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aceyalonso · 3 months ago

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we're both winners, sweetheart - LEWIS HAMILTON

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

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

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

face claim - gracie abrams

word count : 18.6k

song : agora hills - doja cat

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

July 8, Monday, 7:09 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

July 8, Monday, 10:37 AM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

July 8, Monday, 4:51 PM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

mercedesf1

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

user44 HE'S WHAT? FOR HOW LONG?

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

mercluvr I'M SORRY???

nepobbylver ms rabbit has fainted.

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

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

y/nfan2 WHEN DID THEY MEET WHAT

y/nfan3 WHEN WHERE WHAT HOW WHEN HUH

rockstarlewis this is some 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 shit dude

wtfmerc so it WAS y/n

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

July 14th, 5:34 PM

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yn.ln

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blueycarpenter · 2 months ago

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little star

Ever since Cairo submitted her midterm assignment, things haven't been the same between you two.

fandom: MILLER'S GIRL (2024) content: x reader a/n: i had posted this on a previous account, in case it looks familiar

Cairo hadn’t been herself lately. You two had talked for hours for the past couple of weeks. You had grown closer and more intimate with each other. Then, all of the sudden, everything changed.

Cairo wasn’t around anymore. She never called or wrote. It was ever since she turned in her midterm assignment for Mr. Miller that ties had been cut. Due to her tight deadlines, you two had agreed not to see each other until after she had finished the midterm, but it had been 3 days since the due date… She had been a ghost.

You called Winnie that morning—the dawn of the 4th day after. She explained the discord that had accumulated and how Cairo had taken the beating to heart. But she was the strongest person you had ever met. She couldn’t be broken.

Could she?

Winnie had said a lot of things.

Cairo was emotional. Cairo was resentful. Cairo was heartbroken. Cairo was alive, at least.

No more alive than the works she’d create from a blinking cursor, the lead of a pencil, or the ink of a pen, though. She’d masterminded such beauty that reflected nothing but the world around her. Though when she had unlatched the door to let the monsters in, the rain poured and the lightning struck.

You weren’t as talented a writer as she was, but who could be? Between those paragraphs of literacy and media was blood. It was a rich kind of blood that lured you to Cairo Sweet in the first place. It was reckless and mysterious, but you’d never felt more grounded before you laid eyes on her. Heard her speak… Learned her heart… And you missed that more than everything.

Was there Sweet to her name anymore? Or was there just Cairo?

Winnie said Cairo had been alone. She said she had wanted to be alone.

But alone meant misery and displacement. Defeat and loneliness. Longing and torture. And Cairo didn’t deserve that. You didn’t care what she’d done or what she didn’t do. She was your north star. She shone brighter than anything you’d ever known, and therefore, nothing could ever change that.

So, you showed up to her house after that 6 AM phone call with Winnie Black. You needed to see her. Not just because you missed her more than anything, but because you couldn’t bear the thought of her discouraging her potential and honesty. Not in her wondrous existence.

Cairo didn’t fear anything, you’d learned, so you let yourself in and found her sitting in the darkness of her room, three cigarette butts on the floor and her journal open on the bed. Through the shadows, you found the top of her head over the other side of the bed. “Cairo?”

She didn’t move a muscle, but she did answer. “If you’ve come to talk, don’t bother. I’ve heard enough, and the sincerity I’ve expressed has been more than society is willing to tolerate. Honesty is feared by many. It’s tragic and hateful, yet it’s a quality that etiquette claims to be most valuable.” Then, she managed a wry scoff. “Hypocrites.”

“Cairo, I don’t care what happened,” you replied. “I haven’t heard from you in days. I just missed you, and I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

She actually gave a laugh this time. “Aren’t I?”

As convincing as she may seem to other people, you had learned her better than most, because you had to figure her out the hard way, through phone calls and communication of words, not expressions. You didn’t have to see her face to determine how she truly felt. You could hear it. Dare you say, you could feel it.

There was a tear in her voice as she spoke. And it led you rounding the bed to find her knees up, while she stared at the wall ahead. Those beautiful eyes were slow, like shards of obsidian as they raised to meet yours without a blink.

“Y/N…”

You dropped to your knees and pulled her into a hug. She didn’t reciprocate, but you held her for everything you were worth. You rested your cheek against her head, your fingers gently pulling the small tangles from her hair and your other hand corralling her back, clutching her shirt like she was going to disappear into the darkness. “Cairo, listen to me…” you whispered. Her warm breath filtered through your shirt. “I don’t care what anyone says. About you… About me… About anything… You are the greatest soul anyone could ever dream of having in their school, in their class, in their life, in anything.”

A warm, damp feeling found its way to your collarbone, and you knew it was tears. And all of the sudden, her weight was recognizable against your embrace. She felt so small in your arms that didn’t even hold all of her. It was the first time you realized just how petite she was for an 18 year-old girl with an extraordinary personality. “You know, to me… you’re above everything in this world. I’ve only seen people wander the earth, dreaming of what it’d be like to fly, but you… you fly, Cairo. You’re that star in the sky everyone dreams of being.” Your chest ached from how serious those words coming from your heart were. You then lifted your head to place a loving kiss to hers, because just holding her wasn’t enough anymore.

Cairo sniffled, but didn’t say anything. However, she had managed to unbend her legs to hold you against her. And when you gently pulled away to have her look up at you and you, down at her, the wet streaks against her cheeks shimmered in the halflight.

You wiped them away and gave her a small smile. “Beautiful…” You kissed her forehead. “Magical…” You kissed her cheek. “Wonderful, you are.” The next place you were dying to heal with your lips caught your eyes, though it was merely small motions of your irises. Instead, you brushed her hair aside and pressed your foreheads together. Her eyes shut and for a moment, she looked peaceful as you finished with, “Yes, you are…”

She opened her eyes, now only tainted with a thin gloss. But then she managed the smallest, sweetest smile you’d ever seen. Her Cairo Sweet smile. “Thank you,” she said, her voice only a little above a whisper, mostly steady but with the slightest crack.

“It’s true,” you whispered back. Seeing her small smile was enough for you to give her your own, though yours was out of admiration, pride, and love. She truly was a star.

She was your little star.

Then, her smile faded and she glanced away. It was almost shy, which surprised you. “Y/N?” Her voice grew a little stronger.

“Mm-hmm?” Whatever she wanted was hers.

“Kiss me.”

There was no hesitation as you granted her wish. Little did she know though, it was your wish too. You had wished upon a star, because that was the old saying. Wishing on a star was a chance that didn’t come often, especially when that one star was a shooting star. Yet, it hadn’t passed you up, and there was no way in hell you were going to pass it up.

Cairo’s lips were soft, but you could tell there were stories imprinted on them. They weren’t ex-stories, per se, but they were mysteries that you wondered how hard they would be to solve. How many pages would you have to read to uncover them? How much would she have to write to reveal them?

Only time would tell. But every journey starts somewhere.

And the best had a star to guide them.

#blueyfics #miller's girl #cairo sweet #x reader #cairo sweet x reader #fanfiction #cairo sweet x y/n #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #blueycarpenter

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emjayewrites · 2 months ago

Text

hey there, delilah • jude bellingham (6/8)

SYNOPSIS: Real Madrid football star Jude Bellingham has had a big crush on Delilah "Lila" Hamilton, the younger sister of Formula 1 legend Lewis Hamilton, for a while. As their budding romance unfolds, will they be able to navigate the pressures of fame and family dynamics?

PAIRINGS: Jude Bellingham x Delilah "Lila" Hamilton (face claim Rayan Xasan)

WARNINGS: cursing, f1/football b.s., overly protective siblings, eventual smut (18+/minors dni)

TAGLIST: @dreamingjude @foreverisntenough @nichmeddar @hopefulromantic1 @lettersofgold @judesbabymamas @perfecttrashface @alika-4466 @cocobutterqwueen @leilaxaliel @ispywithmylileye @vile-harlot @bellinghaalands @certifiedlesbianbaddie @yeea-nah @empressdede @saturnville @pinkcatcus @shepgurl @neewrites @trentswrld @taytropicana

A/N: Please note that this is a work of fiction and some things may not sound "exactly correct" but bear with me to make this work. Also, this chapter is rather long! Let me know if you like to be removed/added to the taglist.

P.S.: I decided to make the series longer - 2 more chapters until the end!

lilahamilton • posted on their story 12 hours ago

story comments:

judebellingham: 🫶🏽

lewishamilton: 💕💕

fencer: lil sis!!! 💕💕

foreverjudebellingham: luv u lila!

tolami_benson: miss u babes!

jadevanderwall: baddie gurl!!

The Barcelona sun beat down on the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya as Lila and Lewis made their way into the paddock. The familiar buzz of pre-qualifying excitement filled the air, mingling with the scent of high-octane fuel and anticipation.

Lila was dressed in a chic yet practical outfit - a cropped Mercedes team shirt paired with high-waisted jeans and comfortable sneakers. Her VIP pass hung around her neck, a familiar weight after years of attending races.

As they entered, Lewis was immediately swarmed by fans and media. He was sporting an all-white Zegna outfit - a v-neck short-sleeve shirt and pants that somehow managed to look both casual and runway-ready. The cameras were in a frenzy, capturing every angle of the racing superstar.

Lila's phone buzzed with a message from Jude: "Tell your brother to save some style for the rest of us mere mortals. Oh, and good luck! P.S. Missing you loads. Maybe I should score a hat-trick to impress you?"

She chuckled, typing back a quick response as she made her way to the Mercedes garage. There, she found Bono, Lewis's race engineer, hunched over a computer screen.

"So, how's it looking?" she asked, peering over his shoulder at the sea of numbers and graphs.

Bono glanced up, a wry smile on his face. "About as good as your understanding of telemetry data, I'd reckon."

Lila laughed, appreciating the familiar banter. "That good, huh?"

Lewis finally entered the garage, running a hand through his hair. "God, it's a zoo out there," he said, but his smile betrayed his enjoyment of the attention.

"Speaking of attention," Lila began, a teasing lilt to her voice, "Jude says hello and good luck."

Lewis's expression softened slightly at the mention of Jude. "Yeah? Tell him thanks. And... tell him to keep treating my baby sister right."

Lila rolled her eyes affectionately. "Ease up. He's doing just fine."

Lewis nodded, a mix of protective instinct and grudging acceptance in his eyes. "I know, I know. He's... he's not bad, that Bellingham kid."

"High praise indeed," Lila teased, nudging her brother's arm.

Lewis chuckled, then his expression turned more serious. "Alright, enough about your love life. We've got a qualifying session to dominate. You sticking around for the whole thing?"

Lila nodded enthusiastically. "Wouldn't miss it for the world. Someone's got to be here to remind you not to get too cocky when you inevitably take pole."

"You're a mess," Lewis retorted with a grin. He turned to Bono, ready to dive into the pre-qualifying briefing.

As the garage buzzed with pre-session activity, Lila found a spot where she could observe without being in the way. She watched as Lewis transformed from her playful big brother into the focused, determined racer the world knew. It was a transformation she'd seen countless times, but it never failed to impress her.

The atmosphere in the garage shifted as the team prepared for the first qualifying session. Mechanics made last-minute adjustments to the car, while engineers pored over data screens. Lewis was in deep conversation with Bono, discussing strategy and track conditions.

Lila's attention was drawn to the screens showing the live feed from the pit lane. Other teams were beginning to roll out their cars, the competitive energy palpable even through the monitors. She felt a familiar thrill of excitement, the kind that only came from being at the heart of a Formula 1 race weekend.

As Lewis prepared to get into the car, he caught Lila's eye and gave her a quick wink. It was their pre-race ritual, a small gesture that said more than words ever could. Lila returned it with a thumbs up, silently wishing him luck.

"Lewis, you're clear for your out lap," Bono's voice crackled over the radio.

Lila held her breath as Lewis's car roared past, the familiar number 44 a blur of silver and teal. She couldn't help but smile as she heard the crowd cheer.

Between watching her brother's laps and listening to the team's radio chatter, Lila's attention was caught by an unfamiliar figure near the pit lane. A Black woman, nicely dressed and seemingly at ease in the chaotic environment, stood observing the proceedings.

Curious, Lila leaned towards Rosa, Lewis's communications personnel. "Hey, who's that woman over there? I don't think I've seen her before."

Rosa glanced in the direction Lila indicated, then quickly looked away. "Oh, um, you might want to ask your brother about that," she said, her tone careful.

Lila's eyebrows rose in surprise. This woman didn't seem like Lewis's usual type of fling. She carried herself with confidence and poise, appearing completely unfazed by the high-stakes environment.

As Lila pondered who this mystery woman could be, Lewis's voice came over the radio, "Box this lap, guys. Let's see where we stand."

The qualifying session progressed intensely, with Lewis pushing his car to the limit. Lila watched, her heart racing with every lap, as her brother fought for position on the starting grid.

"P3, Lewis. Good job," Bono's voice crackled over the radio as the final seconds of Q3 ticked away.

Lila let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. P3 wasn't pole, but it was a solid position for tomorrow's race. As Lewis brought the car back to the pits, she made her way towards the garage, eager to congratulate him.

The garage erupted in a flurry of activity as the car rolled in. Lewis climbed out, his face a mixture of satisfaction and determination. He pulled off his helmet, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

"Nice work out there," Lila said, approaching him with a smile.

Lewis nodded, wiping sweat from his brow. "Thanks, Li. We've got a good chance tomorrow."

Lila hesitated, then decided to broach the subject. "Hey, I saw this woman earlier. Near the pit lane. Never seen her before. She seemed... different."

Lewis's expression remained neutral, but Lila caught a flicker of something in his eyes. "Oh?" he said, his tone carefully casual as he walked out of the garage.

"Yeah," Lila pressed, following close behind him. "Is she... you know, a new fling or something?"

Lewis gave her a half-smirk, his response deliberately vague. "Not everything's about that, Li."

Lila narrowed her eyes, recognizing her brother's tell-tale signs of holding back. "Come on, Lewis. I know when you're not telling me everything."

Before Lewis could answer, Rosa approached. "Lewis, you've got media duties in twenty minutes. Might want to grab a quick shower first."

Lewis nodded, looking almost relieved at the interruption. "Right, thanks, Rosa." He turned back to Lila. "We'll talk later, yeah? I've got to get ready."

Lila wasn't ready to let it go. "Lewis, seriously. What's going on?"

Lewis shook his head, a mix of exasperation and amusement on his face. "It's not what you think, Li. Look, we'll talk later, I promise. I really need to get ready now."

With that, he headed inside his driver's room, closing the door behind him and leaving Lila standing there, curiosity unsatisfied.

Motherfucker.

As she made her way back to the garage, Lila's phone buzzed with another message from Jude. She smiled, momentarily distracted from the mystery of the unknown woman. Whatever was going on with Lewis, she'd find out eventually. For now, she had a boyfriend to catch up with.

_______________________________________________

Sometime later, Lila was seated at a desk in her hotel room, phone propped up in front of her as she FaceTimed Jude. Her face scrunched up in mild frustration as she recounted the earlier scene in the pit lane. "I'm telling you, there was this random woman just standing there, watching everything, and when I asked Lewis about it, he got all weird. Like, weird, Jude. He still hasn’t explained anything."

Jude, however, seemed less than captivated by Lila’s hyper-focus. He was laid back on his couch, his signature calm demeanor unbothered by her theorizing. "Babes, if Lew’s fucking someone new, that’s his business, not yours."

Lila’s eyes widened in disbelief. "Excuse me? Lewis was all up in our business when we first started dating. You know he gave you the third degree!"

Jude raised a hand in mock surrender, grinning. "Touché. But leave that man alone, Li. Maybe he’s trying to settle down, huh? Don’t you want nieces and nephews?"

Lila let out a sardonic laugh. "Nieces and nephews? Jude, he’s never settling down. At least not until he retires, and we both know that."

Jude shrugged, a nonchalant smile playing on his lips. "A man’s got needs."

Lila shot him a teasing look, eyebrow raised. "Oh, do they now? You sound like you’re speaking from personal experience, Judey Bear."

Jude laughed, his deep voice resonating through the phone. "That wasn’t what you were saying a few days ago when I had my head between your legs… What was it again? 'Ooh Jude, baby, yes, mmhmm Daddy'…"

Lila’s jaw dropped. "I did not call you Daddy! I would never call a man besides my actual father 'Daddy,'" she retorted, her voice laced with indignation.

Jude raised an eyebrow, giving her that look—the look that silently called her out on her bullshit. Lila rolled her eyes and laughed, putting the finishing touches on her makeup as they continued to chat. She had dinner plans with her brother and was using the conversation to distract herself from the lingering curiosity about the mysterious woman.

"Alright, how do I look?" Lila asked, angling her phone so Jude could see her in full view—her outfit a mix of casual chic, perfect for dinner but not overly dressed up.

Jude smiled appreciatively. "Beautiful, as always. Just remember, it’s your brother you’re having dinner with. Don’t need to look too good."

Lila laughed, blowing him a kiss through the screen before they said their goodbyes. With a final check in the mirror, she grabbed her bag and headed out the door, making her way to Lewis’s suite.

Once she reached Lewis’s room, she fished out the spare keycard he’d given her and let herself in. "Lew?" she called, her voice light as she glanced around. "We’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry up!"

Hearing nothing in response, Lila ventured further into the suite, her steps slowing as she reached the bedroom door. The faint sounds of movement and groans inside made her pause. "Lewis?" she called again, a bit louder this time. But as she pushed open the door, her breath caught in her throat.

There, in the low light of the room, was her brother, his tattooed bare-back sweaty as hell and clearly in the middle of… activities. The comforter covered most of their lower halves, but there was no mistaking what she had just walked into.

