#he needs to know the struggle of making sure your kid is not lost or drowning or both
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ssa-danhotchner · 2 days ago
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please i need a least angstier version of happier maybe reader has to go to a mision like s7 aaron in pakistan a he sees how much he really misses her
What we left behind | Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader
note: I tried my best, I hope you like it!
english isn't my first language so please be kind
cw: BAU reader, beth is in here, angst, regret, past relationship struggles, unspoken feelings
wc: 1.5k maybe?
It wasn’t like you hated Beth.
She was kind, warm, and approachable—the kind of woman people gravitated toward without hesitation. She seemed good for Aaron, too. For all his years of shielding himself, she brought out something softer in him. When you saw them together, he smiled more. He laughed in a way that had felt rare, almost forgotten.
But watching them together hurt in a way you hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t jealousy exactly. It was grief.
Grief for what you and Aaron had been, for what you thought you might have been.
He was the one who ended it, after all.
You remembered the night so clearly it still stung, like a bruise you kept accidentally pressing. He’d invited you over, his voice softer than usual on the phone. At first, you thought nothing of it. But when you arrived, the heaviness in the air made your stomach twist.
Aaron wasn’t one to stumble over his words, but that night he did. “You mean the world to me,” he’d said, his voice breaking slightly. “But I can’t give you the life you deserve.”
You’d stared at him, stunned. “What are you talking about? We’re fine.”
“No, we’re not,” he said quietly, looking at you like it physically pained him. “You deserve someone who can be there for you, who isn’t constantly distracted by the job, who can give you all the things I can’t. And I... I can’t keep holding you back.”
His words shattered something in you. “I didn’t ask for perfect, Aaron. I asked for you.”
He closed his eyes, his jaw tight, and shook his head. “You’ll see, one day, that this is what’s best.”
You didn’t fight him after that. You couldn’t. And maybe some part of you even believed he was right. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.
--
For months, you carried that pain with you like a shadow. You buried yourself in work, throwing yourself into cases until you were so exhausted you couldn’t think about anything else.
It helped, a little.
But then Beth showed up.
The team was supportive of Aaron’s new relationship, of course. They were profilers—they could see how happy Beth made him, and they teased him lightly about it. Even Rossi, who had a knack for keeping things professional, cracked a joke now and then about Aaron’s “smiling problem.”
You played along, smiling and laughing at the right moments, even as it chipped away at you.
“You okay?” Emily asked one day, catching you lingering at the coffee machine longer than usual.
“Yeah, fine” you replied quickly, avoiding her eyes.
Emily didn’t press, but the look she gave you made it clear she didn’t buy it.
---
When the opportunity to work with the State Department in Pakistan came up, you jumped at it. The mission would take you halfway across the world for months, giving you the distance you desperately needed from Aaron, Beth, and the suffocating reminders of what you’d lost.
“It’s a great opportunity” you told the team, forcing a smile as you shared the news during a team meeting.
Morgan gave you a skeptical look. “You sure about this, kid? Seems... sudden.”
“I’m sure,” you said firmly.
Rossi, always perceptive, gave you a knowing look but said nothing.
Aaron, however, was harder to read. He’d been quiet during the meeting, his dark eyes flicking to you now and then, but he didn’t say a word.
Later, as the team dispersed, he stopped you outside the conference room.
“You’re really going?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral.
“I am,” you replied, meeting his gaze.
He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “You didn’t mention you were thinking about this.”
“I didn’t think it mattered,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.
Aaron flinched slightly, his jaw tightening. “Of course it matters.”
You sighed, softening your tone. “Look, this is a good opportunity for me. I need... a change.”
His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he nodded. “Be careful,” he said quietly.
---
Pakistan was everything you expected and more. The work was intense, the days long, and the challenges endless. But it was exactly what you needed. The distance, the change in pace, the focus on something new—it all helped you start to piece yourself back together.
And yet, there were nights when the loneliness crept in, catching you off guard. You missed the team. You missed Garcia’s bright enthusiasm, Morgan’s playful teasing, JJ’s steady calm.
You missed Aaron.
You told yourself you didn’t have the right to miss him, not after everything. But you couldn’t help it. You missed the way he grounded you, the quiet strength he carried even in the hardest moments.
---
Back in Quantico, Aaron found himself drifting. The bullpen felt emptier without you, and he hated how often he caught himself looking at your desk, expecting to see you there.
He tried to focus on work, on Jack, on his relationship with Beth. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the nagging emptiness you’d left behind.
Beth noticed, of course. She was too perceptive not to.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” she said one evening as they sat on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand.
“I’ve just been busy,” he replied, though they both knew it wasn’t the whole truth.
Beth studied him for a moment before setting her glass down. “It’s because she’s gone, isn’t it?”
He froze, his heart skipping a beat.
Beth sighed, setting her wine glass down. “I’ve always felt like I was competing with someone who wasn’t even here.”
“I’m sorry,” Aaron said quietly, his throat tightening.
“I know you care about me, Aaron,” Beth said gently. “But it’s not enough, is it?”
He looked at her, guilt and regret twisting in his chest. “You deserve better than this. Better than me.”
Beth nodded, her eyes sad but understanding. “And so does she.”
---
When you returned to Quantico, the familiarity was both comforting and suffocating. The bullpen buzzed with the usual energy—Garcia’s colorful office lights glowed from the corner, Morgan leaned casually against Spence's desk, and Rossi greeted you with his characteristic warmth. But despite the smiles and hugs, there was a lingering sense of unease.
You tried to shake it off. You were home now, and that was what mattered.
But then you saw Aaron.
He stood at the far end of the bullpen, just outside his office, his dark eyes locked on you. The usual stoicism in his expression faltered as you met his gaze, something softer, almost hesitant, bleeding through.
Your breath caught in your chest. It had been months since you last saw him, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all. He looked the same—polished suit, perfect posture, the slight furrow of his brow that you’d memorized years ago.
He started walking toward you, his steps slow and deliberate. You tried to prepare yourself for the moment, but when he finally stopped in front of you, the carefully constructed walls around your heart wavered.
“Welcome back,” he said softly, his voice carrying a gravity that made your pulse race.
“Thanks,” you replied, forcing a small smile, though your throat felt tight.
There was a beat of silence. The bullpen buzzed with life around you, but all you could focus on was him—the way his eyes lingered on your face, the way he seemed like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.
“Can we talk?” he asked finally, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.
You hesitated. Part of you wanted to say no, to protect yourself from whatever this conversation might bring. But the way he looked at you—vulnerable and intent—made it impossible to refuse.
“Yeah,” you said quietly.
He led you to his office, holding the door open for you before closing it behind him. The sound of the latch clicking seemed to echo, amplifying the tension in the room.
You stood awkwardly near the desk while he lingered by the door, as if trying to keep some distance between you.
“How was it?” he asked, gesturing vaguely. “Pakistan, I mean.”
“It was... intense” you admitted. “Challenging, but good. It gave me a lot to think about.”
He nodded, his jaw tightening as he seemed to weigh his next words. “I’m glad you’re back.”
“Thanks” you said again, the word feeling hollow on your tongue. You couldn’t take the tension anymore. “Aaron, what did you want to talk about?”
His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and when he finally looked at you, his eyes were heavy with regret.
“I owe you an apology” he said, his voice low and rough.
You blinked, startled. “An apology? For what?”
“For walking away” he said, stepping closer. His gaze held yours, steady but full of something you couldn’t quite name. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought letting you go would... would give you the chance to find someone better, someone who could give you what I couldn’t.”
Your heart clenched painfully at his words, but before you could respond, he continued.
“But I was wrong” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt both of us. And every day you were gone, I felt it—I felt how wrong I was.”
You stared at him, your mind racing. “Aaron, I—”
“I missed you” he interrupted, taking another step closer. “Every day you were gone, I missed you. And I realized that I’d rather spend my life trying to be enough for you than spend another day without you.”
Tears blurred your vision, but you blinked them away, trying to process his words.
“You ended it” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You told me I deserved better.”
“I thought I was doing the selfless thing,” he admitted, his expression pained. “But all I did was rob us of the chance to fight for what we had. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
The rawness in his voice cracked something open inside you.
“Aaron, I...” You trailed off, shaking your head as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I don’t even know what to say.”
He stepped closer again, closing the remaining distance between you. “You don’t have to say anything. Just... tell me if there’s still a chance. If there’s even a small part of you that still feels the same way.”
His vulnerability was overwhelming. This was Aaron Hotchner—the man who never wavered, never let his guard down. And yet here he was, standing before you, baring his heart.
“I missed you too” you admitted finally, your voice breaking. “But I don’t know if I can do this again. I don’t know if I can survive losing you a second time.”
“You won’t” he said firmly, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I swear to you, I won’t let you down again. I’ll fight for this—for us. Every day, if I have to.”
The sincerity in his voice, the way his dark eyes held yours, left you breathless.
And in that moment, you realized something: you still loved him. You always had.
Slowly, you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. His breath hitched at the contact, but he didn’t pull away.
“Okay” you said softly, your voice trembling but sure. “Let’s try again.”
Aaron’s shoulders sagged with relief, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes.
And as he squeezed your hand, you felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.
---
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active-mind-15 · 9 months ago
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Masaomi being too strict of a father with the activities his son did led to him not experiencing the canon dad event of trying to keep your family together at a theme park in this essay I will—
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mariasont · 7 months ago
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TEDIUM - S.R
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a/n: found this dress on pinterest and just needed to write something about it
masterlist
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pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader
summary: spencer is not having the best time at the FBI Gala, well, until you show up
warnings: just cuties being cute, spencer swooning, maybe suggestive if you squint, spencer asks out bimbo reader!!
wc: 1.1k
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Spencer was bored, more than bored, he was tedium. The word, meaning a dullness in routine, had come to him during a lecture about the history of timekeeping, illustrating the repetitive tick of a clock which can lead to such a state.
That is what he felt like, like the monotone ticking of a clock was more consistent with a sonic boom bouncing off the walls of his brain. His hand was wrapped around a beer, not his typical drink of choice, but the stale surroundings seemed to demand a departure from his usual routine.
To anyone else, the surroundings would have been anything but stale. The air vibrated with music, elegant attire sparkled under the light, important people exchanged pleasantries, and drinks flowed like rivers. However, Spencer found himself disengaged, the usual allure of the FBI Gala eluding him, leaving him feeling oddly detached.
At his elbow, Penelope was sipping on something pink, the glass seemingly more decorative than practical. She was talking about something, something about how she wished Morgan was here and how he'd love the dress she was wearing. But Spencer's mind was elsewhere, locked on the door, his body immobilized by a sudden alertness.
The frothy concoction of pastels and ruffles you often wore were nowhere to be seen tonight. He felt as if his whole body was reprogramming itself as you descended the stairs, the green fabric of your dress seemed to flow like water, the peaks and swells of your body calling to him in a language that his rational mind struggled to ignore.
Your smile reached him before you did, the apple of your cheeks straining with a grin so effortlessly bright. You waved at him, your gold-heeled feet gliding across the floor towards him. Time seemed to slow. His fingers tightened around the beer, the chill of the condensation battling the warmth spreading across his brow. He wanted to memorize you, taking a mental screenshot that might come in handy later.
"Oh my gosh, look at the two of you!" Juggling your matching purse, you managed to slide it under your arm, freeing your hands to wrap Penelope in a hug.
Your hands then moved to Spencer, arms looping around his neck. He took a beat, his beer finding its place on the counter, before his hands settled on your waist, pulling you close. The sweet scent of coconut wafted from your hair, intoxicating him in a way that made him reluctant to let go. But he restrained himself, allowing you to be the one to draw back first.
"Makes a girl feel a little outshone." You were joking, he knew that, but he still couldn't help to reassure you.
"You look beautiful."
He caught the hint of a smile you were holding back, feeling it in the way your hand clasped his. You mumbled a thanks, so faint it was almost lost, uncharacteristic for you.
"Are you kidding? You look like a goddess. I feel like I should be asking for your autograph," Penelope gushed, her hands dramatically gesturing to you.
It was impossible for Spencer not to notice the way your hand didn't leave his, fingers laced together naturally, your thumb moving in soft strokes. His heart was failing, he was sure.
Penelope's attention was drawn to where Spencer's focus lay, eyebrows shooting up. A knowing grin pulled at her lips as she looked between you. "Oh my, I totally spaced that I was supposed to meet up with Luke! You guys will be okay without me, right? Hugs and kisses, I'll be back!"
Spencer laughed, his free hand reaching for his discarded beer, lifting it to his lips in an attempt to counter the heat coursing through him.
It didn't. Not with you so close, touching him. He was putty in your hands.
"Is it, like, super weird seeing me outside of work hours?" you asked, dropping his hand as you reached to dig inside your purse, signaling for the bartender. "It's like bumping into your dentist at a party—doesn't really happen."
As you ordered your drink, Spencer was already in motion, intercepting with his own card.
"I've got it," he insisted. "And yeah, it's a bit unusual, but a good kind of unusual."
"Thanks, Spence. Next one's on me." He definitely wasn't going to let that happen. You swivel the face him with a cherry-topped drink in hand. "I totally agree, it's the best kind of unusual. We should do it more often."
"Yeah, we should," he replied, the word floating on a shaky breath.
The opportunity was there, ripe as the cherry you were now teasing with your tongue. The question, however, refused to materialize, trapped as he watched your tongue slide over the fruit as it were second nature.
You didn't even realize what you were doing, looking up at him with a pure innocence, but somehow as if you knew he was toying with the idea of asking you out. 
The intimate bubble that had formed around you two burst suddenly when Emily called out. You turned sharply, inadvertently pressing flush against Spencer as you tried to pinpoint her voice.
Spencer's muscles tensed, his arm instinctively finding the curve of your waist in an effort to steady both himself and you. Your hand lifted in a wave, presumably to Emily, while your other hand found a place on his bicep.
"I'm pretty sure Emily wants us over there," you mentioned casually, making no move to distance yourself or approach Emily.
Spencer's response was a nod, his eyes drinking in your face—the lushness of your lashes, the specks of color in your eyes, the gentle slope of your nose, the swell of your lips—each feature distinctly yours.
"Let me take you on a date." It was as if the phrase had a life of its own, announced from a version of Spencer that even he didn't recognize.
Your mouth, glossed in pink, paused mid-motion, opening slightly. "Like an actual date-date? I'd love to go on a date with you. I've been not-so-patiently waiting for you to ask."
The thumping of his heart was loud in his ear, his cheeks tinged with pink as you looped your arm through his. "You have?"
You let out a laugh, the kind that bubbled up effortlessly and seemed to warm the pit of his stomach. He was sure the team's eyes were on the two of you, but he wasn't sure if he cared.
"Oh, totally! Probably since my first day when you had the meeting with Chief Cruz. I was like, wow he's smart and cute."
The ticking of the clock seemed irrelevant now. Spencer realized that the tedium he felt might not have been a symptom of the event but the absence of you. Now, with your arm linked in his, everything felt like it took on a new hue, brighter and thrilling, as if the clock had been reset. 
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pucksandpower · 10 months ago
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Live Like We Want To
Charles Leclerc x Wolff!Reader x Lewis Hamilton
Summary: there’s only one thing harder than keeping a relationship between two of the paddock’s most prominent figures hidden 
 keeping a relationship between three of the paddock’s most prominent figures hidden
Warnings: 18+ content
Based on this request
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The drivers settle on the awkwardly shaped white couch, microphones clipped carefully to the collars of their shirts, waiting for the pre-race press conference to begin.
Lewis fiddles with his Mercedes cap, lost in thought. Lando and Daniel banter back and forth, Lando ribbing Daniel about his recent attempts to be artsy on Instagram and Daniel giving as good as he gets.
The moderator steps up to begin the press conference. After a few standard questions about the track and the upgrades the teams have brought, it’s time for the driver questions.
A reporter looks over at Lewis. “Lewis, you and Y/N seem very close lately. There’s been speculation you two might be dating. What do you say about that?”
Lewis opens his mouth but before he can respond, Daniel jumps in. “Oh come on, we all know Lewis is way too old for Y/N! She needs someone younger and spicier.” He winks at the camera.
Lando chuckles. “Too right, mate. Y/N deserves a fun guy who actually knows how to have a good time, not someone almost eligible for a senior discount.”
Lewis forces out a rehearsed laugh. “Hey now, I’m not that old!”
“Face it, the age gap is just too much. She needs someone closer to her own age, like me!” Lando says with a grin.
“You?” Daniel scoffs. “Please, Y/N needs a real man to show her a good time, not some baby-faced kid.”
“Who are you calling a kid?” Lando shoots back. “I’m mature for my age!”
Max, who has been quiet up until now, suddenly pipes up. “Actually, I think Y/N and I would make a great match ...”
The other drivers swivel their heads to look at him. “You?” Daniel says in disbelief.
“Why not?” Max shrugs. “We’ve got a connection.”
Lewis grits his teeth, struggling to stay quiet. He wants to tell them all to back off, that you’re taken. But he knows he can’t reveal the truth about your relationship, as much as it pains him to stay silent.
Lando laughs. “Mate, she’s way out of your league!”
“Oh yeah? I could get her if I wanted to,” Max says defensively.
Daniel grins and claps Max on the back. “Ooh, those are fighting words! You don’t stand a chance.”
Max crosses his arms. “Maybe she likes a bad boy. I’m more exciting than any of you.”
“Exciting? You?” Lando pretends to yawn. “All you ever think about off the track is sim racing! That’s not exciting, it’s dull.”
“Hey! Sim racing is very intense and takes a lot of skill,” Max says indignantly.
Lewis has finally had enough. “Alright guys, maybe we should change the subject. I’m sure Y/N can decide for herself who she wants to spend time with, without all of us bickering over her.”
Lando ignores Lewis and looks back at Max, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I bet I could get Y/N to go out with me before you can.”
“You’re so on!” Max says.
Daniel shakes his head. “Woah now, let’s leave the poor girl out of your competition. Especially since neither of you have a chance anyway.”
“Oh really? I suppose you think you’re the obvious choice?” Max says sarcastically.
“Obviously!” Daniel replies with a cocky grin.
As the three younger drivers continue with their posturing, Lewis pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. He catches the moderator’s eye and nods, signaling it’s time to move on.
The moderator clears his throat. “Alright, next question ...”
After the press conference ends, Lewis hurriedly gathers his things. As he’s walking out of the media center, Max catches up to him.
“No hard feelings about all that, mate?” Max says sheepishly.
Lewis musters up a smile. “Of course not. It was all in good fun.”
“Cool.” Max nods. “For what it’s worth, I don’t actually have a thing for Y/N. I was just messing around back there.”
“I know, I know,” Lewis says, clapping Max just a tad too hard on the shoulder before turning to go. Over his shoulder he calls out, “May the best man win!”
Max laughs and shakes his head as Lewis walks away.
Lewis enters the Mercedes garage and immediately spots you chatting with the engineers. His heart skips a beat like it always does when he sees you. A vision in a crop top and skinny jeans, your hair cascading over your shoulders as you lean over a data sheet, nodding intently.
So beautiful.
You glance up and spot Lewis. Your face lights up, a radiant smile spreading across it. Lewis grins back, the stress of the press conference fading away.
He waits until you’re done talking to the engineers, then pulls you discreetly aside. In an empty meeting room, Lewis wraps you in a tight embrace.
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling your hair.
You cling to him. “I missed you. How was the press conference?”
Lewis hesitates. “It was 
 interesting.”
You pull back to look at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there were some questions about us. Our relationship.”
Your eyes widen. “What did you say?”
“Nothing! Don’t worry, I didn’t reveal anything. But the other drivers jumped in with their opinions.”
You groan. “Do I even want to know?”
Lewis runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Well, apparently I’m way too old for you. Daniel, Lando, and Max all started competing over who would be your best match.”
You snort. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I know, I know,” Lewis says. “I wanted to tell them you’re mine, but ...”
“You did the right thing keeping quiet,” you say gently, taking his hands in yours. “We knew this wouldn’t be easy, keeping our relationship a secret.”
Lewis sighs. “I just hate not being able to claim you as my girlfriend in public. Having to pretend I don’t care when other guys flirt with you.”
You squeeze his hands supportively. “I know. But my dad would freak if he knew I was dating you. He’s so overprotective. And the press would have a field day if they found out Lewis Hamilton was seeing Toto Wolff’s daughter.”
“You’re right,” Lewis says. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
You smile softly at him. “Just think, one day we won’t have to hide anymore. We’ll be out and proud for the whole world to see.”
Lewis grins. “I look forward to that day.” He pauses, gazing at you tenderly. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper.
Lewis glances around quickly before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. All the stress and frustration of pretending melts away as your lips meet.
You come up for air a few moments later, both flushed. “We should get back before someone notices we’re gone,” you murmur.
Lewis nods reluctantly. “See you after quali?”
“Definitely.” You give him one more quick peck then slip out of the room, back to the bustle of the paddock.
Lewis watches you leave, his heart full.
One day there will be no more hiding. One day you’ll be free to share your love with the world.
He just has to be patient. You’re worth the wait.
***
You’re sitting outside of Mercedes hospitality between practice sessions, chatting with Mick Schumacher. Mick is eagerly telling you about his experience getting to take the W15 out in FP1 that morning when Charles Leclerc wanders over.
“Hello Y/N, Mick,” Charles says with an easy smile.
“Oh hey Charles, what’s up?” You say casually, hoping he makes this quick. Ever since that silly press conference, Charles has been popping up everywhere trying to get your attention.
“Not much. You’re looking beautiful as always,” Charles says, ignoring Mick and focusing his gaze on you.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Um, thanks?”
Mick glances between you two and starts to stand up. “I’ll give you guys some space.”
“No, stay!” You say quickly, grabbing Mick’s arm. You turn back to Charles. “Did you need something?”
“Just wanted to come say hi, see how you’re doing.” Charles drags over a chair and sits down close beside you. Too close.
You slide your chair away ever so slightly. “I’m fine, thanks. Just hanging with Mick.”
Charles nods, but his eyes stay fixed on you. “Have you given any more thought to grabbing dinner sometime? I know this great little restaurant in the city, very private and intimate.”
“That’s really nice of you, but I’ll have to pass,” you say politely. Mick looks back and forth between you two, a faint smirk on his face.
Charles pouts. “Come on, it would be fun! No pressure, just two friends enjoying a nice meal.”
You resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think you’re that naive? “Sorry Charles, but I’m going to be really busy this weekend. Raincheck?” You have no intention of ever taking him up on the offer, but maybe it will get him to back off for now.
“Playing hard to get? I like it,” Charles winks.
You bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying what you really think. Time for a subject change. “So, you feeling good about the race this weekend?”
Charles sighs, finally moving away from the topic of dating you. “I think the car has potential, but Red Bull are still the ones to beat.”
You nod. “Very true. They have been especially dominant here the past few years.”
“We’ll see what happens. Maybe I can get pole and shock them all,” Charles says with a smile.
You chat about racing for a few more minutes before glancing at your phone. “Oh shoot, I have to get going. Meeting with my manager.” You stand up quickly. “See you later Charles. Bye Mick!”
Charles grabs your hand as you start to walk away. “Leaving already? At least let me walk you to your garage.”
You pull your hand back, perhaps a bit too forcefully. “I’m fine, thanks. Stay and chat with Mick!” You give them a little wave before briskly walking off.
As you make your way through the paddock you hear footsteps behind you. Glancing back you see Charles jogging to catch up with you. You bite back a groan.
“Y/N, wait up!” Charles calls after you. He hurries to your side, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I just thought I should properly apologize for being so forward back there. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable.”
You stop walking and turn to face him. “It’s okay, Charles. I know you didn’t mean any harm.”
He looks relieved. “Good, I’m glad. The last thing I want is to upset you.” He shuffles his feet, looking down shyly. “I really do think you’re amazing, Y/N. Any guy would be so lucky to be with you.”
You soften a bit. As persistent as he is, you know Charles is a good guy at heart. “Thank you. I think you’ll find the right girl someday.”
“Well, I was rather hoping the right girl was standing in front of me now,” Charles says earnestly.
You shake your head. “Charles ...”
“I know, I’m being too bold again,” he says. “Please, just consider it? One dinner. If you hate it and never want to see me again, I’ll accept that.”
You hesitate. Maybe it would be easier to just go, let him down gently in person. But no 
 that’s too risky. If word got out it could compromise everything with Lewis. As much as you want to set Charles straight, you just have to keep playing hard to get.
“Like I said, just too busy right now,” you say firmly. “I should get to my meeting.”
Charles nods, looking slightly dejected. “Of course. Well, the offer stands. I’m not giving up that easily.” He smiles and heads off with a small wave.
Over the next two days Charles remains persistent, finding excuses to talk to you in the paddock and complimenting you endlessly on social media. You continue dodging his invitations, letting him down as gently as you can.
Sunday morning you’re doing a photoshoot for British Vogue, posing on the track. Charles happens to walk by as you’re finishing up. He saunters over and leans on the barrier, watching you intently. The photographer notices him hovering and suggests you take a quick picture together.
Charles immediately hops the barrier and throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. You plaster on a smile as the camera flashes.
“Beautiful! What an attractive couple,” the photographer gushes.
You extricate yourself from Charles’ grip. “We’re not 
 I mean we’re just friends,” you mutter.
“My mistake!” The photographer says. Charles just grins.
After the photoshoot ends you try to make a quick exit but Charles catches up and falls into step beside you.
“One picture together and we’re already mistaken for a couple! It must be a sign,” Charles says playfully.
You resist rolling your eyes again. “Clearly you’re not getting the message here. I’m not interested in anything beyond friendship.”
Charles just smiles wider. “Ah, but friendship is the basis for any lasting romance. I’m happy to start as friends and see where it goes.”
You stop walking and turn to him. Time for some straight talk. “Charles. Listen to me. I do not want to date you. At all. Please stop asking.”
Charles’ smile finally falters slightly. “I see. My apologies, I clearly misread the situation.”
You feel a twinge of guilt at his crestfallen face. “It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean any harm. Let’s just forget it and move on.”
Charles nods, looking thoughtful. For a moment you think maybe he’s finally going to back off. But after a pause he says, “Well, since romance is off the table for now, friendship it is.”
You stare at him in disbelief. Is this guy for real?
Oblivious to your incredulous expression, Charles just keeps talking. “The season’s almost over, but I look forward to seeing much more of you next year when Lewis is my new teammate.” He winks.
It takes you a second to process his words. When they sink in your eyes go wide. “Wait, Lewis is joining Ferrari next season?”
“Oh, has it not been announced yet?” Charles grins mischievously. “My mistake. Forget I said anything.”
You grab his arm. “Charles, tell me!”
He mimes zipping his lips.
You groan in frustration. “Ugh, fine. Keep your secret for now.” You’ll get the truth out of Lewis later.
Charles just smiles innocently. “See you around, friend.” He strolls off with a little wave, finally leaving you in peace.
You shake your head as you watch him go. Next year is sure to be interesting with Charles around. But you take comfort knowing that no matter what, you and Lewis can get through it together.
***
The 2025 season kicks off in Melbourne. You’re wandering the paddock under the bright Australian sun, dodging TV crews and trying not to get run over by the team scooters zipping every which way.
As you pass by the Ferrari garage you peek inside, spotting Lewis talking to some engineers. He glances up and meets your eye, giving you a subtle smile before returning to his conversation.
Your heart flutters at the sight of him. It’s been nonstop media obligations since arriving in Albert Park and you haven’t had a moment alone with Lewis yet. Between his big move to Ferrari and the speculation about your relationship, you’ve been the center of attention.
You linger nearby, hoping to snag a private moment with Lewis. As you hover just outside the garage you hear footsteps approaching. Glancing over you see Charles strolling up, looking effortlessly cool in his team kit.
“Well hello there,” Charles says with a grin. “Come to wish me luck before qualifying?”
You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “You caught me. I snuck over to send positive vibes your way.”
Charles chuckles. “I knew you couldn’t resist coming to see me.”
You shake your head amusedly. Same old Charles. “Actually I was looking for Lew-” you stop yourself just in time. “Um, just wandering around saying hi to everyone!”
Charles’ eyes gleam knowingly but he doesn’t call you out on your near slip-up. “Of course. We’re happy to have Lewis join the Ferrari family. Should be a fun season.”
You nod. “Definitely. I might have to frequent the Ferrari garage more often,” you add teasingly.
“You’ll always be welcome here,” Charles says. “In fact, there’s an open seat on my side of the garage. You’re more than welcome to join.” He smiles invitingly.
You hesitate, tempted despite yourself. Before you can respond you hear Lewis calling Charles from inside the garage.
“Charles! The debrief is starting soon, let’s go.”
Charles turns back to you with an exaggerated sigh. “Duty calls. But think about my offer, yeah? Plenty of races left this season for you to cheer on your favorite driver.” He winks before jogging into the garage.
You catch Lewis’ eye as Charles brushes past him. Lewis gives you a questioning look, silently asking if you’re okay. You smile reassuringly before blowing him a subtle kiss and walking away.
Over the next few races you find yourself spending more time with Ferrari than you expected. You tell yourself it’s just to support Lewis in his first season with a new team, but a small voice in your head whispers that it’s really to see Charles.
Despite your better judgment, you can’t deny enjoying Charles’ flirty banter and shameless pursuit of you. And clearly he doesn’t intend to back down now that Lewis is his teammate. If anything, Charles seems more determined than ever to win your affection.
By the time the Chinese Grand Prix rolls around, you’re dangerously close to having a full blown crush on Charles. Sitting in the Ferrari garage watching him joke around with the mechanics, you have to refrain from staring at him too obviously.
After qualifying, you wait around hoping Lewis or Charles have time to sneak away for a bit. You spot Lewis first and flag him down. He follows you to a secluded spot behind the paddock.
“Great lap today,” you say, rising on tiptoes to kiss him congratulations.
Lewis smiles against your lips but you can tell his mind is elsewhere. “Thanks love. Listen, can we talk?”
You pull back, brow furrowing in concern. “Of course, what’s up?”
Lewis runs a hand over his face. “I wanted to ask how you’re feeling about this whole situation with Charles.”
You tense up slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And if I’m being honest 
 I’ve noticed some looks going the other direction as well.” Lewis keeps his voice neutral and non-accusatory.
You bite your lip. No point lying to him. “I’m sorry. I tried to ignore him at first but he’s just so charming and persistent. I swear nothing has happened between us though!” You add hastily.
Lewis rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “I believe you, don’t worry. But it seems there might be some mutual attraction there, even if you haven’t acted upon it. I think we should discuss that openly.”
You nod slowly. As nerve wracking as this conversation is, you appreciate Lewis’ calm approach. No jealousy or accusations, just honest communication.
“You’re right,” you say. “I’ve been trying really hard not to, but I can’t deny feeling drawn to Charles.” You look down, ashamed to admit it out loud.
Lewis lifts your chin gently. “Hey, it’s okay. Emotions aren’t always rational. I’m not upset with you.”
You smile gratefully. “You’re the best, you know that? What did I do to deserve someone so understanding?”
“Just got lucky I guess,” Lewis says with a wink, making you laugh. His expression turns serious again. “But we should figure out what to do moving forward. Any ideas?”
You take a deep breath. Time to put all cards on the table. “Well, there is one possibility. But it’s a bit unconventional ...”
Lewis raises his eyebrows. “I’m open to anything. What were you thinking?”
You rush out your words before you lose your nerve. “What if we brought Charles into the relationship? As in, invited him to be with us?”
Lewis’ eyes widen in surprise but he doesn’t immediately shoot down the suggestion. “You mean the three of us, together? Huh.”
He looks thoughtful. You fidget nervously awaiting his verdict. This could make or break everything.
Finally Lewis meets your anxious gaze. “I admit that’s not what I was envisioning 
 but I’m not opposed to at least exploring it.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. “Really? You’d be open to trying?”
Lewis nods slowly. “If we all discussed it openly and set clear boundaries, I would consider it. I want you to be happy, Y/N. Even if that means expanding our relationship.”
You throw your arms around him. “Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to have your support with this.”
Lewis hugs you tight. “Of course, love. We’re in this together.”
You chat excitedly about the possibility of bringing Charles into your private world. It’s risky, but maybe just crazy enough to work.
“Why don’t we invite him up to the penthouse tonight and see how the chemistry is?” Lewis suggests.
Your pulse quickens at the thought. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Lewis kisses you softly. “Alright then, it’s a date. I think you should go talk to Charles.”
Tonight will determine if you move forward as a trio or close the door on this tantalizing new dynamic. Either way, you’re grateful to be exploring it together with the man you love.
***
You smooth down your dress for the tenth time, nerves and excitement warring within you.
Tonight’s the night.
Taking a deep breath, you glance around the penthouse one more time. Candles cast a soft glow, music plays quietly in the background, and wine chills on the counter. Time to see if this fantasy can become a reality.
Lewis emerges from the bedroom looking unfairly hot, designer shirt hugging his muscular frame. He wraps you in his arms from behind, meeting your anxious gaze in the floor-length mirror.
“You ready for this, love?” He asks, lips brushing your neck.
You shiver and lean back into him. “I think so. Are you sure you’re okay with it though? We can call it off if you’ve changed your mind.”
Lewis smiles reassuringly. “I haven’t. We’ll take it slow and see how it feels. No pressure.”
You smile back gratefully. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”
“Mm, feel free to say it more,” Lewis teases, making you giggle. He kisses you tenderly. “Let’s do this.”
Right on cue, the doorbell rings. You and Lewis exchange one more weighted look before going to answer it.
You open the door to find Charles standing there, looking ridiculously handsome as always. His eyes widen almost comically as he sees Lewis over your shoulder.
“Lewis! What are you doing here?” Charles stammers out.
You bite your lip to hide a smile. “Why don’t you come in?”
Still looking baffled, Charles steps inside. You lead him to the sleek living room, Charles glancing around in confusion.
“Have a seat,” Lewis says kindly. Charles perches on the edge of the grey suede couch, visibly wondering what the hell is going on. You and Lewis sit across from him on the loveseat.
“So 
 is one of you going to explain what’s happening?” Charles asks slowly.
You look to Lewis. “Maybe you should start?”
Lewis nods and turns to Charles. “Right, so I’m sure you’re very confused about all this. But there’s something Y/N and I need to tell you.”
He reaches over and takes your hand. You give it a supportive squeeze.
“Y/N and I are together. Romantically,” Lewis reveals. “We’ve been dating in secret for over two years now.”
Charles’ eyes bug out of his head. “You two are 
 WHAT? Since when?”
“Since midway through the 2022 season,” you explain gently.
“But 
 but ...” Charles splutters. He looks between you and Lewis, dumbfounded. It would be comical if you weren’t so nervous.
“I know this must be shocking to hear,” you say. “We’ve had to keep it very quiet.”
Charles drags a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand. If you’re together, why am I here?”
You glance at Lewis. “Go on,” he says with an encouraging nod.
You turn back to Charles. “Well, the thing is 
 we’re very attracted to you too, Charles.”
Charles freezes, eyes zeroing in on you. “You 
 you are?” He whispers.
You nod, holding his gaze. “I tried to ignore it, but I have feelings for you. And Lewis and I have discussed exploring what it would be like if the three of us 
 were together.”
Charles just stares, mouth agape. You start to worry you’ve broken him.
“Charles?” You prompt gently. “Thoughts?”
Charles visibly shakes himself. “I just 
 I need a minute here,” he mutters. He puts his head in his hands, taking a few deep breaths.
You nod understandingly and fall silent, letting the information sink in. After a tense minute, Charles lifts his head.
“So you two want to try some kind of 
 polyamorous relationship? With me as your shared boyfriend?”
“Only if you’re interested,” Lewis clarifies. “We know it’s unconventional.”
Charles chews his lip thoughtfully. “And you would be okay sharing her?” He asks Lewis.
Lewis squeezes your hand. “It’s not about possessing her. It’s about all of us wanting to explore something together. I trust you both.”
Your heart swells with love for this incredible man. Charles looks touched as well.
“I appreciate you putting your trust in me,” Charles says earnestly. “This is a lot to process but 
 I’m open to trying.” He looks between you and Lewis. “I want this. If you’ll have me.”
Joy and arousal flood your body hearing those words. You glance at Lewis to confirm.
He smiles. “We want you, Charles.”
Charles’ eyes darken. He stands up from the couch and closes the distance between you. Gazing down at you, he brushes his fingers along your jaw. “Can I kiss you?” He asks softly.
You nod, heart hammering in your chest. Charles’ hand slides into your hair and he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is electric, your body lighting up everywhere you touch.
After a dizzying minute you break apart, flushed and breathless. Charles rests his forehead against yours, his eyes burning.
“I want you,” he whispers. “I want this.”
Your pulse racing, you turn and pull Lewis into a passionate kiss. You pour all your need and love into it, leaving no doubt that you want him just as much.
Lewis’ eyes are dark when you separate. Without a word, he stands and holds his hand out to Charles. Charles takes it immediately. They stare at each other for a weighted moment before Lewis reels him in for a searing kiss.
You can only watch, utterly mesmerized by the sight of the two gorgeous men exploring each other. They kiss aggressively, hands roaming over backs and arms. Finally they break apart, panting.
Charles turns to you, eyes blazing. In two strides he’s kneeling before you, hands on your thighs.
“Tell me you want this,” he rasps out. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I want this. I want this so much,” you affirm breathlessly.
Charles surges up to capture your lips again. Lewis moves behind you, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders. Sandwiched between them, you’ve never felt more alive.
You have a fleeting thought that you should slow down, take things step by step. But as their hands and lips worship your body, reason melts away.
Tonight you’ll explore each other fully and forge this new bond that transcends convention. Tomorrow you can discuss logistics.
Charles kisses you hungrily while Lewis deftly unzips your dress, letting it slip to the floor. His hands glide over your newly exposed skin as Charles trails kisses down your neck to your lace-clad breasts.
Lewis reaches around to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts to Charles’ eager mouth. You gasp and arch into his touch as his tongue swirls around one nipple, then the other.
Lewis captures your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans of pleasure. His hands roam your body, caressing your hips and rear before slipping into your panties. You keen against his mouth as his fingers find your slick heat.
Charles kisses his way down your trembling body until he’s kneeling before you. Locking eyes with you, he slowly peels off your panties. Lewis moves behind you, arms wrapped around you, hands still working their magic between your legs.
Charles parts your thighs and dives in hungrily. You cry out at the feeling of his mouth on you, the dual sensations pushing you quickly to the edge. Your pleasured screams echo through the penthouse as you come undone between these two incredible men.
They lay you gently on the plush rug, hands and mouths continuing to ignite fires across your hypersensitive skin. You reach for them frantically, needing to feel them too. Together you undress them with eager hands until all three of you are bare and flushed with need.
Lewis kisses his way down your body until his head is between your legs, stubble scratching deliciously against your inner thighs. His talented tongue gets to work, licking and sucking your sensitive bud as you grasp his braids, back arching off the rug.
Charles moves up your body to take a hard nipple in his mouth, fingers tweaking and plucking the other. The near-overstimulation makes you see stars, crying out louder as Lewis’ fingers join his mouth in driving you to euphoria.
As you come down from your high, panting and trembling, Charles captures your lips in a messy kiss. You taste yourself and your favorite body oil on his tongue as he grinds his hard length against your hip. Guiding him up further, you take him in your mouth eagerly, reveling in his groans of pleasure.
Lewis slides up behind you, hardness nudging your entrance. He pushes into you slowly, filling you up exquisitely. You moan around Charles in your mouth as Lewis sets a steady rhythm. Charles’ eyes are nearly black watching Lewis take you from behind.
Charles gently pulls out of your mouth, moving down to kiss Lewis passionately. Their tongues tangle as Lewis continues rocking into you. The erotic sight makes you clench around Lewis. Sensing you’re close, he reaches around to circle your clit until you shatter again.
As you float back down, Lewis slips out from behind you and lays on his back. You straddle him eagerly, taking him back inside your slick heat. Charles moves in behind you, grasping your hips. Feeling his tip brush your back entrance, you glance back and nod consent.
Charles pushes into your other hole slowly as Lewis praises you for taking them both so well. Sandwiched between their hard bodies, filled so exquisitely, you feel worshipped and desired. They find a synchronized rhythm, driving you higher until you’re screaming out your pleasure again.
Lewis follows you over the edge, your pulsing muscles milking him dry with a growl. Charles takes over, pounding into you relentlessly until he stills, spilling deep inside with a choked cry.
You collapse together in a satisfied, breathless tangle of limbs. Trading soft kisses and caresses, you bask in the afterglow of this new bond forged in passion. Staring into your boys’ sated eyes, you know you’ve found something extraordinary.
For now, you are content to let passion consume you, losing yourself in two sets of hands, two mouths worshipping every inch of you.
Tomorrow can wait. Tonight, your world has expanded to make room for three.
***
The new season is in full swing and your blossoming relationship could not be going better. Stealing moments alone is a challenge, but the time you spend together makes it all worthwhile.
The only downside is how difficult it is for Charles to hide his feelings for you in public. While Lewis has had practice concealing your relationship for years now, Charles is still learning restraint. His affection for you shines through in lingering looks and subtle touches that don’t go unnoticed.
During one pre-race press conference, things come to a head. You’re standing just off stage, watching proudly as Charles and Lewis field questions.
A reporter looks over at Charles. “Charles, we’ve noticed Y/N hanging around the Ferrari garage a lot this season. Any insight into why the daughter of the Mercedes team principal spends so much time with your team instead?”
Charles tenses, panic flashing across his face. Before he can respond, Pierre Gasly pipes up from the end of the table.
“She’s always welcome to spend time with Alpine too!” Pierre says with a playful wink your direction. “Our garage door is open for you anytime, chĂ©rie.”
Charles’ hand clenches into a fist under the table. You can see him biting his tongue, holding back from saying that you’re taken.
Lewis discretely reaches over and lays a calming hand on Charles’ arm. Charles takes a deep breath, the brief touch grounding him.
“Y/N is friends with many drivers, not just myself,” Charles says evenly. “She offers encouragement to everyone on the grid.”
You let out the breath you’d been holding. Crisis averted, for now. But the reporters look unsatisfied with Charles’ generic response.
One speaks up again. “Come on Charles, you two seem especially close lately. Anything you want to tell us about the nature of your relationship?”
Charles’ eyes flick towards you. He opens his mouth but hesitates.
Lewis jumps in. “Like Charles said, Y/N is a supportive friend to all the drivers. We’re lucky to have her around.” He steers the conversation to less dangerous waters and the questions about you cease.
After the press conference, Charles makes a beeline for you. Taking your hands, he searches your face anxiously.
“I’m so sorry. I nearly slipped up and exposed everything. I just couldn’t stand Pierre flirting with you like that.”
You smile reassuringly, touched by his protectiveness. “It’s okay, you stopped yourself in time. I know it’s not easy.”
Lewis joins you two in your hidden corner. He squeezes Charles’ shoulder comfortingly. “You handled it well, babe. I know firsthand how hard it is to stay silent.”
Charles sighs. “I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long. Lying about the woman I lo-” He stops himself. “About someone so important is torture.”
Your heart skips a beat. Lewis meets your gaze, equally affected by Charles’ unspoken words.
Taking Charles’ face in your hands, you kiss him sweetly. “I’m so lucky to have not just one, but two incredible men willing to go through all this for my sake. I promise, it won’t be forever.”
Charles relaxes into your touch. Lewis moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head. Charles covers Lewis’ hands with his own. The three of you share a quiet, tender moment before stepping back out into the bustle of race day.
That evening after the race, the three of you finally have time alone back at the hotel. Lewis pours champagne while you massage the tension from Charles’ shoulders.
“What Pierre said today was out of line,” you murmur. “But you have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours, in every way that matters.” You press a kiss to his neck.
Charles twists to capture your lips. “I know. It just drives me crazy seeing other men try to take what’s mine.” His tone is playful yet possessive in a way that makes you shiver.
“Let them flirt all they want,” Lewis says, handing Charles a glass of champagne. “She only has eyes for us.”
You and Charles both smile at Lewis’ quiet confidence. Taking your glass, you raise it in a toast. “To the apples of my eye. Here’s to a long future together.”
You clink glasses and sip, eyes locking over the rims. Setting your glass aside, you take each of their hands in yours.
“I know keeping this secret isn’t easy. But it will be so worth it in the end, when we can stop hiding and be together openly. We just have to be patient a little longer.”
Lewis squeezes your hand, emotion shining in his eyes. “You’re worth the wait, darling.”
Charles cradles your face adoringly. “A thousand times over.”
