in his pockets “Where does this attitude come from?” he scoffed “Why are you so mad?” You rolled your eyes and walked out of Jihoon’s field of vision, bumping your shoulder into his arm “I don’t have time for this.”

“Wait a minute.” He pulled you by the arm and turned you to face him. “It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, let’s catch up.” You looked at him suspiciously. “What do you want to talk about? We’re not friends.” He smiled and touched your shoulder “We can be, with benefits too if you want.” You took his hand off your shoulder and walked away. “You’re crazy.”

It was shocking how that shy boy persona was shattered with the revelation of who he really was.

“Don’t play too hard to get, I know I can teach you a few things, newbie.” You frowned “No thanks, I’m fine.” Before he could touch you again Jake arrived on the scene pulling you behind him.

“Oh, now I understand.” He gave you a harsh laugh “You’re just another one in Jake’s pants.” You grabbed Jake who was clearly irritated and almost about to punch him again “Jihoon, get the hell out of here.” He spoke through his teeth and the boy laughed “Sure king, I’m leaving.” He said sarcastically before turning to you “When you get tired of him, you can always call me.” He winked at you and you rolled your eyes in disgust “As if! cretin...”

Jake pulled you by the hand away from the crowd and looked at you with a worried look “Are you okay?” He held your face between his hands and you nodded “Yeah, it’s okay.” He sighed and you hugged him suddenly feeling welcomed by his presence “Come on, forget about it and let’s go watch the race.”

“I’m not in the mood to watch the race anymore.” He stroked your hair “So, what do you want to do?” You asked and he smirked “I have an idea.”

You looked at him curiously, knowing that Jake always came up with the craziest ideas.

“Let's take a ride.”

☆

Being in the passenger seat while Jake drove was a unique feeling. While he focused on the road, his hand was gripping your thigh, sliding over your soft skin. The metal rings on his hand sent goosebumps across your skin. “Where are we going?” You asked, seeing how calmly he smiled.

“A place I want you to see.” He turned and stared at you as he sped the car in a straight line. “You might wanna keep your eyes on the road, babe.” You laughed seeing how he kept looking at you with a smirk.

“What? You think we're gonna crash?” He asked as he still accelerated the car before stopping at a traffic light.

“I don’t know. I guess I trust your driving skills, though.” He laughed at your response squeezing your thigh “The secret's not about having the best car, it's how you drive it.” His focus returned to the road making you see his profile, noticing Jake's dark hair blowing in the wind coming from the window.

That feeling of adrenaline and confidence that came every time you were with Jake was comforting. You knew he was your complete opposite, but maybe that was what drew you to him. Like you were two sides of the same coin, or magnets with different polarities that couldn't be separated.

Likewise, Jake knew he felt happy every time you were together. It was like you were the trigger that activated his dopamine. An addiction he could never get enough of.

“We’re here.” He stopped at a pier. There was practically no one else there at this time of day, but through the window you could see the dark water rocking gently with boats in the background.

“Wow, how beautiful.” You said, observing the landscape, feeling the cold breeze give you goosebumps a little.

“I know.” He sighed, looking at you “I come here when I want to be alone and relax.”

You looked at each other, feeling sparks fly instantly. Jake's hand was still on your thigh, moving it up under your skirt.

“I love it when you wear skirts. It reminds me of the day we first met.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear. Your breathing quickened as you stared into his dark orbs. “You remember what I was wearing when we met?” You couldn’t help the silly smile that appeared on your face.

“How could I forget?” He smiled and fit his face into your neck, feeling your sweet scent “You were so beautiful. It was difficult to ignore.” He pressed his lips to the corner of your neck in a delicate way, as if he was just testing the waters.

“Maybe you fell in love at first sight.” You playfully touched his hair and he smiled against your skin “Maybe I did.” His confession made you pull his face to yours. He kissed you tenderly and you couldn’t help but want to climb on top of him.

You pushed him back and crawled lightly until you climbed onto his lap. His eyes widened in surprise, but he soon smiled, adjusting you in the best position.

As you looked down at him you couldn't help but check him out. How he stood so close and yet at the perfect distance to admire him. His teasing expression turned you on completely. “Your lips are so pretty.” You ran your thumb over his lips before giving him a long kiss “Wanna kiss them all the time.” You whispered, making Jake’s heart beat wildly. “Yours are pretty too.” He smiled looking at your mouth.

You didn't know what came over you. Maybe Jake's presence brought out all your primal desires.

Your fingers sank into Jake's dark hair through his bangs. “This hair color is nice.” You felt how soft his hair was and smiled. The contrast of his dark hair with his lightly tanned skin from the sun made Jake even more attractive.

His hands went to your waist “It’s my natural color.” His thumbs made circles on your waist underneath the fabric “Do you like it?” You nodded, threading your fingers through his locks and running them down to the nape of his neck “Yes, it suits you.”

He smiled and pulled you closer “I'm just going to miss the blond a little because it reminds me of when I first met you.” You confessed holding his cheeks, your thumbs caressing his cheekbones.

He smiled looking at you. “Yeah?” He loves the vision of you on top of him, because in his mind you belong there. “Tell me love, what do you want?” He asked, leaning into your neck and moving his hands down to your thighs. The smell of his perfume invading and hypnotizing your senses.

Jake loves the feeling of the soft skin of your thighs between his fingers.

You felt butterflies in your stomach at Jake's tone. It was embarrassing how you melted so easily at his words, but his delicious voice was irresistible.

Your body twitched slightly feeling him kiss your collarbone making Jake squeeze your thighs. “You.” You replied nervously and he gave you a quick kiss before smiling over your mouth “Just that?” You nodded feeling a fire rise through your body.

Even though you didn't fully understand his question, at that moment Jake would give you whatever you wanted, material or not, but your sincerity about the moment made him sure that he would do everything in his power to satisfy you and see you happy.

“Wanna know what I want?” He said with a ragged breath. His lips brushed over yours as his warm breath mingled with yours. “I want to touch you so bad.” He didn’t wait for your answer and attacked you with desire.

Kissing Jake was like feeling your body being elevated to a higher level of human understanding. His soft lips met yours like a perfectly rehearsed dance. As if they were the perfect fit for yours.

Jake pressed your body against his and you buried your fingers in the strands near the nape of his neck, making him groan into your mouth. The way he sucked on your bottom lip was so intoxicating that it made you want to attack every inch of his skin.

Giving in to your deep desires, you trailed your mouth down Jake's marked jaw, kissing along the way until you reached his neck. He moaned as you pulled his head back so you could kiss the length of his throat.

Jake pulled your face close and met your lips hungrily. You felt his tongue deepen the kiss desperately while his right hand under your shirt passed over your belly and your bra pressed against the skin there, sending a shiver down your spine.

You reached down to the hem of his shirt to take it off and he helped you, throwing the shirt onto the passenger seat as you admired his abs.

Your fingers wandered over his belt and he smirked “Didn't know you were this needy.” He licked his bottom lip with an expectant look at you making your cheeks heat up “It's your fault, you do this to me.” Your hands began to undo his belt quickly and he swore it was the hottest sight he could ever have.

Jake felt that his pants were getting uncomfortable and decided to pull up your shirt while you tried to unzip him. You stopped so he could take off your shirt and then you went back to kissing him.

His hands moved up your back to your shoulders. He explored your body as if it were the first time and you loved it. You loved how he touched you, how he knew exactly what to do, how the chemistry between your bodies was perfect.

“Wait, are we really going to do this here?” As a shot of rationality you pulled back slightly and felt self-conscious as you saw that you were in a place where someone could appear. Jake who was marking the skin below your collarbone as he lowered the straps of your bra stopped for a moment to look at you.

“Jake, what if someone sees us?” You whispered, looking at the scenery around you that was completely deserted. “No one will see us, love, it’s empty here.” Jake rolled up the car windows, which were tinted to reassure you “And the windows are tinted.”

Your heart was racing at the thought of doing something as forbidden as this. “Love, please.” He whimpered hoarsely “I need you.” His hands pulled your hips forward in a desperate attempt to feel you.

You gasped, feeling the friction of your body against his, and slowed down your movement, teasing Jake. This begging version of him was something you liked more than you expected.

He who always took charge and was more dominant with you was now whimpering in need of your touch “Patience.” You whispered and Jake moaned like a cry stuck in his throat when you lowered his zipper and he felt your fingers hover over the spot.

He wanted more than ever to get rid of the piece of clothing, especially when you moved slowly and never enough for what he wanted most.

“Please, I'm going crazy.” He spoke in your ear, holding your hips and pressing your weight hard onto his lap. Feeling satisfied with Jake’s state and feeling that you had already reached your own limit, you decided to give in to what you both wanted.

So, on that beautiful night on the deserted pier, the sounds of the light waves, their uneven breathing and Jake's name being said repeatedly were the only things that could be heard there inside Jake's car.

After weeks of not seeing Jay, you drove many miles to a police base that was in a neighboring town. You knew this meant it was time for the final report and that you would have to move soon.

“I think we should move fast.” Jay paced impatiently back and forth “You’ve already had enough evidence that Jihoon is the guy we’re looking for.”

“We can’t do that. You know that without physical evidence and witnesses he would be released and we wouldn’t be able to track the boss.” You argued and Jay sighed.

“We have witnesses: all his friends who race.” He put his hands in his pockets “We can take advantage of the moment and catch them too for the illegal races we never managed to get.”

“No.” You replied and Jay looked at you in surprise “No? What do you mean by that?”

“They don’t know anything, they’re just kids who race around every now and then and live their lives.” Jay couldn’t believe you were defending the boys.

“Right, but the leader knows. Jake knows Jihoon is involved, so he has a stake in not reporting him.” Jay stood in front of you and you scoffed.

“As if he would call the police without proof and risk being arrested. Let’s be smart Jay.”

Jay was irritated by the way you defended Jake. “You know what? I don’t know why you’re defending him. At the end of the day, he’s still a criminal, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Jay, you talk like he’s a horrible criminal who committed heinous crimes, but he’s just a guy who races illegally and that’s just a misdemeanor, it’s not the end of the world!” You glared at Jay “Jake isn’t like Jihoon.”

