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backupmelwrites · 16 days ago

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Although this is a really late reblog however I am going to reblog this anyway despite how I am supposed to reblog this on my main blog.

Plus also need to take my mind off from a family's surgery they are currently undergoing plus on a different and an irrelevant please send prayers to our ohana to make sure they have a successful surgery

Also, love this particular fan fiction all in all.

TEACHER’S PET • iamquaintrelle

# pairings: tattoo artist/single father! lewis hamilton x black oc

# warnings: this series contains cursing and the usage of the 'n' word, small town mentality, faith/religion, ebonics/AAVE and the black experience, and graphic sex scenes. if you are uncomfortable, do not read. this story is a love letter to all my pk's.

# tags: @queenshikongo3 @peyiswriting @pickingupmymercedes @donteventry-itdude @snowseasonmademe @szariahwroteit @amirawrah @beauty-gurl @jessnotwiththemess @sailurmewn @lewismcqueen @purplerain-94 @vintagesoul-01 @lostennyc @saintslewis @purplelewlew @imjustheretomanifest @mauvecherie-writes @httpsserene-main @peaceiswonderful @scorpiobleue @justagirlwho-believes13

# summary: When a tattooed British single father moves next door to a Southern Baptist preacher's daughter who happens to be his child's teacher, their worlds shouldn't collide. But as Lewis Hamilton tries to rebuild his daughters' lives in small-town Georgia while his ex battles addiction, and Sunshine Montgomery struggles between her perfect image and secret desires, their unexpected connection grows. Neither planned for attraction - he sees her as too innocent, she views him as off-limits. But Cedar Hill's gossip network, nosy neighbors, and fate itself keep pushing them together, proving that sometimes the most forbidden connections are the ones most worth risking everything for.

The Georgia heat kissed Lewis's skin differently than London's timid sun ever could. It pressed down on him with the weight of a physical presence—bold and unapologetic, seeping through his white t-shirt as he drummed calloused fingers against his truck's steering wheel. He'd shown up fifteen minutes early to school pickup, still operating on London time where being late meant disaster. Here in Cedar Hill, fifteen minutes early meant he was the first parent in the pickup line, sitting alone with nothing but his thoughts and the relentless heat for company.

Four weeks. That's how long they'd been in this predominantly Black town outside Atlanta, and Lewis still felt like a fish tossed into a new pond—familiar waters, but different currents altogether. The heat here wasn't playing games—it pressed down on your skin, slipped into your lungs, made itself at home in ways London's mild summers never could. Even the air tasted different here—heavier, sweeter somehow, carrying scents of magnolia and barbecue that never graced London streets. His F-150 stood out among the sea of SUVs and sensible sedans gradually filling the school parking lot, much like he stood out among the locals—the tattooed single father with the British accent and carefully maintained braids.

Lewis ran a hand over his neatly maintained box braids, securing a few loose strands at the nape of his neck. He'd need to get them redone soon, but he hadn't found a shop he trusted yet. That was the thing about starting over—even the simplest parts of your routine became challenges to navigate.

His phone lit up with Eleanor's name, his ex mother-in-law giving him updates on Lily. The three-year-old was with her while he got Mia settled into school. Complicated didn't begin to describe the situation, but Eleanor had been the bridge when Vanessa's life had collapsed into addiction. She'd been the one to call him six months ago, her voice tired but resolute: "The girls need stability, Lewis. You should live closer to me."

So here he was, thousands of miles from home, trying to piece together a life for his daughters in a town where everybody seemed to know everyone's business before they did themselves.

Lewis rolled his neck, trying to release the tension that had made a permanent home between his shoulder blades. More cars had begun pulling in behind his truck, mostly driven by mothers whose gazes lingered a beat too long on his ink-covered arms, nose piercings, and braided hair. He kept his face neutral, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses. The last thing he needed was entanglements with school mamas who'd want to "fix" the mysterious British single father with the troubled past.

"Mr. Hamilton? I'm Tiffany Washington, PTA president."

The voice materialized from his left, seemingly out of nowhere. Lewis turned, startled from his thoughts, to find a woman in a form-fitting dress standing beside his open window. She had appeared like an apparition, moving with the stealth of someone accustomed to commanding attention without warning.

"Afternoon," he offered, voice deliberately neutral despite registering the appreciation evident in her appraising gaze.

"Just wanted to welcome you personally to Cedar Hill Elementary." Her smile was practiced but genuine. "We're like family here. Look out for our own."

"Appreciate that."

"You just moved from London, right? That's quite the change. What brings you all the way to our little corner of Georgia?"

"Family connections," Lewis replied, the answer he'd rehearsed for precisely these moments. "My daughters' grandmother lives nearby."