"Oh my fucking God! I’m gonna be scarred for life!" Lila yelped, quickly turning her back and covering her eyes.

"What the fuck, Li?" Lewis’s voice rang out, filled with shock as he quickly scrambled to cover himself. Moments later, Lila heard him getting up and fumbling for clothes. "Why didn’t you knock?" he demanded.

"I dunno, why didn’t you?!" Lila shot back, eyes still closed as she stood rigid in the hallway. "Remind me again how you barged into my flat unannounced?" she countered, opening her eyes to head back to the living room. She folded her arms as she heard Lewis’ footsteps approaching.

"That’s different," Lewis muttered, clearly flustered as he appeared in the living room, now dressed in a pair of sweatpants. He ran a hand through his braids, sighing. "Fuck, Li, I’m sorry you had to see that."

"Trust me, I’m sorry too," Lila quipped, still half in shock. "You’re paying for my therapy after this." Lewis couldn’t help the small smile that crept up his lips. "You’re laughing at my trauma," she accused.

"Li, trust me, I’ve caught Mumma Linda and Dad a few times. Look how I turned out."

"Oh my God, EW!" Lila shrieked, horrified, as she dramatically covered her ears. Just then, the woman—the woman—poked her head out from the hallway, a playful smirk on her face.

"Is it safe to come out yet?" she asked, making Lewis chuckle.

"Yeah, it’s safe," he said, giving the woman a small smile.

Lila squinted, eyeing the woman closely. "Wait… You were the woman at the pit lane today."

"Guilty," the woman, who was now dressed in one of Lewis' dress shirts, replied casually as she leaned against a couch with a confident ease. "I’m Amara, by the way."

Lila’s gaze flickered between her brother and Amara. "Amara who?" she asked, sensing there was more to this story.

Lewis sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Amara who’s… my friend, Li," he said, the word ‘friend’ sounding far too casual considering the circumstances.

Lila gave him a pointed look, folding her arms. "Be so fucking for real, Lewis. I just walked in on you two having sex. At least try to be honest."

Lewis’s eyebrows shot up in mild surprise at her bluntness. "Okay, fine. Amara and I have been seeing each other for a bit, since earlier this year. I asked her to come to the race weekend… and you know, to meet you."

"To meet me?" Lila echoed, her skepticism obvious.

"Yeah. That was supposed to be the plan at dinner," Amara chimed in, a sheepish smile on her face. "We kind of got… carried away."

Lila rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I noticed."

Lewis chuckled softly. "Look, I was gonna tell you about all this… at dinner. Just didn’t expect you to walk in on us before I could explain."

Lila sighed, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement bubble up inside her. "Alright, fine. But I’m never letting you live this down."

"Fair enough," Lewis replied, grinning.

Lila looked between Lewis and Amara. "Well, what do we do now?" she asked with a slight edge in her voice. "By the time you two finish showering and getting ready, we’ll have missed the reservation."

Lewis offered her an apologetic smile. "Yeah… sorry, Peanut. I know you were looking forward to the restaurant," he said.

Lila gave him a bratty pout, feeling a genuine pang of disappointment. It wasn’t easy finding places that catered to both their picky diets—good vegan options for Lewis, non-vegan but still gourmet for her. Tonight's spot had checked all the boxes for once, and now it seemed like it wasn’t happening.

"Peanut?" Amara suddenly interjected, her face lighting up in a mix of surprise and amusement. "That's cute."

Lila immediately narrowed her eyes, her stance shifting slightly. "Just so we’re clear—you’re not allowed to call me that."

Amara raised her hands in mock surrender, the smile not leaving her face. "Okay, okay. Duly noted."

Lila straightened her shoulders, assessing Amara again. "You look familiar, though… beyond today, I mean. You do modeling?"

Amara nodded. "Yeah, I do."

Lila's lips pressed into a thin line. "Of course you do. One thing about Lewis is that he never strays too far from his habits."

"Not too much, okay?" Lewis cut in, giving his sister a light warning look. "Don't make me sound like an asshole."

Lila smirked. "Too hard not to," she scoffed, then paused as a lightbulb went off in her head. "Wait a minute… didn’t you model for SKIMS?"

Amara laughed softly. "A little while back, yeah."

"I knew you looked familiar." Lila's eyes sparkled with a mix of recognition and mischief. "You did that campaign with—"

"Jude," Amara finished, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I did."

Lila’s pursed smile became slightly more forced, and her eyes sharpened. "Wow, Lewis. Our circle is so small."

Lewis chuckled, though he sensed the subtle tension creeping into the room. "Sure is."

"Jude’s very nice," Amara added casually, her tone light.

Lila shot her a glare that could slice through ice. Nice? She may have been one of many models in that campaign, but in Lila’s world, Amara still had to pass the 'sister test' before they could move to pleasantries about her boyfriend.

"Listen," Lewis said, sensing the tension thickening. He turned toward his sister, trying to keep the mood light. "I’ll order us something to make up for the missed reservation." Lila’s eyes flickered between him and Amara, and she let out a long sigh, her voice dripping with stubbornness. "Be nice, Peanut," Lewis warned gently as he locked eyes with her.

"Or else what?" Lila shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"No new car…" Lewis said simply, giving her a knowing smile before disappearing back into the bedroom.

Lila rolled her eyes, flopping into an armchair as Amara sat on the couch across from her, keeping a respectable distance but well within the line of fire. Lila studied her, taking in her posture, her attitude—so far, Amara seemed cool, confident, and unfazed. Not backing down, but not arrogant either. It was a trait Lila could admire… not that she’d ever admit it.

"So," Lila began, her voice measured but still carrying that hint of protective sister energy. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-eight," Amara replied, her tone steady, unbothered.

Lila raised an eyebrow. "Of course you are," she muttered, almost to herself. "My brother always did like pretty young things."

Amara heard it, of course, but she remained calm, her expression unreadable as she countered, "And what’s so bad about that?"

Lila gave a small smirk, leaning back in the chair. "Nothing bad, just… predictable."

Amara raised an eyebrow, challenging her subtly. "Maybe predictability’s not such a bad thing."

Lila wasn’t used to being challenged so directly by her brother’s… whatever Amara was. She narrowed her eyes. "So, what are your intentions with my brother?"

Amara held her gaze, not flinching. "Honestly? I like him. We’re having fun, seeing where things go. We respect each other’s boundaries."

Lila's mouth twitched in amusement. "Boundaries, huh? I’ve heard that before."

Just then, Lewis reappeared from the bedroom, having changed into a fresh T-shirt and joggers. "Alright, I ordered dinner. It’ll be here soon."

Amara stood up, brushing a hand over her clothes. "I should probably shower and get properly dressed," she said, shifting her gaze between Lewis and Lila. She paused for a moment, then added with a wry smile, "It was nice to finally meet you, Delilah."

Lila gave a curt nod, her expression cool but not hostile. "Likewise, I guess."

Once Amara disappeared into the bathroom, Lila turned her attention back to Lewis. "So," she started, her arms crossed again, "what exactly is this little… thing with Amara?"

Lewis sighed, sitting down across from her. "We’re having fun, Li. I don’t know, we’re seeing where it leads."

Lila gave him a pointed look. "And here I thought you weren’t getting serious with anyone until you retired."

Lewis shrugged, leaning back against the couch. "Yeah, I thought so too. But… Amara’s cool. She gets it. She respects my boundaries, and I respect hers."

Lila raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "So, you like her?"

Lewis smiled faintly. "Yeah, I do. She’s different. Keeps me on my toes."

Lila sighed, leaning forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Well, I guess we’ll see how this pans out."

Lewis chuckled softly. "Yeah, we will."

lilahamilton and 3 others - Barcelona

liked by lewishamilton, judebellingham, and others

lilahamilton: nothing beats race weekend in spain 🏎️ 🇪🇸 tagged: puma, dissh, and visitspain

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judebellingham: 🥰🥰🥰🥰

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⤷lilahamilton: babes 🥰

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Jude laid back on the lounge chair, his arms tucked behind his head as he gazed out at the horizon from the Weimarer Resort, enjoying the family day before the upcoming match against Slovakia. A week had passed since Lila's visit to Barcelona for Lewis's race, and the drama with his mysterious new fling, Amara. Honestly, Jude didn't care. As far as he was concerned, Lewis could do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted—as long as it meant staying off his and Lila's backs for a while. It was also his 21st birthday today, and while he didn't feel drastically different, there was a sense of milestone about the day.

He glanced over at Lila, who was sprawled out next to him on her own chair, scrolling through her phone. "You still thinking about Lewis?" Jude asked lazily, his eyes half-closed.

Lila snorted softly, not looking up from her phone. "Barely. Still a bit salty that he couldn't even be honest with me from the start. But whatever, that's his problem now."

"Good," Jude said with a smirk. "Means he won't be in our business for a while. Let him be preoccupied with Amara, so I can get preoccupied with my girlfriend."

Lila rolled her eyes but couldn't help but smile. "You're ridiculous."

"Maybe," Jude grinned, pushing himself up into a sitting position. "Come on, we should meet up with Trent before heading into Erfurt."

They spent some time with Trent, sharing laughs and inside jokes. Trent couldn't resist teasing Jude about his lovesick behavior. "Man, you're proper gone for her, aren't you?" he laughed, nudging Jude.

Jude just shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. "Can you blame me?"

"Nope, anyways happy birthday, mate," Trent said as he pulled Jude into a hug.

"Thanks, bro. We're celebrating proper when I get back!" Jude told him.

As they were leaving, Lila insisted on driving to Erfurt for dinner with Jude's family. "I'll drive," she said, twirling the car keys around her finger.

Jude shook his head, grinning as he followed her. "Of course you will. It's not like I could if I wanted to."

"Still can't believe you don't know how to drive," Lila teased as they made their way to the car.

Jude shrugged casually. "What can I say? I've got people for that."

"Yeah, well, in this case, I'm your people," Lila quipped as she climbed into the driver's seat.

"And you can barely reach the pedals, short stuff," Jude teased as he settled into the passenger seat, his long legs stretched out in front of him. "I feel like you need a booster seat, darling."

Lila shot him a mock glare, starting the engine. "Keep talking, Bellingham, and I'll leave you at the curb."

Jude feigned hurt, pouting petulantly. "Even on my birthday?"

"Yep," she countered, popping the 'p'.

The drive to Erfurt was filled with their usual banter and laughter. As they neared the restaurant, Jude could sense Lila's nervousness. "You'll be fine," he reassured her. "Mum's been looking forward to this since the Champions League game."

"Really?" Lila asked, surprise evident in her voice.

"Yeah," Jude nodded. "After that match, she's been itching to see you again. Dunno why you're worried."

Arriving at the restaurant, Jude's family greeted them warmly. Denise hugged Jude tightly. "Happy birthday, love," she said, before enveloping Lila in a warm hug. "Lila! It's so good to see you again, love," she exclaimed warmly.

The table was set with a small pile of wrapped gifts at Jude's place. As they ate, Jude opened his presents - a new watch from his parents, designer sunglasses from Jobe, and a few other thoughtful gifts from extended family. Lila handed him a small, elegantly wrapped box last.

"It's not much," she said softly, "but I hope you like it."

Inside was a sleek, personalized leather wallet. Jude's initials were embossed on one corner, and when he opened it, he found a small photo of the two of them tucked into one of the pockets.

"Li, this is perfect," he said, leaning over to kiss her cheek.

Throughout dinner, the conversation was peppered with birthday wishes and reminiscences of Jude's childhood and he couldn't help but notice the way his mum kept engaging Lila in conversation, her eyes twinkling with approval.

"Jude talks about you all the time," Denise said at one point, her smile making Lila feel more at ease. "It's so nice to finally have you here with us again."

Lila glanced at Jude, who looked slightly embarrassed but happy nonetheless. "He does?"

"Oh yeah," Denise laughed. "Non-stop. It's like I already know you."

As they were finishing their main course, Lila excused herself to the bathroom. Once she was out of earshot, Denise leaned over to Jude and whispered, "She's a keeper, love. Don't let this one go."

Jude felt his cheeks warm slightly. "I know, Mum. I don't plan to."

Mark chimed in, "She's got a good head on her shoulders. And she clearly cares about you."

"Plus, she can actually drive," Jobe quipped, earning a playful swat from Denise.

When Lila returned, the lights dimmed. A group of waiters appeared, carrying a large cake adorned with 21 candles. Everyone sang "Happy Birthday," and Jude felt his cheeks warm as he blew out the candles. As they dug into the cake, Jude couldn't help but reflect on the fact that he could now legally drink in America, though it held little significance given his ability to do so for years in Europe.

"So, how does it feel to be 21?" Mark asked, grinning at his eldest.

Jude shrugged, smiling. "Honestly? Not much different. But I'm grateful to be here with all of you."

Denise turned to Lila, "So, tell me more about this Versace campaign. It must be exciting."

Lila's eyes lit up. "It really is. I'm still pinching myself, to be honest. We're working on some designs that blend classic Versace with more sustainable practices and of course some inspiration from Petite Soeur."

"That's wonderful," Mark said. "It's important to use your platform for good."

"And individuality too," Denise added. "I'm glad they let you be you."

Jobe leaned in, curiosity piqued. "So, do you get to keep all the clothes?"

Everyone laughed, and Lila shook her head. "Not all of them, but I do get some perks."

Jude couldn't help but marvel at how well Lila fit in with his family. She was laughing at his dad's terrible jokes, discussing football tactics with Jobe, and sharing fashion tips with his mum. He grinned, squeezing Lila's hand under the table. He had no intention of letting her go anytime soon. As he looked around the table, seeing Lila laughing with his family, Jude felt a warmth spread through his chest. For the first time in a while, he felt like everything was falling into place.

"Enjoying your birthday?" Lila asked, catching his expression.

"I am," Jude replied softly. "This is nice, isn't it?"

Lila's smile widened. "It really is. Your family is wonderful."

As they left the restaurant, Jude and Lila walked with his parents, continuing the easy conversation from inside. Denise looped her arm through Lila's, her voice warm as she spoke. "We should definitely do this again, love. Maybe next time dinner with everyone—your family too."

Jobe, ever the jokester, chimed in, grinning widely. "She's part of the family now, officially my sister! But let's be real, she's always been my sister."

Lila laughed, touched by the sentiment. "Aww, Jobe. You're sweet."

"Well, now Jude's gotta teach you Jamaican patois," Jobe added with a mischievous grin, earning a raised eyebrow from Lila.

Lila's eyes widened in amusement. "Wait a minute—Jude didn't tell me he spoke patois."

Denise wagged a finger at her eldest son. "You know I taught you better than that, Judey."

Lila's grin turned almost wicked. "Yeah, Judey. What's up with that?"

"Come off it, Li," Jude groaned, shaking his head. "I'll teach you. Don't worry, Mum. I'll get her in on some lessons."

Denise smiled approvingly before turning to Lila. "Did your father ever teach you any Grenadian creole?"

Lila shook her head. "Unfortunately, no. But we visit once a year, so I've picked up a few… bad phrases from my aunties and cousins."

Denise laughed. "Well, that's something at least. Maybe next time I can teach you how to make some rum cake."

Jude's face lit up instantly. "Ooh, Mum, please! Her rum cake is amazing."

"But we only have it on special occasions," Jobe added, then with a sly smile, "You and Jude should get married."

It was like a record-scratch moment—an awkward pause settling over the group.

Jude shot a wide-eyed look at his younger brother, "You're wildin', Jobe."

Mark pulled Jobe into a mock headlock, ruffling his hair. "I think you've had too many pints tonight, mate."

Denise cut in, giving her husband and younger son a warning look that instantly made them stop horsing around. "What Jobe meant to say," she clarified with a calm smile, "is that the cake is very special. It's a recipe mothers traditionally teach their daughters. Since I don't have any daughters of my own… I figure you're the closest I'll get to that."

Lila's eyes misted up at Denise's words. "Aw, Denise, I'd love that… wow, I was so scared of meeting you guys again. Thought I screwed up the first meeting a little bit."

"Why would you think that?" Denise asked, genuinely surprised.

Lila glanced at Jude, then back at Denise. "Well, the kiss at Wembley and—"

Denise waved it off, smiling kindly. "Oh honey, that little kiss didn't sway me. It takes more than a quick smooch for me to dislike someone."

"Well, that's a relief," Lila said, laughing softly.

Mark touched Denise's arm. "Honey, we should let the kids enjoy the rest of their night. And tuck Jobe in before he starts any more wild suggestions."

His father shot his mum a look, one that both Jude and Jobe knew all too well. The brothers pretended to gag, recognizing the familiar glances between their parents.

"Oh yuck, Dad…" Jobe muttered, while he walked over to Lila, wrapping her in a hug. "See you at the match, big sis." Jobe then dapped up Jude. "Bye, mutt," he quipped narrowly dodging a playful swing from his older brother before jogging off toward his parents’ car.

"Jobe! Not nice!" Denise called after him, shaking her head before turning to Lila and Jude. She gave them both warm hugs and kisses on the cheek. "Talk to you both later, okay?"

Mark followed suit, giving them both a hug before heading to the car. As Lila and Jude walked back to her car, Jude couldn't help but smirk at her. "You good after all that?" he asked, his hand resting on the small of her back.

"Yeah, that was… really nice," Lila replied softly, a smile playing on her lips.

They climbed into the car, Lila behind the wheel as usual, and she started the drive back to the resort. As the quiet night streets of Erfurt passed by, Jude leaned back in his seat, eyes on Lila as she focused on the road, a comfortable silence settled over them, broken only by the soft melodies of Snoh Aalegra filling the car. After a while, Jude ceased the quiet, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"So, about Jobe's joke about us getting married..."