Your heart swells being surrounded by such unwavering love and support. Despite the challenges, in this moment, everything feels exactly as it should.
The rest of the night is spent getting lost in each other, reaffirming the bonds between you. Fingers intertwined, bodies moving as one, you bask in the oasis you’ve created amidst the pressures of your public lives.
Tomorrow you’ll go back to pretending, dodging prying questions and curious stares. But here, cocooned in this hotel room, you’re simply three people entwined by love. Partners promising without words to stand united until the day your relationship can step into the light.
For now, secrecy is a small price to pay for a love unlike any other.
***
The azure waters of the Mediterranean glisten under the Sardinian sun as you lounge on the deck of the yacht. Lewis rubs sunscreen slowly over your shoulders, his touch sending tingles through your body.
Charles emerges from the water, rivulets streaming down his toned chest. He joins you on the loungers, shaking his wet hair playfully over you and Lewis. You squeal and swat him away, laughing.
These past two weeks sailing around Sardinia have been pure bliss. Finally you can be as affectionate as you want, stealing kisses and cuddling close without worrying who might see. You’ve explored every inch of this yacht and each other’s bodies. After keeping your relationship under wraps, it’s glorious being so free.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” you sigh contentedly.
“Soon, love,” Lewis says, pulling you close. “Just have to get through this season.”
Charles nods, trailing his fingers down your arm. “It will all be worth it in the end.”
You smile softly at them both, heart swelling with love. “You’re right. As long as we’re together.”
You while away the rest of the afternoon trading lazy kisses and caresses, basking in the sun and each other.
That night, fireworks burst bright over the inky sea. You tilt your head back against Charles’ chest, watching the rainbow sparks. Lewis nuzzles your neck from behind, arms wrapped around your waist.
“I love you both,” you whisper as gold and purple light up the sky. Charles kisses your temple while Lewis squeezes you gently. You’ve never felt so full of love and joy.
Then, you all fly to Lewis’ villa in Brazil for the rest of summer break. The days pass in a carefree blur — lounging by the pool, sunset walks on the beach, and passion-filled nights tangled together in bed.
Charles cooks dinner shirtless one evening, playfully feeding you and Lewis bites as you sip wine. Lewis pulls you into an impromptu dance around the kitchen, the three of you laughing breathlessly.
“If only this could never end,” you say wistfully, pulling them in for a group hug.
“One day, baby,” Lewis murmurs, kissing your hair. Charles rubs your back, gazing at you tenderly.
You etch every moment into your memory, from languid mornings waking up between them to romantic picnics at sunset on the beach.
If only you could freeze time and stay in this private paradise.
But of course, time marches on. Before you know it, the break ends and you’re headed to the Netherlands for the start of the second half of the season.
Walking through Zandvoort a friendly distance from Charles and Lewis, everything feels different now. You have to stop yourself from being too openly affectionate, hyperaware of prying eyes.
Lewis senses your tension. “Soon this will all be out in the open,” he reminds you softly. The secret aspect still weighs on you all, but the promise of a future without hiding lifts your spirits.
On Thursday, just a few days before the race, you’re leaving the motorhome when your phone explodes with notifications. With a sinking sense of dread, you open social media to see leaked paparazzi shots plastered everywhere — the three of you kissing on the yacht, Lewis’ hands blatantly grabbing your rear in Brazil, you and Charles making out poolside.
You stagger back against the wall, blood rushing in your ears. This is a nightmare. Your private oasis shattered, your relationship outed in the most public, scandalous way possible.
Charles exits behind you and his face pales seeing your expression. Lewis comes around the corner a second later and you wordlessly show him your phone screen.
“Fuck,” Lewis swears. “Where did these come from?”
“I don’t know, they’re everywhere,” you say shakily.
Charles peers over your shoulder, jaw clenched. “We’ll figure it out later. Right now we need to get you out of here.”
You’re confused only for a second before you hear the swell of voices and footsteps rapidly approaching. Security won’t hold the media mob back for long.
Charles and Lewis spring into action, flanking you protectively as you hurry back towards the entrance. Halfway there, the dam breaks as reporters and cameras flood the paddock. You freeze like a deer in headlights.
Chaos erupts, cameras flashing, mics shoved in your faces, everyone shouting questions at once. Charles and Lewis shield you from the onslaught, yelling for security. Two guards appear and help navigate you through the frenzy back into the Ferrari motorhome.
You collapse on the sofa, heart pounding. Lewis paces angrily while Charles punches the wall. “Fuck! We were so careful,” he rages.
You blink back panicked tears. “What do we do now?”
Lewis sits and pulls you into his arms. “We face it head on. No more hiding. We own this together.”
Charles kneels before you, clasping your hands. “I’m with you no matter what. We’ll get through this.”
You cling to them, anchoring yourself. As long as you have each other, you can survive the storm.
You’ve just managed to catch your breath when the door flies open. Your head whips up to see none other than your father storming in, fury etched on his face.
“What the HELL is going on here?” He thunders.
You shrink back against Lewis. This is already a disaster — but your enraged, overprotective father finding out like this? You brace yourself as his glare pins you in place, demanding an explanation.
Toto slams the door behind him, eyes blazing like you’ve never seen before.
“Would someone like to explain what the hell is going on?” He shouts. “Because I leave for a few weeks and suddenly my daughter is splashed all over the tabloids in compromising photos with her secret boyfriends!”
You shrink back against Lewis, tears pooling in your eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you.
“Toto, let’s all just take a breath and talk about this,” Lewis says calmly.
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” Toto snarls, pointing a finger at Lewis. “You are supposed to be teammates and instead you’re 
 you’re ...” He splutters, at a loss for words.
“We’re in a relationship,” Charles says firmly, taking your hand. “The three of us.”
“A relationship?” Toto looks apoplectic. “She is my daughter!”
“Who makes her own choices,” Charles shoots back. “She’s an adult.”
Toto ignores him, glaring at Lewis and you. “I trusted you with her. And this is how you repay that trust?”
Lewis squeezes your shoulder gently before standing up to face Toto. “I understand you’re upset. But our relationship isn’t about you.”
“The hell it isn’t!” Toto shouts. “I am her father!”
“Stop yelling at them!” You cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.
Toto falters slightly seeing your distress. Charles pulls you into his arms, stroking your hair and glaring at Toto.
“Can’t you see you’re upsetting her?” Charles snaps. “She doesn’t owe you an explanation.”
Toto looks back and forth between the three of you, anger warring with confusion. Lewis takes a cautious step toward him.
“I know this is a shock,” Lewis says evenly. “But we didn’t intend for it to come out like this.”
He gestures for Toto to have a seat. After a tense moment Toto sinks into the armchair, face still thunderous. Lewis sits back down beside you.
“Help me understand this,” Toto says tightly. “Clearly this 
 arrangement has been going on behind my back for some time.”
You take a shaky breath. “We’ve been together since the start of the season. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, but we knew you would react badly.”
Toto drags a hand down his face. “You cannot expect me to be happy about this. My daughter dating two men at once? One of whom used to be my employee?”
“We don’t need your approval,” Charles says firmly. “All that matters is that we love each other. Right?”
He looks at you and Lewis. You both nod, Lewis taking your hand supportively.
“She’s right,” Lewis tells Toto. “We don’t need your blessing. But we want you to understand this is real, not just some fling or scandal.”
You look pleadingly at your father. “Please Vati, try to understand. I’ve never been happier than with these two.”
Toto stares back stonily. The silence stretches on. You feel Charles and Lewis tense on either side of you, bracing for Toto’s wrath.
Finally Toto sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “You’ve always been my sweet girl. My only wish is for your happiness and safety.”
He levels Charles and Lewis with a piercing look. “If either of you two hurts her, they’ll never find your bodies. Understand?”
Charles and Lewis both nod rapidly.
“We would never,” Lewis vows.
“Good. See that you don’t.” Toto turns back to you, expression softening. “This will take some adjustment. But I suppose if you’re happy ...”
“I am, I promise,” you assure him.
Toto shakes his head. “Well, try to keep the sordid details to yourself please.”
You huff out a wet laugh, wiping your eyes. “Deal.”
Toto nods stiffly and stands. Looking between the three of you, his face settles into resignation.
“I will do my best to 
 adjust to this,” he mutters. “But no funny business at the track!”
He points sternly at Charles and Lewis again. They both work to keep straight faces.
“Of course, totally professional at all times,” Lewis promises solemnly.
“Hmm. We’ll see.” Toto heads for the door. With his hand on the handle, he turns back.
“You’re still my little girl. I just want you safe and happy.”
You smile tearfully. “I know. Thank you.”
With a grunt and final glare at Charles and Lewis, Toto takes his leave.
The moment the door shuts, you collapse into their arms in relief. Laughing and crying all at once.
“That could have gone worse,” Charles remarks.
Lewis chuckles. “He only threatened us a little bit.”
You kiss them softly. “I can’t believe you stood up to him for me.”
Charles caresses your face. “Always.”
“We meant what we said — we’re in this together, no matter what,” Lewis affirms.
You cling to each other, coming down from the emotional rollercoaster. The worst is over. Your relationship is out in the open now. The media will have a field day, but you can weather any storm with your men by your side.
“So ...” you say with a watery laugh. “Who wants to handle the press release?”
***
The news of your relationship with Lewis and Charles has sent shockwaves through the paddock. You knew it would be a scandal, but the sheer scale of the reaction has been overwhelming.
Thankfully you’ve had each other to cling to through the firestorm. Their love and support keeps you strong in the face of snarling reporters and leering drivers.
In the Ferrari garage a few days later, Lewis has his arms wrapped around you, placing gentle kisses to your hair as you discuss weekend plans. Charles is in the engineering room, focused on prep for the upcoming race.
The two of you are in your own world together when Lando sheepishly approaches. "Hey mates, can I talk to you both for a sec?"
You tense instinctively and Lewis’ arm tightens around you protectively. But Lando’s face is regretful, not leering. “What’s up?” Lewis asks calmly.
Lando shuffles his feet. “I just wanted to apologize for all the times I hit on Y/N and crossed the line. I feel proper ashamed about it now that I know she was with you two. You deserve better from a friend.”
You and Lewis share a surprised look. Before you can respond, Pierre joins Lando, gazing at you repentantly.
“I want to also apologize,” Pierre says. “It was wrong of me to overstep boundaries and disrespect your relationship. I’m sorry.”
You bite your tongue, holding back what you really want to say. As usual, they’re ignoring you and directing apologies to Lewis instead.
Sensing your reaction, Lewis speaks up. “We appreciate you owning up to it, but I think Y/N deserves your apologies more. She’s the one you objectified and disrespected with the unwanted advances, after all.”
Lando and Pierre have the decency to look abashed. “You’re completely right, that was thoughtless of me,” Lando says. “I’m truly sorry for ever making you feel uncomfortable or pressured, Y/N. It won’t happen again.”
Pierre nods. “Please accept my sincere apologies as well. I should have been more considerate of your feelings and respected your privacy.”
You give them a stiff smile. “Thank you. Just please think about how your words and actions affect women as fellow human beings, not just as conquests or property.”
Lando and Pierre both nod earnestly before excusing themselves. As they walk away Lewis kisses your temple. “Well handled, love. How are you feeling?”
You sigh heavily. “I appreciate the apologies, but it still stings that they only considered your feelings initially, not mine.”
Lewis makes a sympathetic noise and hugs you close. “You deserve so much more respect. I’m sorry this has all been so ugly.”
You cling to him, drawing strength from his unwavering support. “As long as I have you and Charles, I can face anything.”
Lewis is about to reply when footsteps approach again. You tense, but it’s only Charles this time. His smile fades seeing your expression.
“Everything okay here?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You explain what just happened with Lando and Pierre. Charles’ eyes flash. “They are lucky I wasn’t here. I would have had a thing or two to say about them disrespecting you like that.”
You smile softly, touched by his protectiveness. “My heroes. However would I cope without you two defending my honor?”
Lewis tickles your side playfully. “We have to protect our lady’s virtue!”
You swat him away, laughing. Charles kisses the top of your head. “Joking aside, you never have to tolerate that behavior again. Not with us here.”
“I know,” you reply, snuggling into them happily. "My gallant protectors."
***
“Home sweet home,” you declare as the car pulls up the long driveway to your family’s sprawling Swiss estate.
Lewis lets out an impressed whistle from the backseat. “This is incredible!”
“Just wait until you see inside,” you grin at him in the rearview mirror.
You had kept putting off bringing Lewis and Charles here but it was finally time for them to see where you grew up.
They grab your bags as you lead them inside the grand foyer with its sweeping marble staircase. Lewis and Charles gaze around, taking in the ornate moldings and priceless artwork adorning the walls.
“I know it’s a bit ... much,” you say self-consciously.
“Are you kidding? This place is amazing!” Lewis crows, his voice echoing off the high ceilings.
You give them a brief tour of the endless sitting rooms, home theater, indoor pool, and your father’s meticulously organized garage housing his impressive car collection.
Finally you bring them upstairs to the family bedrooms. With a deep breath, you push open the door to your childhood room.
Lewis and Charles follow you in, peering around with interest at the spacious suite with its canopy bed, plush seating area, and panoramic mountain views.
You watch nervously as Lewis wanders over to your bookshelf and Charles admires the view from the French doors. Waiting for their judgment, you feel self-conscious about your privileged upbringing.
Suddenly Charles points to your wall and turns to you with a grin. “Well well, what do we have here?”
You follow his gaze to the life-size posters still occupying prime real estate on your wall, relics from your starry-eyed teen years. A young Lewis from his early Mercedes days gazes broodingly down, next to a smirking teenage Charles in his Prema race suit from back in F2.
“Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot those were there!” You groan, covering your rapidly reddening face.
Lewis chuckles, coming over to wrap you in a hug. “Aww, someone had a little crush, did they?” He teases.
“It was years ago!” You protest through your fingers.
Charles pries your hands away, smiling affectionately. “It’s cute you were our fan. Never be embarrassed for having good taste in drivers,” he winks.
Lewis kisses the top of your head. “Don’t worry love, we won’t give you too hard a time about it,” he says magnanimously.
You snuggle into his embrace. “How lucky am I to have manifested my crushes into reality?”
“The lucky ones are us,” Charles murmurs, stroking your hair and kissing you tenderly.
Lewis tips your chin up to meet his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You cling to each other, the outside world fading away.
Eventually you lead them hand-in-hand to your massive bedroom balcony overlooking the mountains. The summer air is fragrant with the smell of wildflowers.
Settled together on the cushions, you snuggle between Lewis and Charles as they take in the stunning panoramic views.
“It’s so beautiful and peaceful here,” Lewis sighs contentedly. “Thank you for bringing us with you.”
You squeeze his hand. “Thank you for wanting to know every part of me.”
Charles wraps an arm around you, meeting your eyes sincerely. “Of course we do. Your soul is what we fell in love with first and foremost.”
You have to blink back tears at his words. Being with them has taught you that real love runs far deeper than surface trappings.
Overwhelmed with emotion, you pull them close, kissing each with all the love and gratitude overflowing inside you.
As the sun dips behind the mountains, setting the sky ablaze in stunning hues of orange and purple, you curl up safely between the two men who see, know, and love the real you. The only home you’ll ever need.
***
The warmly lit dining room of your family estate is filled with the clink of silverware and hum of conversation as you share an intimate dinner with your father, stepmother Susie, younger brother Jack, and your loves.
Despite your anxiety, the evening has gone smoothly so far. Toto seems impressed with Lewis and Charles’ maturity and devotion to you. Susie dotes on them like a surrogate mother. Only Jack seems bored, pushing food around his plate.
During a lull in the conversation, Toto turns to Lewis. “It’s remarkable what you are accomplishing at Ferrari this season. Good to see you on top of the podium again.”
Lewis smiles. “Thank you, Toto. It’s been incredible.”
“Still, I was surprised when you first told me you were leaving Mercedes,” Toto remarks. “I didn’t fully understand what prompted such a sudden departure.”
He levels Lewis with a probing gaze. You freeze nervously, grasping Charles and Lewis’ hands under the table. You’ve managed to avoid telling your father the real reason for Lewis’ change in teams. But it seems that reckoning has arrived.
Lewis meets Toto’s scrutinizing look evenly. “Well, as you know, Mercedes has strict rules against relationships within the team. It began impeding my personal happiness. So I sought more freedom elsewhere.”
Toto’s eyes narrow, glancing between the three of you. “And when exactly did this personal happiness begin?”
You hold your breath. Lewis says simply, “During my third to last season with the team.”
There’s a long, fraught silence. Jack glances around confused while Susie presses her napkin to her lips, no doubt hiding a small smile. She’s always been your most enthusiastic supporter.
Toto’s face slowly turns an alarming shade of eggplant purple. He points an accusatory finger at Lewis. “You! You were already involved with my daughter during your Mercedes contract?”
Lewis nods calmly. “We couldn’t be public about it then. Your rules left us no choice but secrecy.”
Toto turns his glare on you. “So while I was managing Lewis’ negotiations, you were ... were ...” He seems unable to form the words.
You lift your chin. “Yes, Vati. We’ve been together since mid-2022. I’m sorry we couldn’t be honest about it at the time.”
Toto looks back and forth between you and Lewis, jaw clenched. The whole table is frozen, awaiting the eruption.
Finally Toto thrusts his chair back and begins pacing angrily. “This whole time ... right under my nose! With my star driver, in clear violation of team rules and ethics!”
He rounds on Lewis. “I treated you like family! Supported your career, fought for your contracts. And you betrayed me by sneaking around with my daughter behind my back!”
Lewis faces Toto’s tirade calmly. “I apologize for any perceived deception. But we couldn’t deny our hearts.”
He takes your hand, gazing at you adoringly. Charles clutches your other in solidarity.
Toto drags a hand down his face. “Unbelievable. I thought I knew you, Hamilton.”
Finally you can't stay quiet any longer. “Vati, stop,” you implore. “I know you’re upset, but don’t blame Lewis. We fell in love, simple as that.”
Toto sighs, looking between your determined face and Lewis’ sincerity. His anger slowly deflates.
“BĂ€rchen, you will always be my little girl,” he says gruffly. “I just want to protect you.”
He turns back to Lewis and Charles. “But I can see you both genuinely care for her. That’s all that matters in the end.”
You smile hopefully. “So you’re okay with this?”
Toto holds up a hand. “Let’s not get carried away. I am still adjusting to the idea.” He narrows his eyes at Lewis and Charles. “No messing about, you hear me? My girl deserves the utmost love and respect.”
“Of course,” Lewis says seriously as Charles nods in agreement.
“Good. See that it stays that way.” Toto sits back down with a huff. An awkward beat passes before conversation resumes again.
Later, as you all say goodnight, Toto pulls you into a hug. “They really make you happy, hmm?”
You nod, eyes shining. “Beyond words.”
Toto pats your cheek affectionately. “Well then, I suppose that’s what matters.”
You kiss his cheek in gratitude. No matter how overprotective your father can be, you know he just wants you safe and loved. With Lewis and Charles by your side, you always will be.
***
Seven Years Later
The Ferrari garage is buzzing with activity as race day gets underway at the Italian Grand Prix. You stand with Lewis among the controlled chaos, keeping one eye on your enthusiastic children weaving through the mechanics’ legs.
“Be careful, Lou!” You call out as your daring five-year-old Louis takes a corner a little too sharply, his Ferrari cap nearly sliding off his wild wavy hair.
Lewis shakes his head in amusement. “He’s as spirited as his Papa.”
You grin proudly at your son, the spitting image of Charles, as he zooms around mimicking pit stops. Your little three-year-old Helene clings shyly to her daddy’s leg, peering up at the action with wide brown eyes that are the mirror image of Lewis’ own.
Charles emerges from the engineering briefing and makes a beeline for you. Sweeping you into his arms, he greets you with a passionate kiss. After over seven years together, the sparks between you still ignite instantly.
Pulling back, Charles grins at your slightly disheveled state. “Hello to you too,” you laugh breathlessly.
He winks before turning to give Lewis a tender kiss. Your unconventional family drew some skepticism at first, but your extraordinary love has proven unshakeable.
The kids chorus “Papa!” and attack Charles’ legs. Laughing, he scoops them both up, kissing their heads. “Are you ready to cheer for me, my little racers?”
Their enthusiastic cheers draw amused glances from the team. You soak it all in — your little family, together forever.
Charles reluctantly sets the kids down to focus on pre-race prep. You feel a phantom flutter in your belly, though you know it’s still too early for it to be real. Grasping Lewis’ hand, you share a private smile. Baby number three is on the way.
The race begins in a blur of excitement. Charles aces the start, quickly pulling into the lead. Louis abandons all decorum and just starts screaming “Go Papa!” at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, you and Lewis take turns occupying your hyperactive son so as not to distract the crew. Shy little Helene contents herself hugging a Ferrari-themed teddy bear, peering intently at the screens showing her Papa as he speeds around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.
The laps tick by, Charles fending off the competition masterfully. As he crosses the finish line to claim victory on home soil, Louis and Helene are jumping and cheering loudly. The passion for racing already runs strong.
Back out in the paddock after the podium celebration, you and Lewis balance the kids on your hips as reporters head straight for the two of you. The questions are familiar after years in the spotlight.
“Lewis, what’s it like spending almost every weekend at the track despite your retirement five years ago?”
“I love it,” Lewis smiles, bouncing a giggling Helene. “Getting to support my husband and spend time with my family, it’s very fulfilling.”
“And Y/N, how do you manage the kids and your husband’s demanding career?”
You grin. “We make it work. We’re so proud of Charles and feel lucky to be by his side through it all.”
On cue, Helene pipes up “Papa is the best racer!”
The reporters chuckle. One asks, “How do you feel seeing Charles continue to build his legacy with Ferrari?”
“I couldn’t be prouder,” Lewis says, genuine emotion in his eyes. “He’s taken the team to new heights and really made his mark. Seeing him succeed means the world.”
Louis suddenly grabs the mic, yelling “Are we done yet?” You have to stifle your laugh.
“I think that’s our cue to wrap up,” you grin sheepishly, gathering the rambunctious children in your arms. Blowing kisses to the laughing media, you make your exit.
Back in the privacy of the motorhome, your unconventional but beautiful family shares celebratory hugs and kisses. Charles rests his hand gently on your belly, his face lighting up when you confirm the news.
“Baby number three on the way!” Lewis crows, sweeping you into an excited embrace.