"And their mother?" The question dangled between them, wrapped in feigned casualness.

"Not in the picture." His tone built a wall around further inquiry.

Tiffany nodded, respecting the boundary but leaving her interest clear in the slight tilt of her head. "Well, my number's on the class contact list if you need... anything at all."

As she walked away, Lewis exhaled slowly, shoulders relaxing from a tension he hadn't realized he was holding. Everybody wanted a piece of your story here—wanted to dig into your business and spread it around like butter on warm bread. In London, he could go weeks without speaking to another parent at Mia's old school. Here, he couldn't even sit in his car without someone wanting his life story.

More cars pulled in, more mothers glanced his way, whispering behind manicured hands. Small town life was already suffocating him with its insatiable curiosity about the mysterious newcomer with the accent and the beautiful daughters.

The school doors opened, and children came pouring out like water through a broken dam. Lewis straightened, scanning for Mia's familiar face among the crowd. He spotted her finally, hanging back slightly, purple backpack clutched to her chest like a shield. Beside her walked a woman he couldn't quite see—had to be her teacher.

Lewis stepped out of the truck, the heat immediately wrapping around him like a clingy ex. He raised a hand in Mia's direction, and her face lit up like Christmas morning.

"Daddy!" She tugged on her teacher's hand, pointing frantically in his direction.

That's when he saw her.

The woman was fine. Not just regular fine, but stop-you-in-your-tracks fine. Smooth, deep brown skin that glowed like it was lit from within. Hair pressed bone-straight despite the Georgia heat, falling just past her shoulders in a sleek curtain. Glasses perched on her nose, giving her that sexy librarian vibe that he'd always had a weakness for. Her dress was simple—a sunny yellow that hugged her curves just enough to be professional but still left a man wondering what treasures lay beneath.

"Daddy!" Mia crashed into his legs, jarring him from his inappropriate appreciation of her teacher. "I made two friends and Miss Sunny has a cat named Mabel and we're going on a field trip to see butterflies!"

Lewis scooped Mia up, pressing a kiss to her forehead while keeping one eye on the approaching vision in yellow.

"You must be Mr. Hamilton." Her voice carried a melody that London accents never mastered, honey-smooth with a hint of Southern warmth that wasn't exaggerated. "I'm Sunny Montgomery—Miss Sunny to the kiddos."

Her hand extended toward him, delicate yet confident. Lewis took it, momentarily distracted by the softness of her palm against his rougher one.

"Lewis," he replied simply, aware of the heat lingering between their skin a moment longer than necessary.

"Your girl is something special," she said, her smile revealing a slight gap between her front teeth that somehow made her even more appealing. "Smart as a whip and funny too. Had the whole class cracking up during sharing time."

"I told everyone about the time you got lost in the tube station," Mia announced proudly.

Lewis felt a smile tug at his lips despite himself. "Throwing your old man under the bus on day one, huh?"

"Don't worry," Sunny laughed, the sound warming something in Lewis's chest he thought had long gone cold. "I shared about the time I got stuck in a mall fountain trying to fish out a penny when I was in college. Gotta let the kids know teachers are human too."

There was something about her that cut through Lewis's usual wariness—a genuineness that didn't feel performed or practiced. She wasn't eyeing his tattoos with the barely disguised curiosity he'd experienced from others. Instead, she looked directly at him, her gaze steady and warm.

"Miss Sunny has the coolest classroom, Daddy. She has a whole unicorn corner and lets us use the special markers if we don't act a fool."

"That right?" Lewis found his voice, amused by his daughter's adoption of Southern phrasing after just one day.

"What can I say? Unicorns are my weakness," Sunny admitted with a laugh that did dangerous things to Lewis's resolve. "I've got a whole collection that would make a twelve-year-old jealous. My brother says I need an intervention."

"Miss Sunny, tell Daddy about the ducks!" Mia urged.

"Oh! We have this family of ducks that visits our classroom window," she explained, hands moving expressively as she spoke. "We're keeping duck journals—very official scientific research happening in second grade."

Lewis nodded, surprised by how at ease this conversation felt. "Sounds more interesting than what I remember from school."

"Daddy was tired of England," Mia announced suddenly. "That's why we moved here."

Lewis felt heat crawl up his neck. "We moved to be closer to Grandma Eleanor, remember?"

Sunny smoothly changed subjects. "Mia mentioned she has a little sister?"

"Lily. She's three."

"Three is when they hit you with those existential questions that have you questioning your whole life at 8 AM over Cheerios." Her laugh was infectious. "My nephew asked me last week why the moon follows our car but the sun doesn't."

"And what did you tell him?" Lewis found himself genuinely curious.

"That the moon's got a crush on him, obviously." She winked at Mia, who giggled in response.