Lila chuckled, keeping her eyes on the road. "He's quite the character, your brother."

"Yeah, he can be annoying sometimes," Jude admitted, "but I know you like him."

"I do," Lila nodded. "It's nice seeing you as a big brother. Makes me wish I wasn't the baby of the family."

"Really?" Jude asked, intrigued.

"Mhm. Nicolas is much more laid back than Lewis, and so are Nicola and Samantha. Sometimes I wonder what it'd be like to be the older sibling."

Jude laughed softly. "Trust me, it's not always fun." He paused for a moment, then added, "Speaking of family... what do you think your dad will make of me?"

Lila shrugged. "Honestly? I've never brought a guy home before. But I think he'll like you, based on your character. Dad's less emotional than Lewis, more analytical."

"How so?" Jude pressed, curious.

"Well," Lila began, "he was a bit hard on Lewis and Nic as they grew up. But he's gotten better. Having a daughter kind of softened him, I think." She glanced at Jude. "What about your dad? Is he hard on you?"

Jude shook his head. "Nah, not really. I mean, you saw him tonight. He's pretty affectionate. He wanted us to do things for ourselves, not because he played semi-pro."

"That must have been interesting, growing up with a dad who played semi-professionally."

"It was," Jude agreed. "The only difficult part was... well, he was raising black sons in a crazy world, but he did his best, learned a lot along the way."

Lila nodded, understanding in her eyes. "That couldn't have been easy."

"It wasn't," Jude said softly. "But it made us who we are, you know?"

Jude’s words hung in the air between them as they arrived back at the Weimarer Resort, their conversation slowly fading into silence. They strolled through the hallways, the soft hum of the resort’s ambiance filling the space. Jude reached for his room key, opened the door, and let Lila walk in ahead of him before closing it behind them.

Before he could say anything, Lila practically pounced on him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his in a heated kiss. Jude let out a low groan, caught off guard but certainly not protesting as he instinctively pulled her closer. Her sudden boldness made his pulse race.

"Lila," he murmured between kisses, his lips tingling from the intensity of her embrace.

She grinned wickedly, pushing him back toward the bed. "Lie down," she commanded, her voice husky, her eyes dark with desire.

Jude raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming on his lips. "Yes, ma’am," he replied playfully, easing himself down onto the bed.

Lila climbed on top of him, her legs straddling his hips, and leaned down to kiss him again. Their mouths moved together in a rhythm that felt almost too natural, too easy. Jude’s hands roamed her body, tracing the curves of her waist, her thighs, making him ache with want. He could feel himself growing harder with every kiss, his body responding to the feel of her soft skin beneath his fingertips.

Lila’s kisses moved from his lips down to his neck, her teeth grazing against his skin as she pressed soft, sensual kisses there. Jude moaned, his head falling back as her lips sent waves of pleasure through him. His hands found her hips, pulling her closer as the heat between them grew.

Suddenly, Lila pulled back, her bold demeanor faltering as a shy smile crept onto her face. The contrast between her initial assertiveness and her sudden hesitation didn’t go unnoticed by Jude.

"What’s wrong, Lila Bila?" Jude asked, his voice soft as he caressed her hips, trying to reassure her.

"I want us to do it tonight," she said, her voice tentative, almost uncertain. "Make love…"

Jude’s eyes widened at her words. "Oh…"

"Yeah…" Lila bit her lip nervously, her fingers playing with the collar of his shirt. "Do you want to?"

Jude studied her face for a moment, trying to read her expression. "Do you really want to do it, or do you think you have to because it’s my birthday?" he asked gently, his voice laced with concern.

Lila hesitated, her eyes dropping to the bed. "Both?" she said softly, though she didn’t sound entirely convinced. Letting out an exasperated breath, she looked at him with a mixture of frustration and vulnerability. "Don’t you want to? I mean, you can’t be satisfied with us only fooling around, can you?"

Jude kissed his teeth, almost dismissively. "We don’t 'fool around,' Lila," he said, making her blink in confusion. "Darling, that’s part of our intimacy, alright? We’re sharing something together, learning about each other."

"But how much can we learn?" Lila pressed, her brows furrowing. "Be honest with me, Jude. Are you completely satisfied with me?"

"Yes," he said without hesitation, his voice steady and sure.

"Even though we haven’t gone all the way yet?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly.

"Yes, Delilah," Jude said, using her full name to emphasize his sincerity. "I’m not running around with blue balls, you know? If you’re talking about having a release, we get plenty of that. I’m fine with what we’re doing."

Lila leaned in closer, her hands resting on his chest. "Even with me being a virgin?"

"Yes, Lila. Even with you being a virgin," Jude reassured her, his hand gently cupping her chin. "There’s no rush, babes. Why do you think there is?"

"Because," she huffed, clearly frustrated, "you’re so experienced and I’m not. All of my friends have done it already…"

"That doesn’t mean anything," Jude said, shaking his head. "We’re focused on us, okay? And when the time is right, I promise I’ll dick you down accordingly," he teased, flashing a grin. "But not tonight, Lila. You’re obviously not ready." Lila’s pleading puppy dog eyes bore into him, but Jude wasn’t falling for it. "Puppy face won’t work on Daddy right now," he said, causing her to let out an audible gasp.

"Jude!" she exclaimed, her face scrunching up cutely in mock outrage.

"What?" Jude said between laughter. "You do call me 'Daddy,' Li. Stop being in denial about it; there’s nothing wrong with a little kink." He winked at her for added effect. Lila wrapped her hands around his neck playfully, feigning menace. "Ooh, and a little stroke and choke?" he teased. Jude growled playfully, pulling her closer. "Look at you, making your way through the freak guide in record time."

"Jude, I swear to God, I’ll—"

"What?" Jude interrupted, leaning up slightly as he removed her hands from his neck. His lips brushed against hers again, teasingly. "What’re you gonna do, babes? Tell me."

Before she could answer, Jude flipped them over, making Lila yelp in surprise before giggling. He hovered over her, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, his hands roaming over her body as he deepened the kiss.

"Tell Daddy what you’re gonna do," he whispered against her lips, his voice a low growl.

He trailed kisses down her neck, his lips brushing her skin as he moved lower, his hands working to unbutton her top. With her help, he quickly unhooked her bra and stared down at her breasts, his eyes darkening with desire.

"You’re so fucking hot, babes," he murmured, his tongue swirling around her nipple as he sucked gently, then harder, drawing a gasp from Lila. She arched her back, pressing herself further into his mouth, her hands tangling in his curls as the heat between them intensified. Jude’s free hand massaged her other breast, his thumb brushing over her other nipple as he lavished attention on her, taking his time to savor the moment.

"You taste so good," he muttered between kisses, his voice thick with desire. He moved to her other breast, repeating the same slow, sensual strokes of his tongue, sucking and tugging gently with his teeth, making Lila moan softly, her body responding to every movement of his lips.

Jude could feel the tension building between them, her soft gasps urging him on. His kisses began to trail lower, down her stomach, making her shiver with anticipation. As he reached the waistband of her pants, Jude looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mischievous glint. "You ready for more, Lila Bila?"

Lila could only nod, her breath hitching as he slid her pants and underwear down in one smooth motion, tossing them aside. Without hesitation, Jude lowered himself between her legs, his hands spreading her thighs apart as he pressed a soft kiss against her inner thigh. He took his time, teasing her with light touches before his mouth finally found her center.

Lila gasped, her fingers curling into the bedsheets as Jude’s tongue flicked over her clit, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through her. His movements were slow and deliberate, alternating between gentle licks and firmer strokes, knowing exactly how to work her body. Lila’s breathing became more ragged, her hips moving of their own accord as Jude’s tongue continued its torturous rhythm.

"Oh, Jude," she moaned, her voice breaking as he sucked her clit into his mouth, his fingers joining in, slipping inside her and curling upward, making her cry out in pleasure.

He could feel her body trembling beneath him, her moans growing louder, more urgent, but just as she was nearing the edge, Jude pulled back, leaving her panting and wanting more. He smirked at the needy look on her face, loving the way she looked so undone beneath him.

"Jude," she breathed out, half-exasperated, half-pleading.

"Patience, babes," Jude murmured against her lips, his voice low and teasing as he kissed her again, letting her taste herself on his mouth. The sensation made Lila shiver, her body melting into his as the kiss deepened, soft moans escaping her.

Jude pulled back slightly, his hand trailing down her body, fingers brushing over her stomach and making her squirm beneath him. "Stay right there," he whispered, giving her a quick wink as he got up from the bed.

Lila watched him, her breath shallow, heart racing. She had no idea what he was planning, but the anticipation made her body thrum with excitement. She propped herself up on her elbows as Jude made his way to the closet, rummaging through it for a few moments before returning with something in his hand.

Her eyes widened when she saw the sleek, discreet-looking vibrator. She had mentioned wanting to try one out once or twice, but she never expected Jude to actually go out and get it for them.

"Surprise," he said, grinning as he held it up."Thought you might like to have a little extra fun tonight."

Lila’s cheeks flushed, her body tingling at the thought. "You really got one?"

"Of course," Jude replied smoothly, climbing back onto the bed. "You said you were curious, right? Figured it’d be fun for us both to play with." He kissed her neck, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Now lie back, baby. Let me take care of you."

Lila swallowed hard, excitement and nerves coursing through her. She lay back down as he instructed, her breath coming quicker as Jude settled between her thighs, pressing a soft kiss just above her hipbone.

When his lips finally went back to her center, his tongue flicked against her in rapid strokes.

"Yes, baby," Lila gasped.

Then, just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, he reached for the vibrator, turning it on with a low hum. Lila’s breath hitched, her body already hypersensitive from Jude’s attention.

He met her gaze, his eyes a darkened obsidian. "Ready, babes?"

Lila nodded, unable to form words.

Slowly, Jude pressed the vibrator against her, the sensation sending a shockwave of pleasure through her. She cried out, her hips bucking involuntarily as Jude continued to work her with both his mouth and the toy, the combination pushing her closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck, Jude," she moaned, her hands moving to grip his hair as her entire body tightened. Jude didn’t let up, the vibrations and his tongue driving her wild until finally, the tension snapped, and she came hard, her body convulsing with the force of her release.

Jude stayed with her through it, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until she was panting, completely spent beneath him.

He pulled away slightly, turning off the vibrator and setting it aside before crawling back up to kiss her, his lips soft and tender against hers. Lila was still trembling, her body buzzing from the intensity of it all, but she kissed him back with all the energy she had left.

"That was…" Lila trailed off, her voice shaky as she caught her breath. "Incredible."

Jude smirked, clearly pleased with himself. "Glad you liked it."

"I more than liked it," she said, laughing softly as she touched his face. "You’re dangerous with that mouth of yours."

Jude chuckled, giving her a quick kiss before pulling her into his arms, his body warm and solid against hers. "Well, it’s not over yet, babe," he whispered in her ear, his voice full of mischief.

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "What do you mean?"

Jude grinned, kissing the side of her neck. "Your turn."

Before she could respond, he pulled back, his hands moving to guide her down his body. Lila caught on quickly, her heart racing with excitement as her hands moving to undo his pants as she shot him a daring grin. Jude’s heart raced as she pulled his boxers down as well, freeing his erection.

Jude let out a low groan as she wrapped her hand around him, her fingers working him with slow, deliberate strokes. His head fell back against the pillows, his eyes closing as he gave himself over to the sensation.

"I love touching you," Lila said, her voice soft. Then, without another word, she lowered her mouth onto him, taking him in slowly at first, her tongue swirling around the tip before she began to bob her head, taking him deeper with each movement.

"Fuck, Lila," he muttered, his hand finding its way into her hair, guiding her rhythm as she sucked him off. Her mouth was warm and wet, and she was getting better at this, her movements confident and sure as she took him in with more intensity.

Every stroke of her tongue, every flick over the sensitive head, had Jude panting, his hips starting to buck slightly in response. The pressure was building fast, the sensation overwhelming as Lila’s mouth worked him to the edge.

"Shit," Jude groaned, his muscles tensing as he felt himself getting closer, her mouth pushing him right to the brink. "I’m about to—"

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence before he exploded, his release hitting hard as he came in her mouth. Lila didn’t flinch, though, taking all of him, swallowing eagerly as he moaned through his climax.

As the waves of pleasure finally subsided, Jude lay there, breathing hard, watching Lila as she wiped the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand, a small, almost smug smile on her face.

"Damn," Jude breathed out, grinning as he propped himself up on his elbows. "You’ve really gotten good at swallowing, haven’t you?"

Lila laughed, rolling her eyes playfully. "Shut up, Jude."

He chuckled, pulling her back up to him and pressing a kiss to her forehead. "No, seriously. You’ve improved, Li. I’m proud of you," he teased, winking at her.

She swatted at his chest, but there was no mistaking the smile on her face as she curled up beside him, their laughter filling the room.

Jude pulled Lila close, his fingers lazily tracing patterns along her arm as they lay together in the afterglow of the moment. He glanced down at her, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he brushed a strand of hair from her face.

"You know, Li," he began, his voice low and sincere, "you mean a lot to me. This… tonight… it’s been the best birthday I’ve ever had. And not just because of, well, all this." He gestured vaguely between them, a playful grin on his face, "But because you’re here, with me."

Lila giggled softly, snuggling deeper into his side. "Jude, we didn’t even do much. I mean, we had cake, messed around a little..."

He laughed, his chest rumbling beneath her. "Yeah, but it’s more than that, Li. It’s not about doing something big or crazy. It’s about the fact that I got to ring in my 21st birthday with my family… and with you." He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering against her hair for a moment. "That’s what makes it special."

Lila looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with affection. "You really mean that?"

"Absolutely," he said without hesitation, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "I couldn’t imagine a better way to spend it. You’re my girl, Lila. And having you by my side tonight? That’s everything."

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing slightly at his words. "You’re really sappy tonight, Jude."

He laughed again, pulling her even closer. "Maybe a little. But you deserve it. Plus, it’s my birthday. I’m allowed to be as sappy as I want."

Lila giggled again, resting her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. "Okay, birthday boy. You win. I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all that matters."

"Happy doesn’t even begin to cover it," Jude murmured, his hand sliding up to stroke her hair gently. "This is perfect."

They lay there in comfortable silence for a moment, just enjoying each other’s presence, before Jude spoke again, his voice soft but filled with warmth.

"Thank you, Lila. For making this the best birthday ever."

She smiled against his chest, her heart swelling at his words. "Anytime, Jude."

lilahamilton and judebellingham

liked by lewishamilton, trentarnold66, england, and others

lilahamilton: happy birthday to my favourite person in the world! 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾 can't wait to celebrate more birthdays with you, my love! ♥️ tagged: judebellingham

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Lewis settled into the couch inside his hotel suite, a mix of frustration and acceptance lingering from his P4 finish at the Austrian Grand Prix. He knew he should be content with the points, but the competitor in him always yearned for the top spot.

As he turned on the England vs Slovakia game, Amara walked in with a tray of snacks. "Thought you might need these," she said, setting them down on the coffee table.

Thanks," Lewis smiled, appreciating her thoughtfulness. As the pre-game coverage began, he noticed Amara's slightly puzzled expression. "Not much of a football fan?"

"Not really. We don't follow it much in the States," she shook her head. "There's Jude, though," Amara pointed out as the camera panned to number 10 warming up on the pitch. "He's looking good out there."

Lewis nodded, feeling a surge of pride despite himself. "Yeah, he's doing well. Kid's got talent, I'll give him that."

The camera then swept across the stands, focusing on a familiar face. "And there's Lila," Lewis said, seeing his sister sitting with Jude's family.

The commentators' voices filled the room: "And there we see Jude Bellingham's girlfriend, Lila Hamilton, sitting with his family. For those who might not know, she's the sister of seven-time world champion Lewis Hamilton and has recently made waves as Versace's newest ambassador."

"Quite the power couple they're becoming," the other commentator added. "Young Bellingham's star is certainly on the rise, both on and off the pitch."

Lewis felt a mix of emotions hearing them talk about Lila and Jude. Pride in his sister's accomplishments, a touch of protectiveness, and a grudging respect for Jude's handling of the spotlight.

"They really are in the public eye, aren't they?" Amara mused, glancing at Lewis.

Lewis nodded, his eyes still on the screen. "Yeah, it comes with the territory. Lila's handling it well."

As the game kicked off, Lewis found himself fully invested, explaining plays to Amara and cheering for England. But part of his mind kept drifting to Lila, hoping she was handling the attention okay. He made a mental note to check in with her after the match.

"Lila's really sweet," Amara commented during a lull in the action. "I'm glad I got to meet her in Barcelona."

Lewis chuckled. "Yeah, she's alright. When she's not being a pain in my ass, that is."

Amara playfully swatted his arm. "Come on, she's not that bad."

"Nah, she's great," Lewis admitted, his tone softening. "Just don't tell her I said that. Can't have her getting a big head."

They continued watching, and Lewis found himself relaxing more. He wrapped an arm around Amara's shoulders, pulling her closer. The domesticity of the moment struck him - sitting on the couch, watching football, snacks within reach. It felt foreign yet comforting, a stark contrast to his usual fast-paced lifestyle.

He thought back to his conversation with Lila in Barcelona. He and Amara were still figuring things out, but there was no pressure. They were going with the flow, and Lewis found he quite enjoyed it.

"This is nice," he murmured, almost to himself.

Amara looked up at him, a soft smile on her face. "Yeah, it is. Though I have to say, your sister grilling me was quite the experience."