Jay's eyes widened and he pointed at you. “'Just' a misdemeanor? Since when you became so liberal about committing illegal acts?”

You sighed in frustration “Jay you know very well that it’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He stepped closer “Because I think you’re actually too attached to those boys.” You looked away, feeling your heart sink knowing it was true “Do you think I don’t know what you’ve been doing? Going to barbecues and going to Jake’s house when there’s no need at all?”

You frowned and stared at Jay in disbelief.

"You've been tracking me?” You scoffed “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I'm serious.” He spoke seriously looking at you “It's clear that ever since you started to spend time with him you’ve changed.” You felt your eyes water slightly “Y/N, your judgement is clouded!” He sighed “And I have no other option but to take you off the case.”

“Jay please don’t do this.” You walked over and held your friend’s hand “You know we’re so close to solving this case, don’t push me away now.”

“Y/N, look into my eyes right now and tell me you don’t have feelings for Jake.” He looked at you and you looked away feeling your heart tighten “You know I can’t do that.”

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Y/N, you need to stay out of this case.”

“Wait!” Jay looked at you, seeing your desperation “Hear me out, please Jay.”

He sighed and sat down on the chair he had in the room “Okay, I'm hearing you.”

“What if I can convince him to cooperate and help us with the operation?” You begged your friend “They can be free, but we get Jihoon and the entire information network.”

Jay stopped and thought for a bit. It would be interesting for both sides and would make it easier to catch Jihoon.

“It might work.” He looked at you with concern in his eyes. “But you know what that means, don’t you?”

You sat next to Jay and looked at the ceiling, feeling the melancholy hit you with everything. “I know.”

He stood up and touched your shoulder “I’m sorry Y/N, but we need to do what’s right.”

“I know.” It was the last thing you said before sinking into absurd sadness.

You knew you would have to reveal everything to Jake and this would all come to an end and you didn't want to accept that fact.

☆

Jake was lying on top of you while you stroked his hair. He hugged your waist while you looked at the ceiling thinking about how to talk to him.

He had come to your apartment before, but today in particular would be a difficult day. You would reveal your identity and ask for Jake's cooperation, even though you knew it would destroy the relationship you had.

Of course, you hadn't planned on getting involved with Jake on this level of depth, but you couldn't help it. Feelings aren't easily controlled, and to be honest, you didn't want to avoid it.

You wanted to get involved with Jake and you wanted to go all the way, even knowing the painful consequences that it would bring. But when you weighed it up, the benefits and moments of happiness with him were much better than any heartbreak you would have to accept.

If suffering was inevitable then at least you experienced that love until the very last moment.

You sighed and Jake raised his head seeing your worried expression. “What is it babe? Is something worrying you?” He looked at you intently and you gave a weak smile holding his cheek in your hand “Just thinking about some things.”

He nodded and lifted himself up a little so he could kiss your neck “What things?” You hummed feeling his lips travel from your neck to your lips “Tell me what is worrying you so I can help you.” Your heart sank as you heard Jake “I don’t like seeing you this way.”

You smiled and kissed him again knowing it would be a goodbye. You pulled his face to yours and he smiled into the kiss, his hands roaming around your waist.

You hugged him aggressively, smelling his cologne one last time. Your fingers intertwined in his hair, feeling its softness.

“Damn babe.” He whispered breathlessly as he kissed your collarbone. Your legs rose slightly before wrapping around his torso and you pushed him aside, straddling him.

You looked at him with a melancholic look that Jake noticed as he caressed your face “Why are you looking at me like that?” His hand went to the side of your neck and you bent down to kiss him.

The feeling of being in Jake's arms was unique and you didn't want to forget it. Jake deepened the kiss and you pulled away trying to catch your breath, feeling your heart tighten.

“Sorry, I needed to breathe.” You gave a light smile and Jake saw how you lowered your head dejectedly “What’s going on babe? You’re acting weird.”

You looked at Jake once more to remember the details of his face. His furrowed eyebrows, his nose, his drawn mouth. His messy dark hair, his collarbone marked by your mouth along with the silver necklace you remembered so much.

“We need to talk.” You sighed and he sat on the bed, leaning his back against the headboard “What’s going on? Tell me.” He looked at you worriedly and you tried to find the right words.

“I know what Jihoon is doing.” Jake was surprised by what you said “We need to do something to stop this.” He gave you a confused and worried look. “Babe, what do you mean? Jihoon did something to you? Did he threaten you with something?”

You sighed, shaking your head. “No, he doesn’t know that I know that.” He took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair “So that’s what was worrying you.” You nodded and he pulled your face to give you a quick peck “Jake, we need to end this.” He pulled away, hearing your anxious tone of voice.

“What’s wrong? You’re scaring me babe.” He looked at you confused as you tried to work up the courage to confess everything.

You looked into Jake's eyes and gave one last smile, holding his face in your hands and letting go before revealing the whole truth.

“Jake, I'm a cop.” You said in a rush and he laughed “Babe, c'mon, that's not funny.” He looked at you hopefully as if you were going to say it was all a bad joke, but you looked away as you felt your eyes fill with tears.

“It’s true. I’m an undercover cop.” You whispered, getting up from the bed and Jake’s eyes widened.

At that exact moment Jake felt his heart break into several pieces.

“That’s a lie. Please tell me you’re joking.” Jake’s voice began to crack.

“It’s true.” You looked at him with tears threatening to fall from your eyes “I needed to find out who was the infiltrated drug dealer at the races and I found out it was Jihoon.”

Jake stood up feeling an absurd pain invade his chest. He felt betrayed, as if everything had been a big lie. “You lied to me? All this time?” He gave a sarcastic laugh, feeling his eyes water “Everything we lived was a lie?”

You turned to him, looking at him desperately “Jake, of course not.” You approached him feeling you heart tear at Jake's pained expression “Everything I said, what we lived, what I feel for you is real.” Jake looked at you, letting the tears fall “Please, believe me.”

He pulled away from you, putting on his shirt. “How do you expect me to believe you?” He was looking for his pants, but he was disoriented so he sat on the bed, putting his head in his hands. “You really fooled me…” He bitter smiled as he cried “I really thought everything you said was true.”

He looked at you with a contorted expression that broke everything you had inside “Was it fun playing with me? Was it funny deceiving me all this time?” You shook your head vehemently and he felt his throat close up “Is Y/N even your real name ? I don't know anymore.”

“It wasn’t a joke, it was all true.” Your chest tightened with all the pain you felt “I really didn’t mean to hurt you.” He shook his head. “No, it’s too late.”

“Jake I’m so sorry, but please believe me when I say that everything I feel for you is real.” You took his hand and placed it over your heart but he pulled away and stood up “I don’t believe you anymore, I can’t do it.” He looked away and you let the tears fall “Whatever we had is over now.”

“I understand that you don’t believe me, but you need to listen to me.” He looked at you in disbelief “I need your help to save you and our friends.”

He got irritated when he saw how you spoke “Save me? Our friends? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Jake, the police are after Jihoon. If you don’t help, everyone will go down with him, including you.” You stood in front of him “I need your help to arrest Jihoon and free the boys, please.”

“I’m sorry, but how do you expect me to believe you when you’re a liar?” His words were harsh and you felt your heart being pierced with each word spoken.

“It’s okay if you don’t believe me, but please think about the boys. They didn’t do anything and they’re in danger because of Jihoon.”

Jake felt his chest get ripped every time you opened your mouth. He didn't know he could suffer this much.

“Me and the boys have nothing to do with this. This is your problem, why don't you solve it?” He looked at you and you got angry “I’m trying!” You ran your hand through your hair “You’re not listening to me.” He saw your frustration “What do you want from me?”

“Jake, if you don’t help us, they’ll try to arrest Jihoon in some race and if the boys or anyone else is there, they’ll all going down.” You said seriously “Please help us, for them.” He looked at you and you gathered your courage before saying one last time “Please, even if you don’t believe me, I really don’t want to see you arrested.”

Jake looked at you, feeling his insides churn. His stomach hurt with the weight of the anxiety he felt. “Fine. I'll help you.” He grabbed his things before looking at you one last time “But just so you know,” You looked at him “After all of this is over, I don't want to see you ever again.”

You nodded, feeling your tears wet your face “Okay, I understand.” You spoke with a choked voice and Jake looked at you one last time with tears in his eyes before leaving and slamming the door to your apartment without saying a single word.

Your body collapsed to the floor and you brought your hands to your face.

Knowing that you had done your duty but that you’d unfortunately lost the love of your life, you allowed yourself to cry yourself to sleep.

☆

After a few days, the three of you were inside a disguised and armored car outside the meeting place that Jake had managed to find out where Jihoon would be.

After revealing your identity to Jake, everything had changed. You no longer saw him or the boys, making up some lame excuses to justify your absence.

Inside you felt the worst pain you could ever feel. It was as if everything good that had happened to you had been an illusion. A good joke from the universe.

Jay picked you up at your apartment and when you got into the car seeing that Jake was already there you felt your heart stop.

The moment your eyes met, you quickly realized how much you missed Jake. You missed his eyes, your hugs, the tender kisses he gave you when you asked for them. How his jokes were funnier when you were alone. You missed his hair between your fingers, his voice in your ear.

You missed him.

Even if you succeeded in your mission, you didn't know how you would move on with your life. Jake had become so special that you didn't want to accept a reality without him by your side.

He was in front of you, beautiful as ever and you couldn't do anything about it.

While you wondered if he would ever forgive you, he stared at the landscape through the glass, not wanting to make eye contact.

“So, let’s review the plan.” Jay breaked the silence and Jake looked at him dejectedly “Your excitement touches me.” Jay ironically said and Jake scoffed.

“Sorry if I'm not in the brightest mood. I just discovered my girlfriend is an undercover cop and that one of my old friends actually hates me and I need to make him go to prison in order to save my friends.” Jake commented and your heart sank when you heard the word 'girlfriend' and Jay looked at you through the corner of his eye without saying anything “So yeah, sorry I'm not very excited about that.”