Something shifted in Lewis's chest, a small but undeniable ripple across the still waters he'd maintained since arriving in Georgia. He tamped it down immediately. This was Mia's teacher—the epitome of off-limits. Beyond that, she radiated that sweet, good-girl energy that spelled nothing but complication. If he ever decided to break his self-imposed dating hiatus, it wouldn't be with someone who looked like she'd never tasted anything stronger than sweet tea and probably said "fiddlesticks" when she was mad.

No matter how fine she was, no matter how her smile made him momentarily forget why he'd walled himself off from connection, Miss Sunny Montgomery and her prim and proper ass, looking like she was trapped in Southern Hospitality, was not going to be his downfall. He needed to focus on his girls, on building something stable from the rubble Vanessa had left behind. If he was ever going to indulge in a one-night stand to scratch the itch that had been building for months, it wouldn't be with his daughter's teacher who probably said grace before eating a sandwich.

"Miss Sunny was in Florida, Daddy," Mia piped up, snapping him out of his thoughts. "She has a grandmother there, too."

"Just got back last night," Sunny explained. "Had to help my grandma after her hip surgery. My cat and I road-tripped it down. Mabel was not impressed with Florida—too many lizards for her."

"Miss Sunny, can I meet your cat sometime?" Mia asked, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Maybe. That cat thinks she's a queen, though—very particular about her admirers." Sunny's eyes flicked to Lewis's, an unreadable expression passing through them. "But she's usually a good judge of character."

Another teacher called Sunny's name from the doorway.

"Staff meeting," she explained, rolling her eyes slightly. "Budget talks. Pray for me." She turned to Mia, giving her a gentle fist bump. "See you tomorrow, Miss Mia. Don't forget to look for duck activity in your neighborhood!"

Lewis watched her walk away, unable to tear his eyes from the gentle sway of her hips beneath that yellow dress. Even the way she moved seemed musical somehow, like her body was keeping time to a beat only she could hear.

"I like her, Daddy," Mia said as he helped her into the truck.

"She seems nice," Lewis agreed, his understatement of the century.

"Can I get my hair straight like Miss Sunny's?"

"We'll see," he replied, his default answer for requests he needed to consider.

As they drove away, Lewis found himself replaying the encounter, the way Sunny had focused completely on Mia when she spoke, how her smile seemed to light up her entire face.

It wasn't until they were turning onto their street that Mia dropped the bomb.

"Miss Sunny's house was empty when we moved in, but she's our neighbor! She said she's in the blue house next door to us."

Lewis nearly swerved into a mailbox. "What?"

"Miss Sunny lives next door to us! But she's been in Florida with her grandma. She's coming home today with her cat!"

Lewis looked over at the neat blue cottage that butted up against their property—the one that had sat empty since they'd arrived, its garden mysteriously well-maintained despite the absence of an owner.

Well, damn. Of course. Because that's exactly how his luck had been running lately.

His daughter's teacher was his neighbor. The woman who would be educating his child five days a week—the woman whose curves had momentarily short-circuited his brain—lived right next door. There would be no escaping the small-town vibes of Cedar Hill after all.

"Isn't that the best thing ever, Daddy?" Mia was practically vibrating with excitement. "Miss Sunny can come over and help me with my homework and maybe she'll let us cat-sit Mabel sometime!"

"We'll see," Lewis said again, but his mind was already racing ahead to awkward morning encounters and the fence work he'd been planning to do shirtless this weekend.

Miss Sunny Montgomery. His neighbor. His daughter's teacher. And the first woman since he'd arrived in Georgia who'd made him feel something other than annoyance or indifference.

He pulled into the driveway, glancing once more at the blue cottage. A thought occurred to him suddenly—he should definitely keep his shirt on while working on the fence this afternoon.

Just in case.

************************************

The kitchen in Lewis's new place was barely half the size of his London flat's, but somehow it felt less cramped with Eleanor moving around it like she'd been there for years instead of just a few weeks. She'd shown up an hour after he and Mia had returned from school with Lily in tow and grocery bags occupying both arms.

"People in this town are nosy as h-e-l-l," Lewis muttered, carefully spelling out the word as he chopped onions at the counter. The girls were in the living room, close enough that little ears might catch adult words.

Eleanor's laugh was knowing, a low rumble that reminded him of rain against windows. "What did you expect, Lewis? It's a small town. Everyone's in everyone's business."

"I expect basic privacy," he countered, sliding the onions into the waiting skillet. "Had five different mothers try to get my life story while waiting for Mia. Acting like I'm some exotic specimen they've never seen before."

"You are a bit of a novelty," Eleanor pointed out, her Georgia accent softening the blow. "Tattooed British man with braids and two adorable little girls? You're practically catnip to the single mama crowd."