Lewis laughed. "She takes after me in that department. Sorry about that."

"Don't be," Amara replied. "It shows how much she cares about you. It's sweet."

As the game progressed, Lewis found himself equally invested in the match and the woman beside him. It had been a while since he'd allowed himself to simply enjoy moments like these. No racing, no public appearances, just... this.

The comfortable silence was broken by a sudden roar from the crowd on TV. Lewis's attention snapped back to the game, just in time to see Jude make a brilliant pass. He couldn't help but grin, both at the play and at the thought of how excited Lila must be in the stands.

Maybe, he thought, this was what it was all about - finding a balance between the adrenaline of his career and the simple joys of moments like these. As he settled in to watch the rest of the match with Amara, Lewis felt a sense of contentment wash over him. This, he decided, he could definitely get used to.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#emjayewrites #lewis hamilton #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #footballer x reader #hey there delilah #jude bellingham fic #real madrid fanfic

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months ago

Text

I Hate It When You're Drunk - 7

Character: bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x Princess!Reader

Summary: A forbidden love between a princess and her bodyguard. They love each other deeply, but their relationship is threatened by the tyrant king's oppressive rule and their differing social statuses.

I Hate It When You're Drunk Series Masterlist

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In the other room, laughter and excitement filled the air as you and your bridesmaids gathered for the wedding preparations. Your friends, all hopeless romantics, were thrilled for you, knowing how much this day meant.

They huddled around, admiring your wedding dress—an elegant, simple gown adorned with delicate flower embroidery. The white fabric shimmered softly in the light, making you look like a vision of grace.

You wore a crown that once belonged to your mother, a cherished heirloom that your father had handed to you himself. After receiving his permission for this momentous occasion, the bitterness you once held toward him had softened, if only slightly.

As you stood before the mirror, gazing at your reflection, the crown glinted softly in the light, a symbol of the legacy you carried. You couldn’t help but wish that your mother were here with you, guiding you through this pivotal day.

With the international media coverage, a small part of you hoped that wherever she was, she would see the news and know that her daughter was getting married.

“You look stunning,” one of your bridesmaids said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

“Bucky’s going to lose his breath when he sees you,” another chimed in, a playful grin on her face.

“You two are perfect for each other,” someone added, placing a hand on your shoulder. “We’ve all seen the way he looks at you. There’s no doubt in my mind this is exactly how it’s supposed to be.”

Their words were heartfelt, and as they each gave their blessings, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of warmth. Their support made the day even more special, reminding you that you weren’t just marrying Bucky—you were also surrounded by people who truly cared for you and wanted to see you happy.

The wedding became a national holiday, a day of grand celebration and international coverage. Streets were lined with eager spectators as the festivities unfolded in a magnificent parade. Soldiers in gleaming uniforms rode atop powerful horses, their disciplined ranks adding a military grandeur to the occasion.

King Leonard seized the opportunity to showcase the might of Veridian, reminding the world of the nation's strength under his iron rule. As Bucky watched the display, he realized with a sinking feeling that he had truly entered the lion's den.

“We have to go to the church,” said Archer, the Defense Minister of Veridian. With no family of his own, Bucky found himself accompanied by Archer, his father’s old friend and now the closest thing he had to family. The ministry of defense, a symbol of the power Bucky was stepping into, stood by his side.

They climbed into a classic Rolls-Royce, the car gliding through the streets toward the church. The clear windows made Bucky an object of attention, with every pair of eyes in the crowd focused on him. People cheered and waved the flag of the country, their excitement palpable as they awaited the groom’s arrival.

“Wave, Bucky,” Archer prompted.

Bucky waved, but it felt hollow. He was like a goldfish in a glass bowl, exposed and on display for all to see.

“Your father would be proud of you,” Archer remarked.

Bucky could only wish his father were there to see this day.

“Except your mom. She’d be furious that you’re marrying the king’s daughter,” Archer added with a wry smile.

“If she’s still alive, I hope this is enough to bring her back, wherever she is,” Bucky replied, his voice tinged with a longing he couldn’t suppress.

“She’s still alive,” Archer said, his tone suddenly serious.

Bucky’s eyes snapped to Archer’s, disbelief and hope warring within him. “Don’t joke with me,” he said, his voice tight with emotion.

“I know where she is,” Archer responded calmly.

Relief washed over Bucky like a tidal wave, the best news he had heard in years. “Where is she?” he demanded, but then hesitated, glancing around. “Wait, is it safe to talk about this here?”

“There are no bugs in the car, and the driver is one of my people,” Archer reassured him.

Thank God, Bucky thought, grateful that Archer had thought everything through. “So where is she?”

“In an enemy state,” Archer said, pausing before revealing the name. “Thalassa.”

Bucky’s world tilted on its axis. Thalassa—the very mention of the place sent a chill down his spine. King Leonard’s decree was clear: anyone who visited Thalassa would be branded a traitor. His mother had chosen to live in a country that refused to acknowledge Leonard as the rightful ruler.

“I hope you can make a change around here,” Archer said, his words heavy with meaning.

Bucky could only hope, his mind spinning with the revelation and the burden it now placed on his shoulders.

👑👑👑👑👑

Bucky arrived at the church first, stepping into the grand hall that had been meticulously decorated for the royal wedding. The aisles were lined with white roses, and soft golden drapes hung from the high arches, casting a warm, regal glow throughout the space. The scent of fresh flowers mixed with the incense, creating an atmosphere that was both sacred and celebratory.

Diplomatic guests from across the world filled the pews, their attire as varied and ornate as their countries of origin. Bucky, however, recognized none of them. They were not his guests but those of King Leonard, each one a powerful figure in their own right, all there to witness the union under the king's command.

Bucky's attention was momentarily diverted to the seats behind King seat. Cassian and his uncle, Duke Griffin, were seated there, their presence adding another layer of complexity to the scene.

Cassian, who had earlier expressed his disillusionment with the arranged marriage, now sat with a mask of indifference. His eyes occasionally flicked toward Bucky, a mixture of pity and curiosity in his gaze. Beside him, Duke Griffin, an imposing figure with a sharp gaze, remained impassive.

As Bucky stood at the front, feeling the weight of their gazes on him, the doors opened to reveal King Leonard. The entire congregation stood and bowed deeply as the king entered, a silent acknowledgment of his absolute authority. Leonard’s presence commanded the room, his every step echoing through the grand hall.

Before taking his seat, Leonard approached Bucky, his expression unreadable. He placed a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder, a gesture that felt more like a warning than reassurance.

“Your duty is just to make my daughter happy,” Leonard said, his voice low and cold. “I don’t expect anything else from you.”

Bucky didn’t trust himself to speak. He simply nodded, his throat tight, as Leonard withdrew and moved to his place of honor.

A hush fell over the crowd as the master of ceremonies stepped forward. “Ladies and gentlemen,” the voice echoed through the church, “the bride, Her Royal Highness, the Princess, will now arrive.”

As the church doors opened, the anticipation in the air became palpable. The choir's voices rose in harmony with the music, and the orchestra began playing Canon in D, the notes echoing through the grand hall.

Bucky stood at the altar, his back to the entrance. His heart pounded in his chest, each beat a drum of nervous energy that reverberated through his entire being. He knew the moment had come, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn around just yet. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to steady himself, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

As you entered the church, the soft rustle of your gown mixed with the melodious strains of Canon in D, creating a symphony that enveloped you. Each step felt like you were walking through a dream, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves.

The grandeur of the church overwhelmed you—the lavish decorations, the rows of esteemed diplomatic guests, and the sea of faces turned in anticipation. But amidst the opulence, your focus was solely on Bucky. He was the reason for every flutter in your chest, every tremor in your hands.

Your bouquet of fresh flowers felt like a lifeline, grounding you amidst the storm of emotions. The crown your father had gifted you, a delicate piece of history, seemed to weigh heavier now. It was a reminder of your lineage and the monumental step you were about to take.

The aisle stretched before you, a path leading to your future. With every step, you could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on you. Despite the nerves and the overwhelming feeling that this was all too surreal, a smile found its way to your lips. You couldn’t believe it—after everything you’d been through, you were finally here, marrying the man you loved.

King Leonard, standing beside you, took a firm but reassuring grip on your arm. His presence was both a comfort and a reminder of the responsibility and expectation that came with this union. As he guided you down the aisle, the weight of the moment was palpable. His role was to lead you to Bucky, ensuring that you were united in front of everyone who mattered.

As you reached the midpoint of the aisle, you looked up at him with a grateful smile. "Thank you, Father."

Leonard's gaze softened slightly, though his voice remained steady. "If he ever makes you cry or hurts you, just tell me."

You met his eyes with unwavering confidence. "That will never happen."

As you walked closer, Bucky finally found the courage to turn around. The sight of you took his breath away. You looked like a vision, an ethereal presence that made his heart skip a beat. His chest tightened with a mix of love and fear, knowing that this was it—the moment that would change both your lives forever.

The ceremony began, and the priest’s voice filled the air with solemnity and grace. He spoke of love, commitment, and the vows you were about to take. The words washed over you both, their weight sinking deep into your hearts. Bucky glanced at you, his heart pounding, as the priest asked him the most important question of his life.

"Do you, James Buchanan Barnes, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death do you part?"

Bucky’s voice was steady, though he felt anything but. "I do."

The priest then turned to you, and you felt a wave of emotions—love, fear, excitement—crash over you.

"And do you, Princess, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for better or worse, till death do you part?"

With a voice filled with certainty and love, you answered, "I do."

The priest smiled warmly and announced, "By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife."

Bucky reached up to lift your veil, his hands trembling slightly. As he finally revealed your face, your smile met his, a beacon of pure joy that made his heart race.

Without waiting for the priest to instruct you, Bucky leaned in and kissed you. The spontaneous, heartfelt gesture drew laughter and applause from the guests, filling the church with a warmth that melted away any lingering tension.

Hand in hand, you and Bucky turned to face the guests, but first, you both bowed deeply to the king.

King Leonard, with a measured smile, stepped forward. "Welcome to the family, James."

Bucky met the king's gaze, doing his best to suppress the unease bubbling beneath the surface. "It's an honor, Your Majesty."

With the formalities complete, you both began the procession down the aisle, greeting guests as you went. Outside the church, the crowds had gathered, their cheers erupting as you stepped out. The sight of you in your beautiful white dress and Bucky in his military uniform was like something out of a fairy tale. The people waved flags and called out well-wishes, celebrating what seemed to be the happiest day of your life.

But Bucky couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that clung to him. The memory of the blood-red message burned in his mind, making him feel vulnerable in the open space. As much as he tried to keep up appearances, the urge to get inside, away from prying eyes, was overwhelming.

Thankfully, the ornate carriage that awaited you both was fitted with bulletproof glass, offering a sense of security that Bucky desperately needed. Once inside, you beamed with happiness, the joy of the day radiating from you.

"Can you believe it, Bucky? We’re finally married!" you said, your voice bubbling with excitement as you squeezed his hand.

Bucky forced a smile, trying to match your enthusiasm. "Yeah… finally."

You leaned closer to him, your eyes sparkling. "I knew this day would be perfect, but I never imagined it would feel this incredible."

Bucky nodded, his mind racing. "It’s everything you deserved."

You noticed a hint of something in his voice—a flicker of doubt, perhaps—but dismissed it, too wrapped up in the joy of the moment to let it linger.

As the carriage began its journey back to the castle, you continued talking about the day, the guests, and the future that lay ahead. Bucky listened, his hand still holding yours, but his thoughts were elsewhere, his eyes flicking nervously toward the bulletproof windows. The carriage offered safety, but the dread in his heart remained.

Unaware of the storm brewing inside him, you smiled, resting your head on his shoulder, content in the belief that this was the start of your happily ever after.

👑👑👑👑👑👑

Bucky had just finished changing into a suit when he stepped out of the room, adjusting his tie. The weight of the day was pressing down on him, but he was determined to keep it together for your sake. As he walked into the hallway, he was suddenly shoved back, his shoulder slamming into the wall. The shock of the impact made him blink, and when his eyes focused, he felt as if he were seeing a ghost.

"Lucas?" Bucky's voice wavered in disbelief.

The man before him was a wreck—a shadow of the comrade he once knew. Lucas’s face was gaunt, his eyes bloodshot and wild, his clothes disheveled like he had crawled out from the depths of hell. His hands trembled, and in one of them, a gun was pointed directly at Bucky's chest.

"You… you fucking traitor!" Lucas spat the words with venom, his voice cracking under the weight of betrayal. "We trusted you! Our comrades… our friends… and you sold us out to that monster!"

Bucky raised his hands slowly, trying to calm his friend. "Lucas, listen to me—"

"Shut up!" Lucas’s voice was a shriek, desperate and unhinged. He shook his head, his grip on the gun tightening. "You don’t get to talk! Do you know what they did to us? What they did to me?"

"I know, and I’m going to make things right," Bucky said, his voice low, trying to keep it steady even as his heart raced. "But killing me won’t change what happened."

"You don’t get it, do you? It’s too late! It’s all too fucking late!" Lucas’s eyes were filled with rage and sorrow, a man broken by unimaginable horrors. He took a step closer, the barrel of the gun trembling but still aimed squarely at Bucky.

Bucky could see Lucas was beyond reason, his mind fractured by the torment he had endured. Every second felt like an eternity as the gun wavered, Lucas’s finger twitching on the trigger. The fear was real, but Bucky couldn’t let it control him.

"Lucas, please," Bucky’s voice was almost a whisper. "I swear, I didn’t betray you. We can fix this together—"

A gunshot rang out, the sound echoing through the hall like a death knell. Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, expecting the searing pain of a bullet tearing into him. But nothing came. No pain, no darkness. He opened his eyes, and the sight before him made his breath catch in his throat.

Lucas stood there, his eyes wide with shock, blood seeping through his shirt from a wound in his chest. He staggered, his grip on the gun loosening. Bucky instinctively reached out, catching Lucas before he could collapse to the floor.

"It… it wasn’t you. I’m… Avenge us," Lucas choked out, blood bubbling up in his mouth as he spoke.

"Don’t speak, Lucas. I’ll get help," Bucky said, his voice breaking as he tried to hold back the tears. He could feel the life draining out of his friend, the warmth leaving his body.

"It’s… too late," Lucas whispered, his voice barely audible now.

Bucky looked up, desperation and anger swirling in his chest, and that’s when he saw him—Isaac. The man he thought was dead, standing there as if nothing had happened. Isaac was clean, composed, his hair neatly combed, and his suit pristine. He looked every bit the part of someone who had just stepped out of a palace, not a prison.

"You," Bucky growled, his voice filled with fury as he held Lucas’s lifeless body. "It was you."

Isaac’s lips curled into a cold smile. He bowed his head slightly, a mockery of respect. "From now on, I serve you, Your Highness."

"You fucking traitor!" Bucky’s voice was a roar of pain and anger. He wanted nothing more than to rip Isaac apart, to make him pay for everything he had done.

"Oh, what a good job youdid on your first day." A cold, authoritative voice cut through the tension.

Bucky looked up to see King Leonard, his presence commanding the room. The king walked in, seemingly oblivious to the blood-stained scene before him, as if Lucas's dying body was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

Isaac straightened up and greeted the king with a formal nod. "It’s my duty, sir."

King Leonard smiled, his gaze shifting to Bucky, who was still cradling Lucas’s lifeless form. "Let me introduce you to the new head of the castle guard, Isaac."

Bucky’s anger simmered just below the surface, his hands clenched into fists. Isaac, the man who had betrayed them all, was now standing here with the king’s blessing. This was no longer just a political game—this was personal.

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woso-dreamzzz · 11 months ago

Text

Breakfast II

Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader

Summary: Your pitch check is interrupted by someone familiar

You rub your eyes as your Mamma unwraps the sandwich she'd packed for you. Honestly, it's a bit too early for you to be fully awake because you and Ellie went out to the cinema last night while Mamma did media stuff for the club.

You didn't particularly want to join in on the pitch check (it was the same pitch as usual) but Mamma had lured you with the promise of food and a nap before the game started.

"Ellie, no," You whine when Mamma's girlfriend tries to take a piece," It's mine."

"What?" She jokes," You can't share?"

You wrinkle your nose at her. "No."

"Oh, come on!"

You stick your tongue out at her and she laughs, mushing your hat further down on your head so it almost covers your eyes.

"Ellie!"

"What, I didn't do anything!"

"Mamma! Ellie's eating my food again!"

"Daan, don't listen to her! I was only joking!"

Your Mamma made a point of ignoring you both and letting you squabble between yourselves. You had gotten better with Ellie as time went on and now all of your arguments were small and over little things rather than what the big battles they used to be.

"Alright! That's it!" Ellie grabs you suddenly, flipping you over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, making sure to bounce more than necessary as she runs to catch up with Daan.

You shriek at the movement and Mamma smiles fondly at you as you try to reach out for help. She just holds your hand in hers, swinging it between your bodies as Ellie munches on your sandwich, leaving half it for you.

"Ellie!" You laugh as she spins around quickly before dumping you on the floor, where you stumble around dizzily for several seconds before slumping to the ground.

"Mamma!" You say," Ellie's being mean again!"

"And what do you want me to do about that?" Mamma teases.

You pretend to think for a moment. "You should tell her off! Or...Or do the same to her!"

Both Mamma and Ellie laugh at you.

"I'm being serious!"

Mamma runs a hand through your head and offers you back your sandwich. "We'll see," She says finally," If Ellie's being mean later I'll definitely tell her off."

You stink your tongue out at Ellie in triumph, who just rolls her eyes at you.

"I'm bored," You declare not even five minutes later as you walk between your mother and her girlfriend," Can I get a snack?"