“It's going to be over soon, don't worry.” Jay replied and Jake sighed as you remained looking at him.

“Jake, please.” You tried to speak but he interrupted you looking at Jay “Let's just get this over with.”

Jay nodded and went on to explain the plan again.

It was simple, Jake would meet with Jihoon, and talk to him until the moment he would reveal the prohibited merchandise and you would be in the ideal blind spot to arrest him.

But as simple as it was, you wanted to enjoy these last moments with Jake.

“You can go first, he's approaching the location.” Jay said to Jake who nodded and got out of the car and walked normally to the spot he was supposed to be.

“You know, you look awful.” Jay whispered to you, who looked at him and gave a sarcastic smile. “Yeah, I know.” He laughed and hugged you from the side “You know, now that I met him, I kinda get you.” He finished loading his gun and looked at you “He's actually very charming. Sorry I judged you.”

“It's okay Jay, let's just forget about this.” You commented feeling your heart tighten “Okay, sorry. You know I care about you, right?” He said affectionately and you smiled nodding “I know.” You bumped your best friend's fist, like always.

☆

You were at a strategic point on Jake's left side. Your body was crouched down when Jihoon approached, talking to Jake from a distance. Jay was on the other side, a little further back, anxiously waiting for Jihoon to give any signal so he could jump straight towards him and arrest him.

You quickly glanced at Jake who looked normal, as always. That calm expression you remember seeing the moment you first saw him.

Everything about him was captivating and a part of you wished things were different. If you had met under different circumstances, at different times, maybe it would have worked out.

Before you could continue your thoughts, you noticed a strange shift in the conversation and saw that Jihoon took a gun out of his pants and pointed it at Jake.

You felt your heart race with adrenaline and turned to Jake who looked shocked.

“Jihoon?!” Jake said feeling his body stiffen in fear “What the hell are you doing?”

Jihoon smirked “Sorry man, it's nothing personal, it's just something I should've done a long time ago.” Jake widened his eyes “I thought we were friends!” He said angrily and Jihoon rolled his eyes “Things have changed.” He clicked his tongue “You know that.”

“It was good knowing you, king.” He pulled the safety back on the gun and in a rush you ran out of hiding and jumped over Jake as Jihoon pulled the trigger.

“NO!” Jake yelled as he saw you fall in front of him, your shoulder bleeding. Jay came from behind and tackled Jihoon, handcuffing him. “You bastard!! I'll make sure you rot in prison!” Jay screamed while you started to get dizzy.

“Y/N! Oh my God you're bleeding.” Jake knelt down beside you, desperate and with tears in his eyes. “Are you okay?” You asked Jake, feeling your forehead break out in a cold sweat. Okay, getting shot wasn't that cool.

“How can you ask me that? You just got shot!” He said in a choked voice holding your face with his shaking hands.

Jihoon was struggling behind you, but Jay had already knocked him out with everything he had while calling for backup. “We need backup urgently! We have an attempted murder against an agent, the suspect is down and the agent is shot, send an ambulance.”

“Jake.” You whispered his name knowing that you would soon pass out. Your body was already showing signs that it was weakening from the loss of blood.

“I hope you can forgive me one day.” You lifted your hand from your free arm and touched his cheek before feeling everything slowly go dark. His face nuzzled into your hand. “I really love you.” His hand was shaking as he placed it over yours.

He was crying as he nodded his head. “I love you too.” He said between tears, but you had already fainted, leaving him even more desperate “Y/N? Y/N!! ANSWER ME!!” He started to scream, but he was pulled back when help arrived.

Jihoon was taken away by the other police officers while Jay held Jake who was disoriented and struggling when he saw that you weren't waking up.

“PLEASE CALM DOWN.” Jay yelled and Jake felt his body weaken as he watched you being put into an ambulance “She needs to go to the hospital, let them take care of her.”

“LET ME GO! I need to see her.” Jake said feeling his head hurt and Jay let go of him seeing the precarious situation Jake found himself in as he was kneeling on the floor.

“She's my best friend. I care about her too, man.” Jay looked at Jake in a friendly way and bent down holding his shoulders “But we need to trust them and make sure we finish our job so everything she did wasn't in vain.” Jake nodded and Jay got up offering his hand to Jake.

“C'mon let's finish everything and we'll go to the hospital, I'll take you.” Jake took Jay's hand and decided to trust him.

But even on the way to the hospital Jake couldn't stop the tears from streaming down his face.

After you went to the hospital and were stabilized and your life was out of any danger, Jake was called by Jay to give a statement at the police station as his last participation in the case.

Jake told him everything he knew in the last details so that all of this would finally be over and he could return to the hospital with the hope of seeing you wake up. Jay informed him that thanks to his help in arresting Jihoon they were able to identify the others involved and the main boss, solving the case, leaving Jake relieved.

“You are free to go.” Jay gave Jake a side smile after his statement “Your records and your friends’ records are clean. Thank you for your cooperation.” Jay shook Jake’s hand, who looked at him confused, trying to understand how this happened.

“What do you mean? I thought you just wanted my statement.” He said, squeezing Jay’s hand back.

“You know, I'm gonna be honest with you.” Jay sighed and leaned over the table, putting his arms over it. “Y/N did everything she could to get us to clear your records in exchange for your cooperation.”

Jake felt his heart melt with remorse at hearing this “I know it’s not easy for you to understand, but we had to do our job.” He looked at Jake with pity “She really cares about you guys, you can be sure of that.”

Jay laughed and Jake stared at him without saying anything “She always defended you guys and that's why we ended up fighting and she almost left the case because of it.” He smiled tenderly at Jake “I sincerely hope you understand her side.” He squeezed Jake's shoulder and he nodded.

“I didn’t know that.” He confessed, feeling his heart heavy when he remembered the last argument you both had. “Well, it’s understandable.” Jay sighed, crossing his arms “She has a tendency to keep all those feelings inside for the good of everyone, it’s a bad habit.”

Jake smiled for the first time “It really is.” Jay looked at him, noticing how dejected he was “She’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“I know, it’s just that I have so much to tell her.” He sighed and Jay stood up “So when she wakes up, you tell her everything.” Jake stood up and held Jay’s hand “And don’t let her get away anymore.”

Jake just nodded and smiled. “I won’t. Not anymore.”

☆

When you opened your eyes you were faced with the sight of a disconcerting light coming from the sun through the window while your head throbbed. You opened your eyes slowly feeling the soft mattress of the hospital bed and your shoulder ache slightly from the movement.

Looking to the side, your eyes widened when you saw Jake sitting in a chair and taking a nap. Your heart raced and you felt butterflies in your stomach at the sight.

His head was bowed while his arms were crossed. It was clearly not a comfortable position, but you wondered if you should wake him up or let him wake up naturally.

“Jake?” You called him in a low, delicate voice, trying not to scare him.

Jake opened his eyes slightly and ran his hand over his face before stretching. When he turned his face and saw your bright doe eyes looking at him, he felt his heart stop.

“Y/N?” He called your name as gently as possible before leaning down and touching your cheek gently “Can you speak?”

“Yes.” You nodded your head and tried to sit up, but the pain in your shoulder was unbearable. “Don’t get up, you’ve been out for 24 hours.” Your eyes widened, realizing that you had slept for a whole day “The doctors said you were very stressed and fatigued.”

It was obvious that you hadn’t been sleeping well since the argument with Jake, but you didn’t imagine it would be to the point of blacking out for an entire day. “I’m sorry.” Jake’s voice snapped you out of the trance you were in and he took your hand “I feel like this is my fault.”

“It’s not your fault.” You sighed, lacing your fingers through Jake’s knuckles “It’s my job.”

“Still, thank you for saving my life.” Jake’s eyes filled with tears “I don’t know if you remember what I said before,” You looked at him curiously, “but I wanted to repeat it.” He took a deep breath and looked at you with pure sincerity in his eyes. “I love you.”

Your heart raced to the point where you were afraid it would jump out of your ribcage. Memories of what you said before you passed out invaded your mind and you felt your body heat up. “I thought you would never forgive me.” You whispered, feeling the emotions take over your being and Jake shook his head, placing kisses on the back of your hand.

“I know, I was a jerk. I’m sorry for the things I said to you.” You saw how he looked at you tenderly “I was angry and lost my mind that day, but the truth is that I couldn’t live without you.” He said smiling “I love you so much and besides, you’re the bullet of my kingdom.” You laughed remembering your nickname.

“I was wrong too.” You played with his fingers “I could have told the truth before, but it wasn’t easy.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” He leaned closer and kissed your forehead “Let’s forget about this and have a fresh start.” You nodded and smiled happily “I would love that.”

He gave one of those smiles that broke your heart and touched his lips into yours in a long kiss. “Now rest, I'm going to call the nurse.” He said and you snuggled into the pillow trying to relax.

Even you wouldn't be able to believe everything that happened.

While you were recovering in the hospital, Jay and the boys came to visit you, bringing you candy, flowers, and cheering you up while you tried not to think about the gunshot you’d received. It would probably take you over a month to fully recover the movement of your shoulder, but you were grateful to be alive and to have been able to save Jake.

Jake wouldn't leave your side, except for the days he had to go home to work part-time and pick up more clothes to spend the night at the hospital. Even though everything had worked out, you still couldn't believe that you could finally experience everything you wanted without having to lie or pretend to be something you weren't.

Jake knew who you were and decided to stay, and that was all you needed to be able to live in peace.

Jay had also updated you on how the case was successfully closed, and because of Jihoon's connections they were able to track down the main boss. Inside you were happy, you had done your job and despite getting shot, everything ended well.

There was only one thing you knew you would miss, and you weren't ready to admit it out loud, but deep down you knew you would miss racing. The truth is that the environment of customized cars with modified engines had become natural and fun for you, and personally you would miss the competitions.

Maybe in the distant future, you would race again as bullet.

☆

1 MONTH LATER

You looked at the front of Jake's garage, feeling a nostalgic feeling invade your interior. From afar, you saw that Ni-ki and Jungwon were talking and laughing about something at the entrance.