Lewis shook his head, focusing on stirring the browning onions rather than acknowledging the truth in her observation. "How was Lily today?"

"An absolute angel. We went to the park and she made friends with every child there." Eleanor smiled, the lines around her eyes deepening. "That girl's never met a stranger."

They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, the sizzle of cooking and distant sounds of the girls playing creating a domestic soundtrack Lewis was still adjusting to. There had been a time when he and Eleanor couldn't be in the same room without tension thick enough to choke on. Now, they moved around each other with the ease of two people united by love for the same children.

"How's the new job looking?" Eleanor asked, measuring rice into the cooker. "You start on Monday, right?"

"Yeah. At my mate Darius's shop in Atlanta." Lewis adjusted the heat under the skillet. "Good spot, solid clientele. Just wish it wasn't such a drive."

"You know," Eleanor began, and Lewis immediately recognized her tone—the same one she used when suggesting Lily might need a nap. "You should think about opening your own place here. Cedar Hill could use a proper tattoo shop."

Lewis snorted. "Right. Because this town is just brimming with potential clients." He gestured vaguely toward the window with his wooden spoon. "These folks are already clutching their pearls around me. Can't imagine opening a shop here—they'd probably run me out with pitchforks."

"You'd be surprised," Eleanor countered. "Not everyone in Cedar Hill is as conservative as you think. The town's changing, getting younger. And people drive all the way to Atlanta for good ink. Why not bring the business here?"

"I'll see," Lewis replied, his standard non-answer.

"Your place in London was doing well before you sold it," she pressed gently.

"That was different. Different clientele, different vibe." He added chicken to the pan, watching it sear. "Cedar Hill isn't exactly my target audience."

Eleanor looked like she wanted to argue the point further, but her expression shifted into something more hesitant. Lewis braced himself—that look always preceded a conversation about Vanessa.

"She called today," Eleanor said quietly, confirming his suspicion.

"Vanessa?"

"Yes. She asked to speak with you." Eleanor's eyes tracked Lewis's tense shoulders. "I told her you were busy with the move, but Lewis... you need to talk to her eventually."

"I will. Next week, at family therapy." Lewis kept his focus on the food, stirring with more force than necessary. "Not before."

"She's trying, Lewis. The program's been good for her."

"Six months doesn't erase two years," he replied, his voice tight. "I'm not keeping the girls from her, but I'm not rushing this either."

Eleanor sighed. "Lewis, you have to—"

A crash from the living room followed by Lily's wail and Mia's defensive "She broke it!" cut their conversation short. Lewis dropped the spoon and moved toward the commotion, grateful for the interruption despite the impending sibling dispute.

"Daddy! Lily broke my new bracelet!" Mia accused, holding up beads scattered across the carpet.

"Did not!" Lily countered through tears, lower lip trembling.

Lewis crouched between them, shifting into dad-mode and away from the weight of Eleanor's unfinished sentence. "Let's see what we're working with here..."

Dinner had gone smoothly, despite the bracelet incident. Now, with Eleanor supervising bath time and bedtime stories, Lewis had a rare moment of solitude. He stood at the sink, mechanically washing dishes and watching the sunset paint his unfamiliar backyard in shades of orange and pink.

First day of school: survived. First dinner in the new house with all of them together: successful. First day at the new job: looming.

The weight of all these firsts pressed down on Lewis's shoulders like concrete. He dried his hands, listening to the distant sounds of Eleanor reading to the girls upstairs. Quietly, he slipped out the back door and headed to his truck parked in the driveway.

The joint was where he'd left it, tucked into the small compartment under the driver's seat. Lewis hadn't smoked regularly in years, but the move had resurrected old habits. Just occasionally, just when the pressure built to unbearable levels.

He returned to the backyard, moving to the far corner beneath a large oak tree. The lighter flared in the growing darkness, illuminating his face for a brief moment before he inhaled deeply, holding the smoke in his lungs until the edge of his anxiety began to soften.

"Smoking the devil's lettuce, huh?"

Lewis nearly choked, startled by the unexpected voice. He spun around, searching for its source, and that's when he saw her—Miss Sunny Montgomery, stretched out in a lawn chair on her side of the barely-there fence separating their properties, book resting in her lap.

How long had she been there? Had she been watching him this entire time?

"What?" he managed, still recovering from the surprise.

"The devil's lettuce," she repeated, gesturing toward the joint in his hand. "You know, smoking's bad for you. Even the recreational kind."

Lewis arched an eyebrow, irritation flaring at her judgment. "You get that from Bible study or something?"

Sunny rolled her eyes, the gesture unexpectedly casual from someone who'd given off such a prim vibe earlier. "No, that particular nugget of wisdom came from a medical journal, thank you very much."