"Is the food I feed you not enough?" Mamma asks with a wry smile and you give her a deadpan look.

"Snacks? Please?"

She sighs like you've greatly inconvenienced her even though you all know that she's joking. She fishes some money out of her pocket and send you on your way.

"I want a chocolate!" She yells after you.

"And get me a drink!" Ellie yells too.

"Get your own, Ellie!" You answer her with your own joking smile as you scamper back inside to the nearest vending machine.

You have to stand on your very tiptoes to reach the higher numbers but you manage to get your snacks, Mamma's chocolate and Ellie's drink - although you know that you won't be letting her get it off you so easily.

"Well, well, well," A familiar voice says from behind you," If it isn't the littlest van de Donk. Fancy seeing you here!"

"Leah!" You exclaim, running into her arms.

"Hey, there!" Leah hugs you back tight and ruffles your hair. "Long time no see."

"You're playing Mamma soon!" You tell her and the other Arsenal girls who yell out their own greetings to you.

"We are," Leah agrees before nodding to the treats in your hands," Is that for me?"

"Actually, Leah, I'm pretty sure they must be for me," A very familiar voice joins you and you turn to look at Beth.

Mamma and Beth were together a long time before Mamma got with Ellie. Beth used to take you to school and help with your baths at night.

When you and Mamma left and they broke up, you didn't hear from Beth anymore.

You're not too sure how to react to her so you just smile politely and scamper off back onto the pitch. You break out into a sprint the moment you can't hear the Arsenal girls. You can't find Mamma anywhere.

It's like she's disappeared on you.

So, you run to the next best thing.

Ellie is talking with Lindsey and she almost loses her balance when you crash into her.

Lindsey laughs. "Alright there, roadrunner? Meep, meep!"

But Ellie just looks at you with a frown, taking in the way your shoulders are rising and falling and you send worried glances back at the tunnel.

"Whoa, whoa," Ellie says," What's going on?" She follows your gaze. "What happened?"

"Where's Mamma?" You answer with your own question," I...I want Mamma."

"Daan's doing an interview," Ellie answers," Why?"

You look up at Ellie with wide eyes. "Mamma and Beth used to date."

"Yes?"

"Beth's here," You continue," But I haven't talked to her in a while. Do I have to be friends with Beth because she and Mamma used to date?"

Ellie pulls you into her arms, squeezing you nice and tight against her. "You don't have to be friends with anyone you don't want to."

"Who isn't she friends with?" Mamma appears behind you, looking a little confused. The snacks you got are scattered on the floor and you're hugging Ellie just as tight as she's hugging you - something that never really happens and never in public like now.

"Beth's here," You say," Do I have to be friends with her?"

Mamma misunderstands you. "You can still be friends with Beth if you want."

You shake your head and try to explain more but Beth's approaching and you find yourself sliding behind Ellie.

"Hey, Daan," Beth says, hugging Mamma, who hugs her back," Ellie." She smiles at you. "It's good to see you, y/n."

You smile politely again and busy yourself with opening your packet of sweets. Your hands are shaking slightly and you can't think why.

You know Beth.

You like Beth.

But her presence and smiling face still makes you feel nervous.

You lean some of your weight against Ellie, whose hand immediately clamps onto your shoulder in comfort.

Mamma and Beth talk for a while but Ellie keeps you busy and distracted by letting you take long chugs of her drink - even though it's very sugary and Mamma would never let you have it if she hadn't been talking to Beth.

"She's gotten so big," Is what Beth's saying when you tune back into their conversation," I remember when she was tiny. Does she still like being carried on your hip?"

"She likes riding on shoulders," Ellie cuts in when she notices you tense at Beth reminiscing," Don't you?"

You nod. "I'm too big to sit on Mamma and Ellie's hips."

Beth looks at you a little strangely for a moment before nodding with a little laugh. "God, you used to follow me around all the time. I miss my little shadow sometimes."

For you ears early, Ellie mutters," But not enough to call every once in a while." She spoke a bit louder for Mamma and Beth to hear too," She doesn't really like following anyone around anymore." She pokes at your cheek teasingly. "She's too independent."

Mamma rolls her eyes. "Independent?" She gives you a toothy smile, leaning down to kiss your head. "You crawled into bed with us last night because Ellie took you to a scary movie."

"It wasn't a scary movie!" Ellie defends," It just had a few freaky parts! It was animated!"

"Ellie told me too!" You say quickly," She said that I could sleep with you!"

Mamma laughs, ruffling your hair. "So I have Ellie to blame, huh?"

"We're partners in crime," Ellie says and you burrow into her side with a silly grin," Me and her forever."

You catch Beth's eye. She looks a little misty-eyed and you can just tell that she's thinking of the little girl you used to be and not the you that's standing in front of her now.

But you're not that little girl anymore and you look away to face Ellie, who is happy to meet your eyes and take your head in hers.

You're very clearly still feeling awkward around Beth, especially as she reminisces about how little you used to be when she first met you, so Ellie pulls you into her side.

"Hey, Daan," She says," Me and my partner in crime are going to head back inside. My drink's done."

"Are you getting more snacks out the vending machine?" Daan teases and you look up at her with an innocent smile. "Oh, don't give me that look!"

"What look?" You tease.

Mamma pokes at your cheek. "That look. You want me to bankroll your snack spree."

You bat your eyelashes at her. "Is it working?"

Mamma laughs, slapping a small wad of cash into your hands. "Don't go crazy. You'll get a stomach ache." She points at Ellie. "I mean it."

Ellie winks and presses a kiss to Mamma's cheek before hoisting you up onto her shoulders. "Bye Daan!"

"Bye Mamma!" You say, waving as Ellie carts you away," Bye Beth!"

#woso x reader #ellie carpenter x reader #ellie carpenter #danielle van de donk #danielle van de donk x reader #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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katareyoudrilling · 2 months ago

Text

Audience of One (Dave York one-shot)

Pairing: Bodyguard Dave York x Female Reader

Summary: When online comments threaten your safety, you reluctantly agree to hire a bodyguard

Word count: ~3k

Rating: Explicit (18+ only. NO MINORS)

Content Warnings: a bit of danger, masturbation, unprotected PIV (please use protection IRL), a hickey (sort of)

A/N: This is my entry for @burntheedges Roll-a-Trope challenge! I got famous person AU and twisted it to fit my very niche tastes lol. It has been quite a while since I posted something, thanks for hanging in there with me. I really hope you enjoy it! Big thanks to @burntheedges for the beta 😘

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

Dave York Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist – link in my bio or let me know!

“I really think you’re overreacting.” You finish cleaning off your instrument and securing it in your case.

“I’m not and it’s not open to discussion.”

You sigh. “I’m a concert violinist, not a movie star. No one is out to ‘get me’ or whatever. This is ridiculous.”

“It’s not ridiculous,” your manager forces you to meet her gaze. “There have been emails, social media posts… I know you don’t want to believe it, but there are creeps out there focused on you. I need you to be safe.”

She’s looking at you with so much care and concern that the fight leaves your body. “Fine. Send him in.”

“Thank you.” She turns to open the door to the dressing room and gestures to someone in the hallway. You gather the rest of your things into your bag and prepare to head to your hotel.

Your manager steps back into the room trailed by a tall, broad, dark-haired, incredibly attractive man in an overcoat.

“Meet Dave York, your bodyguard.”

. . . . . . . . . .

“I’m really sorry about this,” you apologize for the tenth time since getting into the back of the town car with your new bodyguard in tow. “All this fuss is unnecessary.”

Dave regards you across the darkened backseat. “Your manager doesn’t think so and neither do I. The sooner you accept my help, the better this will go.”

You lose your train of thought as the streetlights sweep across his gorgeous features. His pouty lips… his aquiline nose… his strong jaw… his dark eyes… each feature takes its turn in the lamplight. It’s probably for the best, taking him in all at once might actually kill you. No one has the right to be this handsome.

You shake yourself out of your reverie and find Dave watching you closely. You look away quickly, shifting your focus out your window. You cross your legs, and the slit of your dress opens, revealing your legs up to mid-thigh. You quickly adjust the skirt to cover yourself and tell yourself that you’re imagining Dave’s eyes flickering away.

You clear your throat, “Right, umm… how is this going to go, exactly?”

“I’ll be with you during the day. When you return to your hotel room at night, I’ll hand off responsibility to my security team. There will be extra security at your concerts and events as well.”

“That doesn’t sound too intrusive.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“I hope you like classical music.”

“We’ll find out.”

. . . . . . . . . . .

And that’s how it goes. Dave meets you outside your door when you’re ready to leave in the morning and accompanies you on each step of your schedule. He tags along to masterclasses, rehearsals, concerts, and your own practice sessions. Ushering you in and out of town cars and back exits.

You share brief conversations in the car. His dry, sarcastic wit comes out little by little as you spend time with him. He often makes you laugh and you thrill when his pouty lips tilt at the edges into a wry smirk at something you said.

He leaves you at your hotel room door in each city at the end of the day, waiting until you close the door to call his security team.

You don’t lean against the door and wonder where he goes after he’s with you. That would be inappropriate.

You don’t replay the events of the day, the glances, the almost touches, that assuredly exist only in your own imagination.

You don’t catalog the little things you’ve learned about him. Single. No kids. Ex-military. Coffee, black. Unexpected crinkles around the eyes when he smiles.

You don’t seek him out in the concert halls, looking for a sign that he enjoys the music you’re making, always finding him watching you intently from backstage, still and focused.

You don’t find yourself pulling out your favorite toy to relieve some tension more and more frequently as the days spent in his company add up.

Definitely not.

. . . . . . . . . .

“You played something different tonight.” Dave’s deep voice breaks the silence of the car.

You hum your assent, “Sarasate’s Carmen Fantasy. It’s a real crowd pleaser.”

“I didn’t know a violin could do that.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, the soloist gets to show off in that one.”

“You like to show off, don’t you?”

The energy in the car shifts in an instant. Dave’s dark eyes are even darker than usual as he regards you across the cab. The question hangs heavy in the air.

“You have to like to show off to do my job,” you explain a bit breathlessly. You meet his dark gaze, and he hums in approval. “Do you like to show off, Dave?”

He drags his thumb across his lower lip, your eyes can’t help but follow the movement.

“No, I don’t like to show off. I like to watch.”

His words hit you like an electrical current, zinging across your skin, breaking you out into full body goose bumps.

You hold each other’s gaze in the dark, your breath coming in increasingly erratic pants. He doesn’t look away. Neither do you.

You cross your legs and allow your skirt to fall open up your legs, just like the first night you were in the car with him. This time, the dress has an even higher slit—you save this particular gown for when you perform the Carmen, you enjoy playing into the persona. This time, you don’t cover up.

You watch as his gaze flickers to your bare legs, exposed practically all the way to your underwear, the tip of his tongue sneaks out to wet his plush lips.

He drags his eyes back up to yours. The air is thick with possibility. A line has definitely been crossed. Words begin to bubble up from your gut when the car pulls to a stop in front of the hotel.

The moment pops like a balloon.

Dave opens his door and swings up and out of the car. In a haze, you open your door and step out into the night.

The next moments go by in a flash.

You hear someone shout your name, Dave yells, you’re shoved against the car, unfamiliar hands grab your shoulders and whisk you into the hotel lobby and into the elevator. The doors close before you can understand the commotion happening outside the hotel.

You’re flanked by security guards you’ve seen around after hours. The words “assailant” “custody” “weapon” permeate the buzzing in your brain. Questions form and dissipate in the tangle of your thoughts before you can get them out.

The elevator doors open on your floor, and you are bodily moved into your hotel room. Before they can close the door, you finally manage to ask what’s going on only to be met with vague instructions to stay in your room and wait.

You pace the floor and look out your window, hoping for a glimpse of what might be happening on the street below, but you’re on the wrong side of the building. It doesn’t hold any answers for you.

Your hands reach for your phone only to realize it’s still in your bag in the car, along with your instrument case.

The car.

Your mind returns to that moment right before you pulled up to the hotel. So ripe with promise and possibility.

Then you had gotten out of the car.

Oh shit.

You got out of the car yourself. You opened your door yourself. You weren’t supposed to do that. Dave opens your door. Dave ushers you out of the car.

It’s all your fault.

Just as your thoughts threaten to spiral, there’s a firm knock on your door.

“It’s me. Everything is ok. Open the door.” You hear Dave through the door. You rush over and check the peephole like he told you to. At least you can say you remembered to do that. You confirm it’s him and open the door.

“Dave, I—”

He crashes into you, pressing you against the wall with the length of his body before claiming your mouth with a rough, desperate kiss. His hands grip your chin, your shoulders, your hip as he devours your mouth.

Your hands scrabble against his chest, finding the lapels of his coat to hang on.

Just as suddenly as you found yourself kissing Dave, you aren’t. He pulls back abruptly leaving you cold and breathless.

“Fuck, I shouldn’t ha—”

You pull him back to you by his coat, drawing his mouth back to yours. You lick into his mouth, moaning as he responds.

This kiss is less frantic, but still full of need. Your tongues tangle together, tasting and testing.

Dave eventually breaks away, resting his forehead against yours.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes, I’m ok, but what happened?”

“A man came running toward you, the police have him now. I’m sure it’s the person making those creepy comments about you online.”

“I got out of the car by myself, Dave, I’m so sorry, I know I’m n—”

“Shh,” he hushes you. “It’s ok. You’re ok.”

He presses his lips to yours, swallowing your protests, until you melt into him.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He drags his lips down your throat, across your collarbones and shoulders. He licks back up the side of your neck.

You gasp as he drags his tongue over the sensitive spot on your neck.

“I noticed this mark the night I first met you,” he murmurs into your skin. “I was so jealous of whoever got to do that to you. I kept waiting to find out who it was, to see if they were worthy of marking your skin, but there has been no one and the mark has stayed.” You sense the unasked question.

“My… it’s… a violin hickey,” you pant as he drags his nose up the column of your throat and along your jaw. “Where my violin rubs against my neck when I play.” He chuckles.

“Should I be jealous of your violin?”

“Probably.”

He hums against you. “Fair enough.”

He steps back to the hotel room door and for a moment your heart drops thinking that he might be leaving, but he only opens the door to pull your bag and violin case into the room. You hear him conversing with a guard outside before he closes the door, locking the deadbolt before turning back to you.

He shrugs off his overcoat and suit jacket. He loosens the knot of his tie and begins to unbutton the cuffs of his sleeves. You watch the movement of his fingers with rapt attention.

“So, Miss Show off. Do you want to show off for me?” His eyes flash dangerous and dark and a thrill runs up your spine.

Adrenaline tingles in your fingertips as you find the zipper of your dress and pull it down your side.

You lock eyes with Dave as you let your gown fall to the floor, a puddle at your feet. You are left standing in only your panties and high heels.

Dave drinks you in, caressing your curves with his warm gaze. Your nipples harden under his perusal and wetness pools between your legs. It’s all you can do to not rub your thighs together.

“Get on the bed.” He commands, his voice deep and rasping with need. His shirtsleeves are rolled up now, exposing the tendons and veins in his forearms. His hands fist at his sides, clearly fighting the urge to touch you. But you’ve learned this about Dave, he is always in control of himself.

You walk over to the bed, turning your back to him and adding an extra sway to your hips. You catch his strangled moan at the sight of your round ass framed by the string of your thong. You turn to sit at the end of the bed with a satisfied smirk. Dave stands at arm’s length from you, pinning you with his dark eyes.

“Show me. Let me see if those fingers can play your pussy as well as they play your violin.”

You gasp at his filthy words and your center clenches with need. Keeping your eyes on him once again, you drag your panties down your legs and off, kicking off your shoes as you do, and scoot a bit farther onto the bed.

You lean back into the plush bedding, resting on one elbow, knees bent, and spread your legs for Dave.

He drinks you in hungrily as you part yourself for him, dipping your fingers into your wetness.

Your mouth falls open as you circle your clit, a moan escaping your chest. You fight to keep your eyes open so you can watch Dave watch you. You really do like to show off and he is an eager audience.

You quicken your pace, hitting the rhythm you like best, and find yourself careening towards your peak. Your hips buck on the bed, and you whine that you’re close.

“Show me,” Dave commands one last time before you fall over the edge, pulsing and shivering through your release.

“Do I get a standing ovation?” you ask, breathless, once you’ve come back to yourself.

“You tell me.”

You crack one eye open and find that he’s standing at the end of the bed naked. His cock juts proudly away from his hips at full attention.

“My favorite kind.” You lick your lips as you sit up and crawl to the edge of the bed. You look up at him as you take the tip of his cock between your lips, sliding down the hard length of him. You watch his stomach flex with effort as he resists fucking into your mouth.

It makes you want to make him lose control. He’s always alert and watching. Even in the car on the way to the hotel tonight, he kept his cool as you tempted him. Bursting into your room to kiss you is the only time you’ve seen him not in complete control of himself.

You tongue and suck and moan around him, losing yourself in the rhythm. Dave drags his fingers down your cheek and throat.

“Look at you, fuck.” He cups your breasts, swaying heavily between your arms, and pinches your nipples. “I want to watch these tits bounce while I fuck you.”

You whimper around his length, arousal practically dripping down your legs. He pulls out of your mouth, diving down to kiss you deeply and press you backwards onto the bed.

He arranges himself against the headboard and drags you on top of him. “Ride me, baby,” he commands. You eagerly comply, lining his weeping cock up with your entrance.

Your eyes roll back in your head as you sink down onto him, the stretch is so delicious with every inch you take. When you bottom out, you open your eyes to find Dave breathing hard, the tendons of his neck taut with effort.