A small smile formed on your face when you saw how well they looked. These boys had a place in your heart and you wouldn't be able to forget the time you spent together racing.

As you approached, Ni-ki was the first to notice your presence. His eyes widened and Jungwon followed his line of sight to see you arrive dressed in a police uniform.

“Wow, seeing you dressed like that is so weird.” The boy said and you laughed “What do you think?” Ni-ki watched as you turned around and clapped his hands “It kind of suits you, even though it’s a little scary.”

“You’ve always been so cool, I could never guess you were a cop.” Jungwon commented and Ni-ki agreed making you laugh “Hey! I’m still cool!”

From afar, Sunghoon and Heeseung watched the interaction at the garage door and looked at each other before seeing how Jake looked entertained by the car he was working on.

They approached the entrance and smiled at you “Hey man, check out this look.” Sunghoon elbowed Heeseung, pointing to your outfit “I’m seeing, bro. I smelled bad boots from afar.” You laughed and greeted the boys “It’s good to see you guys too.”

“Y/N, your uniform is giving me the creeps.” Sunghoon said, placing his hand on his chest. “Please don’t arrest me!” He put his hands together as if he were saying a prayer and you laughed “Don’t worry, I came in peace today.”

They laughed and watched how you were looking out for Jake “He’s back there.” Heeseung said and you smiled, thanking the boys “I’ll be right back, boys.”

“I know you won’t.” Sunghoon mumbled and Heeseung chuckled “But we’ll wait anyway.” Heeseung added and you smiled before heading towards Jake.

As you approached, a whirlwind of sensations took over your body as you recognized the place, and how Jake continued to look extremely handsome at his job. He was wearing a white tank top this time, and his dark brown hair fell perfectly over his forehead.

He turned his face expecting to see Sunghoon and smiled broadly when he saw it was you “What's up bullet.” Jake said in a mischievous tone coming closer and you smiled “What's up King.” Your voice made Jake’s insides stir with everything.

“What did I do to deserve the honor of your visit, officer?” He put his hands on your waist, pulling you towards him “I missed you, and I came to make you a proposal.” You showed a paper that you were holding and waved it in front of Jake “What is this?” He held the paper with one hand, looking at the contents curiously “We are recruiting drivers.” You ran your hand down Jake’s chest “Since you said you wanted to do things legally, I thought of you.” Jake smiled, seeing your eyes shine with a mischievous glow “Just for that?” He asked “And because I miss racing with you. There I said it.”

Jake laughed, placing his hand on the corner of your neck. “Yeah?” He leaned in and gave you a quick peck “And what do I get out of this?” He asked, brushing his lips over yours “You get a wonderful salary and an amazing car of your choice.” You looked at him and he bit his lower lip “What about you? Do I get you too?” He asked teasingly and you pulled his shirt. “You never lost me.” You whispered and he kissed you once more, enveloping you completely.

“Then I accept.” He smiled and looked you up and down “You know, you look pretty hot in that uniform.” You laughed and ruffled his hair “Really? You can see it better later then.” Jake smirked “If you keep looking at me this way, I'll let you arrest me.” You flicked his forehead and smiled “Careful or I’ll really arrest you, my king.”

“Get a room!” Ni-ki shouted from afar and the two of you looked at each other before bursting out laughing.

At the end of the day, this was your perfect happy ending: The two of you together, racing as King and Bullet, with no expiration date.

☆

2K notes · View notes

snoopyracing · 2 months ago

Text

it’ll pass // mv33

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?”

#max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #mine #writing

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tobiasdrake · 6 months ago

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I really do love how much you can tell about Doomguy just from looking around his room.

Like. Yeah, all the stuff you expect to see is there.

He's got his big ol' gun rack.

What appears to be a rock he uses as a punching bag.

Whetstone for sharpening his knives. All the Real Manly Violence Man stuff you'd think would be there.

But also a pair of nunchaku. Doomguy has never used nunchaku in any of his games. Those are just there because apparently he's the kind of dork who likes to play around with nunchaku and pretend he's doing kung fu.

Also a jump rope. Gotta keep his cardio up for all that running and jumping he has to do.

He reads Guns & Bullets magazine, but he also reads Science Monthly. Which makes sense that he'd be a bit of a techie since....

...he seems to have made his new Praetor Suit by disassembling the old one and rebuilding it to be higher-quality. You can see from the guts of the suit that it's powered armor, and he just... knows how to work that.

He's mad. Not stupid.

He also reads cooking magazines, of course. His only friend is Doom J.A.R.V.I.S.; He's gotta be self-sufficient. Though how he got those pizzas delivered is certainly beyond me.

And, of course, he has a collection of regular books that he likes to read as well. Though his taste in literature reveals a certain trend.

Also, he reads comics.

So many comics.

So, so many comics that he's left discarded comics lying around on his munitions cases. This man is a nerd.

And if you doubt his nerd cred, remember that he even keeps collectible toy displays. Doomguy is explicitly the kind of person who will go out of his way in a firefight with the forces of Hell itself to go snatch up a new toy for his collection.

He even has collectible toy figures hanging out on his computer desk. He put a little hard hat on one of them.

On the other side of his desk, he's got some leftover pizza from the inexplicable delivery service, plus takoyaki flavor chips and some candy. It seems Doomguy is a fruity candy kind of guy, not a chocolate guy. Man after my own heart.

Oh, you know he has shredded every single surface of the Fortress of Doom at some point. How do you think he learned to react so quickly in combat?

That is, of course....

When he's not ROCKING OUT with one of his three separate guitars. I bet the middle one's his favorite. It has a place of honor under the giant demon skull.

Some people might say that a record player and casette tapes are old-fashioned but cut him some slack; He's a Gen X-er.

Of course, there's one thing that any walk through Doomguy's room reveals more than anything else. The one thing that matters more than the world to him. The thing that drives him in his every waking moment.

He loved his bunny rabbit. My favorite thing about the portrait - Well, my favorite thing about it is that it's a piece of fanart that got officially canonized, but aside from that - is that he's wearing his Praetor Suit in it.

That's not something he brought from home. He commissioned an artist to paint that after becoming a Night Sentinel. He still loves his poor, late bunny rabbit.

And he keeps her close to him when he's home.

#doom #doom eternal #doom slayer #doomguy

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lackadaisycats · 1 year ago

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I hope you know that literally nobody is going to be able to live up to the standard you, V*v, and Glitch have set and your arrogance and exploitation of your fanbase and connections has screwed millions of creatives out of their dreams because Hollywood is a joke that isn't worth telling and wealthy e-celebs like yourself have claimed the indie scene all to yourselves and moved the goalposts into the stratosphere.

Nope. This isn't a zero sum game. There is not some limited, prescribed number of indie trophy slots that a few studios greedily filled up, blocking everyone else out. That is not how it works. Nothing any other creator is doing - short of personally sending hired goons to your doorstep or stealing your credit cards - is taking anything away from you or preventing your success. In fact if an indie creator can manage to demonstrate that they've got something viable going, it may help to map out a pathway for others.

I think I'm not going to bother trying to address whether or not cartoons in return for support from fans - an entirely voluntary exchange - constitutes exploitation. And I'm living in the Midwest driving a 2007 economy car with 200k+ miles on it, but let's just skip past the assumptions that I'm wealthy and connected too.

Instead, let's get to the weirdly myopic notion that the indie scene is held captive by three studios. Maybe YouTube algorithms or Twitter bubbles are somewhat to blame, but in actuality there are so, so many individual people, friend groups, and small production houses out there making independent animation, I cannot possibly name them all.

Here are some anyway:

Far-Fetched Worthikids Satina | Scumhouse Noodle and Bun Punch Punch Forever Ramshackle Noodle Papajoolia | Pipi Angel Hare | The East Patch Jonni Peppers Salad Fingers Monkey Wrench Studio Heartbreak Felix Colgrave JelloApocalypse Odd1sout (started indie, got picked up by Netflix) Allie Mehner JaidenAnimations Lumi and the Great Big Galaxy Cloudrise | The Worlds Divide Telepurte RubberRoss James Lee ENA Godspeed | Olan Rogers Ollie and Scoops Meat Canyon Port by the Sea Kekeflipnote Boxtown Kevin Temmer Weebl Joel Haver CircleToons Long Gone Gulch Atlas and the Stars Animist Skibidi Toilet A Fox in Space Alex Henderson Talon Toniko Pantoja Sr. Pelo Hullabaloo Kane Pixels (started indie, picked up by A24) Homestar Runner Fennah Gods' School Alan Becker Dungeon Flippers JazLyte Psychicpebbles (started indie, Smiling Friends picked up by AS) Piemations vewn Metal Family Dead Sound chluaid Jacknjellify Betsy Lee | No Evil My Pride Cranbersher GeoExe | Gwain Saga Horatio the Vampire Mech West Playground | Rodrigo Sousa The Brave Locomotive Finchwing (+ many other Warrior Cats animators) Quazies SamBakZa Kamikaze: Trial by Fire

By no means a full list. That's just YouTube, and mostly just English language stuff, and I didn't even get to the multitudes of Warrior Cats animation collabs.

The point is, the indie landscape is vast and populated by creators new and old, making all kinds of animated media from skits, to shows, to ARGs, to films. Audience sizes vary as much as the content, stylistic approaches, subject matter, and budgets do. There are no compliance standards, no gateways to entry, no goalposts. There's not even any preset definition of success except what you decide for yourself.

Anyway, instead of nurturing your resentments, consider making something. I assure you, it's a far more rewarding use of your time and energy, and pretty much no one can stop you. ------------- EDIT- Made some additions to the list based on comments. Thanks!