"I don't smoke much," Lewis defended, though he wasn't sure why he felt compelled to explain himself. "Just when I'm stressed."

"Well, you need a new vice then," she replied, all chipper energy as she shifted to prop a hand on her hip. The movement drew his attention to the curve of her waist, visible even in the dim evening light.

"What do you think I should do then?" Lewis asked, sarcasm dripping from each word. "Surely you have all the answers?"

"Well, of course I don't. I'm not Jesus, you know..." Sunny responded, unfazed by his tone. Lewis rolled his eyes, but she continued regardless, undeterred. "I think maybe knitting will be your speed."

"Knitting?" Lewis repeated in disbelief. Did he somehow give off knitting vibes? "Why knitting?"

Her smile widened, and damn him if it didn't stir something low in his belly. "Well, that's what you Brits like to do, yeah? Get a cuppa and knit sometimes?"

Lewis stared at her, momentarily speechless at the absurdity of the assumption. "You Southern folk sure do assume a lot."

Sunny tilted her head to the side, the gesture a bit too cute for his liking. "And you Londoners don't? I bet you think we all drink sweet tea by the gallon and say 'bless your heart' in place of actual cursing."

Before Lewis could respond, a timer dinged from inside her house, followed almost immediately by the shrill beeping of a smoke alarm. Sunny's face transformed with frustration, a colorful exclamation escaping her lips that Lewis wouldn't have expected from her proper teacher persona.

"My cobbler!" She jumped up, scurrying toward her back door. She grabbed the screen door handle but turned back toward him, her expression shifting to something almost mischievous. "Stay off that devil's lettuce, Lewis, and you have yourself a nice night, alright?"

With that, she disappeared into her house, leaving Lewis standing alone in his yard, joint still burning between his fingers.

He took one final, deep pull before crushing it out against the sole of his boot. The smoke curled out of his lungs slowly as he stared at the spot where Sunny had been sitting.

Miss Sunny Montgomery was definitely going to be a problem.

Not because she was judging his occasional indulgence—he couldn't care less about that. Not even because she was his daughter's teacher and his neighbor, though that complicated things considerably.

No, she was going to be a problem because for a brief moment, when she'd cursed at her burning dessert, Lewis had glimpsed something beneath the sweet, proper façade. Something real. Something that suggested there might be more to Miss Sunny Montgomery than her unicorn collection and Southern manners.

And that, more than anything else, was dangerous.

Lewis pocketed the remains of his joint and headed back inside, where Eleanor was coming down the stairs.

"Girls are almost asleep," she reported. "Just need their goodnight kiss from Daddy."

Lewis nodded, trying to shake the lingering image of Sunny's smile from his mind. "Thanks for helping today. With everything."

Eleanor patted his arm, her expression knowing. "You're doing fine, Lewis. Cedar Hill will grow on you. You'll see."

He didn't argue, but as he climbed the stairs toward his daughters' bedrooms, Lewis found himself wondering if Eleanor was right. Maybe Cedar Hill would grow on him.

Or maybe it would just complicate his life in ways he wasn't prepared for.

Sunshine Grace Montgomery smoothed down the front of her pale yellow dress—a carefully chosen ensemble that managed to be both modest enough for her father's pulpit and stylish enough to satisfy her own taste. The diamond cross necklace her parents had given her for her twenty-fifth birthday glinted at her throat, catching the light streaming through the stained glass windows of New Hope Baptist Church.

The organist transitioned into the final hymn, and Sunny sang along from muscle memory, her mind wandering despite her best efforts to stay focused on worship. Bishop Ezekiel Montgomery's deep voice boomed through the sanctuary, leading the congregation with the confidence of a man who'd been preaching for nearly thirty years in Cedar Hill.

Growing up as the preacher's daughter had been both a blessing and a burden. Sunshine Grace—named with such deliberate intention that she sometimes felt the weight of it pressing into her shoulders—had never been allowed to be anything less than exemplary. While other kids had the luxury of misbehaving, of testing boundaries, Sunny had been raised to be the perfect Christian daughter: obedient, accomplished, and perpetually pleasant.

"Sister Montgomery's Bible study for young ladies will meet Wednesday at six," her father announced from the pulpit during the weekly announcements. "And remember, our Sunshine leads the children's choir practice Tuesday afternoon."

Her mother, First Lady Vivian Montgomery, smiled proudly from her front-row seat, the picture of Southern elegance in her ivory suit and matching hat. From childhood, Sunny had been groomed to follow in those perfectly poised footsteps—piano lessons, cotillion classes, debutante balls. The quintessential Southern belle training, designed to make her the perfect wife for some lucky Christian man—preferably a minister or at least a deacon.