You rise and sink back down slowly, angling yourself backwards so he can see his cock disappear into your wet heat. He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches between you, giving you friction that makes you shudder with each roll of your hips.

“Fuck yes,” he groans, eyes locked on your greedy pussy, swallowing him whole. You feel yourself start to flutter around him, the intensity of his eyes on you drives your arousal higher and higher. Being watched with so much desire gives you such a thrill that your orgasm threatens to take you far too soon.

You slow and lean forward, placing a hand on the headboard over Dave’s head. Your breasts wobble in front of his face and he quickly takes one nipple into his mouth. You arch your back into him as he sucks and tugs, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.

He holds your hips still with one hand as he feasts on you, bringing his other to cup and pinch your tender flesh.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cry as the pressure builds in your core. Your hips grind into him, seeking relief as he relentlessly toys with you.

He allows you to move, to chase your high, riding his cock with abandon as he looks up at you with lust blown eyes. You tilt your hips, and he finds your clit once again.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he praises you as you near your peak. “Come on my cock, baby. I want to feel you.”

You come with a gasp, rising up on your knees as your pussy clenches then collapsing back down with shuddering pulses. Dave caresses your back before rolling you over and gently pulling out. He kneels between your legs, stroking his length, as you lie boneless and hazy.

“That was so fucking hot, baby.” His jaw clenches as he strokes himself faster and faster. “I fucking love to watch you. Watch you play your violin… watch you touch yourself… watch you fuck…”

“It’s my turn, Dave,” you interrupt. “I want to watch you come. Come all over me.” You prop yourself up on your elbows and smirk at the way a shudder moves through his body. He lets go with a groan, ropes of cum painting your tummy and chest.

You both collapse, satisfied. Dave cleans you up, taking extra care with your breasts. You smirk as he chases the warm cloth with his even warmer mouth.

“What happens now?” you ask later, when you’re twined together on the bed. “If that was the guy…”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me and even after you don’t,” Dave presses a kiss to the top of your head. You snuggle into his side, relaxing in the knowledge that you are safe and thrilled with the prospect of showing off again for your audience of one.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: I don't have, and never have had, a violin hickey. I probably don't practice enough lol. But they are often seen as a point of pride among violinists.

Dave York Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist - in reblog

#roll a trope challenge #dave york #famous person au #dave york x reader #pedro pascal characters

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yestrday · 1 year ago

Text

COLLEGE CLASSMATE! YUTA who has his eye on you ever since you two entered college. a young, bright-eyed thing who moved from the boonies to the big city at a chance to find out more of the world beyond your farmlands and vast expanses of grass. who noted with wry amusement the pep in your step and the twinkle in your eye as you sit in the front row like a good student with an eagerness to learn.

COLLEGE CLASSMATE! YUTA who you approach with a stunning and naive smile. you're asking him for notes, the professor being too fast for your hands to properly take notes. he asks for your sns and sends you the pics of his note, and you eagerly thank him while unaware of the glint in his eye at this opportunity.

COLLEGE CLASSMATE! YUTA who scrolls through your social media and collects information about the kind of person you are. you know little about the world, but you're eager to learn more. your comments sections are full of relatives and friends congratulating you on you enrollment in the big city, and your cheery replies of thanks and acknowledgment. yuta chuckles as he sets aside his phone, eyes still trained on your back. how cute.

COLLEGE CLASSMATE! YUTA who continues keeping an eye on you. you keep asking him for notes because your cute lil brain just can't keep up, and he notes the waver in your smile when he shows off a little bit of his intellect. from how casual he is about his studies yet still getting high marks, the distance between you two is obvious. but there's still a spark of determination in your eyes—

— until prefinal grades come around and he sees you staring blankly at your phone. yuta angles his phone on purpose to let you get a glimpse of his, and he marvels at how bleaker your expression becomes. all your hard work... all your enthusiasm and eagerness... for nothing? have you always been this stupid? you were... you were always the brightest in your local school...

COLLEGE CLASSMATE! YUTA who watches you throw yourself into your studies more than ever. you don't have that pep in your stel anymore, your eyes have become dull and beavy, and no one can strike a conversation with you because you're always asleep. yuta is your only companion, angling your head on his shoulder so that you can rest more comfortably, leveling onlookers with a stern stare as he shushes them with a finger.

COLLEGE CLASSMATE! YUTA who watches your eyes lose the last of their light when midterm grades come. your fingers are trembling as you clutch your phone, and you bite your lip to avoid the tears spilling out. yuta puts a comforting hand over yours, and you slowly clutch his shirt. "i did my best, didn't i?" you ask. yuta hums, hand on your neck. "... i did, didn't i?"

COLLEGE CLASSMATE! YUTA who is your only point of contact for the rest of the finals. you don't even try. instead, you cling to yuta like he's your last chance at validation. you preen at his compliments, blush when he says he likes your outfit. the only time the light comes back to your eyes is when his attention is on you, and you feel a sugary rush in your veins whenever he smiles at you.

you, who does nothing for their schoolwork but instead focus on making yuta happy. you latch onto him like a clingy girlfriend, and he's more than happy for you to do so. while he studies for the upcoming exams, you're cuddled up on his lap, keeping him warm for the winter months. he pats your head and rubs your temple as you doze off to sleep.

sometimes when you voice the need to study, yuta shushes such needless concerns away. "you don't need to think so much," he whispers, scratching your scalp and he watches you preen. "aren't you happy right now? with me?"

you nuzzle into his touch, eyes fluttering shut under his touch. "... yeah."

"good," he hums, kissing you on the forehead. "then don't think of anything else but me."

#yandere yuta okkotsu #yandere jujutsu kaisen #sorry i typed this out in a rush im really so low energy abt my studies #i dont know what to do anymore.....#im so.... tired #yester.shorts #i need someone to pat me and make me forget abt everythibg #yandere x reader #soft yandere #yanderecore #yandere jjk #yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen

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kangaracha · 6 months ago

Text

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 20

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n this is dedicated to the three readers who left such lovely messages after the last chapter, particularly the one who left a long list of tags when reblogging the masterlist yesterday. just a reminder that i love and appreciate you, and your comments mean the world <3

previous | masterlist | next

---

You're sitting in a small, empty waiting room, away from the hustle and noise of the main room, when I.N flies through the open doorway and straight across the room, his feet moving so fast that you swear he almost crashes into the wall on the other side.

"Hide me," he says, sliding onto the floor on the far side of your seat.

You blink in confusion, frowning as you look down at him. "What?"

"From Changbin," he says, his breath hitching in his throat like he's been running for miles, and aggressively waves a hand towards the door. "Don't look down here. Hide me."

"I.N-AH!" Changbin's voice cries in the hallway as if summoned by the very mention of his name, the final syllable drawn out long and loud. The sound, and the grimace that covers I.N's face in response as he sits there curled against the wall makes you crack a smile, your eyes tearing away from him and back to your phone screen just in time to feign innocence as Changbin appears in the open doorway, a wide grin on his face as his eyes search the visible parts of the room.

"I.N-ah~," he calls, cajolingly now, and leans through the door as if that will be enough to entice the younger boy out, to make him forget about the deranged yelling that had followed him down the hallway just a moment before. "Come on, I.N-ah. I just want to give you my love."

From behind him, you spy Hyunjin with a camera in one hand, hovering over Changbin's shoulder as he hesitates to come into the room. His other hand is covering his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh. "He's not in here," you tell them, resisting every urge to look down at the boy hiding behind your chair - or to break, a laugh trying its hardest to bubble up to the surface of your lips no matter how hard you shove it down. "He ran past going that way." You point out to the hall again, in the direction Changbin had been heading.

Changbin stares at you for a moment, eyes narrowed like he's trying to figure out if you're lying or not. "I saw him come in here," he says, but only like he's testing the waters - not like he's sure of the fact, or willing to defend it with his life.

A smile creeps across your face. "You're seeing things again," you say, and watch him scoff and bluster, withdrawing from the doorway.

"Our noona is lying to me," he says to the camera, and then giggles when he looks back to see the look on your face before he leaves, saying something to Hyunjin that you can't quite hear when their voices fade down the hallway, following their footsteps.

Several seconds later, I.N climbs out of hiding, circling around you to slump onto the other end of the couch in a sigh of relief. "I knew I could trust you," he says, a hand tossing his hair away from his forehead and then reaching to drag his own phone out of his pocket.

"Is this what you usually do for your vlogs?" you ask in return, your phone sinking into your lap. "A lot of screaming and running around?"

A wry smile crosses I.N's face. "Changbin does that anyway. Hyunjin just happened to be holding the camera when he grabbed me." He pauses, and then adds, "Isn't this how every practice goes too?"

You shrug. "There's usually less chasing. Maybe it's just because the practice rooms are smaller."

"And they can lock the zoo animals in with us." You snort a laugh and lift your phone again, your restless scroll continuing. Several seconds of silence stretch between you before I.N comes up with another question. "What are you doing in here alone?"

"Nothing," you sigh, and the phone drops away from your field of vision again, replaced with the sight of the other side of the room. White walls, folding tables covered in mess, abandoned chairs. Boring. Thoughtless. "Trying to find something to do that isn't thinking about tomorrow. I don't know, nothing important."

"You could always poke Changbin into tackling you," I.N suggests lightly. "Usually when that happens to me, I can't even remember what I was doing before."

You wince at the thought of it; so far, you've stayed away from the roughhousing that occasionally breaks out and you'd not intended to get involved in the future. Not as a victim, anyway. "I'm good, thanks," you reply wryly, making light of the curl of anxiety that rattles at your ribcage for no particular reason. "It was really loud up there earlier, so I came down here."

"I should have come with you," he sighs. "I didn't know we were being nervous in peace down here."

The way you look at him, head turning sharply and eyes narrowing as your thoughts race to catch up, makes him do a double take, confusion clouding his eyes. "You're nervous?" you ask; and sure, it's not so strange when you think about it and remember the jitter of nerves that crawls up and down your spine every time you go near that stage, but for him to feel like that too, a whole day before you go out there and do the job you came here to do? Surely, after three years, it got easier than that. Surely he couldn't be that nervous.

"Probably not as much as you are," he tells you, "but yeah. It's a big stage, and there's a new song-"

He stops like he is going to say more and then drops it, the end of his sentence hanging unfinished in the air. "I thought you'd be more...used to it, by now," you say, a hand waving in the air vaguely like that will help to explain your case. "Not that you wouldn't be nervous at all, but..."

"I think the others are," I.N says, leaning back into the cushions of the couch with a shrug that slumps his shoulders downward. His hands fiddle idly with his phone in his lap, snapping the case on and off as he thinks. "I feel like I'm still learning though, like you. That's why Lee Know teaches me a lot."

You're aware that you're staring at him like he's crazy, but he takes it in stride, not even flinching under your scrutiny. "If you're this good and still learning, I've got no hope," you tell him, and then you slump back too, one leg sliding up under you so that you can lean on your shoulder.

He openly scoffs at you. "You're just as good as me. And you came in here and just started...fitting in and working."

"That's a lie," you insist, but the absurdity of it all makes a breathy laugh bubble up from inside your chest, easing the tension that keeps building there. "I don't think I fitted in at all when I started. Sometimes I still can't believe that I'm actually going to make it to debut; or that I even belong here."

I.N's lips twist, his eyes softening. "Sometimes I don't either," he admits.

You laugh again, this noise far more undignified than the last one. "Wild thing to say when you've been in a successful group for three years."

The look he gives you is cutting, his eyebrows raised high. "Yeah?" he questions. "And you saying you're not going to debut is any different?"

"I haven't debuted yet, global idol," you point out.

"Because tomorrow is so far away," he says with a roll of his eyes.

"Technically, I don't debut until an official comeback," you argue.

"You think you're just going to leave after performing with us tomorrow?" he scoffs. "Be more serious. It's embarrassing for you."

"I am being serious!"

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm calling Changbin to come and get you."

"Not if I leave first."

You stare at each other for several seconds, your phone raised in the air between you like a threat. I.N is the first to break, lips pinching together tight in an effort to swallow the smile that eventually breaks them, the giggle that bubbles up at how stupid an argument this is. "Don't call Changbin," he says, breaking about as fast as you'd expected him to. "I'll break your phone."

"Who are you, Seungmin?" you question; your phone moves out of his reach anyway, just in case. "You spend too much time together."

"Only since you came," I.N throws out carelessly. "He won't leave me alone." The way he says it is innocuous, like he truly doesn't mean anything by the words, and you believe it; but still, it sticks in your mind.

"No one leaves you alone," you point out, carefully stepping around the implication that Seungmin likes hanging out with you. Or taking care of you. Or something. "You're too cute to ignore."

The face I.N pulls is disgusted, the mirror image of the expression he gives the other boys when they start paying him too much attention. "Maybe you spend too much time with Changbin," he suggests.

The dryness of his tone is funny enough to make you laugh, the noise bursting unbidden from your mouth. "I'm just stating a fact," you assure him. "You're cursed with that face. There's nothing you can do about it now."

"Have you ever toured in Australia?" you ask some time after Chan has taken over the laptop again, your career as Stray Kids' producer as short lived as it was spontaneous. You're sitting now in one of the armchairs from across the room, dragged over next to the table in the pretense of having any kind of input in whatever he is doing as he fiddles endlessly with the details of Han's song.

"We went last year," Chan says, glancing up at you. "Why?"

You shrug carelessly, leaning back in your chair. "Just wondering. I haven't been back in a while. It'd be nice to go one day."

He pauses a moment longer, his hands on the keyboard. "How long is 'a while'?"

You realise you might have made a mistake when your lips press together around the answer, reluctant to give it. "Since I came to Korea?" you spit out eventually, when the tension in the air reaches the breaking point between too late to answer and not saying anything at all.

The look he gives you says everything he needs to, though his mouth opens to back it up anyway. "You haven't been home in - six years?"

"Sixish," you confirm. "Something like that."

"Why?" he presses. "You've never had a holiday?"

"I've never had time," you say defensively. "Every time my holidays came up, I was working on evaluations or something, so I just never got there."

He shakes his head, returning to his work. "We'll tour in Australia," he says, like it's a promise that is his to keep, not some employee of the company whose name you don't know. "And you'll get a holiday before that."

"Why do I feel like you're going to force me to take a holiday?" you ask, drawing your legs up underneath you.

The look that he shoots at you between edits on his computer screen is withering enough to belong on Minho's face - and without words attached, his gaze saying what it wants all by itself. "Did you take every holiday you had as a trainee?" you ask.

"Most of them," he answers primly. "And I went home a couple of times too. Like a normal trainee."

"Don't call me weird," you say, but there's no heat behind your voice - only the weakness, maybe, when the realisation of how much time and distance has stretched between you and a place you keep calling home, brushes up against your mind. You hold it at arm's length rather than embracing it, unwilling to sit here and cry about it on a night like this.

"You're not weird," he answers. "Just unsocialised."

"Unsocialised?"

The incredulous look you give him is met with a laugh, the sound of it high and infectious as it invades the room. "No one ever taught you how to do anything except work," he explains.

"Hey," you say, as if you're offended. "I'm fun. I know how to have fun."

"How to have fun at work," he insists.

"Are we not having fun right now?" you question.

"And what are we doing right now?" he fires back, pointing at his laptop.

It takes you several seconds to realise the corner he's backed you into, your eyes tracking from the laptop to him several times. "Working," you sigh in defeat and wrap your arms around your knee, drawing it up towards your chest like a shield as you sag into the back of your seat.

"It's okay," Chan says smugly. "At least you are fun to hang out with. Some people don't even have that going for them."

"I'm so fun," you insist, knowingly doubling down to avoid having to accept the compliment. "Companies can't resist me. Teachers never want me to debut and leave their classes. I'm the most fun person in the world."

"Everything you just said was about work," he points out with a wolfish grin.

You sigh again, loud enough that he can't miss it. "Maybe it's all I think about," you allow. "Maybe after this and comeback, I could make time for something else."

"After comeback?" he echoes. "That's another month away."

"And yet, it haunts me."

A smile pulls at his lips, but he doesn't reply, distracted by whatever he's fixing on his laptop. You wait as he listens to the song, running one part over and over again and fiddling with a fine detail you can't see or hear, even if you were the one looking at it.

His voice catches you by surprise when he speaks a minute or so later, your ears just grown used to the comfortable silence that had fallen over the room. "I never asked why they took you out of Midnight."

"Oh." You sit back, rubbing at your tired eyes. "I didn't 'fit the image they had for the group'. Not pretty enough."

"I'm sure that wasn't exactly what they meant," Chan says slowly.

An acerbic smile twists at your mouth. "Maybe," you allow. "I don't know. It's the obvious answer - have you seen Midnight? They're all insanely beautiful, and I'm just - okay, I guess."

You have a feeling, as you watch Chan's brow furrow and his eyes narrow in thought, that you might have revealed your thoughts to the wrong boy first. Maybe you should have told Minho instead, or Seungmin or Jeongin, friends that would tell you you're wrong at an arm's length. Chan is a fixer, on top of everything else that he does, and that look in his eyes is only an indication that he's finally narrowed in on his next project.

"Well, you're a better visual than all of us in SKZ," he says, the firm tone of his voice only confirming your suspicions. "And I don't mind if we never look as good as Midnight."

"Lying is such a bad habit, Bang Chan," you say lightly, trying to lift the suffocating, sombre blanket of air that has fallen over the room. "I look at you guys every day. I know how pretty you are."

"You lied first," he scoffs. "Saying you're ugly. You can't just go around spreading rumours like that."

"I didn't say ugly," you argue. "I just said I don't stand a chance next to those other girls."