Louis and Helene cheer, demanding another sibling immediately. You laugh giddily, leaning into Charles and gazing at the pure joy on your husbands’ faces. Your hearts swell with love.
This life you’ve built together has faced skepticism, but your extraordinary bond conquers all. Gazing into their eyes, you know without a doubt you were destined for each other. Hand in hand, side by side, forevermore.
***
18 Months Later
You finish strapping a squirming Cosette into her car seat, smoothing down her hair that is the spitting image of your own. “There we go, my little princess. Time to go see Opa Toto!”
Cosette babbles happily, waving her chubby fists. At just over a year old, she is the perfect blend of you and Charles, with your lips and nose and his vibrant green eyes.
Louis and Helene are already buckled into the backseat, their patience for the short drive to your father’s house wearing thin. “Hurry up!” Louis cries. “I want to show Opa my new race car!”
“We’re coming, hold your horses,” you laugh, sliding into the passenger seat beside Charles. Lewis is meeting you there after stopping at home to grab a few extra toys and changes of clothes for the kids’ overnight stay.
During the short drive, Charles keeps resting his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing distracting circles. You try your best to keep your breathing even. After all these years together, just the slightest touch from your husbands can still ignite that spark instantly.
You pull up the long driveway to find Lewis’ car already parked outside the stately lakefront home you grew up spending summers in. Before you can even unbuckle, the front door swings open and Toto comes striding out, arms open wide.
“My lieblinge!” He booms as Louis and Helene barrel into his embrace.
You lift Cosette from her carseat and Toto takes her gently, eyes crinkling with delight. “And there’s my littlest liebling,” he coos, nuzzling her soft curls.
Lewis joins you all outside, greeting Toto with a warm hug. “Thanks again for watching the kids tonight, Toto. We really appreciate it.”
“Of course, of course! They’re my grandbabies, it’s my honor,” Toto declares, ushering everyone inside.
Soon the kids are happily playing on the living room floor as you and Susie chat over tea. Lewis joins Toto out on the back patio, no doubt talking about the current state of the team as always. Charles wanders in from the kitchen and comes up behind you, massaging the knots from your shoulders in that way he knows you love. You have to bite back a moan, not wanting to scar your family. Susie just smiles knowingly into her tea cup.
Too soon it’s time to head out for your rare adults-only evening. You pry Louis away from showing Toto his toy car collection and scoop up a sleepy Cosette. Helene hugs you tightly around the legs.
“We’ll be back to get you tomorrow, sweetheart,” you assure her, kissing the top of her head.
Lewis takes his turn hugging the kids while Charles checks his watch. “Reservations are in 30 minutes, we should get going soon.”
You pass a sleepy Cosette to Toto and he cradles her gently. “We’ll hold down the fort, you three go and have an enjoyable evening.” He gives Lewis and Charles a stern look. “But not too enjoyable, hmm? Keep it respectable.”
Lewis just grins as Charles steps up and claps Toto on the back. “Oh don’t worry, we’ll be very respectable. Just having a nice dinner while we discuss when to start working on baby number four.” He winks cheekily at Toto while you and Lewis have to stifle your laughter at the mortified look on your father’s face.
Charles dodges Toto’s half-hearted swat and pulls you and Lewis in close. “Come on, our romantic evening awaits.”
You bid one more goodnight to the kids before letting Charles usher you out the door, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. The drive to the restaurant passes enjoyably, laughter and teasing flowing freely. For one night, you have the rare opportunity to just be yourselves, simply three lovers.
At the upscale restaurant, you’re shown to a cozy corner table lit by flickering candles. Charles orders an expensive bottle of wine while you and Lewis peruse the menu. His foot trails slowly up your leg under the tablecloth and you have to resist the urge to jump him then and there. After years together the flames still burn hot, stealing passionate moments whenever you can.
Dinner passes enjoyably, full of laughter and flirty touches. Afterwards you stroll hand-in-hand along the lakefront, the starry sky reflected on the rippling water. Lewis pulls you into a dance right there on the path, the three of you swaying and giggling drunkenly together. Passersby stare but you’re oblivious, caught up in your own private world.
Eventually you make your tipsy way back home, shedding clothes on your way up to the master bedroom. They lay you down reverently in the middle of the expansive bed, hands and mouths immediately reacquainting themselves with every familiar curve and hollow of your body. Soon you’re panting and writhing between them, their dual caresses pushing you rapidly towards euphoria.
“Need you ... both ... now,” you manage to gasp out. Without hesitation Charles is kissing you hungrily while Lewis repositions himself behind you. You cry out as they join your bodies seamlessly, swiftly bringing you to the peak again and again. Their stamina and synchronicity even after all these years together never fails to leave you awestruck.
Much later, sated and pleasantly sore, you rest comfortably sandwiched between your husbands. Their hands caress you languidly as you all come down from your highs together.
“We certainly made the most of our kid-free night,” Lewis chuckles, dropping a kiss to your shoulder.
You hum contentedly. “It was heavenly. But I can’t wait to get our babies back tomorrow.”
“Me too,” Charles agrees, trailing his fingers down your arm. “Our family is everything to me.”
You smile softly at him, heart swelling. “Our lives turned out pretty perfectly, didn’t they?”
Lewis nods, his eyes drifting around the bedroom that over the years has become a shrine to your shared journey — photos of race wins, kids’ drawings, and candid shots of your unlikely love filling every surface.
“Beyond anything I could have dreamed,” he murmurs. “Being with you both, raising our babies together ... it’s more than I ever imagined was possible.”
Charles kisses you tenderly. “We’re so lucky to have this extraordinary love.”
You cling tighter to them, emotion welling in your chest. “Every day I’m grateful we followed our hearts and created this life together.”
They hum contentedly, holding you close between their warm, solid bodies. No more words need be said. After so many years, your souls are intertwined seamlessly by the incredible bonds of your love.
Come what may, you know without a doubt that you were destined for each other. And you would choose this unconventional but beautiful life with them every single time.
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erwinsvow · 10 months ago
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drunk rafe nd shy!reader talking when he starts telling her all about his dark twisted plans of marrying her and getting her pregnant, that she’s going to be his forever. <3
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"you need to sleep, rafey," you hum, trying to keep your boyfriend upright while you get him inside tannyhill.
topper had been sweet enough to drop the two of you off before heading home, knowing that you would have trouble driving rafe's truck. you had to remember to thank him tomorrow, maybe bake him some brownies, since you remembered those were his favorite last time you made them.
"wha' i need is you-" he slurs back, and you giggle. rafe never gets drunk like this, and he's usually always composed. the extra shots at the end did him in—the boys were celebrating something that didn't make much sense to you.
"what you need is an advil and some water. and greasy food tomorrow morning, don't worry, i'll make some for you."
"i know y'will." you try to sneak in, remaining as quiet as you can while you guide rafe up the stairs. you're sure everyone's asleep and though rafe's family seemed to really like you, you don't want to make a bad impression. rafe's being loud, and you pray no one wakes up while you get him into his bedroom.
finally finishing the journey up the staircase, rafe gets on his bed, struggling to untie his laces. you can't help your smile, the laugh spilling out. you never get to see him like this.
you hurry over, dropping down and taking the laces into your hands, untying them quickly. rafe kicks off his shoes and sits up on the bed, opening his arms to you. you know you should go and find the bottle of advil, but you can't resist, crawling into his lap and steadying yourself by holding onto his arms. he looks right into your eyes, something that always makes your face burn.
"you're a real good girl, y'know that?" rafe says, words a little less slurred. you smile and nod gently, at a loss for words. rafe's hand comes up to touch your jawline, holding you there a little tightly, but not painful at all. "really. mean it. you're so perfect."
"rafe-" you protest quietly, entire body flushing with a wave of heat. you're used to all kinds of praise for him, it's really commonplace for the two of you, but this feels different—feels more intimate, maybe because you know he's in the state of mind that makes you say everything you're thinking.
"no, i mean it. you're perfect for me. you always listen, always do what i say. how'd you get like that, hm?"
"i don't know," you mumble. he's drunk, so you think he won't remember. "you bring it out in me."
"good. you're so good." you smile, resting your head against his shoulder, eyes shutting while you inhale his scent. "m'gonna marry you as soon as i fuckin' can." your eyes shoot open, a laugh bubbling to the surface.
"rafe-"
"no, really. maybe i should knock you up now, make sure no one gives us any problems."
you pick your head up, looking back at your boyfriend. he seems to be in his own world, lost in his thoughts.
"that sounds good. knock you up and then marry you, and then it'll jus' be me you and the kids forever. that's right. perfect. gotta get on that." you listen with wide eyes and parted lips. even in his drunken state, he wonders if he scared you this time.
"promise?"
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yesimwriting · 6 months ago
Text
Normalcy
A/n deadpool and wolverine drabble bc the movie was a little too good
Summary: Still reeling from the loss of your powers, you struggle to hold it together inside the TVA's void. Thankfully, you find an uncharacteristically peaceful distraction in your old friend Deadpool and in the wolverine variant who wants nothing to do with you.
Warnings/info: reader is a (former) avenger (bc i love the avengers <3), reader is described as having similar powers to wanda and having trained with her (bc i love wanda), implied beginning of an accidental love triangle if you squint ig, maybe too much lore for a drabble (?), me writing for characters for the first time so be nice 😭
----
The lines etched into your palms do not bend and twist to spell out secrets, there are no messages worth decoding pressed into your skin. Knowing this is not enough to stop you from staring at your hands like if you could just think about it hard enough...
"There you are, Peanut." The words are so warm you're briefly pulled out of your internal angst. You straighten, head lifting slightly and arms crossing in front of your chest. "Thought I lost you."
Wade continues forward until he's directly in front of you. He pauses, watching you with an unabashed openness that you'd only ever allow him to get away with. "Kidding," he tries, "I'd never lose you."
The familiarity of the casual affection eases you further, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "I was like 15 feet away from you."
"Sorry for caring." It's his go to comeback when it comes to defending the displays of affection you have the audacity to find overdramatic.
You blink, lips parting despite your lack of response. The world has felt a little slower these last few days, moving at a pace that leaves you with no choice but to reflect. Maybe it's the void.
"Hey," his voice feels a little flatter without his usual humor, "Are you okay?"
You let out a breath, shocked by this new low. Sure, you've known Wade for awhile and you've both seen each other through plenty of stages, but he's never felt the need to attempt a genuine pep talk for you. He's never struck you as the pep talk sort...for anyone. Do you really seem that off?
It's bad enough that your identity crisis has stolen the abilities that would have helped your trio pop out of the void with no real fanfare, you can't also make your insecurities everyone else's problem. "Yeah." The response doesn't feel convincing, but with Wade wearing the Deadpool mask, it's hard to be sure. "Just y'know...we're in a void and our reality might be ripped apart, so I've been better."
He's still watching you with a level of focus that's unnerving. You've gotten used to his familiarity, his lack of care for personal space or the social rules around watching people. "You're doing it again."
"Seducing you with my ability to have a heart to heart while looking this good in my suit?"
You sigh in an attempt to dismiss your slight smile. Happy or sad, superhero that once fought Thanos or regular person that can't regulate their emotions, Wade always treats you the same. "The staring thing. You said you'd stop."
"No, you said I'd stop." The correction is a return to what you're used to. He takes a step towards you, his proximity now forcing you to tilt your chin up slightly to look him in the eye. "I'd never promise to look at you less."
"Comforting."
He angles his chin downwards, making the limited distance feel more significant. "I thought so." For a moment, he's quiet in a way that doesn't feel very him. "Are you sure you're...good?" His hesitance is another reminder that this is far out of his element. "I know this is your first..." Wade's rarely careful, only ever treading lightly on the one subject you never want to bring. "Outing, since..."
"I lost my powers."
Wade goes quiet again. If this conversation is as inevitable as it seems, a part of you wishes it could have come up elsewhere. Maybe in your shared apartment, definitely without the mask so you could better interpret his reactions. It's not often you keep secrets from him, but the hollowness you feel knowing the part of yourself you've lost isn't something you can just share.
It's more than just about missing your party tricks, it's about losing a part of yourself. They were all that was left of your time with the Avengers, of what Wanda taught you before Westview.
He lets out a breath. "They're not lost." You raise your eyebrows slightly, giving him a look meant to caution him against sympathetic optimism. "We don't know that."
He seems so happy to be able to tell you that there's no proof that any and all magical abilities have been flushed out of your system, you don't have it in you to remind him that that's mainly because you have no one to ask. What's left of the Avengers and your government connections either barely understand what you were or are untrustworthy.
"Educated wish?"
His mask muffles a slight gasp. You press your lips together in an attempt to resist smiling. "The last one worked out great."
Your eyebrows pull together skeptically, a reminder that the two of you are still technically in the middle of the last educated wish he attempted to speak into existence. "Didn't Wolverine stab you multiple times--"
He cuts you off with a heavy sigh. "If I took getting stabbed personally, do you know where we'd be?"
In a reality where Wade holds grudges over those kinds of things, you wouldn't be anything to each other, except maybe enemies. You've never pulled a knife or sword or anything sharp on him, but when you first met he did startle you before you had a total grip on your abilities, which resulted in him getting thrown through a wall.
"I never stabbed you."
His hand finds your shoulder. You let him drag his thumb against against the fabric of your suit. "And that's how I know you really love me, Peanut."
You roll your eyes in an attempt to dislodge the warmth that settles in the pit of your stomach. The last thing Wade needs is encouragement. "I mean, I do go around stabbing everyone I like less than you."
He lets out a sound that feels like a scoff attempting to mask itself as a dry laugh. "There's the sense of humor that'd hurt me if I knew you less."
"Well--"
He squeezes your shoulder, "I know you." Okay. You'll let him have this one because maybe there's some truth to what he's saying. "I'm going to go check on the car, because a fucking Honda Odyssey would break down on us for no reason before we got to the fight."
"For no reason or because of the bitch fight you and Wolverine had in it?"
There's a beat of silence in which all you can do is try to imagine Wade's expression behind the mask. You'd like to think that he's smiling. "Oh, Pumpkin." He sighs as if you've stumbled onto saying something terribly naive. "It wasn't a bitch fight, it was awesome, and probably turned you on."
You deadpan a flat, "You caught me." He hasn't let go of your shoulder, and a part of you is oddly glad for it. "I'd offer you help with the car, but..."
You're self aware enough to acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses, car maintenance being the latter. Wade doesn't even let you get your oil changed by yourself anymore.
"I've met you." He squeezes your shoulder again, the gesture weirdly stabilizing. "Give me 15 minutes to actually look at the car and then I'm all yours."
Wade lets go of you, his arm falling to his side. "Aren't you always?"
He lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're making me feel cheaper than my usual rate, Peanut."
You smile as he turns away. Things are always a little easier with Wade. It's more than just distraction, it's his way of making things feel a little lighter. You're not sure what to do with your 15 minutes of solitude to avoid falling back into self pity.
You originally broke away from the group of void trapped heroes under the premise of needing fresh air, but even here, with the expansive, sparsely wooded area at your disposal, the oxygen in your lungs still feels flat. If Wanda were around, you'd be able to ask if she felt the strangeness of this other plane of existence as well. At least then you'd know if your dislike of the void is only mental or an actual sign of life from your abilities.
You begin to walk forward, hoping to shed all thoughts of both your former self and the eeriness of this other world. There are other people you could talk to you. The others have been polite enough, or at the very least, passionate enough to be talked into facing Cassandra.
The trees you've been wandering through grow in their sparsity, the edge of the woods revealing a patch of grassland highlighted by a fire's warm glow. You squint past the tree line, attempting to make out the figure sitting in front of the flames. Wolverine.
Secluded from the group and staring at a campfire. Surprising. Though, you guess it's not fair to judge him too harshly, you left the group to brood as well.
He doesn't like you, doesn't know you well enough to dislike you, but it took him no time to find a way to get around that. Maybe it's your proximity to Wade. You've done your best to take his hostility as un-personally as possible. You've seen enough people you really care about go through the guilt ridden, fallen hero thing to know how deep that kind of hurt runs.
You've never known a Wolverine or Logan Howlett variant, so you have no way of knowing what he was like before. Sure, you've heard stories, but you're also overly aware of how the media can twist and turn those stories to fit their narrative. One day, a superhero is the world's greatest protector, and the next their the greatest menace. Maybe he was always a little dark, or maybe he wasn't.
"Don't just stand there." The gruffness of his voice startles you more than it should.
Heat crawls up your neck, a part of you more embarrassed than you should be. You weren't lurking, or at the very least, you weren't trying to.
You sigh as you abandon the safety of the tree line. "Sorry." He turns his head away from the fire. "I wasn't--I was just walking."
He's quiet for such a long moment you almost expect him to not respond at all. "Without your shadow?"
Wow, only a halfhearted dig at Wade. You must have caught him in a good mood. "Friend, and he's looking at the car. I'd be looking at the car with him, but I figured the odds for tomorrow are bad enough as is."
Another uneasy stretch of silence. "Yeah." There's not much, if anything, to take from the comment. "If you're here to convince me to go with you guys tomorrow--"
"I'm not." It's an honest answer. You had been walking around aimlessly and happened to stumble onto him. "I'm not into the pep talk thing." He scoffs, the sound lacking in genuine aggression. "What?"
He lifts his gaze from the fire, his eyes settling on some point past the horizon. "I thought you were an Avenger."
You're not sure what bugs you more, the fact that he's so sure he has you all figured out or the implication that the Avengers spend their days encouraging each other instead of actually doing things. What the Avengers are--or maybe were--is so much more than that.
You step forward, further separating you from the cluster of trees. "The Avengers are about a lot more than that."
His attention briefly shifts onto you before returning to the flames. If the silence is meant to be dismissive, it doesn't feel that way. There's a patience there that doesn't suit his usual brooding.
"Do you care if I sit?" The question is forced out before you can overthink it. "I promise no inspirational speeches or small talk."
After a beat, he dips his chin downwards in a nod so subtle you would have missed it if you had been watching him any less carefully. You're more relieved by his acceptance than you should be, your feet carrying you towards the campfire.
You sit at a polite distance, knees bent in front of you. His silence seems to push against the void's sluggishness. Maybe the issue has been you fighting this world's momentum.
"Why are you with him?" You're not sure if you're more shocked by the question or the break in silence. When all you can do is blink, he continues, "You seem--" He subtly clears his throat, as if struggling to admit this next part, "Nice, normal."
Oh. If you had been focused, you likely would have got what he meant without the clarification. "I know Wade's a lot--especially to you." You place a hand against your knee, thinking about that very specific safety you only feel with Wade. You don't have to try at being anything, or worry about earning your keep in any capacity. "But once you get to know him, he's a good friend."
You look away from the fire pit in time to see the skeptical look Logan throws in your direction. "I'm serious." His expression doesn't change. "He um--after I stopped being important to everyone else, he still liked me ." This isn't the conversation you wanted to stumble onto, especially not with someone who you barely know and actively dislikes you. "That sounds kind of dumb, but the point is, he's loyal."
He turns his head back towards the fire. "You always call him by his name." The observation is so stiff you'd consider it hesitant if it came from anyone else.
You've never thought much about Wade's name. Part of it is familiarity, and the rest of it is a force of habit. Even when you were with the Avengers, you preferred using actual names when off duty. It's easier to separate the mask from the person beneath it when you make an active effort to.
You shrug. "I'm not into off duty superhero names, Wolverine."
He falls silent again. You concentrate on the flames, the way they illuminate the world around you. "You can--" He cuts himself off, attention never wavering from the fire. "You can call me Logan, if you want."
An unsteady warmth roots itself in your chest. You didn't expect any sort of kinship between you and the wolverine Wade stole from some other timeline beyond him occasionally accepting your attempts at creating peace between him and Wade.
"Okay," you focus on keeping your tone measured, avoiding any emotions that might startle him, "Logan."
There's no tension in the quiet that follows. You let the minutes pass until you're certain that Wade's waiting for an interruption disguised as an attempt to help. "I should go, Wade's probably waiting for me."
You push yourself to stand. You let yourself glance at him one last time before turning towards the trees you emerged from.
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findmeinforks · 1 year ago
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Stay - Paul Lahote X Fem!Reader
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Happy 2024! I honestly didn't know what to call this, but I just kept writing and now I'll probably need a part 2 🙃 enjoy 💕 2.8K words
"You have no idea how excited I am. I mean just how long have I been begging you to come live with me?" Emily grinned into the phone that was tucked between her shoulder and ear. She paced the kitchen while whisking a bowl of brownie mix, mindlessly chatting away.
"I must warn you though that the house does get chaotic. But the boys are pretty good about keeping up after themselves," she said while swatting away Embry's hand that almost made a dip in the bowl. He put his hands up in self defense as she rolled her eyes.
"Sounds great. Sam will pick you up at the airport tomorrow at noon. Let me know if you need anything else, and have a safe flight. I love you!" She she set the bowl on the counter, hanging up the phone.
"Was that Y/N? She's moving in tomorrow?" Quil questioned from the table with a mouth full of chips.
"Yes, and I trust that you boys will be on your best behavior in welcoming her..." Emily raised her eyebrow as she pointed a dripping whisk of batter at all the men now surrounding the kitchen.
"Depends, is she hot?" Embry snickered as he sat down.
"Oh....she is." Quil emphasized with wide eyes.
"Get it Embry!" Paul snorted as he clapped him on the back, reaching over into Quil's bag of chips.
"They WILL be on their best behavior. And no one will be 'getting' shit." The booming voice of Sam emerged behind Emily, wrapping his arms around her torso.
He reached his head over her shoulder as she let him lick what was left on the whisk, earning a disgusted "Seriously?" from Quil.
"Hey, but what if she's my imprint??" Embry held his up his finger to argue.
"You know that would be a different story...but we know already she isn't Quil's" Sam smirked at the youngest pack members now disappointed face.
"You guys are kidding right? I've seen pictures. Shes insanely out of all your leagues." Jacob quipped as he strolled to the living room.
"Anything is better than my crushes newborn infant..." Embry muttered under his breath, making all the boys cower in laughter.
"Oh yeah? You wanna say that again?" Jacob challenged.
Sam walked around in between them, looking from side to side at them both.
"THIS is what Emily is talking about. Keep the fights outside boys. I mean it. Just because Y/N knows about the pack doesn't mean she won't get scared if you clowns nearly phase in the kitchen. Are we clear?"
The two reluctantly nodded, Jacob sulking away to the living room.
"But come on, that was kinda funny.." Embry whispered, making the other boys giggle.