What most people in the congregation didn't know was how much Sunny had struggled with that image growing up. Behind her glasses and braces, she'd been an awkward, bookish girl who preferred the school library to the social events her mother constantly pushed her toward. The debutante ball had been particularly traumatic—her braces catching on her lip during the formal introduction, her glasses slipping down her nose as she curtsied to Cedar Hill's finest families.

Thank the Lord those days were behind her. Somewhere around age twenty-two, Sunny had, as her Aunt Patrice liked to say, "grown into her face." The braces came off, revealing a charming gap between her front teeth that somehow enhanced rather than detracted from her smile. She'd traded her thick glasses for more stylish frames. The baby fat melted away, revealing cheekbones that now drew compliments instead of cruel teenage nicknames.

But inside, part of her would always be that nerdy teen who blasted Beyoncé and Paramore in her bedroom when her parents weren't home, dancing in front of her mirror and dreaming of a life beyond Cedar Hill's watchful eyes.

"There's my favorite educator," her brother Steele's voice broke through her thoughts as the service ended. Steele Gideon Montgomery wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his imposing six-foot-four frame making her feel tiny despite her own respectable five-foot-seven.

"Auntie Sunny!" Sterling, her five-year-old nephew, crashed into her legs, his little arms wrapping around her knees. His glasses, similar to her own, were slightly askew on his cherubic face.

"Hey, little man," Sunny said, bending down to adjust his frames. "How's my favorite buddy doing?"

"Good! I drew you a picture at Sunday School. It's a unicorn wearing glasses like us!"

Brianna, Steele's wife, approached with practiced poise, her designer church outfit probably costing more than Sunny's monthly teacher salary. "Sterling, don't wrinkle Aunt Sunny's dress, baby."

Sunny forced a smile. Brianna Jones-Montgomery had been Cedar Hill High's queen bee—homecoming queen, cheer captain, and winner of the Miss Cedar Hill pageant three years running. How she'd ended up married to Sunny's bookish, serious brother was still something of a mystery, though Steele's fast-track career as the youngest partner at Atlanta's prestigious Blackwell & Hammond law firm probably had something to do with it.

"The dress is fine," Sunny assured her sister-in-law, winking at Sterling. "Unicorn pictures are more important than unwrinkled fabric any day."

"If you say so," Brianna replied with a tight smile. "Though if you ever want to borrow something from my closet for a date, just let me know. I've got some dresses that would really bring out your...features."

The implication that Sunny's wardrobe needed help for date-attraction purposes wasn't lost on her, but she let it slide. Brianna was... well, Brianna. And Sunny only tolerated her because Sterling was the light of her life, and because beneath Brianna's polished exterior, there was occasionally a glimpse of something genuine—usually when she thought no one was looking.

"Speaking of dates," Steele interjected, clearly trying to change the subject, "have you met Eleanor Johnson's former son-in-law yet? He moved in next door to you, right?"

Sunny felt heat rise to her cheeks before she could control it. "Mr. Hamilton? Yes, his daughter Mia is in my class."

"Mr. Hamilton?" her cousin Tajanae echoed, appearing as if summoned by the mention of an eligible bachelor. "Girl, you mean fine-ass Lewis with those tattoos and that accent? That man is too gorgeous to be addressed so formally."

"Tajanae!" Sunny hissed, glancing around to make sure her father wasn't within earshot. "He's my student's father and my neighbor. And we're in church."

"Church is exactly where we need to be discussing him, because that man is a blessing," Tajanae insisted, linking her arm through Sunny's and pulling her toward the fellowship hall. "Did you know every single woman in Cedar Hill under sixty—and some over—have already set their sights on him? Even Auntie Pat was asking if he comes to church."

"Auntie Patrice? She has to be twice his age!"

"Age ain't nothing but a number when a man looks like that," Tajanae laughed. "So spill. What's he like up close?"

Sunny hesitated, the memory of catching Lewis smoking in his backyard Friday night flashing through her mind. The way the fading light had highlighted the strong line of his jaw, how his eyes had widened in surprise at her voice. How something in her stomach had fluttered when he'd looked directly at her, even through his irritation at being caught.

"He's... intense," she settled on. "Very private. Protective of his daughters."

"What's the story with him and Vanessa anyway?" Tajanae pressed. "All I know is she disappeared again, which isn't exactly surprising. That girl never could stay put."

Sunny vaguely remembered Vanessa Johnson from middle school—a wild, beautiful girl with a permanent rebellious streak. They'd never been friends; by eighth grade, Vanessa was already cutting class and running with the high school crowd while Sunny was organizing the library's annual book fair.

"I don't know details," Sunny admitted. "I barely remember her. She left right after high school graduation, didn't she?"