#lackadaisy #lackadaisycats #animation #indie animation #this is not a list of moral endorsements #please don't come at me with your internet dramas

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foone · 1 year ago

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why are printers so hated? it's simple:

computers are good at computering. they are not good at the real world.

the biggest problems in computers, the ones that have had to change the most over the time they've existed, are the parts that deal with the real world. The keyboard, the mouse, the screen. every computer needs these, but they involve interacting with the real world. that's a problem. that's why they get replaced so much.

now, printers: printers have some of the most complex real-world interaction. they need to deposit ink on paper in 2 dimensions, and that results in at least three ways it can go on right from the start. (this is why 3D printers are just 2D printers that can go wrong in another whole dimension)

scanners fall into many of the same problems printers have, but fewer people have scanners, and they're not as cost-optimized. But they are nearly as annoying.

This is also why you can make a printer better by cutting down on the number of moving elements: laser printers are better than inkjets, because they only need to move in one dimension, and their ink is a powder, not a liquid. and the best-behaved printers of all are thermal printers: no ink and the head doesn't move. That's why every receipt printer is a thermal printer, because they need that shit to work all the time so they can sell shit. And thermal is the most reliable way to do that.

But yeah, cost-optimization is also a big part of why printers are such finicky unreliable bastards: you don't want to pay much for them. Who is excited for all the printing they're gonna be doing? basically nobody. But people get forced to have a printer because they gotta print something, for school or work or the government or whatever. So they want the cheapest thing that'll work. They're not shopping on features and functionality and design, they want something that costs barely anything, and can fucking PRINT. anything else is an optional bonus.

And here's the thing: there's a fundamental limit of how much you can optimize an inkjet printer, and we got near to it in like the late 90s. Every printer since then has just been a tad smaller, a tad faster, and added some gimmicks like printing from WIFI or bluetooth instead of needing to plug in a cable.

And that's the worst place to be in, for a computer component. The "I don't care how fancy it is, just give me one that works" zone. This is why you can buy a keyboard for 20$ and a mouse for 10$ and they both work plenty fine for 90% of users. They're objectively shit compared to the ones in the 60-150$ range, but do they work? yep. So that's what people get.

Printers fell into that zone long, long ago, when people stopped getting excited about "desktop publishing". So with printers shoved into the "make them as cheap as possible" zone, they have gotten exponentially shittier. Can you cut costs by 5$ a printer by making them jam more often? good. make them only last a couple years to save a buck or two per unit? absolutely. Can you make the printer cost 10$ less and make that back on the proprietary ink cartridges? oh, they've been doing that since Billy Clinton was in office.

It's the same place floppy disks were in in about 2000. CD-burners were not yet cheap enough, USB flash drives didn't exist yet (but were coming), modems weren't fast enough yet to copy stuff over the internet, superfloppies hadn't taken over like some hoped, and memory cards were too expensive and not everyone had a drive for them. So we still needed floppy disks, but at the same time this was a technology that hadn't changed in nearly 20 years. So people were tired of paying out the nose for them... the only solution? cut corners. I have floppy disks from 1984 that read perfectly, but a shrinkwrapped box of disks from 1999 will have over half the disks failed. They cut corners on the material quality, the QA process, the cleaning cloth inside the disk, everything they could. And the disks were shit as a result.

So, printers are in that particular note of the death-spiral where they've reached the point of "no one likes or cares about this technology, but it's still required so it's gone to shit". That's why they are so annoying, so unreliable, so fucking crap.

So, here's the good news:

You can still buy a better printer, and it will work far better. Laser printers still exist, and LED printers work the same way but even cheaper. They're still more expensive than inkjets (especially if you need color), but if you have to print stuff, they're a godsend. Way more reliable.

This is not a stable equilibrium. Printers cannot limp along in this terrible state forever. You know why I brought up floppy disk there? (besides the fact I'm a giant floppy disk nerd) because floppy disks GOT REPLACED. Have you used one this decade? CD-Rs and USB drives and internet sharing came along and ate the lunch of floppy disks, so much so that it's been over a decade since any more have been made. The same will happen to (inkjet) printers, eventually. This kind of clearly-broken situation cannot hold. It'll push people to go paperless, for companies to build cheaper alternatives to take over from the inkjets, or someone will come up with a new, more reliable printer based on some new technology that's now cheap enough to use in printers. Yeah, it sucks right now, but it can't last.

So, in conclusion: Printers suck, but this is both an innate problem caused by them having to deal with so much fucking Real World, and a local minimum of reliability that we're currently stuck in. Eventually we'll get out of this valley on the graph and printers will bother people a lot less.

Random fun facts about printing of the past and their local minimums:

in the hot metal type era, not only would the whole printing process expose you to lead, the most common method of printing text was the linotype, which could go wrong in a very fun way: if the next for a line wasn't properly justified (filling out the whole row), it could "squirt", and lead would escape through gaps in the type matrix. This would result in molten lead squirting out of the machine, possibly onto the operator. Anecdotally, linotype operators would sometimes recognize each other on the street because of the telltale spots on their forearms where they had white splotches where no hair grew, because they got bad lead burns. This type of printing remained in use until the 80s.

Another fun type of now-retired printers are drum printers, a type of line printer. These work something like a typewriter or dot-matrix printer, except the elements extend across the entire width of the paper. So instead of printing a character at time by smacking it into the paper, the whole line got smacked nearly at once. The problem is that if the paper jammed and the printer continued to try to print, that line of the paper would be repeatedly struck at high speed, creating a lot of heat. This worry created the now-infamous Linux error: "lp0 on fire". This was displayed when the error signals from a parallel printer didn't make sense... and it was a real worry. A high speed printer could definitely set the paper on fire, though this was rare.

So... one thing to be grateful about current shitty inkjet printers: they are very unlikely to burn anything, especially you.

(because before they could do that they'd have to work, at least a little, first, and that's very unlikely)

#printers #my writing

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rizzanon · 3 months ago

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Imagine being the neglected daughter of Bruce Wayne. No matter how hard you tried, you were always a shadow in a house full of larger-than-life personalities. You trained until your muscles ached, went on as many patrols as you could, and pushed yourself far beyond your limits—anything to earn even a sliver of attention from your father or siblings. But it never worked.

They always seemed so caught up in their own lives, their own missions, their own struggles. Dick was the golden boy, your father’s favourite no doubt. Jason was the black sheep of the family, but everyone still cared abiut him. Tim was the genius strategist, very much like your father, someone who felt so out of reach for you. Damian was the prodigy heir, the blood son, as he liked to flaunt, and someone able to have a proper father-son bond with Bruce. Cassandra was the silent powerhouse who also had an unshakable bond with Bruce, and Duke? Duke was the bright light—the one who somehow fit into the family dynamic faster than you ever could.

And you? You didn’t fit anywhere. You were just there, occupying space, trying so desperately to carve a place for yourself in a family that didn’t seem to have room for you.

You told yourself it would get better. That one day, they’d see you. But that day never came.

By the time you were twenty, you’d long since lost yourself in the role of being “Bruce Wayne’s daughter.” You couldn’t even remember what you liked or what you wanted for yourself anymore. What’s worde was that you weren’t even acknowledged as Bruce Wayne’s daughter. You were a disgrace, the media and public not letting you forget about your “disgraceful” bloodline. Your mother had an affair with Bruce Wayne years ago, and the moment you were born, she just left you at the doorstep of the manor, and completely disappeared. You weren’t wanted by your mother, nor your father. Nor by anyone else. Yet, you still tried. Hoping that things would change. Things would be different. But then, one night, everything ended.

It was a routine patrol. You’d tracked a lead on a drug ring to a rundown warehouse. It should have been simple. But then the shootout started. You held your own as best as you could, but you weren’t fast enough. You weren’t strong enough.

As you lay there bleeding out, alone in the cold darkness of the alley, all you could think about were regrets.

You wished you hadn’t wasted so much of your life chasing the approval of a family that didn’t seem to care. You wished you hadn’t pushed away your friends—the ones who told you that you deserved better, who begged you to stop throwing yourself into something that was breaking you. You wished you’d never picked up a mask at all.

Crime-fighting wasn’t for you. You knew that deep down. You wanted to help people, yes, but you weren’t like your brothers and sister. You didn’t have their instincts, their skills, their drive. It was like everyone else was built for this life, as if it was etched into their very bones. But you weren’t like them. You were trying to fight battles you weren’t built for, all because you thought it would make them notice you.

And as the world faded, your final thought was this: If I could do it all over again, I’d leave. I’d move out the second I could. I’d erase every trace of (Name) Wayne and start over. I’d live for myself.

Then everything went dark.

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the ceiling of your bedroom at Wayne Manor. You sat up, your heart pounding. The pain was gone, your wounds were gone—everything felt… normal. Too normal.

You looked down at yourself, noticing your hands were smaller, your frame slighter. Confused, you stumbled to the mirror across the room, and what you saw made your breath catch.

It was you. But younger. You couldn’t have been older than sixteen.

Your mind raced. Was this some kind of hallucination? A cruel trick? But then your gaze caught the date on your phone. It was four years ago.

You were sixteen again.

Should I write about this??

edit: yes, i think i’m gonna write this now, just need at least a few days to draft the storyline and see where i want to go with it 🫶

edit 2: yes, i’ve already started working on this , go check it out!! <3

#imagine #x reader #angst #batsis #batfamily #batfam x batsis #bruce wayne x daughter reader #damian wayne x sister reader #batfam x reader #batsisreader #batman #bruce wayne #damian wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #duke thomas

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keferon · 3 months ago

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My hands are shaky and my head is refusing to work properly! But! I made it!

The Blurr chapter for Mecha au >:D

Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.

Blurr's job is to smile for the camera and take the applause of people who praise him for his bravery and sacrifice. Blurr's job is to sell his face, his voice and his skills to millions of viewers. He must impress investors, show off advanced technology and make a determined face saying that to save mankind he is ready for anything. And then get in a luxury car and drive off to some expensive place to burn a whole bunch of zeros out of his paycheck.

He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.

And people believe him.

And they love him.

Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.

Under the cut

————————————

Nobody likes Blurr.

Okay, if you think on a large scale, everyone loooves Blurr. His face is on every poster, his brand is in every possible store, his voice and is in every cool commercial. You literally can't exist without knowing who Blurr is, or at least seeing his face once. It's a “Luke I'm your father” level phenomenon. How massive a rock do you have to live under to miss something like that?