"Liar," he insists, and struggles to swallow a grin.

"I'm not!" You sit up straight in your chair, the energy that suddenly rushes to your voice unexpected. You realise only a moment later that you've spoken too loud for a hotel room in the middle of the night and swallow down the way that your heart picks up pace and a smile fights for control of your face, lowering your volume before you continue. "I'm telling you, the bar is so high. I waited four years for that debut, and some of those girls just walked in and got a place. Not that they didn't deserve it, but like..."

"Lee Know did that," Chan points out. "Debuted in six months."

"Do you know Ellie?" you ask; and to your surprise, he nods. "I think she was here for weeks before they added her to the predebut lineup. I feel like I don't even really know her, she's been here for so short a time. And she knows idols from all kinds of groups already - the more I think about it, the more I'm like...how did I even think I had a chance? Maybe I should have just known I wouldn't debut."

"Maybe you were just always meant to be here with us," Chan offers before you can spiral any further down that particular rabbit hole - pulling you out into the light, shovel and all, like it is nothing to him. "Lee Know nearly got taken out of the group too, you know. Maybe the people making these decisions just don't know what they're doing."

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. "Really?" you ask, distracted by this new piece of information. "I need to watch your survival show. I've missed so many key points."

"No," he groans again, burying his head in his hands. "We're not watching that. Forget anyone ever mentioned it."

"All of you need to get your story straight," you tell him. "Seungmin says I need to watch every piece of content ever filmed, you tell me not to watch any of it; how am I supposed to know what to do?"

"You should know not to listen to Seungmin by now," Chan says.

"I think we should watch it," you counter just as quickly. "I think it's a great idea."

"No," he insists. "It's four AM. Go to bed. Don't watch bad TV shows."

"You just told me I need a new hobby."

"Get a normal hobby."

"Watching reality TV is a normal hobby."

"Don't watch the show."

You swallow a smile, struggling to keep a straight face as you stand and stretch, your feet wandering one step at a time towards the door. "I'm going to watch the show," you tell him, deadpan. "I'll tell you all about it in the morning."

"No," he complains again, like if he says it enough he'll be able to stop you. He makes no effort to do anything else though; just sits there and looks pathetic, weighing up whether whining is worth it or not. "Go to sleep."

"Are you going to sleep?" you ask pointedly, taking in the sight of him sitting there at the table, his work still open on his laptop.

The moment that he notices, he closes the laptop, dragging himself out of his own chair. "Yes," he claims, too bold for someone who is always up at this hour. "You know what I'm not doing?"

"What?"

"Watching that show in the middle of the night."

The way he says it makes you crack, a laugh huffing from your throat just before you choke on it and the effort of holding it down. It makes him laugh too, the sound escaping all too easily from his mouth. "Goodnight," you say before he can celebrate his victory, backing towards the door.

"Goodnight," he echoes, his smile softening his voice and lighting up his face in a familiar, joyous way. Your feet don't hesitate at the sound of it, but your heart does, your chest aching for something you don't think you've ever had, but maybe you have found - your spine crawling at the thought of it being over, even though you will wake up in the morning and he will still be here, and all the others will be around you too, and-

And you will debut, on that stage, in front of the thousands of people that love them even more than you do.

You try to leave the thought behind you as you close the door, back there with Chan, who will have the sense to throw it in the trash where it belongs, but it sticks to you, echoing in the hallway as you take the short walk back to your own quiet room, slinking around incessantly in the shadows when you turn off the lights and slide underneath the covers of your bed, resolving to at least lie here until the alarm goes off in the morning.

Tomorrow, you will debut.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002

@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

@splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

184 notes · View notes

lila-lou · 6 months ago

Text

✨ His only exception - Pt. 28/? ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, Language, angst, fluff, soft Ben, Ben being slightly insecure

Word Count: 6891

A/N: This is part 28 of “His only exception”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

As Ben drove to the Vought Tower, his hand remained on your thigh. You glanced over at him, noticing the tense set of his jaw, and decided to break the silence.

"How's everything going with the team?, you asked, your voice soft as you reached over to squeeze his hand.

Ben sighed, his grip tightening slightly. "I still don't trust those fuckers any farther than I can throw 'em".

It wasn't easy for Ben to trust others, especially not them.

You shook your head, still unable to believe the extent of the lies and betrayal that had unfolded within the team. The memory of how they had treated Ben made your blood boil, but you knew dwelling on it wouldn't change the past.

"I still can't believe what they did to you", you muttered, your voice tinged with anger and frustration.

Ben shrugged nonchalantly, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "Eh, it's enough justice to see their fucked-up and pissed faces every day", he replied, his tone laced with satisfaction. "Now they have to do exactly what I want".

"But… as much as I'd love to rip them apart", he admitted with a wry chuckle, "They're doing a pretty decent job. They're taking care of all the supes I want to get vanished, and the media seems to like them".

He paused, a hint of grudging respect in his voice. "Can't deny they're effective, I'll give them that", he added.

As the two of you stood in the elevator, Ben looked down at you, his expression serious. "After the meeting, I'm going with you to the doctor", he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "We need to make sure everything's okay with you and the baby".

You nodded, your hand brushing softly over your stomach, a gesture of both comfort and uncertainty. "Yeah, I guess we do", you murmured softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of emotions. "It's just… all so surreal, you know?".

Ben's gaze softened as he reached out to gently squeeze your hand. "Don't worry too much about it", he reassured you, his tone surprisingly gentle.

As you stepped into the meeting room, the team was already waiting impatiently. Butcher seemed particularly annoyed, his arms crossed over his chest. The others raised eyebrows as they saw you walking slightly behind Ben, a rare sight that piqued their curiosity.

"Well, look who decided to join us. And what about you, did you crawl out from under your rock, (Y/N)?".

Before you could even respond, Ben's protective instincts kicked in, his tone sharp and defensive. "Watch your fucking mouth, Butcher", he snapped, his jaw clenched tightly. "She's here because she damn well pleases, and that's none of your business".

You shot Ben a grateful glance, appreciating his defense, but also feeling a bit annoyed at his brusque manner.

Butcher couldn't resist pushing Ben's buttons further. "Ooh, touchy, aren't we? Didn't realize you had such a soft spot for the lady".

Ben's expression darkened, his eyes narrowing dangerously as he shot Butcher a menacing glare. "Keep pushing your luck, Butcher, and you'll fucking regret it", he warned.

Ben pulled out a chair for you, gesturing for you to sit down. With crossed arms, he stood beside you, his expression stern and guarded as Butcher filled everyone in about the supes who seemed to want to stand up against the new Vought. Meanwhile, you felt some gentle movements in your belly, a sensation that both excited and unsettled you.

As Butcher spoke, Ben glanced down at you, noticing the subtle change in your demeanor. "You alright?", he murmured softly, concern flickering in his eyes.

You nodded softly, trying to concentrate on the meeting as A-Train and Annie showed some video footage. Hughie chimed in, directing his comment to Ben, "No one knows where the supes are hiding right now. They're keeping a low profile".

Ben's expression darkened as he absorbed Hughie's words, his mind already strategizing the next move. "Alright", he muttered, his voice firm. "We'll find them. Keep an eye on any leads, no matter how small".

Frenchie reminded Ben of the media conference in two hours, and Ben rolled his eyes, grumbling, "Annie should take this".

Annie raised both arms in protest, but Ben brushed her off rudely. "No, you'll fucking handle it, blondie", he insisted brusquely.

Just then, a wave of nausea hit you.

Again Ben looked down at you, noticing your pale complexion. "You´re sure you´re fucking okay?", he asked.

You shook your head slightly, feeling queasier by the moment. "I think I need some air", you mumbled, quickly stepping out of the room.

Butcher's voice followed you, gruff and concerned. "What the bloody hell is going on with her?", he demanded.

Ben waved him off dismissively, already following you out of the room. "Like i said, none of your business", he retorted sharply, his focus solely on you.

With Ben on your heels, you quickly stepped into the nearest bathroom, the urgency rising as nausea overwhelmed you. You doubled over, vomiting painfully into the toilet, your body trembling with each heave. Ben hovered nearby, concern etched into his features, but unsure of how to help in this situation.

Ben held your hair back.

"What do you need?", he asked, his voice tinged with worry. But you were unable to respond, the waves of nausea rendering you speechless.

As Ben watched you in distress, he felt a wave of helplessness wash over him. It was a rare moment of vulnerability for him, accustomed to being in control and taking charge. Seeing you in pain, and feeling powerless to alleviate it, left him feeling unusually weak and unsettled.

Annie turned to Frenchie, a curious expression on her face. "So, are Soldier Boy and (Y/N) a couple now?", she asked.

Frenchie shrugged, feigning ignorance. "Mon amie, how should I know?", he replied casually.

Annie raised an eyebrow, pointing out the fact that you seemed to like Frenchie the most.

Frenchie chuckled lightly. "Well, I don't know for sure, but it certainly seems that way", he admitted with a knowing smile.

Butcher's tone was sharp as he addressed Frenchie. "Then why's Soldier Boy still a tense asshole when he can stick one away whenever he wants?", he quipped, his words dripping with sarcasm.

Annie nudged Butcher with her elbow, shooting him a disapproving look. "Come on, Butcher, ease up", she chided, her tone firm but gentle.

"Are you fucking happy taking orders from a supe on coke with PTSD?".

Hughie mumbled, "It's better than being dead", as A-Train chimed in, "Soldier Boy's actually doing a pretty decent job, even though I hate to admit it".

"Plus he didn’t kill anyone like Homelander did, and he's actually trying to represent the supes as the good ones again", Hughie added.

Ben held you steady from behind, his grip firm yet gentle. "Are you feeling any better?", he asked.

You took a deep breath, feeling the nausea subsiding. "Yeah, a little", you replied, leaning back against him for support.

Ben helped you up, his strong arms steadying you as you made your way to the sink. After rinsing your mouth, you leaned against the sink, feeling weak and shaky. Ben stood beside you, his concern evident in his furrowed brow.

"You´re fine?", he asked softly, his hand reaching out to rub soothing circles on your back.

"Yeah, kinda", you mumbled. "This part of pregnancy is absolutely no fun at all".

With Ben's hand on your lower back, guiding you inside, you returned to the meeting. Annie eyed you suspiciously, but Ben quickly took charge, instructing everyone on what to do. Then, he stepped towards the elevator with you.

You made your way to the doctor's office for a battery of tests, with Ben steadfastly by your side, his arms crossed over his supe suit as he watched over you protectively.

The doctor reviewed your files and then turned to you. "I want to try another ultrasound", he said, his tone gentle yet determined, "Even though the last one didn't work as we hoped".

You nodded and changed into a gown, then hopped onto the examination chair. Ben stood nearby as you slowly spread your legs.

The doctor approached with the ultrasound equipment. "Take a deep breath", he instructed gently as he inserted the transducer into your vagina. You winced at the discomfort, and Ben hissed in response.

Again Ben's protective instincts flared up as he watched you wince at the discomfort. He shot a glare at the doctor, his tone laced with hostility. "Careful there", he growled, his voice low and threatening. "Don't fucking hurt her".

The doctor raised an eyebrow at Ben's hostility but remained focused on the task at hand. "I'm being as gentle as I can", he assured, trying to calm the situation.

You reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Ben's arm, silently urging him to relax.

The doctor adjusted the ultrasound machine, his eyes scanning the screen intently. But after a while, Ben got impatient.

Ben's jaw clenched as he watched the screen, his frustration mounting. "Do you fucking see anything or not?", he demanded.

"Just give me a moment", he said calmly, his tone professional despite Ben's impatience.

The doctor turned the monitor toward both of you and began to explain what he saw.

"Here", he pointed to the screen, "That's the gestational sac, and there", he moved the transducer slightly, "Is your baby".

You looked at the screen, feeling a surge of relief wash over you. Ben's grip on your hand tightened as he listened intently to the doctor's explanation.

"The heartbeat is a bit faint, but that's normal at this stage", the doctor continued. "Overall, everything looks good".

You could have sworn you saw one single tear in Ben’s eyes, but he quickly composed himself.

"I can't believe it", you whispered.

Ben actually smiled softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Me neither", he murmured. "But I'm fucking glad it's real".

As the doctor continued to measure and check everything, you couldn't help but feel a sense of amazement at the whole process. It was new territory for all of you, and the doctor seemed just as intrigued as you were.

After a moment of silence, the doctor spoke up again, his tone filled with a mix of curiosity and wonder. "It's definitely the baby of a supe", he remarked, his eyes flicking between you and Ben. "It seems the baby has some control over whether it's visible on the ultrasound or not, like… a shield".

Ben's lips twitched into a little smirk, a proud glint in his eyes at the thought of potentially making the first natural supe on earth.

"Given the circumstances, I'll need to see you as often as possible. We need to monitor your progress closely, considering the unique nature of this pregnancy and its potential effects on your health".

After another few tests and a long talk with the doctor, Ben accompanied you to his office, where you promptly collapsed onto the couch, feeling exhausted after the barrage of tests and examinations.

Ben leaned against his desk, flashing you a smirk as he commented, "Looks like carrying my baby is taking a toll on you, huh?". You just rolled your eyes at him.

Ben pushed himself back from his desk and handed you a bottle of water. “Here, drink up”, he said. “Do you want me to drive you home?”.

You shook your head, taking a sip of water. “No, I need to work”, you replied, rubbing your temples. But Ben wasn’t having any of it.

"No way", Ben insisted. "Not while you're carrying my baby".

You sighed, knowing it was futile to argue with him when he got like this. "Ben, I'll be fine", you said, trying to reassure him. "I have work to do, and I can't just abandon it".

But Ben's expression hardened, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive once more. "I don't fucking care", he stated firmly. "Your health and the baby's health come first. Besides.. I´m your fucking boss now, so… You are hereby granted a leave of absence".

"Alright", you conceded, sighing heavily. "But only because I'm too tired to argue with you".

Ben's lips curved into a satisfied smirk as he reached for his keys. "That's what I like to hear", he said, his tone playful yet firm. "Let's get you home and make sure you rest".

With that, he led you out of the office and drove you home.

As you kicked off your shoes and headed straight to the bathroom to get changed, your phone on the kitchen counter buzzed with a message from Frenchie, asking how you were doing. Ben glanced at the message, his brows furrowing slightly.

“You got a message from.. Serge", he called out towards the bathroom, his tone laced with a hint of jealousy, not knowing that thats Frenchies real name.

You emerged from the bathroom, wearing more comfortable clothes, and raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s just Frenchie”, you replied casually. “He’s just checking in, nothing to worry about”.

Ben's expression darkened, a trace of annoyance flashing in his eyes. "Since when do you talk to the team again?", he asked.

You rolled your eyes. "Just with Frenchie", you mumbled, trying to diffuse the tension. But Ben wasn't satisfied with that answer, his suspicion lingering in the air.

His eyes lingered on your belly, a frown forming on his face. He wasn't happy, and you could sense his unease.

"You're jealous, aren't you?", you teased, a small grin playing on your lips as you observed his reaction.

Ben scoffed, trying to downplay his feelings. "Don't be fucking ridiculous", he replied, his tone defensive. "I just… don't trust them, that's all".

You mumbled a noncommittal "huh", looking at him, which made him raise an eyebrow in response.

"What the fuck are you thinking?", Ben asked, his tone a mixture of irritation and curiosity.

You grinned and shook your head. "Oh, nothing", you mumbled, but as you tried to step out of the kitchen, Ben grabbed your wrist, his gaze intense as he looked down at you.

"What's going on in that head of yours, huh?", he asked again.

You chuckled, feeling a rush of affection for Ben despite his overbearing attitude. "Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you", you replied.

Ben was taken aback by your unexpected declaration, his grip on your wrist loosening slightly. But before he could respond, you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips. Surprised, Ben's initial hesitation melted away, and he quickly pulled you against his chest, returning the kiss with fervor. His hands found their way to your hips, holding you close as he deepened the kiss, his passion evident in every movement.

As Ben carefully lifted you onto the kitchen counter, stepping between your legs, he gazed at you intently. His hands rested on your waist, his touch gentle yet possessive, as you bit your lip, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. The intensity of his stare sent shivers down your spine, and you couldn't help but blush even more under his scrutiny.

His gaze fell on the necklace he had gifted you. "Thank you for coming after me", he murmured, his voice filled with sincerity. "For literally saving me". He meant more than just the physical act of freeing him a few weeks ago; it was a testament to your unwavering loyalty and love that had brought him back from the brink.

You bit your lip again, feeling the weight of his sincerity. His eyes held a depth of emotion that stirred something within you. That was the moment you knew, that despite your reservations and uncertainties, you couldn't deny him the chance to be a father.

"I'm going to keep the baby", you whispered softly, your voice filled with determination and a hint of vulnerability.

Ben's eyes shot up, a mixture of surprise and joy dancing within them. His lips twitched into a grin as he processed your words, a surge of happiness washing over him.

"Really?", he exclaimed. "I mean… of course you fucking are", he added hastily.

You shook your head in disbelief, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you looked up at Ben.

Ben's grin widened. "Guess that means I'm going to be a fucking father then", he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine excitement. "A real one".

Ben heaved you up onto his hips, a smirk playing on his lips as he carried you into the bedroom.

"That screams for some extra orgasms for you", he grumbled playfully, his tone teasing as he laid you down on the bed.

You leaned back, giggling slightly as you squeezed your legs together, teasing Ben. He tried to push them apart, his hands roaming over your thighs.

"I can't, I'm on my period", you joked.

Ben raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, come on now", he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. "That's not how it works".