"Before the caps even hit the ground," Tajanae confirmed. "Some say she ran off with that musician she was dating. Others say she just couldn't handle small-town life anymore. Either way, she left those babies with him, and apparently Eleanor came to help them when things went south."

"Taj, we shouldn't be gossiping," Sunny said, though curiosity burned inside her.

"It's not gossip if it's common knowledge," Tajanae waved dismissively. "Anyway, word is Vanessa's in rehab somewhere. Eleanor doesn't talk about it, but my mama's friend from the beauty shop says she overheard Eleanor telling someone Vanessa is finally getting help."

Sunny thought about Mia's solemn little face on her first day of school, the way she'd clung to Lewis's hand like it was her lifeline. Suddenly, the image of Lewis smoking in his yard took on a different dimension—not just a bad habit but perhaps a moment of stress relief for a man carrying more weight than she'd realized.

"He's just trying to give those girls some stability," Sunny said firmly. "And the last thing he needs is every single woman in Cedar Hill circling like vultures."

Tajanae raised an eyebrow. "Including you?"

"I'm his daughter's teacher, Taj!"

"Mmhmm. And that blush on your cheeks is just from the Georgia heat, I suppose?"

Before Sunny could protest further, her mother appeared, gesturing toward a group of church elders. "Sunshine, come say hello to Deacon Williams. His son just finished his residency and moved back to town."

Sunny suppressed a sigh. Another Sunday, another eligible bachelor her mother wanted to parade before her. At twenty-eight, Sunshine Grace Montgomery was dangerously close to "spinster" territory by Cedar Hill standards, a fact her mother never let her forget.

"Coming, Mama," she replied, ignoring Tajanae's knowing smirk.

As she dutifully made her way toward another awkward setup, Sunny couldn't help but wonder what Lewis Hamilton was doing at this exact moment. Probably enjoying a peaceful Sunday without church politics and parental expectations.

Her friend Becca's voice echoed in her head: "Girl, you're too pretty to be sitting in your house with that cat. Go have some fun!"

But Sunny had long ago resigned herself to the fact that the type of man she dreamed about—complex, passionate, challenging—existed only in the pages of her beloved Natasha Bishop and Kimberly Brown novels. Her collection of romance books was embarrassingly extensive, each one dog-eared at her favorite scenes.

Real men—especially the "good Christian men" her mother pushed toward her—never measured up to those fictional heroes. And the likelihood of finding her own brooding, complicated, tender-hearted hero seemed about as probable as scientists perfecting an AI bot capable of true love.

Still, as she plastered on her Sunday smile and prepared to meet yet another respectable young man with solid career prospects, Sunny couldn't quite banish the memory of Lewis's intense gaze or the way his deep voice sent unexpected shivers down her spine, even when he was being sarcastic.

And whether that made her a terrible Christian, an unprofessional teacher, or just a woman who'd read too many romance novels remained to be seen.

*******************************************************

Sunny kicked off her heels the moment she crossed her threshold, sighing as her bare feet made contact with the cool hardwood floors of her cottage. Sunday services always stretched her social batteries to their limits—all those expectations, all those eyes watching the preacher's daughter for any sign of imperfection.

"Mabel, I'm home," she called out, and right on cue, her tortoiseshell cat sauntered from the bedroom, stretching languidly before twining between Sunny's ankles. "At least you don't care if my dress matches my shoes, hmm?"

She scooped up the cat, pressing her face into Mabel's soft fur and inhaling the comforting, familiar scent. Through the kitchen window, she could see Lewis's house next door, surprisingly quiet for a Sunday afternoon. No sign of the girls playing in the yard, no movement behind the curtains. Maybe they'd gone somewhere with Eleanor.

"Miss Montgomery! Beautiful service today."

Sunny groaned internally before turning toward her fence line with a practiced smile. Gladys Palmer, seventy-something busybody extraordinaire, stood on the sidewalk with her caramel-colored cockapoo, Precious, tucked under one arm.

"Thank you, Mrs. Palmer. It's always nice to see you in the congregation." Sunny put Mabel down, then moved out to her porch, knowing there was no escaping the conversation now that Gladys had locked on.

"I see your new neighbor isn't much for Sunday worship," Gladys observed, her tone making it clear this was a moral failing of the highest order.

"Mr. Hamilton just moved here," Sunny defended, surprising herself with the quickness of her response. "I'm sure he's still settling in."

"Hmm." Gladys sniffed, clearly unconvinced. "Did you know he's covered in tattoos? Marjorie at the salon says Eleanor told her he used to run some kind of tattoo parlor in London. Can you imagine? A man like that raising little girls?"

"I've met Mr. Hamilton. He seems like a devoted father," Sunny replied, keeping her tone pleasant while silently counting to ten.