Paul shook his head with a smile at his little brother, leaving the room to shower before dinner.
-
There was something about the conversation that stuck with Paul throughout the night. Since Sam had met Emily, all of his brothers wanted imprints. They all saw what it was like to have one up close, and craved it desperately. He grimaced at the thought. The idea of a "soulmate" sounded ridiculous to Paul.
The problem wasn't that he didn't believe in it. Anybody could see the intense love that imprints had for one another, their bond growing with them until old age.
But Paul was not familiar with the term love. He never did get to see the love between his father and mother. She had been his imprint, but passed long before Paul could remember much about her. He watched his father struggle emotionally, never being able to get through the grief of her loss. Sure, he raised Paul as best he could, but deep down it was his mother that would have filled the void in their quiet house.
Things did get a little brighter when Paul joined the pack. For the first time he truly felt like he was part of a real family. He came home to hot meals, genuine laughter, and lively conversation. Not only had he gained a group of brothers, but ones with unwavering loyalty. None of them ever strayed away when Paul lost control of his temper, and were the first ones to help him learn to control it.
Maybe that was the reason he never looked for anything serious when it came to women. What was the point? One little outburst and they were out the door quicker than they had come in. He didn't allow himself to feel anything for them, because they'd end up leaving, and he was saving himself the heart break anyways.
Paul lay awake that night certain about one thing, he didn't need an imprint.
-
You inhaled the crisp fall air. Smiling wide as you looked up the steps to the new home awaiting you, the patio adorned in different flowers and cutesy outdoor decor.
"Oh Em it's just how I remember. You always make it look so cozy," you said as you squeezed the arm of your cousin beside you.
She returned your same smile.
"You're too sweet. I just can't believe you're really here. Come on, I'll introduce you to the boys."
You followed her up the steps, walking through the door to the warm smell of baked goods, no doubt that Emily had been up all night. You chuckled to yourself as you remember how she would go overboard on food whenever she was excited about something and couldn't sleep.
What you weren't used to, however, was being greeted by the several shirtless men. All incredibly in shape with tattoos on their arms, you might have been intimidated if it weren't for their cheesy smiles.
Emily gestured to each of them,
"You remember Quil, and that's Embry, Jacob, Seth, andddd well," she looked around puzzled for a moment. "I guess I'll introduce you to Paul whenever he comes around."
You waved at Quil and shook the other's hands.
There must have been some sort of inside joke, because as you finished with introductions you saw Sam laugh while they collectively let out a small sigh.
You don't think you were meant to hear it, but you caught Sam whisper at Embry,
"Better luck next time kid."
Emily didn't make a big deal of whatever it was, guiding you to your room.
After you got settled in, you found yourself strolling the hallway, looking over all the framed pictures on the wall. You had been over the moon when Emily had found Sam. You've never seen her so happy before, and you could tell he looked at her in the exact same way.
Not paying attention when the bathroom door opened, you collided with a large bare chest that stepped into the hall.
You gasped as two strong arms to match caught you before you fell, luckily, and you embarrassingly faced the one man you of course had no former introduction with.
"I am so, so sorry. I-"
"No no it's fine, are you-"
Both of you started and stopped mid sentence. Your attention had been captured when you two locked eyes. It was like you had been anchored to the floor by them. This warm, fuzzy energy had your entire body buzzing. It was so silent that you could hear your own blood flow in your ears. You furrowed your eyebrows in the haze. What the hell...
"ARE YOU SHITTING ME??"
A loud voice cut through the trance and you flinched at the abrupt sound. The man held you slightly tighter for a moment, as if he was about to protect you from whatever had interrupted you both in this hypnotic state.
Turning around so you both could see that the voice had been Embry, the man looked back and quickly dropped his arms, as if he just realized he had been holding you that whole time.
An unfamiliar emptiness lingered when he let go. He quickly averted his gaze, mumbling another apology before brushing past you, into a room, shutting the door.
-
His imprint. Right there. In the hallway of his own home.
Paul couldn't breathe.
He sat on the edge of his bed, nervously running his hands through his hair in a panic.
You were beautiful.
Breathtaking.
Your smell was intoxicating and your skin was so, so very soft. Your voice sounded like an angel. Your hair-
No.
No, he couldn't let himself think like this. He didn't need an imprint. Didn't even want one in the first place.
Was this some kind of sick joke the universe was playing on him? This girl could have anyone she wants. Why him?
Emily's call for dinner had him taking deep breaths. He could do this. They could live amongst eachother and not have to talk. There's ton of people in this house, it would be rare that the two of them would ever be alone. Right? Right. He could do this.
He walked into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face. Wake up. It's just some girl. No different than the many that he had been with. Hell, if he could have sex with someone and never think of them again, he could do it. They had barely exchanged a sentence. Barely touched. He would be fine.
-
You sat down at the table, trying to behave as normal as possible. What happened in the hall was nothing. Whiplash. Yes, it was probably the whiplash from running into him. The poor guy seemed shy, and he was most likely just as shook up as you. It was a small accident and nothing more. He certainly didn't seem angry or upset, just caught off guard.
But wow....was he handsome. Certainly more attractive than any lousy guy you'd ever been with. He had this aroma of sandalwood and forest that was enchanting.
Okay, slow down Y/N. Let's not walk in on the first day and jump on some guy. After all, you two are going to be living together. Maybe don't make him uncomfortable in his own home. You shook your head to yourself. Just forget about the whole thing and it will be fine.
Luckily, Emily had started conversations around the table, easily able to take your mind elsewhere.
That was, until he came in the room. There was a beat of silence when he entered, the other boys seeming to look at him like they were anticipating something. When he didn't make a sound or even look up to anyone, slumping at the table and taking a plate, the conversations arose again.
Dinner was excellent as usual for Emily's cooking, and besides your beating heart constantly begging you to look at the man near the end of the table, it was almost normal.
It was when Emily put delicious brownies on the table, that it took a turn for the worse.
"I'M NOT GOING TO TELL YOU AGAIN. SHUT THE FUCK ALONE ABOUT IT" Everyone's head turned to the angry voice. It was him. He was so visibly upset that he was shaking, staring daggers at Embry beside him. Slamming his fists on the table as he stood up, you let an audible gasp slip.
That's when he looked at you for the second time that night. It was a far reach, but somehow you saw his eyes soften. The crinkles of anger in his eyebrows vanished, and he swallowed, before bolting out the door. Sam immediately followed, and Emily sighed, reaching out to touch your arm.
"I'm sorry about Paul. He's very.....expressive sometimes."
Paul.
-
"Leave me alone Sam."
Paul sighed through the mind link, his large wolf racing through the trees.
He didn't mean it. He never means it. But Embry would simply not stop talking. First it was meaningless. He asked what imprinting felt like. Paul had shrugged it off as nothing crazy, hoping he'd drop it there. Then, he had asked him if he planned on pursuing the imprint. Of course he told him he wasn't. He didn't need a soulmate. No matter what his instincts told him. But then, Embry had smiled and thanked him, telling him that you were now "fair game".
That had been when he lost it.
He stopped on the edge of a cliff, breathing in the fresh water air. Sam slowly approached his side.
"Embry only said that to get a rise out of you, you know."
Paul scoffed.
"He can do whatever he wants. I don't care about her."
"Oh you don't?" Sam didn't sound so convinced.
"Even if I did, she wouldn't want me. Did you....did you see the look on her face when I yelled?" Paul replayed it over and over. You had looked absolutely frightened.
"There is a reason she was chosen to be your imprint Paul. You don't know Y/N. She is patient, and most of all understanding. If you talked to her-"
"I don't need to talk to her. I am perfectly fine alone. I don't need a woman, and I definitely don't need an imprint."
Sam sighed.
"Paul. You can do what you want. I'm not the type of alpha to force you to love someone. But believe me when I say that I had a dark past. I was also comfortable with being alone. Emily is the best thing that could have ever happened to me. Having a conversation with her doesn't mean there will be wedding bells tomorrow. All I'm saying is you don't know unless you try."
Paul nodded, and Sam left him with his thoughts.
-
You stared at the numbers on your phone screen. 2:00am. You huffed in frustration. Your mind had been a constant replay of the events today, your mind spiraling. You had settled on the fact things around here were weird, when you had visited Emily and accidentally caught sight of Sam in wolf form. But this energy couldn't have anything to do with that. Could it?
You decided to make yourself some tea to try and relax. Knowing Emily you knew there had to be some in the kitchen. You tip toed in the dark, your body stiffening as you recognized a familiar muscular back that sat at the kitchen table in a dim light.
You were ready to retreat back to your room when he turned his head around to look at you.
Damn, wolves must have good hearing.
"I was just....going to make some tea.." you pointed to the cabinet awkwardly.
He nodded, looking back down at what appeared to be a cup of coffee.
He couldn't sleep either?
You mindlessly tapped your fingers against the counter as you awaited the kettle, praying that if you stared at it long enough, it would speed up the process.
-
Fuck, was this torture. You were like a goddess, standing there in your pajamas, hair astray and up in a haphazard bun. He imagined walking up behind you, wrapping his arms around you, soaking in your warmth while he pressed gentle kisses on your neck. He wondered what it sounded like to hear you laugh...
STOP STARING. Say something. Anything. Just. Try.
He cleared his throat. It must have startled you because you quickly turned to face him.
"I'm...sorry. About what you saw earlier. That's not like me. I-Embry, he can get under my skin sometimes," he rubbed the back of his head.
"But that's no excuse. I'm-um, Im Paul, by the way."
He lifted his hand up in an almost wave. Why was he so awkward? He was never this way with women.
You giggled, and suddenly, he felt like he was in heaven.
"Y/N. And no worries at all, Emily said you can be....'expressive' sometimes."
He chuckled.
"That's one word for it. But I just don't want to scare you off..."
"Well. I think if knowing that you can all turn into a large creatures who can rip me apart and that doesn't scare me away, I think you were okay." You smiled. He could look at that smile forever.
-
He was actually talking to you. Man, was his laugh so perfect. You could talk with him forever.
The kettle screeched, and you reluctantly made your tea.
"Well....I guess I'll see you around, Paul." You took your mug and headed for your room.
-
His name on her tongue. He wanted her to say it again.
"You can stay. If-if you want. I, uh, I don't...know much about you."
You smiled.
"I'd like that."
To be continued......
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citricacidprince · 3 months ago
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Does relativity falls Ford still wipe Stans memory's? And if so what is the aftermath?
Yes!! Ford still does erase Stan’s memory, I even did a drawing of it right here cause thinking about it hurts me soooo bad hehe
As for the aftermath, I have sooooo many thoughts
Stan still gets his memory back like in the show, however due to being 13 I like to think he didn’t come out completely unscathed. After all your mind is still growing at that age so i bet you ain’t gonna get out of a mind wipe without any side effects.
His mind quickly remembers everything he WANTS to remember or anything he considered important, however things Stan would rather forget or didn’t think were very important took longer to come back to him, if at all.
Here’s a quick doodle I did of Stan post series not remembering who his dad was for like 3 days because I thought of that randomly and it made me feel ill :)
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Stanley also begins to struggle in school, but like, 3 times worst before. Again, the memory wipe wasn’t very kind to him education wise, that stuff didn’t come back to him very easily. Stanford, who is easily the world most guilt ridden child, is dead set on making sure Stan can pass every grade with him, even if Stan has to cheat off his papers. Stan insists that Ford doesn’t have to go out of his way to help him but Ford won’t take no for an answer.
After Weirdmageddon the twins are attached at the hip and get really codependent on eachother and that doesn’t ease up as the years go on. Stanley feels more dumb the years go on but he feels happy that least he has his brother with him and Ford doesn’t treat him like an idiot. Stanford is constantly fretting over Stan, making sure he’s around if Stan has any memory lapses, or about to tackle someone like a rabid dog if they try fight Stan. It’s not the most healthy codependent relationship, but the two feel safe with each other and after all they’ve been through they can be a bit unhealthily codependent, as a treat <3
Filbrick still kicks Stanley out of the house when he’s 17, this time because he was furious at the fact Stanley wasn’t going to be able to graduate due to low grades and too many write ups. The main difference between the show here is that Stanford doesn’t even hesitate to walk out the door with Stanley, even when his dad tells him to go back inside. Ford almost lost his brother forever when he was a kid due to letting his father’s words bleed into his head, he refuses to ever let that happen again.
Stanley tearily calls Dipper and Mabel and tries to explain what happened before Stanford takes the phone and talks for Stan, explaining what happened and asking if the two could stay with them. Dipper and Mabel don’t even need to think about it, instantly fussing over the two as their voices overlap each others asking if the two are okay, if they need money, do they need to come get them, etc etc. Stanley insists that they’re fine and he’ll just take the 2-3 day drive to Oregon just like he did last summer when he got his permit.
The next morning their mother sneaks them into their old home and lets them take whatever they want and a wad of money she had hidden away, telling the two that she’s sorry but she was backed into a corner and didn’t know what else to do. Gave the boys a kiss on the cheek and ushered them out before their father caught on that they were there.
The drive is pretty quiet, the only disturbances being Ford asking Stan if he needs a break from driving to which Stan immediately turns down, and Stan guiltily saying that Ford didn’t have to leave with him to which Ford immediately shuts down that train of thought and says that where ever Stan goes, he’ll go.
When the two arrive at Gravity Falls Dipper and Mabel instantly squeeze the two to death, being nonstop worried ever since they got the call. Mabel helped the boys unpack while Dipper made a couple low threats into the phone and soon enough he had custody over the twins. (His blood boils when he thinks about how Filbrick didn’t even hesitate to give custody of Stanley, but fought about Stanford. Makes him happy that he never met the man in person.)
Stanley and Stanford finish off High School in Gravity Falls. Ford begins college courses online and Stan begins working at the Mystery Shack with Mabel and Anjelita, finding out he quite enjoyed theatrics and art, much to Mabel’s enjoyment.
I still want Stan and Ford to sail. Even if it’s just for a summer I want them to sail so bad. They deserve it.
I may put these boys through hell but I want them to be happy by the end of this that if they aren’t I think I would cry đŸ’„
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loviestar58 · 2 months ago
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💚~Ekko bf/general HC's Pt 2~💚
I had thought of more Hc's for Ekko and y'all seemed to enjoy the last one (more than I thought, honestly-) so I thought why not share more of them?
So here's some more of our favorite time boy!
Enjoyâ€ŒïžđŸ’–
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⏳~He definitely has a small collection of bonnets that he's either stolen, found, or had a fellow Firelight make for himself. He can make his own as well, but with limited sewing supplies, it's hard to do so. He started off just using any random piece of fabric he could find
⏳~He let's you help him with his retwists when it's the inevitable time to do them. If you don't know how to do retwists, he'll happily teach you, taking you step by step on what to do and what not to do, being very patient with you cause he knows it can seem like a lot to some people
⏳~Building off the last one, I do think he may be a bit tender headed. Not too bad, but if you do pull his hair a bit too hard when doing his retwists, he will groan in pain and squirm. He makes sure you don't feel bad about it though, unless you're doing it on purpose, then he'll keep squirming and trying to get you to stop all while feigning anger. He'd definitely get you back for that
⏳~Can blush really easily and gets bashful/flustered easily as well. If you start to make moves on him, he will be caught off guard. He's never had much experience in romance or these feelings, so he doesn't really know how to act on them, at least at the start of a relationship. He'd get more confident as time goes on, but that doesn't mean he still won't blush at a sudden flirtatious comment or sudden PDA he wasn't expecting, especially in public
⏳~Personally, I don't believe he's the jealous type. He may get a bit annoyed that you're spending less time with him and more with others, but it's not because he's jealous, he just likes spending time with you and having you near him. He'd be very confident in your relationship and bond, and would trust you wholeheartedly, letting you be your own person and go and do whatever you want.
⏳~He's not controlling at all, since he's all about freedom, he trusts you to take care of yourself and again, be your own person. That doesn't mean he isn't protective of you. He'll always be there to help and defend you if you need it, but only when he sees you're really struggling. He's especially protective on missions, always keeping an eye on you or having a buddy with you so your safety is more assured, but it's not overbearing
⏳~I firmly believe that Ekko loves to dance as evidenced by S2Ep7. I think he's more into interpretive dance or just following the beat of the music, following the music's lead. If you two dance together it'd be very much like that episode, or it could be more chaotic and you two will rule the dance floor with both of your sick moves. I also think he'd be really really good at breakdancing, have you seen how agile he is?
⏳~One of his favorite past times if it isn't a busy day at the base is to hang out with the kids. He'd play games with them, tell them stories from books or make up his own, and absolutely have hover board races with them (which you would join in on sometimes)
⏳~He can sing. Don't even try to tell me he can't. He would have a real smooth voice able to harmonize easily with people. If you can sing, better believe you two would be duetting often at random points when you're together. He would adore your voice. Even if you can't sing, he'd appreciate your humming with him. Puts the kids to sleep with his voice sometimes, especially if they have nightmares
⏳~Speaking of nightmares, he definitely has those way fairly often. Can you blame him? After thinking he lost everyone he loved, and believing it was his fault for years, it'd take it's toll. He'll toss and turn and even mumble in his sleep on rare occasions before he'd shoot up in bed, clutching his chest. Sometimes he'd yell out a name or a command to stop when he wakes up, which would wake you up if you're next to him. Comfort him, hug him close to you and whisper reassurances, he'll relax in no time. If it's a particularly bad nightmare, he'll stay up and try to do some work to distract himself, unable (or afraid) to go back to sleep.
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Some of these I had to do research on, mostly for the hair ones, as I am not black and didn't want to get some things wrong with how his hair would be taken care of. If I missed something or got something wrong, please let me know!đŸ™đŸŒ
Hope y'all enjoyed!💖
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letoasai · 6 months ago
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Phantom prompt- cold reception
After finding Ellie in his parents lab, Danny reacts poorly. He reveals himself to be Phantom immediately, and uses his ice to freeze his parents' feet to the floor. He freezes their hands together too to prevent them from grabbing any weapons.
He could take his parents not knowing about him. He could take them hunting him. He could take the verbal abuse during dinner as they casually spoke about their anti-ghost rhetoric. He could hide himself. What he couldn't take was Ellie getting hurt. He hadn't even known how long she'd been down there.
They were screaming at him, demanding to know what he'd done with their son as he lifted Ellie up into his arms. He needed to get her somewhere safe.
"I am your son, but you're never going to accept that, are you? You're never going to admit that your science is wrong. You're never going to admit that you're failures. You don't know anything about ghosts." Danny shifted Ellie in his arms so she would be more comfortable. She wasn't conscious, but she clung to him all the same.
"But you'll understand one day, when it's too late. The two of you are so ecto contaminated, you'll definitely become ghosts when you die. You infected everyone in the house with your samples and experiments. It won't matter then. Not at the end. I won't forgive you."
"Danny." He looked up at Jazz who was standing in the doorway. She jingled her keys in her hands. "Let's go." Danny had been happy to suffer in silence, but his sister had evidently been making plans for this day.
"Jazz, don't!" Maddie struggled against the ice restraints but couldn't get free.
Jazz gave her a pitying look. "You picked your science over your kids a long time ago." She didn't have more to say, simply nodded at Danny to follow her out of the lab.
Danny pressed his cheek to the top of Ellie's head and followed Jazz out. He didn't give his parents another glance. He wasn't sure when they'd lost his trust fully, but it was gone now. Maybe they'd shot at him one too many times.
"C'mon Ellie, we'll get you taken care of." Danny whispered. He'd remember to release the ice that held his parents in place in a couple hours.
~
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mggslover · 1 month ago
Text
The Holiday Getaway ❆
A Holiday to Remember: part 1
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In which the BAU's holiday getaway takes a dark turn when a family is found murdered on Christmas, forcing the team to investigate while reader struggles with painful memories of her past and her growing, unspoken feelings for Spencer Reid.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!bau!reader Genre: bau found family fluff and comedy, slight angst Content warnings: mentions of shitty past christmases, suggestive content Word count: 5,8k A/n: merry christmas eve! this is part 1 of my holiday special and focusses all on the fun, cute found family vibes of the bau outside of a case. next part will explore a crime case and delve deeper into reader's relationship with spencer (smutsmutsmut), so be sure to check it out tomorrow! don't forget to interact if you've enjoyed this, it'll mean a lot đŸŽ„đŸ€! dividers by @issysh3ll
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Snowflakes swirled against the windshield of the car, vanishing as quickly as they arrived thanks to the rhythmic sweep of the wipers. The soft hum of Christmas music filled the SUV, providing a festive backdrop to the ongoing bickering between Garcia and Morgan in the front seats. 
You were on your way to the BAU’s first official holiday getaway. It was a couple of weeks ago when Garcia came up with the idea to spend the holidays together. She planned the entire thing out and got a cabin in the woods booked, without so much as a heads-up to the team. Garcia was adamant about making this a traditional Christmas weekend getaway: Secret Santa’s, hot chocolate by the fireplace and snowball fights. As tempting and relaxing as those activities sound in comparison to the usual unsub hunting, a traditional getaway also meant no GPS, since that “ruins the fun”. So much for being a tech analyst.
“Okay, now take a right,” Penelope instructed Derek, holding a map like it was some kind of ancient artifact. “This is the shortcut. I swear.”
Derek raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “A shortcut? You sure? Because if we get lost again, I’m pulling up the GPS.”
Penelope made a face. “We do not need the GPS. I know this route like the back of my hand.”
Spencer and you shared an amused glance from the backseat, feeling like the younger siblings on a family road trip. You couldn’t help but wonder how the other SUV was doing. It wouldn’t surprise you if Hotch, Rossi, JJ and Prentiss already made it to the cabin, warming up by the fireplace, probably betting on how many wrong turns you'd taken by now. 
After about six more chess matches on your tablet with Reid, you’re already the children of the trip, no need to hide the iPad kid allegations, the car finally slowed as Penelope’s excited shriek filled the air, announcing that you’d arrived. 
You squinted through the window, shielding your eyes against the soft, bright snow that blanketed the landscape. There, nestled in the distance, was a massive wooden house with a smoking chimney, decorated in twinkling fairy lights. The scene looked copy pasted straight out of a Christmas movie. Spencer leaned in beside you, his curls brushing against your face, eager to see the scenery. When he pulled back, his eyes sparkled with excitement. 