"Well, who knows", you grinned mischievously. "Maybe our baby comes with some special perks".

"I highly doubt it", he replied. "But I guess we'll find out soon enough".

With that Ben pulled down your sweatpants and panties with a bit of roughness, parting your legs shamelessly. Your breath hitched at the sudden intensity of his actions.

"You're just full of jokes today, aren't you?", Ben grumbled.

You grinned down at him. "Always gotta keep you on your toes", you replied, but before you could say anything more, Ben silenced you by sucking harshly on your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You moaned loudly, your back arching as Ben's mouth and tongue worked their magic on your pussy. "Fuck, Ben", you cursed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continued his relentless assault. The intensity of his ministrations sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making it difficult to form coherent thoughts as you surrendered to the ecstasy.

"Ben, ease up", you gasped, pulling on his hair gently. The sensation was overwhelming, and you needed him to dial it back just a notch. Despite the pleasure coursing through you, you were starting to shake from the intensity of his ministrations.

Ben chuckled against your sensitive skin, his eyes locking with yours as he murmured, "Are you going to stop teasing me and behave like a good girl now?". His tone was playful, but there was a hint of authority in his voice, challenging you to comply.

You blushed hard under his gaze. "Maybe", you teased, unable to resist pushing his buttons a little more.

Ben's lips curved into a smirk as he bit your thigh lightly. "Careful now", he warned. "You wouldn't want to test me, would you?", his voice low and husky as he trailed kisses back up your thigh, his lips tantalizingly close to your heated core.

As he inched over your clit, you shook your head, trying to push your hips upward so you could feel his lips again, but his grip on your hipbones held you in place.

"Patience, sweetheart", he murmured, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I'll get there when I'm good and ready".

With a mischievous grin, Ben dipped his head down, teasingly grazing his lips over your sensitive skin. He reveled in the way you squirmed beneath him, your breath hitching with each tantalizing touch. "But if you keep squirming like that", he whispered huskily, "I might have to punish you for being so impatient".

You whimpered, feeling the delicious torture of his teasing. "Ben, you said you wanted to reward me", you moaned, your voice pleading. "But all you're doing is teasing the hell out of me".

Ben chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating against your sensitive skin. "I am rewarding you", he murmured huskily. "Just not in the way you expected". With that, he dipped his head back down, his tongue tracing teasing circles around your throbbing clit, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body.

As Ben's skilled tongue danced across your throbbing clit, a wave of pleasure surged through your body, making your breath hitch. His movements were deliberate, teasing, as if he relished every moment of your ecstasy. His lips pressed softly against your skin.

You grasped the sheets tightly, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of his touch. Each flick of his tongue sent electric pulses of pleasure racing through you. Your hips instinctively arched towards him.

Ben's grip on your hipbones tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pressed your pussy harder against his lips, his tongue delving deeper, seeking out every ounce of pleasure within you.

Amidst the overwhelming sensations, you found yourself murmuring, "The doctor said it's unusual to feel this nauseous within the first few weeks of a pregnancy". Your words were punctuated by soft moans, escaping your lips involuntarily as pleasure coursed through your body.

Ben's movements faltered for a moment, his eyes flickering with surprise and something deeper, something you couldn't quite decipher amidst the haze of pleasure. But then, he resumed his ministrations with even more fervor, as if determined to drown out any thoughts other than the ecstasy you shared in that moment.

"I don't care about the fucking doctor", he growled against your skin, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "All I care about is you, right here, right fucking now".

You cried out loud as Ben applied more pressure, his determination evident in every movement as he sought to immerse you fully in the intoxicating whirlwind of pleasure. But amidst the ecstasy, a nagging worry crept into your mind.

"Maybe it's not a good sign that it starts so early", you moaned.

Ben paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours as he pulled back slightly, a furrow forming on his brow. "I'm trying to give you something here", he grumbled, frustration evident in his tone as he nodded towards your wet pussy just inches in front of him.

The weight of his words hung in the air, mingling with the heady scent of desire as you gazed into his eyes, searching for reassurance amidst the storm of emotions swirling within you. But then, with a determined glint in his eyes, Ben leaned forward once more, his lips capturing yours in a fierce kiss that tried to silenced any doubts, any fears.

"Just… relax, sweetheart", Ben murmured against your lips, his words a mixture of frustration and reassurance. "We'll talk about this later".

As he pushed himself down again, his movements more urgent, the tension between you palpable. But after a while, your inability to concentrate on his work scratched at his ego, gnawing at the edges of his patience until finally, a string of curses escaped his lips.

"Fucking hell", he growled, the words laced with frustration as he fought to rein in his simmering anger. "Why won't you just… come?".

Your heart sank as you sensed the frustration and self-doubt creeping into Ben's voice. The realization that he believed it was his fault only deepened your own sense of guilt.

"I'm sorry", you whispered, the words barely audible amidst the rush of emotions swirling within you. "I'm trying, Ben, I really am".

Ben struggled to make sense of the situation.

"I know you are", he grumbled, his voice softening slightly as he reached out to stroke your cheek, his touch gentle despite the frustration that simmered just beneath the surface. "But maybe my dick would get your full attention, hmm?". Yet beneath the harshness of his tone, a flicker of concern still lingered.

As Ben stood up, shedding his supe suit with practiced ease, your eyes followed his every movement, tracing the contours of his body. Despite the frustration that had simmered between you moments before, the sight of him standing before you, already hard and ready, stirred something within you.

For Ben, there was nothing better than tasting you, hearing you moan beneath his touch.

As he approached, you sat up, your movements fluid and graceful as you pulled off your shirt, leaving you completely naked before him. The air crackled with anticipation, the tension between you palpable as you met his gaze, your eyes locking in a silent promise of mutual desire and longing.

Ben closed the distance between you, his hands reaching out to cup your face as he claimed your lips in a fierce, possessive kiss.

With a firm but gentle push, Ben guided you back onto the bed, the mattress yielding beneath your weight as you settled into the soft embrace. Quickly, he shifted his position so that you straddled him, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he urged you to look at him.

"I need you to look at me, sweetheart", he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Think about nothing but the feeling I'll give you. No more distractions".

You nodded.

As Ben lowered you slowly onto his dick, you felt your tightness stretching around him, a sensation that always elicited a quiet wince from you. Despite your body's familiarity with his size, the initial discomfort never fully subsided.

But tonight, as he filled you completely, the discomfort seemed to intensify, a sharp pang of pain shooting through you as you struggled to adjust to his size. Each inch of him felt like a stretch, a challenge to your body's limits, and though you tried to relax and surrender to the pleasure, the discomfort lingered like a stubborn shadow, refusing to be ignored.

"You okay?", Ben's voice broke through the haze of discomfort.

You nodded weakly, forcing a small smile as you tried to push aside the discomfort and focus on the pleasure that awaited you. But deep down, you knew that tonight would be different.

Your nails dug into Ben’s shoulder plates, seeking purchase as you sought to steady yourself against the waves of discomfort that threatened to overwhelm you. Beneath you, his hands remained firm on your hips.

With a sharp intake of breath, you sucked in your lip, trying to stifle the small gasp that escaped you as you slowly raised your hips up. The ache intensified as you lowered yourself back down, the discomfort blossoming into a sharp pain that made you wince audibly this time.

Ben’s frustration grew palpable, his jaw clenched tightly. He had always prided himself on his ability to please you, to bring you pleasure beyond measure, and yet tonight, it seemed that every effort only served to exacerbate your discomfort.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered, your voice trembling with a mixture of pain and guilt as you met his gaze.

Despite the frustration gnawing at his patience, Ben wasn't ready to give up just yet. He knew that you always struggled to take him, but tonight seemed to be on a whole new level. Yet, amidst the discomfort and the lingering doubts, he remained determined to find a solution, to ease your pain and bring you the pleasure you both craved.

"No need to apologize", he muttered softly, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil in your mind as he reached for a bottle of lube from his bedside table. With practiced ease, he uncapped it, the familiar scent filling the air as he coated his fingers, his movements gentle and deliberate as he prepared to ease your discomfort.

With his free hand, Ben guided you up again, his touch surprisingly gentle as he positioned you just above him. But for him, gentleness was a relative term, and you could feel the underlying urgency in his movements, a silent plea for relief from the discomfort that had plagued you both.

With a soft gasp, you felt his coated finger glide over your clit, the slickness of the lube providing a welcome relief to the ache that had lingered within you. And as he pushed two fingers inside your pussy, a slow and deliberate rhythm, you couldn't help but relax into his touch.

As Ben's fingers worked their way inside you, his eyes were glued to the sight of how they pushed into your tightness, each movement deliberate and calculated. He could feel the tension in your body gradually giving way, the resistance softening as you began to relax under his touch.

"You're doing great, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice a soft whisper of encouragement as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. "Just relax and let me take care of you".

Even though Ben felt the urge to mutter something really inappropriate, urging you to just fucking take him, he knew that this wasn't the time. He understood that you needed him to be gentle and patient today, especially with your hormones going crazy and everything related to the pregnancy feeling overwhelming.

Suppressing his own frustrations, Ben focused on the task at hand, determined to provide you with the care and attention you needed in this moment. He kept his movements slow and steady, his touch gentle yet firm as he continued to work his fingers inside you, seeking to ease the discomfort and bring you the pleasure you deserved.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?", he asked softly. "You think you're ready to take me?", he looked up at you.

With a shaky breath, you nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you met his gaze. "Yeah", you whispered, your voice filled with determination and longing. "I'm good".

"Alright", Ben muttered, his voice a low rumble of anticipation.

As you carefully guided Ben’s dick inside you, lowering yourself slowly onto him, a mixture of pleasure and relief washed over you both. Ben groaned deeply, his eyes falling shut for a few seconds as he relished the sensation of being enveloped by your warmth and tightness. A low, primal growl escaped his lips. His grip tightened uncontrollably, sending a shiver down your spine as you felt the intensity of his desire coursing through him.

Your breath hitched as his grip tightened, a mixture of pleasure and pain dancing on the edge of your senses. “Ben, be careful”, you murmured, your voice laced with a hint of urgency as you reached towards your belly, a silent reminder of the life growing within you.

His eyes snapped open, meeting yours.

Instantly, Ben loosened his grip, his hands falling down to rest gently on your thighs.

“I didn’t mean to…”.

Feeling his remorse, you took Ben’s hands in yours, guiding them back towards your hips with a reassuring squeeze. You knew how difficult it was for him to hold back, especially in moments of intense passion.

“It’s okay, Ben”, you whispered, your voice filled with understanding and love. “I trust you”.

You began to move a bit faster, eager to reciprocate the pleasure he always gave you, even though he was a lot to handle today. His dick stretched you beyond your limits.

With each movement, Ben's touch grew even gentler, his guidance subtle yet firm as he encouraged you to find your own rhythm. Together, you moved in perfect harmony.

But despite your efforts, you still struggled to find release. Frustration gnawed at the edges of your mind as you desperately tried to shift your angle, to find that elusive sweet spot that would bring you to climax. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind refused to shut off, the weight of your worries and uncertainties clinging to you like a heavy shroud.

"Fuck, look at me", Ben ordered, his voice a low growl of urgency as he grasped your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I need you here with me, baby".

His words cut through the fog of your thoughts, grounding you in the present moment. With a shaky breath, you nodded, your eyes locking with his as you surrendered yourself to his command.

As you gazed into his eyes, the intensity of his desire mirrored your own, igniting a spark of passion that burned bright between you.

Ben cupped your small body with one of his big arms around your waist, pressing you gently against him. With his other hand, he grabbed your buttock, pressing you down onto his cock, eliciting a sharp cry from your lips.

"I want you so fucking much", he murmured.

His words sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment. As he held you close, the heat of his body enveloping you.

Ben pulled you closer, his touch and words finally grounding you in the here and now.

"You take me so damn well, baby", he muttered, his voice husky with need. "I love the way you feel around me, so tight and wet".

Each word sent a jolt of pleasure through you, heightening the intensity of your connection as you surrendered yourself to the raw passion that flowed between you. With each thrust, each whispered confession of desire, you felt yourself drawing closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Finally, you let go of your thoughts, allowing yourself to get lost in Ben´s beautiful green eyes. His dick throbbed inside you, and you began to clench around him, your body responding instinctively to the pleasure coursing through you.

Ben's gaze never wavered from yours as he felt you tighten around him, a low groan escaping his lips. "That's it, baby", he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Feel how good you make me, how much I need you".

With each clench of your muscles, you felt the tension building within you, the pleasure reaching its peak as you surrendered yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

As the climax washed over you both, you felt a sense of euphoria enveloping you, a shared release of tension and desire that left you both breathless and spent. Ben held you close, his arms wrapped around you protectively as you basked in the afterglow of your shared intimacy.

As you fell against his chest, your breath heavy and your body weak against his hard chest, Ben chuckled softly and planted a kiss on the top of your head.

“Fuck Sweetheart”, he muttered with a mix of amusement and frustration. “Your orgasm was playing hard to get tonight, huh?”.

You couldn’t help but laugh weakly at his comment, feeling a sense of relief and lightheartedness wash over you despite the lingering intensity of the moment. “Sorry about that”, you replied, your voice still tinged with the remnants of pleasure.

Still, Ben couldn’t shake the feeling of frustration and inadequacy gnawing at the edges of his mind. He may have overplayed it with his lighthearted comment, but deep down, his ego was bruised.

He prided himself on his ability to please you effortlessly, to have you ready within seconds and coming within minutes. But tonight, he felt like he had fallen short of that mark, struggling to bring you the pleasure you deserved. And for him, as the man, it was one of the worst feelings imaginable.

Despite his attempts to brush it off with humor, the nagging sense of disappointment lingered. He knew you didn’t blame him, but still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had let you down.

As he held you close, his mind raced.

As you looked up at Ben, you could see the turmoil in his eyes as he wrestled with his thoughts. Cupping his face in your hands, you gifted him a small smile, hoping to ease the weight of his worries, but he didn't respond.

"Babe", you murmured softly, your voice filled with love and reassurance. "You know it was on me, right? It's just… my mind and emotions that went crazy tonight. You were as damn awesome as always".

Your words hung in the air.

Ben shook his head slightly, his gaze drifting down to your belly as if seeking solace in the promise of new life. With a sigh, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as if to shield you both from the doubts and insecurities that lingered in the air.

As he held you, his touch gentle and reassuring, you felt a sense of calm wash over you. You nestled against his naked chest, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin. His heartbeat echoed beneath your ear, a steady rhythm that lulled you into a state of tranquility.

As Ben felt your heartbeat slow down and heard the soft rhythm of your breathing, he knew that you had drifted off into a peaceful sleep on top of him. With utmost care, he gently lowered you down onto the bed, ensuring you were comfortable and tucked in beneath the blanket.

As Ben gently brushed a stray lock of hair from your face, he couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over him at the sight of you, sleeping so peacefully and undisturbed. With a soft sigh, he leaned down to press a tender kiss to your forehead before quietly slipping out of the room.

Entering the kitchen, he wasted no time in indulging in a line to take the edge off, the familiar rush momentarily distracting him from the lingering echoes of frustration and doubt. But it was his favorite whiskey that truly called to him.

With the bottle in hand, Ben made his way to the living room. Settling onto the couch, he allowed himself to sink into the soft cushions.

As he took a sip of the whiskey, its smooth warmth spreading through him.

As the evening rolled on and Ben was engrossed in a movie, he suddenly heard the unmistakable sound of vomiting from the bedroom. Pausing the movie, he quickly made his way towards you, throwing on some sweatpants along the way.

His gaze softened at the sight of you, hunched over the toilet, your face pale and drawn with discomfort. Without a word, he moved to your side, offering a comforting hand on your back as you continued to retch.

"You okay?", Ben asked softly, concern evident in his voice as he rubbed your back gently.

You groaned in response, leaning back slightly with tears in your eyes. "Ugh, this is gross", you muttered, hoping that the nausea would pass soon.

As you finished vomiting and stood up, feeling a bit dizzy, Ben moved to help you steady yourself. His arm wrapped around your waist, offering support as you made your way to the sink to brush your teeth.

While you were preoccupied with rinsing your mouth, Ben retrieved your silk robe from the bedroom. With a tender touch, he draped it around your shoulders, the smooth fabric gliding over your skin as he fastened it loosely around your body. "There, all better now, princess", he said with a smirk, kissing your shoulders. "Can't have my girl feeling under the weather, now can we?", his tone teasing but affectionate.

Rolling your eyes at his comment, you spit out the toothpaste and pulled the robe on correctly, adjusting it around your body. As you brushed over your eyes with your hand, trying to shake off the dizziness, you couldn't help but mumble under your breath.

"I feel like shit", you grumbled, the discomfort evident in your voice as you leaned against the sink for support.

Ben chuckled softly, his teasing tone belying the genuine concern in his eyes as he steadied you with a reassuring hand on your shoulder.

"Aw, come on, you're tough as nails", he teased, trying to lighten the mood. "A little nausea never hurt anyone, right? Besides, you'll be back to your badass self in no time".

As he spoke, he continued to support you, his touch gentle yet firm as he guided you back towards the bedroom.

As Ben guided you back towards the bedroom, his heart aching to see you in discomfort, he couldn't help but overplay his worry with playful comments. Deep down, he hated to see you like this, but he struggled to express it in a more straightforward manner.

You mumbled softly, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. "I shouldn't be puking this often, not this early in the pregnancy", you lamented, your voice tinged with frustration and concern.

Ben's expression softened at your words, the playful facade slipping away as he realized the gravity of the situation. "We'll figure it out", he murmured.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 29

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee

#jensen ackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x y/n #smut #billy butcher

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