Everybody loves Blurr. You can go buy a t-shirt with his face on it. You can go listen to his interviews or purchase a tiny replica of his action figure. There are incredibly many ways a Blurr fan can blow a hole in their budget.

Swerve knows, because he's done it many times. And recently, it's stopped being something he's proud of. To be precise, it was exactly four days ago when Blurr first stepped into his office. Swerve had just finished his shift and was finishing his tea when his boss suddenly appeared in the doorway, with the best racer in the world right behind him.

The tea was instantly dropped, adrenaline was released, and the brain was turned off.

In that moment, Swerve thought that this is what it must look like. The moment when all your good karma comes together in one pile to reward you for all the times you dropped a sandwich butter side down or missed a deadline.

Both of which happened with annoying regularity. Swerve is unlucky. Sometimes things seem to fall through his hands.

It started out great.

Swindle, their boss, showed up in the office space one day looking simultaneously jubilant, nervous, and very inspired. Usually on such occasions, Swerve could almost see the dollar signs reflected in his boss's glasses.

“Attention everyone. We have an important guest arriving in an hour.”

Swindle expressively pushed his glasses down on his nose and looked around the room

“I promised him a tour and I expect you all to behave yourselves.”

He meticulously looks around the floor beneath his feet

“Send someone to clean up all the trash. This place is unbelievably filthy. The floors should be sparkling in twenty minutes! And, oh! Hey you, go buy some good drinks.”

Having finished inspecting the floor Swindle hurriedly runs off, probably to say the same thing to the neighboring department.

Swerve stretches his neck out curiously, listening in

“Is the president coming to see us?”

Walking by, Jazz shrugs

“When the president was coming Swindle said the floor was dirty and made him wear boot covers.”

It's not the president

Swindle gestures generously to the entire office at once and looks overall like a bird trying his best to primp up

“And here we have the engineering department offices. In the next building is the assembly plant, that's where the mechs are put on their feet so to speak. And this is where all the computing, design, and planning happens.”

Just over his shoulder stands and looks around at none other than

Oh, dear God.

Swerve's tea flies to the floor next to his thought processes.

He's seen Blurr countless times, but never in person. How can this guy look as good in person as he does in expensive retouched-until-squeaky-clean photos? Mystery.

Blurr's gaze slides lazily over the simple office setting and for those two seconds when it's directed at Swerve it feels like sheer madness. He tries to look normal. He's not sure he's succeeding, but he's making an effort.

Swindle waltzes through the office, heading for the next door

“Come on I'll show you the mech hangar.”

Blurr grins.

“A highlight of the show I suppose~”

His voice is like a needle bursting a ball of stunned silence. People begin to rise from their seats and scramble to say hello. Someone asks for an autograph, others ask for a bunch of selfies, a couple people in the corner hastily fix their hair, one of the employees just pulls out his phone and shamelessly starts filming.

Swindle looks at the this with an unchanging commercial smile, but his gaze promises all kinds of punishment.

Perhaps if it had been the president, the buffoonery would have been smaller.

______________

For the next few days, Blurr is the big news and the center of all discussion.

Officially? He's becoming one of the pilots in the Mecha program.

In fact? Swindle's greedy soul couldn't get enough of the idea that the Mech concept could be monetized.

The dust is blown off Blurr and his boots are licked. He doesn't go to general training, he doesn't participate in ordinary or overly dangerous missions. He's allowed everything and a little more. His job is to look pretty on camera, speak his lines, smile and wink. He's a walking advertisement and Swindle's incredibly powerful tool in negotiating with investors.

Swerve once saw him called to a negotiation in the middle of the night, and even sleep-deprived and exhausted after a full day of filming, Blurr had the strength to pull that charming expression on his face and flawlessly play along with Swindle wherever he needed to.

His mech was a work of art. And that's not even an exaggeration. Usually the main purpose of mechs is to be efficient and practical. Blurr's Mech was made separately and so many people worked on its design that it could have its own end credits. It's beautiful, sleek, shiny and show-offy. It's designed to be awe-inspiring, but not so decorated that it's ridiculous.

When Swerve looks at its specs, he almost feels sick. Maneuverability, mobility, everything is absolutely top-notch. But most importantly, speed.

The technology to accelerate Mechs to incredible speeds has been around for some time, but the average robot doesn't reach even half of the technically possible maximum. Because even the fastest machine can't outrun the human brain.

After a certain threshold, pilots are no longer capable of controlling their own Mech. Human reaction speed is simply not enough to maneuver without crashing into anything or losing their orientation in space. And. Well. Without losing consciousness.

This has led to Mech manufacturers sort of tacitly agreeing on a rough speed limit and tending to stick to it. Just to make the technology safer and more suitable for everyone.

Regardless. Everyone except Blurr apparently.

Because the numbers across from his Mech's speed specs are horrifying. Swerve looks at the blueprints and thinks it's either freaking awesome or absolute suicide. Maybe something in between. Can a human being have reflexes like that? What about this turning mechanism? The numbers tell him that these levels of g-force make a large percentage of pilots just pass out.

Is Blurr really going to pilot this death wagon??

To achieve that kind of speed and mobility, they'd have to cut off half the armor or make it very light. Which would almost be like inviting a dangerous injury.

But if the Mech is made primarily to flaunt rather than fight...well... it probably makes sense.

Swerve's inner fan is sliding down the wall.

Blurr is incredible. And what's even more incredible is that he's kind of sort of almost Swerve's coworker now.

It only takes him a couple days to realize.

Everyone loves Blurr.

But the one who loves Blurr the most is Blurr himself.

The rose-tinted glasses are breaking slowly but surely. On the first day, Sverve walks up on shaky legs to get introduced. He tells himself that this is definitely not an attempt to get an autograph. They're coworkers. He's just...uh...greeting a new employee.

Blurr looks slightly bored.

“You're from this department....uh.. What's its name, whatever.”

Swerve clutches his hands in front of him so he doesn't accidentally drop anything

“OH.Uh yeah. Swerve! Engineering Department. You were there on a tour the other day. I usually work in the assembly plant, making armor for Mechs, developing new alloys. But I design too! I, uh.

(Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. Don't talk about Blurr. He'll think you're a crazy fan. Don't talk about Blurr.)

Blurr starts to get sidetracked by his phone.

Swerve swallows awkwardly.

“I'm uh. I'm a big fan of yours. Sir.”

(Good job...)

Blurr chuckles softly and offers out his hand

“Well, nice to meet you.”

Sverve's hand is shaking like crazy, he hopes he isn't squeezing too hard. Working in the assembly has made his hands rough. Blurr's narrow, soft palm is almost sinking in his grip.

“ 'Nice to meet you, yes. Nice to meet you sir! If you, ah, if you have any problems or questions or uh, well. You know, if you need help with your Mech or upgrades or or.”

Blurr chuckles.

“I'll be counting on you~”

Swerve feels like his soul is about to break away from his body.

The next, day when they cross paths in the hallway Blurr waves to him.

“Hey you. Whatever your name is. Can you tell me how to get to Block D?

Swerve stops awkwardly.

“Ah. Of course! I'm Swerve sir. Come, I'll show you.”

Blurr smiles a beautiful, ad-libbed smile and follows him in

“Thank you darling.”

From this point on, the entire program gradually learns a simple but unpleasant truth.

Blurr is an asshole.

And nobody likes him.

He always has everyone at his beck and call. You rarely get to see him on his own. There's always someone swirling around him with a guilty or annoyed face. A sort of serve-get-show-explain designated poor guy.

Swindle treats Blurr like a precious antique vase.

Blurr treats people like his servants.

The whole world is in love with the glittering cover, the image polished to a squeak. Until recently, Swerve was doing the same thing. Now it feels more like an embarrassing crush.

Blurr still doesn't remember his name. He actually remembers at most three to four people by name, and calls everyone else “hey you” or “ darling”. After Swerve reintroduced himself to him for the fourth time he just sort of...stopped trying.

On the field, Blurr is incredible. No one can deny that. The tremendous speed of his Mech leaves all the other pilots in the dust. Whoever said human reflexes weren't fast enough? HA. When Swerve sees his reports and results, he gets dizzy.

The combination of such incredible speeds and light armor means Blurr simply can't miss. If he hesitates, if he falters. If he gets confused. The whole metal thing will smash him to smithereens.

And yet Blurr comes back untouched time after time.

Swerve's no longer inclined to think it's just because of his mad skills. He knows that Swindle is paying Blurr a lot of money for his cooperation. No one would let Blurr fight on the front lines, no. It would be too dangerous. He has to do just enough so that Swindle can record a commercial and in it call Blurr a badass pilot without adding small print to that statement.

Blurr's job is not to fight for humanity.

He's not someone who stays after work to help his coworkers. And he's not the one who spends his nights trying to save as many people as possible. But he is the first person every citizen would name if asked to say something about the Mech program. He signs autographs, makes big statements, and promises people he'll protect them.

And people believe him.

And they love him.

A month later, he still can't remember anyone's names and sometimes calls people by the colors of their clothes, laughing as if they should take it as a cute joke.

Swerve is sick of this spectacle. Swerve is sick of this man.

That's okay.

It's not like fanboying over Blurr is Swerve's only passion.

He gets upset.

Then he gets mad and rips down all the posters.

Then he has no time to be angry because Swindle wants to launch Mechs into outer space and damn it, Jazz flies off the planet and doesn't fucking come back. The engineering department stays up nights trying to figure out where he's gone, but they can't.

Unlike Blurr, everybody loved Jazz.

Unlike Blurr, Jazz deserved every ounce of that love.

The ground beneath his feet is starting to shake.

At first, all that happens is panic. Everyone starts making a confused noise, someone assumes an earthquake.

A voice on the speakers says that everyone needs to evacuate immediately, but no one hears it because huge mechanical tentacles start coming through the windows and the whole building starts shaking, creaking and crumbling.

Sverve has seen the monsters humanity has to fight many times. But never this close. And their size leaves him absolutely terrified. These things are huge, they take up all visible space. And what's most damning is that they can break down the walls around Swerve like a fucking cookie.