“Come on, let’s go,” you said with a smirk, pushing open the door. Everyone piled out of the car, the crisp air biting at your skin. Derek moved to the trunk to grab the bags, handing them out one by one. The hum of the engines of the other SUV echoed in the distance as Hotch waved from the driver’s seat, pulling up alongside you. 
“Ha! I told you it was a shortcut!” Penelope teased, giving Derek a playful punch in the arm.
“I know, I know. Never doubted you, baby girl,” He responded, holding his hands up in surrender.
You turned to Rossi as he slowly emerged from the other car with a huff, stretching his legs in exaggerated motions.
“You doing alright there, Rossi?” you asked with a grin.
He groaned, bending down to touch his toes. “I didn’t sign up for a six-hour car ride,” he muttered. 
“Poor passenger princess,” you shot back, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips. 
Emily and JJ stepped out of the car, their boots crunching softly against the snowy driveway as they approached you.  
“How was the ride?” JJ asked, her breath visible in the crisp winter air.  
“An eventful one, that’s for sure,” you replied with a knowing smile. “What about you? What did you two get up to?”  
“Well, we took a trip down memory lane,” Emily smirked. “Rossi finally spilled the tea on what really happened with all of his ex-wives.”  
“No way!” you exclaimed in disappointment. “I’ve always been curious about what went down with his third wife.”  
JJ chuckled, her arm slipping through yours. “One of these days, I’ll give you the whole story—over wine, of course.”  
The group moved toward the house, and as you stepped inside, the scene before you took your breath away. If the exterior had been magical, the interior was nothing short of a Christmas dream come true.  
The vaulted ceiling soared high above, its beams adorned with twinkling lights and garlands of fresh pine. In the corner stood an enormous Christmas tree, its branches heavy with ornaments that shimmered in the golden glow of soft fairy lights. The very tip of the star-topped tree nearly grazed the ceiling.  
One wall of the living room was a seamless expanse of glass, framing a picture-perfect view of the Winter Wonderland outside. The warmth of the room drew you further in—a handwoven rug stretched across the wooden floor, anchoring a cozy sitting area arranged around a roaring fireplace. The flames crackled and popped, casting flickering shadows over the deep brown leather couches and armchairs.
Hotch and Derek, ever the gentlemen, were already gathering the luggage toward the grand staircase, Penelope instructing them on where to place everything.  
You laughed softly. For a moment, the scene around you felt overwhelming. Being surrounded by people who felt like family, people who cared enough to include you in something so meaningful—it was almost surreal. You couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, like you were stepping into a picture-perfect moment that wasn’t meant for you. 
The thought brought a bittersweet pang, memories of past Christmases creeping in. You remembered locking yourself in your room as a kid, trying desperately to block out the shouting from the other side of the door. And later, when you lived on your own, how the silence of those solitary holidays had felt just as loud.
You blinked back the sting in your eyes, unwilling to let the weight of the past overshadow the beauty of the moment. JJ squeezed your arm lightly, breaking you out of your thoughts. “You okay?” she asked softly, her eyes kind and knowing.
You nodded, managing a small smile. “Yeah,” you said, your voice a little uneven. “Just...taking it all in.”
JJ returned your smile. “She really outdid herself, huh?”  
Your gaze flicked to Garcia, now descending the stairs with Hotch and Morgan, their laughter filling the space. “Oh, she really did,” you chuckled, the aching feeling being washed away by gratitude.  
“My brilliant, beautiful people! Let’s gather around!” Garcia announced, her hands fluttering theatrically as she beckoned everyone closer. She reached into her coat pocket, taking a notebook out with on the cover a pug wearing a Santa hat. 
Clearing her throat with mock importance, she held the notebook up. “First of all,” she began, “I want to say how ridiculously happy I am to be surrounded by all of you today. Truly. I mean, look at us! My fabulous crime-fighting family, all gathered in one glorious Winter Wonderland!” She placed a hand over her heart dramatically. “I’m especially glad I managed to convince you all that spending the holidays here is way more important than whatever terribly mundane plans you had in mind for the weekend.”
Her announcement was met with a round of chuckles and a few amused groans.
“I won’t leave you hanging for that much longer, I know everyone is excited to go wander around, so now, I will be announcing the bedroom arrangements for the next two nights.” 
She flipped open her notebook with a dramatic flair. “For our fearless leader and our Italian stallion,” she began, gesturing dramatically toward Hotch and Rossi, “I’ve selected the room on the far left—peaceful, secluded, and far away from the rest of us loud, lovable lunatics.”
This earned some chuckles. Hotch and Rossi exchanged a nod.
“Next,” Garcia continued, “Emily and JJ, my glorious goddesses, you’ll be sharing the suite next door to them. Roomy, cozy, and perfect for midnight gossip.”
“As for me and Hot Stuff over here,” Garcia said, flashing a grin at Morgan, “we’ll be right next door to the goddess suite. And last, but certainly not least,” she declared, looking over at Reid and you, “my beautiful geniuses will take the far-right room. Bright minds need a quiet place to rest after dazzling us all day long.”
The group clapped and cheered as Garcia snapped her notebook shut with a satisfied nod. There were no surprises in the arrangements—everyone naturally gravitated to their usual pairings. With that, everyone began to disperse, laughter and easy conversation filling the air as they made their way toward their assigned rooms.
“I hope we get a room with a window,” Spencer said as the two of you walked toward the stairs, his tone light with anticipation.
“Oh, me too,” you replied with a dreamy sigh. “Imagine waking up to that view.”
When you reached the door to your room, you gestured for Spencer to open it. “Go ahead, Dr. Reid. The honor is all yours.”
Spencer turned the handle and stepped inside, his gaze immediately drifting to the far wall. “We did get the window room!” He said, his voice tinged with genuine delight.
But while Spencer was marveling at the view, your attention went straight to the king-size bed dominating the center of the room.
You froze. Then you heard it—the soft, innocent “Oh” from Spencer as he realized it too.
“Uh... yeah. One bed,” you said, your voice tight.
Spencer turned to you. “Well, at least the window is nice,” he offered helpfully.
You blinked at him, then quickly turned on your heel. “Wait here. Don’t move,” you ordered, making a beeline for the room next door.
Three sharp knocks later, Penelope swung the door open, her expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Is everything okay?”
You peeked into her room, your eyes landing on the two neatly made single beds. “Oh, everything is not okay,” you replied, crossing your arms.
“What’s up, sweet cheeks?” Penelope asked, feigning innocence.
“What’s up,” you said, voice rising slightly, “is that there’s one bed in our room. One!”
Penelope scrunched her face in mock surprise. “Oh no, that’s so weird! I could have sworn all the rooms had two beds.”
“Pen,” you groaned, narrowing your eyes. “How could you do this to me? I can’t share a bed with Spencer!”
“Why not? You have a crush on him!” Penelope replied, dropping the act. “I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“Yes, a crush!” you hissed, glancing nervously over your shoulder to make sure no one could hear. “Crushes are for daydreaming about, not for... for sharing beds! That crosses all the boundaries—professional, personal, existential! All of them!”
“We’re not at work, darling. We’re just a group of friends having a fun weekend together. Friends can totally sleep in the same bed without it being a big deal,” she tries to encourage.
You groaned again, burying your face in your hands. “This is a nightmare.”
Penelope stepped closer, her tone shifting to something gentler. “Okay, okay, calm down. How about this? Derek and I can swap rooms with you two. We’ll survive the whole one-bed situation, no problem.”
You peeked up at her through your fingers, your heart racing at the thought. “Oh, uh, no, no,” you stammered. “That’s not... necessary.”
Penelope’s eyebrow arched slowly, a knowing smirk creeping onto her face. “No?”
“No! I mean, we’re professionals, right? It’s just... sleeping. Innocent, completely normal sleeping, next to each other, in the same bed. Totally manageable,” you babbled, the words tumbling out in rapid succession.
Penelope crossed her arms, smirking even wider. “Uh-huh. I’ve never met two people more professional than you and Spencer.”
“Exactly!” you squeaked, nodding so fast it felt like your head might fall off. “I’ll, uh... I’ll just let him know we’re keeping the room.”
“Great plan,” Penelope said, patting your arm in encouragement. “Go get ‘em, babe.”
You shot her a panicked smile and turned back toward your room, heart pounding as you steeled yourself for the next step.
With a deep breath you entered your shared room again, seeing Spencer seated on the edge of the bed, playing with his tie. He looked up as you creaked open the door.
“Hi, I—uh, Penelope made a mistake with the beds,” you said, stepping into the room.
Spencer faintly smiled. “I assumed as much.”
“Is it okay if I grab a quick shower before the whole Secret Santa thing?” you asked, hoping to keep things casual.
“Of course!” he said quickly, nodding a bit too earnestly as he shifted on his feet.
“You can stay here, you know,” you offered, gesturing to the bed. “Watch some TV or something. I won’t take long.”
But Spencer was already shaking his head, waving off the idea. “No, no, it’s fine. I, uh, still have some things to take care of.”
“Alright,” you replied, trying not to overthink his reaction. Was the whole one-bed situation making him uncomfortable?
Spencer grabbed his bag and slipped out of the room as you headed for the connected bathroom. The moment you stepped inside, your annoyance with Garcia melted away.
The bathroom was like something out of a dream. Hanging lamps casted a warm, golden glow, and the walls were made of rich oakwood, giving the space a cozy yet elegant feel. The floor was cool stone tile, and to the left, a matching wooden vanity stood under a large mirror. On the right, a sleek glass shower. But the real showstopper was the round bathtub at the far end of the room, set under yet another window with a breathtaking view of the snow-covered trees. Judging by the controls on the side, it looked like it doubled as a hot tub. Either Penelope had blown the entire budget on this trip, or this was her attempt at matchmaking taken to the next level.
Shaking your head, you stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash away your tension as you tried to stop obsessing over the sleeping arrangements for the night.
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Meanwhile, Spencer was spiraling. The second he left the room, he raced to Penelope and Derek’s room, knocking urgently.
The door opened a crack, and Penelope peeked out. “It’s just a bed, don’t stress about—oh! Spencer!” she squeaked, clearly expecting you.
“I’m not worried about the bed,” Spencer said in a rush, his eyes wide and earnest. “I need to talk to Derek.”
Penelope blinked, thrown by his sudden intensity. “Uh... okay? Pretty sure he went outside to look around.”
“Thanks!” Spencer called over his shoulder, already halfway down the stairs.
Penelope watched him go, her curiosity piqued. “Oh, boy,” she muttered under her breath. “This is going to be so good.”
Spencer’s eyes darted frantically around the room until they landed on Derek. He sprinted toward him, halting abruptly when he saw that he was in the middle of a conversation with Emily.
“Derek,” Spencer called, getting his attention. “I need you.”
Derek raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at his lips. “Now, I was expecting you to confess to me one of these days, but certainly not like this,” he joked, making Emily stifle a laugh behind her hand.
Reid rolled his eyes, his voice tinged with impatience. “I’m serious. Please, just come with me.”
Derek glanced at him, clearly confused. “Alright, man,” he said slowly, trying to figure out what got Reid so worked up. Emily waved them inside as she stayed behind.
“What’s up?” Derek asked once they were inside. 
“You picked Y/N for Secret Santa.” Spencer stated.
Derek blinked, still processing. “Yeah, I did. Why?” His eyes widened as the realization hit him. “Oh, you peeked, didn’t you? Penelope’s going to kill you.”
“She doesn’t have to know,” Reid replied quickly, his voice almost pleading. “Look, I need to swap with you. I got Garcia.”
“What?” Derek asked, clearly offended. “No way. I already bought something for Y/N.”
“I’ve got something for Garcia too,” Reid said, lifting his bag as if to prove it, “it’s probably better than anything you could come up with.” 
Morgan shook his head, refusing to budge. “I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what you’ve got against Garcia, but it’s not happening.”
Spencer paused, pursing his lips. “It’s not about Garcia,” he began, thinking his next words through. “I’ve got something special for Y/N, and I really want to give it to her tonight.”
Morgan’s eyes widened in surprise. He had a thousand questions ready to ask, but over the years, he'd learned not to press Reid when he got this sincere. He’d be sure to get the full story from Garcia later.
After a long pause, Derek sighed. “Alright. Fine. But you owe me big time.”
Spencer exhaled in visible relief, a genuine smile flickering across his face. “Thanks, Derek.”
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You’ve got yourself all cozied up on bed, a book in your hands and wearing the matching Christmas pajama set you got with the girls. The door creaks open, and you look up to see Spencer standing there, a small smile tugging at his lips. His posture is less tense than before—his shoulders are relaxed, and the frown on his face seemed to have melted away. The time spent alone seemed to have calmed the both of you.
You turn fully to your side, facing him. “Hi.”
“Hey,” he replies. “How was the shower?”
“Oh God, Spence,” you sigh, the memory of it still fresh in your mind. “I swear, you need to give it a try. It was the most heavenly experience of my life.”
He chuckles in response. “I can’t say no to that.”
Spencer places his bag down on the chair by the door before heading into the bathroom. Your fingers flick through the pages, content when you find the sentence where you left off. 
Suddenly the peaceful silence is interrupted by a piercing scream. You’re sure you’ve broken a world record, because in a split second, you’re off the bed, gun in hand, and racing toward the bathroom door. 
You quickly scan the room, finding no danger. But there, standing under the shower, is Spencer—completely naked, eyes wide in panic, hands clutching at his skin. The glass shower walls don’t hide anything, and in a blur of horror, you realize everything is on full display.
You join his screaming, and instinctively, you spin around, covering your eyes even though your back is already to him.
“I didn’t see anything! I didn’t see anything!” you stammer, not sure whether you’re trying to convince yourself or him. Because, well, you definitely saw a thing.
Both of your screams come to a halt. The silence that follows is thick with awkwardness, and after a beat, Spencer’s voice cracks through the tension.
“You—you set the water temperature to 115 degrees!” he says, sounding somewhere between panicked and utterly exasperated.
You blink, still trying to recover from the shock of what you just witnessed. “I thought you were dying!” you blurt out.
“My skin was dying! You’re stripping away the natural oils your body produces to protect itself. You know the skin is an organ, right? It’s not some random thing you can just ignore. Plus, your body’s not a furnace—it can’t handle prolonged exposure to that kind of heat. It messes with your blood vessels, makes your heart race, drops your blood pressure. It’s like you want to dry out your skin and potentially knock yourself out.”
You throw your hands up in frustration, running your fingers through your hair. “Spencer, it’s freezing outside,” you argue.
He sighs dramatically, as if this is the least logical thing you could have possibly done. “Cold is a much better option—it buys you more time to either get to safety, or, well, succumb without experiencing rapid organ failure.”
You’re about to respond when you hear him turning on the water again—this time at a much lower temperature—and with a hasty glance over your shoulder, you quickly avert your eyes again.
You shake yourself out of the random exchange, your heart still racing. “Whatever. I’m going downstairs. I’ll meet you there.” You hurry out, hoping the quick exit will help shake the awkwardness.
Downstairs, Rossi is waiting for you in the open kitchen. He places a bottle of wine on the counter, offering you a glass with a smile. “A 2008 well-chilled Pouilly-FuissĂ© for the lady.”
You take it gratefully, letting out a soft sigh of relief. “Thank you. You have no idea how much I needed this.”
“Wine time already?” Emily asks, her voice filled with curiosity as she strolls over, raising an eyebrow at you.
“Every time is wine time,” Rossi replies with a wink, pouring her a glass as well.
Emily takes a sip, her sharp eyes immediately flicking over you, scanning you in that way she does when something’s off. You feel your cheeks flush, and of course, Emily notices.
“Alright,” she says, her voice dropping a notch, “spill it.”
You take a slow sip, swirling the wine in your glass. “I don’t think I should. You know, very expensive carpet and all that.”
Emily rolls her eyes but smiles. “Don’t try to outsmart me now. You’re rarely this flustered, and no—” she points a finger at you, “—you can’t blame it on the alcohol.”
You hesitate for a moment, then give in with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. Just
 Can we go somewhere a little more private?”
Emily’s grin widens as she leads you to the living room, and you both sit down. “So. You’re gonna tell me why you look like a deer in headlights.”
You glance around, making sure no one’s close enough to overhear. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, you say, “I just saw
 Spencer’s
”
Emily raises an eyebrow, urging you to go on.
You take a deep breath before muttering, “Penis.”
Emily almost chokes on her wine, letting out a wheeze and nearly dropping her glass.
You quickly hush her. “Oh, come on. It wasn’t a big deal.”
She recovers, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “No? So he’s
?” She makes the universal ‘small’ gesture, her fingers pinched with a tiny gap between them.
“No!” You blurt out, suddenly defensive. “No, no, not at all! He was
 he was good.”
The look on Emily’s face is pure delight as she bursts into a fit of laughter. “I cannot believe this. You just—wow.”
“It really isn’t that dramatic,” you mutter, hoping to deflect the tension. “I accidentally saw him in the shower.”
Emily’s eyebrows lift slightly, an expression that mixes curiosity with a touch of amusement. “Did anything happen?” she asks with interest, aware of the dynamic between you and Spencer.
“No,” You scoff with a short, dismissive laugh. “Especially not after I almost burnt his organs to a crisp.”
Confusion flickered across her face. You see it, but before she can ask for clarification, you wave off the subject.
Emily leans back on the couch, her eyes softening as she studies you, a calm yet knowing look settling on her face. “Look, I get it,” she says, her voice lower now, almost reassuring. “This was an awkward moment, but it’s not the first time you’ve wasted an opportunity in showing him how you feel. You’ve been tiptoeing around this for long enough. Come on, it’s Spencer. If there’s one person who you should feel comfortable with to confide in, it’s him."
“I know that,” you answer, the words coming out as a quiet sigh, the weight of it all pressing down on you. “It’s just not convenient. We’re colleagues, and on top of that, great friends. If I wanted to pursue something, I should’ve done it when I first joined the team. It’s too complicated now.”
She leans in slightly, her voice becoming more direct. “It’s only complicated because you’re making it complicated. You like him, and from what I can see, he feels the same. He’s probably just waiting for you to make the first move.”
You shift uncomfortably, not meeting her eyes, your fingers tapping nervously against your knee. You want to argue, but it’s hard to deny the truth. You’ve been tiptoeing around Spencer for so long—too long—burying your feelings beneath the surface where they could never cause any disruption.
“And if you don’t do something about it,” Emily adds, her tone soft but heavy with meaning, “you’ll regret it.”
A shaky exhale escapes you, as the reality of her words sinks in. “I don’t know, Em. There’s so much that could go wrong.”
Her gaze lingers on you, but it’s not pitiful. She sees right through you—sees the fear, the hesitation, the walls you’ve built up. The truth is, you’ve spent years convincing yourself that being close to Spencer was dangerous. Not just because of your professional relationship, but because of the way he anchors you—keeps you grounded when everything else feels unstable. He’s always been there, the rock you cling to when everything else feels uncertain. And the idea of stepping into something deeper with him, risking that connection, terrifies you more than anything.
Because if you lost him—if you let yourself love him and then something happened to him... you’re not sure you’d survive the fall.
The words you’ve been avoiding finally spill out of you in a quiet, strained whisper: “I’ve kept him at a distance, you know? I’ve always kept him at arm’s length because I’m afraid of what would happen if something bad happened to him. If I opened up, fully, and let myself love him
 what if I lost him, Emily?” You swallow hard, the vulnerability in your voice feeling raw, exposed. “It’s a risk I’m not willing to take.”
For a long moment, Emily says nothing. She simply watches you, her expression unreadable, but you know she’s hearing you. When she finally speaks, it’s with a calm certainty that cuts right through your fear. “There is also so much that can go right,” she encourages, the words simple but heavy. “You’re not the only one who’s afraid of losing something. He’s been walking the same tightrope for as long as you have.”
Her words linger in the space between you, the silence hanging heavy. She doesn’t look away, doesn’t let you escape the truth that’s been right in front of you all along.
You open your mouth to respond, but your throat tightens, the words getting stuck. The risk of losing him is real, but so is the risk of never knowing what could be. And the more you think about it, the more you realize that the regret of not trying, of letting fear hold you back, would hurt so much more than anything else.
Emily shifts in her seat, clearly sensing the shift in energy. “Alright, enough of the heavy stuff for now. We’re supposed to be enjoying the holiday, remember?” She glances toward the doorway where the sound of laughter and festive chatter floats in. “It’s Secret Santa time. Now just look cute and pretend you’re excited before Penelope walks in.”
You chuckle, giving Emily’s hand a light squeeze, silently thanking her for steering the conversation in a lighter direction. 
One by one, the team filters into the living room, settling into the couch and chairs. Spencer walks in last, looking effortlessly beautiful as always, his hair still damp from the shower.  He offers you a sheepish smile as he sits down beside you, and suddenly, the anxiety that’s been gnawing at you melts away. Emily was right, it’s just Spencer. Your Spencer. Everything is fine.
Penelope takes her rightful spot in front of the Christmas tree, her arms outstretched toward the pile of gifts that are scattered across the floor. Her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Alright, everyone! Get ready, because it’s time for Secret Santa!”
“How exactly are we going to go about this? Any specific rules or guidelines we should follow?” Reid asks in interest.
“I am so glad you asked,” she responds in delight. “We’re keeping it simple—because let’s be real, our brains have been on overdrive and we all need a break. Here’s the plan: We’ll go in a clockwise order starting with Emily. Everyone can pick a gift from under the tree and open it. After that, you’ll have to guess who it’s from. And once you make your guess, the Secret Santa will reveal themselves!”
“Sounds easy enough,” Emily announces as she stands up, walking toward the tree. Her eyes quickly landed on a package with her name scrawled in sharpie. She sits back down on the couch, everyone’s eyes fixed on her with eager anticipation as she tears into the wrapping. Inside, she finds a leatherbound journal with a blackbird embossed on the cover.
“I love the song,” Emily says, running her fingers over the emblem. She looks up at JJ, a knowing smile on her face. “This could be from no one but you.”
JJ smiles in return. “It’s for writing down the thoughts—and everything else—you don’t always feel like saying. Sometimes putting pen to paper helps more than we realize.”
Emily's smile softens at the gesture, touched by the thoughtfulness behind it. Next, it’s JJ’s turn. She received a sleek organizer, and as she flips it open, the first page is a collage of photos—her wedding pictures, memories of Henry, and fun moments of the team.
“Only a parent would add a page like this,” JJ says, recognizing the personal touch. She looks at Hotch, and he nods, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
“I figured it might help with the chaos,” Hotch replies.
“You’re all too good at this guessing game,” Penelope complains playfully. “It’s no fun when everyone’s a profiler.” She bends down to pick up her own gift, the package heavy in her hands. She sits on the floor as she unwraps it carefully.
When she sees what’s inside, her eyes widen in delight. Inside the package is a DVD player that also doubles as a radio—something you've seen in ads countless times.  “Oh my god, please tell me it has the voice,” she says, fingers hovering in excitement over the buttons. She presses one, and suddenly, Derek’s programmed voice comes from the speaker, making you snort.
“Hey, baby girl. It’s December 24th. Ready for some music?”
Penelope’s face lights up, and she squeals in delight, wrapping her arms around Derek and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “You’re the best!”
Derek shakes his head in amusement, giving her a quick smile before rolling his eyes at Spencer, who’s watching the exchange with an almost childlike excitement. 
Next, Derek gets a ticket to Vegas. “Once we have a free weekend, I’ll take you with me on my Sin to Win weekend,” she teases, and Derek laughs, already looking forward to it.
Just then, Hotch’s phone rings. “Excuse me,” he mutters, heading to the kitchen.
Penelope pouts. “It was his turn,” she says with disappointment.
“No worries, Garcia,” Rossi reassures her with a wink. “My present will be better anyway,” he jokes, making her smile.
He unwraps his gift—a vintage bottle of whiskey—and holds it up with a grin. “See? It doesn’t get better than this.”
Laughter fills the room, but your heart is pounding as it’s now Spencer’s turn. You watch him closely, knowing that this is the moment when he’ll open your gift. It’s a small box, and as he unwraps it carefully, his fingers pause when he sees what’s inside: an exclusive Doctor Who Time Vortex watch. The watch has a leather blue strap, gold-plated Roman numerals, and the intricate inner workings of the watch are visible through the glass. You’d spend ages hunting down this piece online, fighting off a dozen eager Doctor Who nerds, and paying well above the asking price just to secure it.
“Wow
” Spencer breathes, his voice tinged with awe as he examines the watch. His eyes flicker up to meet yours, immediately knowing it’s from you.
“How did you get this?” he asks softly, his eyes full of gratitude and wonder.
You smile, trying not to overthink your response. “It wasn’t easy, but you’re worth the effort.”
A blush spreads across Spencer’s cheeks, and for a moment, the two of you share a quiet, intimate glance. Just then, Penelope’s voice interrupts. “Hey, Y/N has two gifts! That’s not how this works!”
Spencer’s eyes narrow, shooting daggers at Derek, who unapologetically shrugs.
“Ooh, I’m special!” you tease, grinning as Penelope hands you two gifts—a big one and a small one.
“Big one first,” you say, excitement bubbling in your chest as you accept the pink box with a bow on top. You rip into the paper. A red lingerie set stares back at you from under the packaging, and you throw your head back in a laugh.
A few weeks ago, Derek had come back from another late-night fling, and the conversation still echoed in your mind.
“How come women only own the same three pairs of bras?” he’d asked, genuinely perplexed.
You’d just sighed, shaking your head. “Derek, you’re lucky you don’t have boobs. Finding a bra that fits—and is affordable—is probably the hardest task one could face.”
Now, with the lingerie in your hands, you raise an eyebrow at Derek. “Do I want to know how you got my exact size?”
Derek looks over at Penelope with a sheepish grin. “I had some help from one of Santa’s elves.”
Penelope mischievously adds, “I may have hacked your computer to check out your purchases.”
You raise your hand in a dramatic, 'there you go' gesture, not at all surprised. “Of course you did.”
“Well,” you begin, looking at the box in your hands, “just know that you're never gonna see me in this.” You wave the red lace and satin teasingly in front of him, feeling a surge of amusement as Derek’s face falls in exaggerated disappointment.
You laugh, then glance over at Spencer, who’s sitting beside you. You can barely make out his muttered, “Good,” under his breath, though it’s enough to catch your attention.
You’re about to take initiative, maybe throw some playful banter his way, when the sudden sound of footsteps in the hallway cuts through the light moment. The door to the living room opens with a soft creak, and you look up as Hotch strides into the room. His jaw tight, his posture all business, and you can feel the shift in the air immediately.
“We’ve got a case. A family is murdered twenty minutes away from here.”
PART TWO
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obsessedhoneycomb · 20 days ago
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Cool Daddy Russell
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George Russell x fem!reader
Summary: While watching your son grow up and supporting his racing career same as his father’s, you need to find balance in your family life. Being pregnant again, with the possibility of your husband retirement (he’s just joking, but you never know), it looks much easier this time.
Warnings: none, just love and pregnancy
A/N: To be honest, I really struggled with how to name this one. Started this between Christmas, when I saw some photos of George from earlier years of his career, and woke up today to finish it. I really love the idea of being pregnant with George, so
 Enjoy it!
Please don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.
———
As much as you adored your son, it was really exhausting to attend the races, now F3. Apart from your super successful husband George Russell, who was in his last years of the F1 career (as he liked to say for most of the time), you were the one to be with Alex, your fifteen year old son, at his races. He practically grew on the grid, when you were accompanying George through the seasons, his own desire to start karting grew rapidly, same as his feet out of his shoes.
Now you stood at the sideline, watching the practice session, where your son participated. George promised to make it, to jump from his tight schedule. Alex really wanted his father to be there, because this weekend he had the best chance to win a championship, being only a few points behind his leading teammate.
When you nearly lost a hope about George’s presence, he just appeared next to you with a wide and proud smile, looking over the track for the sign of his son.
“Well, hello, Mr. Mercedes.” You let out an amused chuckle at the nickname you used from the time he won his first F1 championship. His smile grew into a grin, kissing your cheek, while his hand rested on your baby bump.
“How’s our little girl doing?” Whispering into your ear, while he nuzzled his nose into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo he immensely loved, he still managed to hold his gaze over the track.
“She’s good, but mommy is tired.” You chuckled, enjoying the much needed closeness of his body.
“I know, I’m sorry. I tried to be here yesterday already, but you know how it goes..”
“That’s okay. Alex nearly had a panic attack and was about to lose his mind, at the idea of you not being here.”
You said it so casually, that it made George back off a little to look at you with concern.
“Well, happy to be here.”
The age gap between your kids really didn’t bother you, you were happy to be pregnant again after that long time, because there wasn’t time for parenthood with George’s hectic life. You spent so much time at the sidelines with your son, that idea of having another child hadn’t crossed your mind. You were grateful that your due date was at the end of the F1 season, when your son and husband will be home with you, waiting for arrival of a new addition to your family. What was worrying you more, was that with Alex possible move up to the F2, there would be no one to accompany him on his races as you did to this time.
“You’re worried again. What is it this time?”
George’s voice interrupted your thoughts.
“Just.. who will be with Alex next season? It surely can’t be me.” Your look dropped at your swollen belly.
George fixed his cap, thinking for a few moments, his face having that strange expression he always had, when he hid something from you.
“George?”
He looked at you, then over at the track, when he caught a glimpse of the car of his son’s team. Smiling proudly, he now stood in front of you, his left hand over your shoulder and the right over your belly.
“I wanted to tell you later, but.. I was thinking about it for a long time, I’m practically champion again, but it’s not as it used to be. Through those years I managed to win it for five times, and now I feel that it’s enough. That I want to spend more time with my family, with you. Time fly by so fast and I really don’t remember the last time we had a time for ourselves only. Oh, yeah, I remember, it was that night that resulted in you being heavily pregnant now.”
You let out a soft laugh, his smug smile flashing at you, caressing your belly proudly.
“So
 what I’m trying to say is, that I want to retire. And I’ll be there for Alex next season. He’s gonna have the best coach he can get.”
Looking into your eyes, he tried to catch on your reaction. But you were shocked at first and then relieved.
“Finally..” you teased him with playful smile.
“Hey! I’m not that old.” George pouted innocently.
“Being nearly forty is not that old.” You were still making fun of him.
“Well, yeah, I was talking about retiring for past years, but it was just a joke. Now it’s not.”
Placing your hands over his cheeks, you kissed his nose sweetly, taking in his growing facial hair.
“You really plan on to stop shaving your face?”
“I look more cool now. Cool daddy Russell.”
George smirked and you just bursted into laughter.
“You’re surely daddy, but cool
”
“Little miss, you’re enjoying this too much, don’t you?”
“I love to tease you, baby.”
———
Alex stepped out of the car, his frustration clear, he was concerned about his performance next day, he needed to qualify on top positions to win a championship.
“Great job on the track, buddy.” George’s voice interrupted his thoughts, he couldn’t believe that his dad was there.
“Dad.. you’re here.”
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss your big weekend.”
George hugged him tight, always being proud of him, even though he didn’t score, he was still proud that name Russell was present at the motorsport.
Alex wrapped his arms around him too, nearly losing his emotions.
“But what if I won’t get it? What if I’m not good enough to be a champion?”
George gave him a reassuring pinch on his cheek with smile. Alex was like his carbon copy, but he had your eyes and smile.
“Son.. you were always enough and surely there’s always place for being even better, but don’t underestimate yourself. You’re strong, you have a great mind, you’re determined driver. I believe in you.”
“Thanks, dad. This means so much to me.”
“I’m proud of you already, Alex.”
You were watching them from afar with wide smile, happy to have your little family reunited.
———
With Alex’s F3 championship and George’s F1 championship now secured, you were ready for Christmas but also for the birth of your baby girl.
George’s retirement was wild, everybody on the grid was shocked but understanding. He was enjoying his time with the family, being glued to your side now, when the baby was about to come.
Day before Christmas your water broke and you went into labor, the birth being quick and easy, which was like a gift for you.
Laying on the hospital bed, propped against the pillows, your face being slightly exhausted, you were holding your baby girl against your chest, while she cooed from her sleep. George, sitting beside you, his finger caressing the small soft cheek of the baby, was smiling proudly. The room was quiet, holding the peaceful moment of the new life.
“Well
 we named Alex after your best friend. So, what do we have in mind this time?”
You chuckled softly at the memory of naming your firstborn after Alex Albon.
“What about Charlotte?” George smiled, looking at you.
“Mmm
 that sounds nice. Charlotte Russell. And who do we honour this time?”
“This name stuck in my mind lately. But some would say that it’s close to Charles Leclerc.” George rolled his eyes annoyed.
“Still not over that year he stole your championship?”
“I will never- hm. Even though you had a hard time birthing our baby, you have energy to tease me.”
You let out a soft laugh, kissing his cheek. “It wasn’t that hard. Quite easy.”
“Yeah. I saw it on your face.”
George scrunched his face in slight frown, his eyes now full of worry.
“I hate to see you in pain. Even though I’m making fun of it later. Because I’m trying to lighten up the situation.”
“I know you, George. I know that you care for me. But I’m good now. Healthy and safe, same as our little girl. I won’t be in this situation again.”
George gave you a mischievous smile. “You sure? With me home now, retired, I’m ready to give you more babies. I kinda like you pregnant.”
You gave him a feigned offended look saying ‘I just gave birth, are you kidding me?!’
He started to laugh, placing a soft kiss to your temple, looking down at their daughter.
“Don’t worry, just kidding. It’s up to you. I’ll be just a donor.”
“George!”
With your voice raised up, and his loud laugh, the baby started to cry again.
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supernotnatural2005 · 2 months ago
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'Ride em' Cowgirl'
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Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word count: 3.3k
Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY, swearing, fluff.
AN: Here it is, the requested part 2 of my 'Giddy up Cowboy' Drabble. I'm blown away by all of the love and support on my work lately and had to give you something tasteful in return for all your lovely appreciation. I hope you enjoy â˜ș
Tagging: @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog and @rizlowwritessortof
Main Masterlist
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The ride back to the motel feels like an eternity. The engine of the Impala hums beneath you, a comforting sound you’ve grown used to over the past few months of hunting with the Winchesters. But tonight, that familiar hum does little to calm the storm that’s building in the air between you and Dean.
Sam sits in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the electricity crackling in the space between you and his older brother. His head is turned slightly, eyes focused on his phone as he scrolls through something, probably researching the next hunt. He’s completely oblivious, lost in his world, but you and Dean? You're both caught up in something far more dangerous.
You shift in your seat, the leather of the Impala's interior squeaking slightly beneath you, but it’s nothing compared to the way your body is reacting to the proximity of Dean, to the memory of the words you said back at the bar. "I think I can ride him better." The double meaning of the comment, the tease that you’d laid on him, was still hanging heavily in the air.
You glance at him, his profile visible from the corner of your eye. His jaw is tight, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too hard, and you can’t help but notice the way his bicep flexes with the tension. The urge to reach over and touch him, to bridge that last bit of space between you, is almost overwhelming.
Sam’s voice pulls you from your thoughts as he glances over his shoulder, a slight grin on his face. “You two are awfully quiet. You sure everything’s alright?”
Dean clears his throat, his voice low, a little too steady. “Yeah, we’re fine, Sammy. Just tired.”
Sam nods, not catching the edge in his brother’s voice, and goes back to whatever he’s reading on his phone. You, however, catch the way Dean’s eyes flicker to you—a brief glance, but enough to make your pulse quicken. You feel that familiar heat rise between you both, the kind that only the two of you understand.
Every mile feels like it stretches on forever. You catch Dean’s gaze again, and this time, his eyes linger a little longer, something raw and unspoken in them. You know he’s struggling to keep his composure, just as you are.
Finally, the motel comes into view. The neon lights of the sign flicker, the soft hum of the parking lot filling the quiet car. Sam lets out a loud yawn and stretches, oblivious to the way the tension between you and Dean has reached its breaking point.
“Man, I’m pretty beat.” Sam says, giving you both a tired smile as he climbs out of the car. You and Dean follow suit, both of you stepping out with a quiet but unmistakable urgency.
Dean’s hand brushes against yours as he walks you to your room—just a few doors before his and Sam’s, and it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. You both stand there for a moment, looking at your motel room door in front of you, the unspoken weight of everything you've both been avoiding for so long finally sinking in. 
Sam walks on ahead, muttering something about needing to “hit the hay,” and you both watch as he disappears into the room before Dean turns to you, his voice low and controlled. 
"You weren’t kidding earlier, huh?”
"No," you say, your voice just above a whisper, because you can’t take it anymore, and it’s enough to send the heat between you two spiralling. "I wasn’t.”
Dean doesn’t need any more encouragement. He moves first, closing the distance between you two with a single, decisive step. His lips crash against yours, hard and desperate—like he’s been holding back everything he’s been feeling for far too long. 
His mouth is warm and insistent, and you open up to him instinctively, your hands finding their way to the open fabric of his flannel, pulling him even closer. 
You moan into the kiss, clinging to him as if he were your last source of oxygen. Consuming what he was willing to give as long as he was willing to give it. Dean’s hands slide down to your hips, gripping hard enough to leave small fingerprint indents when your tongue slides past his lips. His responding groan is low, bordering on a growl, and he walks you back against your door, his hands unable to stay in one place for too long. 
His touch, his scent, and his delectable mouth were quickly descending you into a state of ecstasy. You were already hooked and desperate for more. 
“Inside.” You mumble against his lips, and he offers you a curt nod before he breaks the kiss, allowing you a moment to breathe as you turn to unlock your door. He’s already pressing himself against you from behind, his hands wandering from your hips to boldly cupping your breasts over your thin t-shirt, beneath your jacket.
It takes you until your third try before you finally stumble inside. Dean quick to kick the door shut with his foot as he ravishes your neck with wet kisses and thumbs at your pebbled nipples poking through your lace bra, risen from both his ministrations and the cool air.
You push back against him and gasp at the feel of his obvious arousal through his jeans. His reaction to you sent a thrill of excitement through you as well as a feeling of pride swelling in your chest. 
"Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Wanted you.” Dean pants into your neck as you roll your hips against him. He presses into you with each roll, making his eyes roll back and his hands move to find purchase on your hips again. 
“I think I have some notion.” You quip with one last push back against him before turning in his arms. You offer him a sly smile and look up at him through your lashes as you trail and hand down his firm chest and over his toned stomach before cupping him through his jeans. His hips instinctively thrust into your palm, and you grant him some relief by adding pressure and rubbing your hand along his length. 
His gaze is stormy as he looks down at you, watching you watch your own hand grope him in wonder. It was one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. Suddenly, he pulls your hand from him, the feeling both incredible yet frustratingly not enough, and you look up at him in question, but he’s quick to reclaim your lips again. 
The urgency from before is back with a vengeance as you claw at each other’s clothes, peeling away layers upon layers between heated kisses, until finally, you’re left in nothing but your panties, and Dean in his boxers. 
His gaze roams over you unapologetically, taking in every curve and scar; your heaving breasts on display with a hunger you’d never seen in another man's eyes before. But there was more behind his desire. There was a look of longing, of wanting this for so long and finally having it, simmering within those pools of green. And you understood. Because you felt the exact same. 
As if in sync, you reached for one another again. Dean’s hands framed your face as he dipped down to kiss you again. This time softer, more tender, making you all but melt into his arms. He walked you backwards, never parting his lips from yours, until the backs of your thighs met the edge of the mattress. 
You pulled away from him then and climbed up onto the bed, with him quickly following, crawling up and over you like a predator stalking his prey. Your head fell back onto the pillows as his firm body covered yours, his mouth quickly attaching itself to your neck, kissing, sucking, and nibbling at the tender flesh until you were bucking your hips up against him. 
He smirks into your neck, loving the fact you were so reactive to him, even by the simplest of touches. He decides to give you some relief and trails his mouth down your body, stopping at your chest. He waited for you to look at him, his warm breath fanning over your perked nipple, and only when you finally meet his gaze does he wrap his lips around your pebbled nub. 
Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, watching his eyes fall shut as he sucked and nibbled at your nipple. The sensation was almost overwhelming, and your hips ground for any kind of friction to relieve the building ache between your legs. Your hand slid into his hair, pulling harshly at the soft spikes atop his head, making him groan, and the vibration sent tiny shocks of pleasure throughout your nerve endings. 
He moves onto your other breast, the wetness of your abandoned nipple cooling against the air conditioning unit, softly buzzing in the background, the feeling only adding to the incredible pleasure his mouth was giving your other breast. 
“Fuck, Dean.” You gasp, just as his left hand trailed down your side and sneakily slipped into your panties. Two of his thick digits were quick to find your clit and you shuddered from the contact. He begins to circle your bundle of nerves slowly, much like the motion of his tongue against your nipple. 
You fist his hair again, moaning loudly as he dips an experimental finger into your soaked hole, gathering your wetness and resuming his attention back on your clit. 
“You’re so wet, baby.” He grunts against your chest, frowning in concentration as he picks up his pace. “That all for me?” All you could do was nod and then cry out as his fingers rubbed you faster, sending jolts of pleasure down to the tips of your toes, which soon curled as your body began to tense. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You repeated it like a mantra, the coil in your belly wound tight and ready to spring. 
“That’s it, baby. Cum all over my fingers.” He husks in your ear, and you look down your body, watching the muscles in his forearm dance with effort from the maddening pace of the hand buried deep in your underwear. The sight was your undoing, and your whole body stiffened. Mouth dropping open in a silent scream, the sound trapped in your throat as your body convulsed and shuddered against him. 
Dean’s hand began to slow with your descent into bliss, coming to a complete stop once you deflated back onto the mattress, completely boneless. 
“Holy shit.” You huffed with an incredulous chuckle because, holy shit. You’re not even sure you’d ever come so hard with your own hand. And if just his fingers could bring you so much pleasure, it left you wondering what else you were in store for. Although you didn’t have to wonder for much longer when Dean shifted beside you and you felt the straining press of his cock against your thigh. 
You turned to him and cupped his cheek with your right hand, pulling him into a slow and sensuous, grateful kiss. He hummed happily against your lips as you rolled him onto his back. His arms coming up to wrap around you, to keep you close as you took his breath away. 
With him distracted, you grasped his tented length, massaging him as best you could through the fabric of his boxers. He broke the kiss and dropped his head back against the pillows, eyes shut tight as you relieved some of the pressure. 
You smiled devilishly at him and rose to your knees beside him. He watched you in wonder as you peeled the last item of clothing from him, helping you by lifting his hips. Your eyes widened in both shock and amazement at the sight of him. Your mouth watered and pussy throbbed, desperate for a taste, for the feel of him inside you. 
You gathered him in your hand, relishing in the warm weight of his impressive cock. Dean released a deep sigh at the feel of your delicate hand slowly, teasingly pumping him. He was as hard as granite, throbbing in your hand, and you marvelled at the way your simple movements had him panting, wanting and desperate beneath you. 
Laying comfortably between his parted thighs, You ran your tongue along the length of him. The deep, responsive moan from him giving you the encouragement to do it again and again until he was slick with your saliva and fisting the sheets beneath him tight. 
“Holy.. shit.” Dean gasped as you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his silky head before sinking your mouth onto him. The action brought with it a salty tang and a variety of praises and profanities. Between your legs, a new wave of wetness coated your already ruined underwear as you worked him over in your mouth and with your hand. 
Looking up at him, he was a sight to behold. His skin glistening, chest heaving, sinful lips parted, and eyes squeezed shut. He was beautiful in every scenario it seemed. 
“Oh God.” Dean’s eyes snapped open then, his body tensing, and he quickly sat up, pulling you from him. You looked at him alarmed, wiping at the spit collected at the corners of your mouth. 
“What? What’’s wrong?” You lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, waiting for him to take a few deep breaths before he released a breathless chuckle.
“You were about to make me cum.” He told you honestly, and you blushed a little, but wondered why he’d stopped you? 
“And?” You giggled softly, though squeaked, when he suddenly manhandled you into his lap. You had to bite back a groan at the feel of his hard length bumping against you through your panites. 
“And? I was promised a ride.” His voice is low and sultry, but his face is filled with his usual boyish, giddy excitement. You giggled and shook your head, realising you’d somehow fallen for a complete dork. 
You cup his scruffy cheeks in your palms and plant a warm kiss against his lips, the smiles on your faces quickly fading as your tongue swept against his, reigniting the ache between your legs and the need for more. 
You reluctantly pull away and slide off of him, removing and kicking away your underwear before climbing back onto him. He welcomes you eagerly, claiming your mouth once again with a kiss filled with passion and ignition. 
You slowly guide him onto his back and pull away breathless. His hands slide from your back to your hips as you sit up, grinning down at him. His green eyes look up at you, dark and entranced, roaming over every inch of you in amazement. 