He's gonna die. Oh god he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die, he's going to die here under this stupid rubble or get eaten or turned into one of the ugly bloody stains on the wall. His heart is doing a million beats a minute and his eyes are starting to sting. He tries to get to the emergency exit, but the door is blocked by one of the huge toothy creatures that is actively trying to get in.

Next to him, Swindle is shouting to someone on his comm, trying to sound louder than the rumble of the collapsing building and the hungry aliens.

The floor tilts at a very disturbing angle and Swerve grabs one of the interior doorways to stay in place. A second later, he reaches out and pulls Swindle, who has already slowly begun to slip toward the monster's huge hungry maw, to the same doorway.

Swindle grabs onto the frame of the door and Swerve at the same time. His glasses are cracked and his usually neat expensive coat is all dust and debris.

“It was a trap.”

Swerve can't hear a word over the grinding of breaking structures.

“What?”

Swindle almost slips and falls, but Swerve grabs him by the scruff of his coat and puts him back on his feet. Working in an assembly shop gives a man strong arms and right now he's very grateful for it.

Swindle makes a second, louder attempt

“It was a trap!!! All available pilots are now on the other side of the country! I've called for backup, but who knows how fast they'll get here.”

A smooth, silky voice comes from a walkie-talkie strapped to his coat.

“Ouch Swindle. So little faith in my professional skills?”

Swindle rounds his eyes

“Blurr??! Where are you!”

Blurr's voice sounds...not quite as it usually does. It's missing the habitual lazy note. The one that makes him sound like the whole world owes him money.

“Give me another minute and the answer will be 'here'.”

The building shakes again. Swindle swears so eloquently that Swerve can't help but admire it.

Swerve can't stand Blurr's smug face, but when he spots the first glimpse of blue metal in the window, joy floods his brain.

He usually associates Blurr with dumb nicknames, dismissive treatment, and commercials.

Now he watches the sleek, fast Mech lunge fearlessly at the monsters surrounding the building and thinks that. Fuck this. He's an asshole, but if he buys Swerve enough time to evacuate, he'll bring him a thank you card or something later. Though it's unlikely Blurr will care about that of course.

Swindle continues to shout instructions over the walkie-talkie. Swerve basically drags him outside by. He jumps up probably a full meter when very near him one of the monsters falls to the ground.

Blurr's Mech stands proudly on top of the fresh corpse and looks...actually really bad. Swerve knows that this particular robot was not built for rough, open confrontation. Its armor is too thin. Designed for speed and agility, not strength. He assembled it himself, after all.

Many of the plates are crumpled. Some are torn off. His legs are intact, but one of the joints sparks funny.

Blurr quickly looks around and Swerve unwittingly follows his example. The whole place is on fire. Office buildings are in ruins and a huge column of black smoke rises above the assembly plant.

Blurr's Mech drops to the ground and gets down on one knee. The plates on its chest are pulled aside and Blurr sticks his head out of the cockpit while simultaneously opening the visor on his helmet.

“Everyone okay?”

Swindle clutches the walkie-talkie

“The office areas are empty, but there still could be people left on the lower floors of the assembly plant. But we have no access there!”

Blurr drums his fingers quickly on the metal plate

“Fire?”

Swindle shrugs his dusty shoulders

“Something exploded at the bottom of the building. It's a real smelter down there.

Even if we send a Mech, it won't last more than a minute before it overheats. Or make the building collapse.”

Blurr's gaze becomes focused. Sharp. Swerve has seen that look many times on tough front line fighters like Jazz. On Blurr, never.

“'That's enough time for me.”

Swindle waves his hands

“Are you crazy?”

Blurr slaps his palm against the armor of his Mech

“This baby is light. Lighter than anything you've got! If anyone can do it without dropping the building, it's me. They make Mechs in the assembly hall, it's got high ceilings right?”

Swerve wants to snap. He wants to throw his hands up angrily and yell something along the lines of “you were literally there!”

Who else is down there on those lower floors??? Tailgate? Maybe Wheeljack? If something exploded, Wheeljack was definitely there. And probably closest to the explosion.

Swindle curses furiously, but retreats and runs off to give orders to someone else.

“”Be a hero if you want, but I'm not going in there. For all I know there could be melting metal in there instead of a floor! It's just not reasonable.”

Swerve's brain stumbles over that statement. Why...Swindle is acting like he's being forced to climb into that building too...?

Blurr looks nervous.

“You know what. Fine. I got it. Hey, you--”

And there it is. The good old namelesness.

Blurr pays no attention to Swerve's frowning face, nor his hands shaking with fear

“ You're familiar with those buildings. You know who was there and where to find them right? I need you to walk me through.”

Swerve feels the urge to snap again and this time doesn't hold it back

“If you cared about something other than yourself, you'd know this damn building and the people who work in it too and !”

“I don't fucking remember!” Blurr interrupts him.

Swerve doesn't have time to put anything in after that. Though a sarcastic comment is begging to be made.

Blurr quickly takes off his helmet and wipes the sweat off his forehead.

“I don't remember okay! This isn't a fad or posing or whatever else you think of me. This is what an accident can do to you if you miss a turn! I can't remember shit, okay?! Do you need a medical report?!”

Swerve just...stands there with his mouth open and probably looks like an idiot.

Blurr nervously tucks back his disheveled hair. The longer he talks, the faster he does it.

“Now. I know you don't want to die in a pit of fire. But I need your help to save them. Don't do anything, just take the map. I promise I won't let you die.”

He sounds determined. And holds out his hand to Swerve, silently inviting him to climb up onto the Mech.

His face is stained in sticky dust, his hair is an absolute mess, and his narrow palm is covered in streaks of soot. It's as if he's been dragged face down a muddy road.

He's. Very Handsome, Swerve thinks.

He takes his hand.

Blurr helps him up, pushes him into the space next to the pilot's seat, and closes the cockpit.

“Been inside a working Mech ever?”

Swerve clenches his hands nervously on the back of the seat

“No.”

The lights of the consoles around him come to life as Blurr puts on his helmet. The space around him hums. It's a strange noise. At once unsettling and calm.

Mech feels alive, he thinks. Then corrects himself. Blurr is mind-linked to this Mech. This Mech can technically be considered alive in a sense.

Blurr moves one of the monitors toward him and opens the map.

“Just mark the path here. Don't touch anything else. And hold on tight. I won't be going too fast anyway, but it'll be shaky.”

Swerve swallows nervously.

“Understood.”

After that, everything turns into motion. Watching the Mech work while being inside is mesmerizing.

Blurr doesn't say much, concentrating on the controls. His hands aren't shaking anymore, Swerve notices. Not even a little.

He steers the machine forward confidently and smoothly, dodging falling debris and avoiding the biggest pockets of fire without panic or hesitation.

He's also strictly following the path Swerve is laying out for him.

The air filtration system is doing well so far. Swerve can feel the smell of burning and the heat slowly creeping up, but it's bearable for now. For now.

They find a man on the nearside of the emergency exit.

Two more people a floor below. A small group stuck in the elevator.

Wheeljack's on the doorstep of his lab.

Blurr pulls them all out. Picks up the first group of people and carries them outside, goes back into the fiery furnace, finds more survivors, pulls them out, goes back, searches, rescues, goes back, searches, rescues.

The heat is coming up. Swerve can feel it. The plates around him are getting hot. The air smells like burnt wires.

Blurr’s Mech wasn't designed for this kind of thing.

His Mech was made to flash for the camera and accelerate to impossible speeds. To deceive and confuse the enemy. Its armor is thin and cools easily in the air, which usually helps it avoid overheating.

This also means that this Mech heats up very quickly as well.

Now, with the air around him feeling like a red-hot frying pan, Swerve regrets not saying anything back then. He regrets that he didn't make any changes to the blueprint.

More and more warnings pop up on the screens. The map stopped working correctly some time ago and Swerve is forced to give directions verbally.

He nervously grips the back of the pilot seat with one hand and, without noticing, Blurr's shoulder with the other.

Blurr carries two more people outside and hands them to the rescuers. Then turns back to the building again and. OH FUCK. Right in front of him, a huge crack begins to creep along the structure. This thing is on the verge of collapse. The roof is already starting to fold down in a very bad way.

Swerve clenches his grip fearfully and hears Blurr hiss through his teeth.

Suddenly, the cockpit opens. The fresh air of the street feels like a cold sledgehammer blow after the heat and stuffiness of the lower levels.

Swerve is about to ask something, but doesn't have time because Blurr uses Mech's hand to gently but quickly pull him outside and set him on the ground.

“You were going to mark another spot.”

Swerve nods hurriedly.

“Tailgate is still there.”

Blurr wrinkles his face.

Swerve corrects himself and clarifies

“Bright blue uniform. Short. Considering all the places we've been, I think he's in the staff quarters. It's...”

He chews his fingers, trying to remember numbers and directions without a map

“...two floors down, left, another floor down and straight ahead.”

As he speaks Blurr bends over the side of the open cockpit and spits...blood on the ground. His nose is bleeding, Swerve realizes. That's not good. It's a clear sign of a malfunctioning neural connection. Or damage to his respiratory system? Possibly both.

Blurr doesn't seem to notice his worried look

“Two down, left down then. Shit. Wait. Two down, left then down, straight ahead yeah?”

Swerve nods.

Blurr keeps repeating these directions like a mantra. A very fast and creepy mantra.

His gaze roams strangely and his breaths sound hoarse. His teeth and chin are covered in blood and his face is streaked with soot.

Swerve understands. He's about to do another go.

Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight. Two down, left, down, straight.

Alone. He's going, and he's going to fry himself alive in there for a stranger he doesn't even remember.

Swerve doesn't have time to say anything. What's he gonna say? Stop? But he wants to save Tailgate? Go on, I believe in you? But it's certain death.

Swerve rarely has nothing to say, but this time he can't find the right words.

Blurr wipes the blood with his sleeve, wrinkles his nose, and storms off, heading back into the flaming mess the plant has become.

Not twenty seconds later, the roof collapses, spewing a huge cloud of smoke, ash, and fire into the sky.

Swerve wrinkles his shirt nervously in his hands.

The walls are still in place, right? If the roof is gone but the walls are still standing it's... it's. It's.

Damn it. He's trying to remember the blueprints. It means the ejector will work. It means Blurr can still get out through the top. That--

Blurr's not getting out. As the small, bright blue escape pod appears above the falling walls of the building, Swerve feels his brain stop. Remember the blueprints, remember the damn blueprints. The Mech is light, the design is compact, the space in the pod is for only one person.

In the capsule lies an unconscious Tailgate.

Swindle grasps the radio

“Blurr? BLURR!”

Swerve looks at the smoke and ash and feels numb. He doesn't want to be here anymore. He has to know. He doesn't...

He feels weird. The same kind of weird as when objects fly seemingly through him. Everything just stops being real.

The thought comes out of nowhere. You don't have to obey the rules. You can see more. Just look.

He's not sure how or why he's doing it.

No one around him is paying much attention to him. Everyone's busy with survivors and damage assessment or just stunned by the chaos.

And him? He disappears.

And then he appears at the bottom. Under the rubble.

All around him is ugly, molten and red-hot chaos, but he doesn't care anymore. He feels like whatever is happening is about to end and he just has to be in time. Time for him to find out.

Blurr's Mech lies crushed by the fallen roof. Its cockpit is open. A gaping hole where his chest was, the place where the escape pod had undocked.

Wall debris has pinned him in a crooked, grotesque pose.

Blurr is here. His legs are wedged between crumpled metal plates inside the cockpit, leaving him hanging upside down. His suit is charred. Half of his face is destroyed. It looks like a horrible bloody and burned mess. It's ugly and gruesome.

Blurr opens his only working eye and gives Swerve a cloudy look.

“I must be seeing things...”

Swerve shrugs in daze. He knows he shouldn't be here.

Blurr spits up a mouthful of blood

“I'm sorry I hurt you uh...”

“Swerve.”

“Yes. Swerve. It's hard for me to remember things unless they're...akgh...hell... not in my face all the time.”

Swerve moves closer and frowns

“You know, that explains but doesn't excuse you.”

Blurr closes his eye and coughs. That sounds really bad.

“No...I guess not.”

He huffs off the blood again. The burned half of his face is oozing with it. The blood runs down his forehead, collecting in a small puddle on the floor.

“It was better than letting everyone know what's wrong with me. I can't even begin to think about the amount of messes I'd be dragged into.”

Swerve notes that the fire seems to be getting closer.

This whole bit of dialog is so unnatural. Who even talks about that kind of stuff before they die. On the other hand. Well. Character development?

“So you think it's better to have everyone assume you're a jerk than that you got your head screwed on?”

Blurr wrinkles his nose.

“ You're a very specific kind of ghost.”

Swerve shoves his hands in his pockets and looks away

“I needed to know. Before you die.”

“That's ...akghhh...ha....it's good to know. Can you tell me something Swerve? As..agh...

As a last wish?”

Swerve shrugs again. He stares at the dripping blood. At the ugly, bubbling burns. At the burst vessels in his eye and the paths of blood from his bleeding nose. He looks at the broken and scorched and dying bloody mess.

He looks at Blurr.

And he thinks, until today, he didn't really love Blurr. Not with the posters and figurines. Not with the disdain and dislike.

He loved an image. And hated an image.

He reaches out and tries to touch Blurr's hand, but goes through it.

“I'm sorry. But we're both not really here. And I have to go.”

He can feel the cold metal around him, which is strange because he's standing in the middle of smoking and burning ruins

“But if it makes you happy, I guess you're my favorite character after all.”

Blurr doesn't answer. Swerve isn't sure he even heard him.

The feeling of metal around him grows sharper.

Someone shines a flashlight in his face.

Swerve blinks stupidly and tries to move away.

The unknown Autobot medic standing over him smiles happily and puts the flashlight away

“Welcome back. You've been in a coma Primus knows how long.”

The other medic to the side frowns

“You have zero tact.”

Swerve blinks his optics puzzled, raises his servo and for a while just stares at it like some movie character. All around him is an Autobot medbay. Metal walls. Metal instruments. And him. Metal.

Yes. Seems so. That's the way he's always been. That's right.

“Doc, you won't believe what kind of weird dream I had.”

___________

Swerve feels like he's going crazy.

He's standing in the middle of a hallway on one of the Autobot ships, and he's staring. shamelessly.

There's Prowl standing at the end of the hallway. And on his shoulder is...

“ JAZZ????”

Both bot and human turn around abruptly at his scream. And both look equally puzzled.

Jazz waves his hand

“Do I know you?”

Swerve is definitely going crazy. It's Jazz. The same one. From his...dream??? But he's real and tangible??? Sitting on Prowl's shoulder, talking and breathing and being seen by everyone not only Swerve????

“You're...real...?”

Jazz raises his eyebrows

“I am. Yes. Really Mech, you sound very familiar.

But I can tell you for a fact that I have not been friends with any Cybertronians before...”

This can't be, this can't be, this isn't....

It was a dream. The spawn of his TV series-addled mind. A hallucination. It wasn't real. It wasn't, was it?

But Jazz is here. And he disappeared from Earth. And now he's here.

And.

What the..

Swerve blurts out something like “sorry-sorry-see-you-later-now-I've got to go” and runs off.

“HEY DOC????”

The autobot, already familiar to him, flinches

“Primus...Swerve? Is something wrong?”

Swerve realizes that everything is about to either make sense or lose it completely.

“Tell me...is it possible to project a holoform...like...very far away?”

The Doctor tilts his head.

“Depends on power consumption. If you channel all the energy available in a frame, you can go very far. But that would send you into a...coma...if you...tried...Swerve, is there anything you'd like to tell me?”

“Doc do you know where Earth is?”

“Wha...no?”

Swerve chuckles nervously and bites his knuckles.

“I don't either. But I think I've been there...”

#tf mecha universe #Blurr #Swindle #Swerve #Jazz #Tailgate #Wheeljack #maccadam #Prowl #Jazzprowl happens for like two seconds #mecha writing #mecha bs writing #mecha kef writing

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supportgaza · 6 months ago

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Dear, free world: Apathy No More!

Note 1: Resharing my post from my terminated Tumblr account (@mahmoudkhalafff).

Note 2: Short-term goal of 30k for evacuation has been thankfully achieved. I am consulting with the Irish Refugee Council and Doras in Ireland regarding the procedures and requirements for issuing reunification visas once the crossing is operational and my family can evacuate for Egypt. We are a big family of many brothers and sisters who have so many children. They are scattered in different areas in the Gaza Strip including the North of Gaza where they can be very hard contact sometimes.

Many other Gazans in Limerick are working hard and reaching out to Irish politicians and MPs to facilitate a safe passage for their families out of Gaza to Ireland.

When piles and piles of people are apathetic when it comes to the genocide unfolding in Gaza, be the source of relief, hope, and support for the stranded helpless besieged people there. Astonishingly, our life in Gaza turned upside down in an instant?! We woke up one day to realize that a massive-scale war was to be launched against more than 2 million people in Gaza. My Facebook timeline was filled with countless posts in which Gazans publicly asked for forgiveness before their expected imminent mass murder. Can you imagine what it feels like reading all these scary posts and wondering if you should say a final 'Goodbye'?!

Then, Gazans ventured on their own version of Via Dolorosa (Way of Suffering) which included multiple forced displacements, acute life-threatening shortages of water and food, lost jobs, humiliation, mass destruction, injuries, and murder.

It is beyond shocking and sickening how desensitized our world has become to see all the horrifying images of children's body parts scattered everywhere and not lift a finger to stop this ruthless and inhumane genocide. I can say with all certitude on behalf of my people in Gaza that we have lost hope in all the vile desensitized regimes and politicians of the world.

However, we still have strong faith in the lovers and supporters of our just cause who never cease to shower us with their heartwarming words of support and uplifting wishes. Our belief in your humanity and support for our just cause drives us to ask you for help in this worst crisis in our history since the Nakba.

Please do consider donating, reblogging, and sharing.

Note: Vetted by:

1. @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi # 151 on the spreadsheet of Vetted Gaza Fundraisers List]

2. @riding-with-the-wild-hunt Here .

Tagging for reach <3

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @ibtisams @vakarians-babe @90-ghost @sayruq @fairuzfan @sar-soor @fallahifag

@el-shab-hussein @taamarrud @humanvoicebox

@plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @commissions4aid-international @nabulsi @stil-lindigo @soon-palestine @communistchilchuck @palestinegenocide @northgazaupdates2 @northgazaupdates @ghost-and-a-half @kyra45-helping-others @kyra45 @commissions4aid-international @feluka @appsa

@tortiefrancis @jinnazah @irhabiya @mazzikah

@stuckinapril @schoolhater @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @turian @ot3 @fromjannah

@neechees @brutalikhoa @khanger @malcriada

@determinate-negation @pcktknife @postanagramgenerator

@troythecatfish @commissions4aid-international

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dreaisgrayte · 8 months ago

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Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3

“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?

He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair.

It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another.

Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though.

When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him.

“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger.

You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you.

Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt.

Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick.

Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you.

“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.

—

The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush.

It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons.

You worked under a beautiful oiran, and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant.

Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his.

He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears.

You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink.

“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand.

You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that.

Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō.

She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you.

The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him.

He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question.

You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily.

His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him.

You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier.

A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life.

He tears your yukata to shreds, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.

Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? This was fresh cut blood, not from the dues women endured every month. He needed to find you, or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger, and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body.

Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was.

The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?

With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger.

It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cock into your pretty tight pussy.

“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap.

“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs.

He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap.

You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing.

“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast.

“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure.

He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin.

Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls.

Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body.

Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched.

Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness.

The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high.

“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples.

Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth.

“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly.

Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.”

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours.

Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans.

He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!”

Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval.

“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut.

“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back.

You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips.

“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction.

Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.

Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm.

“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you.

This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.

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