You bite down on your lip as you settle against him, the wet seam of your pussy covering his length, making you both groan at the contact. You roll your hips experimentally, your head falling back as you steadied yourself against his firm stomach, picking up your pace until you were slick and ready. 
“Fuck sweetheart. You’re a dream.” Dean says breathlessly and with an honest gaze. You smirk down at him, slowing your roll, and he watches you. 
“I think it’s time I make do on that promise.” You tell him. “Think I can last the full 90 minutes?” You tease, and Dean chuckles, rubbing lovingly at your thighs, hips, and up your sides. 
“I have no doubts, baby.” 
In one swift movement, you rise up on your knees and grasp his length, angling him just right before you sink down onto him. Both of your mouths drop open in respective pleasure. You’re slick enough to take him most of the way, only rocking gently a few times until he’s fully sheathed. 
“Fuuck.” He moans, and it’s long and drawn out because Dean can’t quite fathom the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. He’s been to heaven, hell, and everything in between, but this was something else entirely. The best pie he’d ever tasted, the feeling he got behind the wheel of baby—all things paling in comparison to this moment.
Once the initial stretch of him blurred from pain into pleasure, did you then rise up and slowly slide back down, gasping in almost disbelief at the incredible feel of him inside you. You repeated the movement again and again until you built up a steady rhythm, rocking, rolling, and grinding your hips to find the most intense spots of pleasure. 
All the while Dean let you ride him, watching in awe as you did in fact “ride him better." However, to give you a challenge, he bucked his hips up into you, meeting you thrust for thrust. You held on tightly, eyes rolling back at the much harsher thrusts hitting you just right, but you weren’t about to let him win. 
With one hand firmly planted on his chest, you leaned back, reaching your arm around to fondle his balls. Dean jolted in surprise but moaned deep and loud as you gently caressed them in your palm. You smiled in triumph as he relinquished his thrusts, and you sped up your movements, feeling his balls draw tight. 
“Oh, fuck, oh shit.” His words were breathless and strained as his body tensed, brow furrowing, hands gripping tight onto your hips as he came. Hard. You felt his warm seed coat your walls along with a long, deep groan as you circled your hips, milking every last drop. 
You grinned down at him as he collapsed back onto the bed, panting hard and weightless. You could feel him still twitching inside you, and you involuntary clenched at the sensation, making his head pop back up to look at you. 
His eyes were wild, his chest flushed red, and wordlessly he slid a hand over to your lower stomach, his thumb pressing against your sensitive clit, making you gasp. Dean’s eyes closed at the feeling of you clenching around him but began circling your clit with the digit, watching on in admiration as you slowly rocked your hips into his hand, chasing your own sweet release. 
Dean was a generous lover, but you’d given him a run for his money in that department tonight. It was only common curtesy he had you come again. Even if your pussy was all but strangling his sensitive cock, it felt incredible—a sensation he’d never felt before. He could feel himself hardening again at just the sight and feel of you, surprising you as much as himself. 
“Oh God.” You cried out, your walls fluttering around him as you ground into his hand, his thumb flicking against your clit, harder and faster until you were shaking above him. Then he thrust his hips up, once, twice, three times, and you were falling apart. Your body tensed and twitched above him, your mouth falling open in a silent cry as the white hot pleasure of your orgasm rippled through you.  
“Shit.” Your eyes popped open when you felt it. Warmth spread inside you for a second time as Dean cried out in painful pleasure. Holy shit was all that you could comprehend as he tensed beneath you. 
Shocked silence filled the room as you both stared at one another, catching your breaths, until a chuckle of disbelief slipped from his lips, triggering your own laughter.  
You fell onto his chest, letting his soft cock slip from you with a slight hiss from him. You soothed a hand a long his chest, planting a sweet kiss there before leaning up and coming face to face with him. 
"So, was I
Better?” You wondered curiously, whilst absently playing with his mused, sweat slicked hair. Dean grinned in response and cupped your jaw tenderly. 
"Oh, you so were." He replied before pulling your lips to his. 
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AN: Okay so this one was just pure smut! 😂 but let me know what you think? Was this a good tie up for these two 👀
355 notes · View notes
viktorsblanket · 9 months ago
Note
Hi reqesting a headcanon where in another au toji's wife died while giving birt to megumi and so Toji was by himself and had no clue on how to raise a kid so he went to a parenting class where he met male!reader who also his also a single father. Toji starts falling for male!reader
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Toji HC’s
Note ~ of course, thank you so much for the request!!
MENTIONS — MaleTeacher!Reader, SFW, Fluff?, mentions of death and struggle, kissing, Toji falls in love with reader, Reader takes care of Megumi, some angst-ish, love confessing.
— After Toji’s wife died he wasn’t really in a good state but he still had to try for the thing she left, their child, Megumi. He didn’t know how to take care of their child and he was completely lost, he’d searched up online if there were any type of learning ways on how to raise a child, there were classes he could attend for people like him. Who were also confused on how to raise a child.
— Toji started attending these parenting classes, at first he was confused but he kind of got the hang of it?..you’d have to help and correct him here and there but that’s what these classes were for, for you to help those who were confused, especially him.
— Toji appreciated your help a lot, he’d even ask if you could give him extra time to figure some things out he wasn’t sure on and you agreed, he was a nice guy and was a caring father trying for his child of course you’d say yes with no hesitation.
— During the times you did extra lessons with him the more you knew about him, and his child. You felt bad for him especially his child. The mother had passed away to birth due to a lot of blood loss, you felt bad for Toji and his child, Megumi. Toji would assure you that it’s okay and he’s grateful he has a helping hand with Megumi and someone who could help him during these hard times.
— Toji was a tough guy to crack, you couldn’t really read his emotions or tell how he was feeling. You both weren’t on that level of trust yet to were he’d tell you everything, Toji needed help with his child that is what he was there for. Not for friends..he didn’t see you as a friend a bad thing though. He just didn’t want to get distracted from the main point at hand, his child’s future.
— Little by little Toji has been picking up what you’ve been teaching him and he was glad he was able to raise Megumi correctly, he would thank you and you were a great help. He’d sometimes gave you a small genuine smile that you rarely see, a different side of him. He really was a sweet guy.ïżŒ
— as weeks, months, and maybe a year went by Megumi was growing up fast, Toji would sometimes come to you for help with Megumi when he was confused on behavior or what to do with Megumi’s change of growth. He’d even tell you that Megumi took his first steps recently and began speaking slowly, you were happy to hear that especially from the lessons you gave Toji you were glad he was putting them to use.
— Time from time Toji would invite you over to his place or even ask you out, as friends of course. He wanted to show his appreciation and also wanted to get closer to you, to be close with someone who helped him through a hard time and is still helping him. Usually he would take you for a bite to eat or a stroll out bringing Megumi, of course you didn’t mind because he was a single father and had no one else to take care of him.
— Toji felt closer to you, trusted you more, he told you how he was feeling more often and was more soft with you. He felt a strange feeling when around you or when talking with you..a good feeling? Like his body was happy and his insides felt fuzzy and warm, he couldn’t help but smile around you. He’d always ask how you are and if you are busy with work so the both of you can make plans, and if you’re free he’d always snatch you up after work. You loved when Megumi came along he was really cute, he even learned how to say your name. It made your heart melt, he was such an adorable kid and Toji was such a good father, you also felt a way towards him but you tried to push those feelings aside, he lost his wife almost a year ago and he was a single father, plus was he even gay? You were sure but didn’t want to push the matter. You were glad the both of you were good friends anyways.
— months go on, you both are still great friends. Toji would still come around to your work place here and there to ask for help or what he should do with/for Megumi. And of course..you were more than happy to help.
— Toji starts to feel something towards you..at first he thought it was just him being comfortable with you but he figured out it was more than that, at first he tried to deny it. He wasn’t gay, he couldn’t be, he has a wife..or well he had one. He feels a romantic feeling towards you and he’s unsure if it’s mutual, he assume it isn’t because he’s just some guy who could barely afford his rent and needs help to take care of a kid. Who’d want a guy like that? Sure he was good looking but he didn’t think he’d even have qualities of a partner. He tried to push those feelings aside and just wanted to remain your friend, he doesn’t want to lose what he has with you already.
— Toji who would always text and call you showing you how Megumi was doing and always made sure to thank you, it really made your day. It was so cute on how good of a father Toji was, he was so sweet towards Megumi honestly so heart warming, you’d reassure him it was no problem and that was what you were there for.
— Toji was usually busy with work to provide for himself and Megumi, but he managed to pull through. Especially thanks to your help, it didn’t help his feelings what so ever, his feelings towards you grew even stronger. He was beginning to love you and he couldn’t control it. To Toji you were such a sweet and cute guy, he’s never felt that way about a man like that before, and he’s never even gave it though..dating a guy? He wasn’t sure anyways. He tried to shove those thoughts away but couldn’t due to the image of you he had in his head. A sweet, caring, loving guy who was great with kids. To him you were also very pretty, very handsome, you made his heart flutter whenever he saw you.
— Toji couldn’t get you out of his mind so he got a sitter for the day and invited you out, he wanted to take a walk and have a talk with you. You happily obliged and were curious to what he wanted to talk about, once the both of you were hanging out he explained to you how he was feeling.
“Hey, sorry for the random call, jus’ wanted to talk to ya’ about sumthin’.” He spoke looking at you, gazing into your eyes before looking away, you told him it was okay and not to worry about it! As the two of you were walking and taking a stroll in the park he confessed..he told you how he was feeling about you and wanted to know how you felt, you looked happy, your eyes where glimmering with happiness as you gave him a warm smile and spoke back to him, “I’ve also felt that way towards you as well, Toji! I did not know you’d feel something like that towards— towards me..it’s honestly quite shocking but I’m really happy.” You hugged him tightly as he hugged you back wrapping his arms around your torso. He smiled before he used his hand to lift up your chin and slowly lean towards you, he kissed you gently and softly. You gasped but got used to it and kissed him back, melting into the kiss as you felt like you were on cloud nine.
— Toji who started dating you after that day happened, he’d cover Megumi’s eyes when you and him would kiss, he’d compliment you, tell you how much he loves you, he’d try his best to spoil you in anyway he can. He’s completely infatuated with you, Inlove, it wasn’t a bad thing because so were you.
— you and Toji moved in together a few months after dating, you would help around with Megumi as he was working, of course you still did you job too you would even bring Megumi to work with you occasionally. You and Toji shared a room, he was sweet to you, he’d help you as much as he could, he’d go on about how much he loves you, protects you, tells you he will always make sure you’re safe and loved when you’re with him
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thedensworld · 10 months ago
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Just Like You | C.Hs
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Pairing: vernon x reader
Genre: fluff, established relationship, catlover!
Summary: Hansol never understands what's on his kid's head. However, he ends up seeing himself in his kid. While everyone is saying the same thing about him: they never understand Hansol.
đŸŒŒWelcome to the club ma-baby Vernon!đŸŒŒ
"What's wrong?" Hansol inquired, his eyebrows knitting together in concern as his son, Insu, bolted to his bedroom with the speed of lightning. You shot him a weary look and sighed, piquing his curiosity.
"Your son being 'your' son," you replied, with a mixture of amusement and exasperation evident in your tone.
Hansol chuckled, his hand gently stroking Mero, the venerable cat who seemed to have seen it all. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his curiosity piqued as he settled beside Rody, the mischievous feline counterpart to Insu.
You approached him and settled in front of him, Mero abandoning Hansol's lap for the cozy sanctuary of yours. "Do you remember how we ended up having these two?" you asked, motioning to the feline duo who were now basking in the attention.
Hansol nodded, though still puzzled by the sudden trip down memory lane, his fingers idly playing with Rody's fluffy fur.
Hansol and you were still in the dating phase when he stumbled upon Mero, almost squishing the tiny kitten underfoot on his way to your apartment. After a frantic cleanup session and a feast fit for a feline king, Mero settled into your lives with surprising ease.
"Want to rescue it?" Hansol blurted out, his impulsive nature winning out as he glanced at you with wide eyes filled with both concern and excitement.
You raised an eyebrow, amusement dancing in your gaze. "Are you sure? We're pretty busy, you know. Do you have time to play kitten babysitter?"
Hansol nodded enthusiastically, his determination unwavering. "I can definitely make time for our newfound furry friend. Besides, cats are pretty independent creatures. They need their own space as well as i am."
Little did you know that agreeing to Hansol's proposal meant signing up for a lifetime subscription to "Cat Adoption Chronicles." Fast forward to your married life with a baby Insu, and you found yourself facing a similar scenario, only this time with Hansol justifying his latest feline acquisition as if he were rescuing a long-lost family member.
"Babe," he pleaded, holding the new kitten in his arms like it was the most precious treasure in the world, "I can't just leave him out there alone. It's like abandoning Insu on the streets!"
Sighing, you watched as Hansol remained oblivious to the revelation you were trying to convey. "Your son," you began, hoping to shed some light on the matter.
"Is just like you," you continued, hoping he would catch on. But alas, confusion still clouded his expression, his mind seemingly stuck on the obvious fact that of course Insu would take after him in many ways.
"He brought home cats again, from his daycare," you finally clarified, hoping the pieces would fall into place for Hansol.
Hansol's eyes widened in disbelief, his mind struggling to process the information. "Really?" he exclaimed, jumping up from his seat and rushing to Insu's door.
"Insu, can I come in?" he called out, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and excitement.
After a moment of silence, Insu's voice finally came through the door. "Wait a minute. I'll be there," he replied, his tone slightly sheepish.
As Hansol waited outside, locking gazes with you, his curiosity peaked.
"Yes, dad?" Insu emerged from his room, swiftly closing the door behind him, a little too quickly.
"Let's talk in your room," Hansol suggested, taking a step forward, only to be halted by Insu's tiny but determined frame, standing protectively in front of him.
Insu's defensive stance made him appear even more adorable than usual, and Hansol couldn't help but smile at the sight.
"No! It's... Messy! Yeah! Let's talk here, what's wrong, dad?" Insu's voice wavered as he tried to come up with an excuse, his eyes darting nervously around the room.
Hansol sighed and squatted down to Insu's height, his heart sinking at the sight of his son's distress. "Did you bring a cat home?" he asked gently, his voice laced with concern.
Unable to hold back his emotions any longer, Insu burst into tears, throwing his arms around his dad's neck in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry..." he choked out between sobs.
Hansol's heart ached at the sight of his son in distress. "Hey, hey, it's okay," he reassured, his hand rubbing soothing circles on Insu's back. "You don't need to apologize."
Insu sniffled, his tear-streaked face looking up at his dad with a mixture of guilt and sadness. "No... Mom said I shouldn't bring home any more cats or else Uncle Mero and Rody Hyung would get upset."
Hansol struggled to keep a straight face at the mention of "Uncle Mero and Rody Hyung," fighting back a laugh to avoid further upsetting his son. "Yes, your mom is right. Uncle Mero and Rody Hyung don't like it when there are other cats around."
Insu's shoulders slumped in dejection. "But they're so little, I couldn't leave them," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
Hansol's surprise was evident. "There's more than one?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in disbelief as Insu nodded, holding up three tiny fingers.
Glancing over at you, who was leaning against the doorframe with a knowing look, Hansol couldn't help but chuckle inwardly, silently conceding defeat with a sheepish grin. "Told ya," your expression seemed to say, and he couldn't argue with that.
"We can send them to the center tomorrow, but let's keep them until then," Insu negotiated, casting pleading looks between you and Hansol.
You nodded in agreement, whispering, "Just don't let Mero and Rody know," which only added to Insu's excitement.
Hansol acknowledged with a nod before lifting Insu into his arms and following his lead to the designated hiding spot for the kittens.
"There," Insu pointed to his toy box, which was already prepared with makeshift beds and supplies.
Hansol's heart melted at the sight of the tiny creatures nestled among the toys. "Oh my goodness, they're still so small," he exclaimed softly, his protective instincts kicking in. "I don't think they should eat the same food as Mero and Rody, Insu."
Insu's shoulders slumped, disappointment evident on his face. "Right, Daddy... Should we buy them some milk?" he suggested, his voice barely above a whisper.
You watched from the doorway as Hansol and Insu discussed the kittens' needs, a warm smile tugging at the corners of your lips. It was moments like these that made all the chaos of parenthood worth it.
After a while, Hansol turned to you with pleading eyes, echoing Insu's earlier plea. "Can we keep them?" he asked, his gaze filled with the same hopeful innocence as your son's.
You shrugged nonchalantly before turning to leave, but Hansol wasn't about to let you off the hook that easily. Later, he approached you to ensure your agreement, knowing full well that your initial indifference might just be a front.
"What should we name them, Insu?" Hansol asked, turning his attention back to their newest family members.
"Kim for the black fur one, Tteok for the white fur one, and the orange one will be..." Insu trailed off, his brow furrowing in concentration.
"Gam!" they both exclaimed in unison before bursting into laughter, the joy of their newfound companionship filling the room.
*
"Uncle! This is Tteok, she eats a lot and she has a big tummy!" Insu proudly introduced the kittens to Jihoon, his favorite uncle, his excitement palpable even through the phone.
You could hear Jihoon's laughter on the other end of the line. "Wow! You two are alike! Remember when you brought five kittens to the apartment? We had to kick Seokmin out because of his allergies."
You couldn't help but scoff at the memory. "Irony," you muttered under your breath, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all.
"Is Y/n okay with Insu bringing home kittens? Did she let you keep them?" Jihoon's voice held a hint of curiosity as he inquired about your reaction.2
Insu nodded vigorously. "Dad talked to mom, and she let me keep them," he explained proudly, his smile widening at the memory.
Jihoon's laughter echoed through the phone, making you roll your eyes playfully. "I can only imagine how wide and endless your wife's patience must be," he joked, his amusement evident in his voice.
"Say it louder, Jihoon," you called out from behind them as you walked past your husband and son, unable to resist joining in on the banter.
"I don't know! I could never understand him, honestly," Jihoon admitted with a chuckle, shrugging his shoulders in mock confusion.
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leviathxn · 10 months ago
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So I have a request for a Miguel fic, if you are willing to do it. đŸ˜ŠđŸ€—
So...Miguel has a family but he hasn't told the other Spiders. One day he has to take his baby to work to look after him for a while. But then, in his office, bang the Spiders and see Miguel with a baby in his arms/or in a baby carrier. Later Miguel's wife comes in the picture too to take the baby in their universe.
OKAY I LOVE MIGUEL WITH A KID SM
So I know people were asking me for a part 2 on my other one so I’m gonna work on it but obviously it’s these requests firsttt
Thank you all so much for the support 💕
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“”Are you infected??”
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You were typically the one to watch the kids, the double trouble twins. Miguel was a busy man, protecting the spider-verse and all, so you would work from home and play with the twins. It wasn’t so bad, of course Miguel felt bad that he couldn’t have as close of a relationship with them but they still very much knew who their daddy was ((and you did too 😳)). But overall it was a good system and you would get to take things slow at home while being a fun mother.
However, every so often there was days you would need to go into work, very rare but still at least a semiannual occurrence. Sometimes you would even take them into work and they would end up bothering coworkers, but most times you were able to get a family member or close friend to watch them but as they’ve gotten older, spider powers started to shine through. Not only was it hard to control them but it would be too revealing.
Obviously nobody knew Miguel was spider-man, but if two twins started to hang on ceilings, people would eventually put two and two together. This meant you couldn’t leave them with family, resulting in Miguel carrying them around in double baby backpacks. One would be on his chest, the other in him back.
Miguel, in typical fashion, stayed in his office. Nobody assumed anything by his yelling, the man was weird, what would be surprising if he was schizo? Although every now and then people would look at each other, it didn’t sound like typical frustration or talking to himself, it was almost a back and forth. They were in no way heavy, but oh my, they were annoying. How did you get a grip on these two? They’re animals. Halfway through the day, the twins got out of the carriers and there was no going back.
“Put that down! Ay- I’m sorry don’t cry- HEY”. Miguel was struggling, because he loved the kids and he felt so bad for yelling but they wouldn’t listen. He thought to himself about the teens. You’d think as they get older they’d be better, but he saw himself comparing them to his 1 year old twins.
Disgusted at the thought, he grabbed them and webbed their hands. They giggled, struggling to get it off. It was a good distraction
.. for like 3 minutes, then they were back to running around. He tried playing fetch with the twins but that didn’t go very well. They were just.. confused. Why did he throw the toy the just got. Although he appreciated their thinking skills, he really had no idea what to do. He held both of his kids, they hung from his arms and were climbing around him like a jungle gym.
Completely lost in thought about his children dilemma, the doors to his office opened, and the lovely teen band walked in. What a sight for them to see. Miguel standing completely disheveled and staring into space, a kid on his shoulder grabbing his ear, and another kid gorilla hugging his ((massive)) leg and trying to bite the suit.
Panic bells went off, everybody rushing over to Miguel. Was this an attack, was Miguel okay? Oh my gosh he’s being attacked by alien morphing baby things. As they all got ready to ready for the babies, Miguel jumped back, making sure to grab hold of his kids, and getting defensive.
“What the hell is your guys problem?!!” He shouted, sheltering both of his kids, who were now on high alert and looking fearful.
“Are those Aliena??? What happened to you, what did they do?? Why do you look like that!” Miles replied back to him, pointing his fingers at both babies. “Are you infected??”
Hobie, naturally didn’t look concerned, and stop back. “Mate, they look just like him”
“They bit him and took his DNA!! That’s why he’s protecting him”, Pavitr shouted while getting in an offensive position. Hobie almost lost is as he hurled over. Gwen looked over for a moment, then back to Miguel. “Wait
 those are your kids”
“WHAT”. Miles and Pavitr shouted, looking at the very tired Miguel. “By that doesn’t make sense- you’re not- are you married??”. Questions flew right and left, chaos ensued as the babies ran around again. Miguel was done, SO DONE with babysitting the actual babies and now the teens.
Suddenly the door opened again, a very sweaty you running through. “Oh Miggy- I’m sorry I’m late I just got so lost in this place, but I’m here for the twins”. Miguel looked over at you in panic, the teen’s immediately stopped in their tracks. As the kids ran to you, so did the teens
. and what was supposed to be Miguel’s saving grace, ended up in having everybody over for dinner.
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Ahh I’m sorry if this isn’t exactly what you asked for, I traveled today to see a college and I’m writing this very late so I hope you don’t mind that it’s rushed. I’ll get more writing done this week since I’m on break, I promise!
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