"Well, a child needs a mother's influence. Those poor little lambs." Gladys clicked her tongue. "And living right next door to you. I hope he doesn't bring the wrong element around. Men like that usually have... questionable associates."

Sunny bit her tongue against the urge to point out that judging people based on appearances was specifically cautioned against in this morning's sermon. Instead, she glanced at her watch. "I should get inside—lesson plans to finish before tomorrow. You have a blessed evening, Mrs. Palmer."

Once safely back inside, Sunny leaned against her closed door and exhaled. Cedar Hill's gossip network operated with ruthless efficiency. Poor Lewis hadn't been in town a month, and already he was the subject of church whispers and salon speculation.

"People are too nosy for their own good, Mabel," she muttered, heading toward her bathroom. "A man can't even move to a new town without everyone all up in his business."

Sunny cranked her shower as hot as she could stand it, wrapped her silk press in a scarf and bonnet, and let the water wash away the remnants of church politics and social appearances. She had more pressing concerns than Lewis Hamilton's tattoos or why his house was quiet on a Sunday afternoon. Tomorrow was the start of their butterfly unit, and she still needed to finish printing worksheets and organizing materials.

An hour later, dressed in her comfiest leggings and an oversized Spelman College sweatshirt, Sunny sat at her kitchen table surrounded by lesson plans. Beyoncé's "Cowboy Carter" album played from her bluetooth speaker, providing the perfect soundtrack to her Sunday evening routine.

"Texas Hold 'Em" had her dancing in her seat as she collated worksheets, belting out the chorus despite Mabel's judgmental stare from atop the refrigerator. Sunny had been obsessed with the album since its release, analyzing every track, every transition, every brilliant artistic choice.

"I'm seeing Beyoncé this year, Mabel," she announced, as if making the declaration would somehow manifest the tickets. "No more fooling around. The second those tickets drop, I'm on it. No more watching Instagram stories of other people at the Renaissance tour while I'm sitting at home grading spelling tests."

Her phone buzzed, Becca's name flashing on the screen. Sunny answered while stapling butterfly lifecycle packets.

"Please tell me you're calling to say you found an incredible deal on Beyoncé tickets," she greeted.

"Better," Becca replied, the smile evident in her voice. "How soon can you be ready?"

Sunny frowned. "Ready for what?"

"90s R&B night at The Velvet Lounge. They've got a DJ spinning all the classics—SWV, TLC, Jodeci, all of it."

"Becca Jean, it's 7 PM on a Sunday night," Sunny protested, looking at her comfortable setup. "I'm about to tuck in and watch my Real Housewives, not sit in some dirty, dusty, funky-ass smelling lounge. Don't you know I got a job to do tomorrow?"

Silence stretched across the line for a few moments.

"I'll pick you up in 45 minutes," Becca said finally, and then the line went dead.

Sunny pulled the phone from her ear, staring at it in disbelief. "Did she just hang up on me? The audacity!"

Mabel jumped up onto the table, stepping delicately around stacks of butterfly worksheets to headbutt Sunny's arm.

"Your Auntie Becca must be smoking that Snow White if she thinks I'm going out tonight, right baby?" Sunny scratched behind Mabel's ears, earning a contented purr. "We want to watch the reunion show tonight. We want to see who Kenya curses out, yeah?"

She lifted Mabel to her face, placing a kiss between the cat's ears. "And we have nothing to wear anyway... we have to do laundry."

Forty-five minutes later, however, Sunny was stuffed into a dress that was decidedly not meant for a second-grade teacher—a strappy black number that Becca had left at her house after some previous girls' night out. It was too tight across her hips and definitely showed more cleavage than anything in her regular wardrobe, but Becca had been relentless.

"Girl, if you don't put it on, I will wrestle you into it myself," she'd threatened, already dressed to kill in a red jumpsuit that hugged every curve of her athletic frame.

So instead of being curled up on her couch watching Real Housewives with Mabel as planned, Sunny found herself squished into a booth at The Velvet Lounge—which, contrary to its name, was exactly the kind of place she'd described: slightly dusty, dimly lit, and just a touch too warm. In all honesty, it didn't actually smell bad, but the words still stood in her mind.

"I still don't understand why I'm here," Sunny grumbled, wedged between Becca and their friend Ayana, who'd been picked up on the way.

"Because you need to live a little," Ayana replied, signaling the waitress for another round. "All you do is teach, go to church, and read those dirty books you think nobody knows about."

Sunny gasped. "My books are not dirty! They're romance novels. Literature."

"Mmm-hmm," Becca smirked. "That's why you keep them hidden behind the Jane Austen collection on your bookshelf."

The waitress arrived with two fresh cocktails for Becca and Ayana, plus another virgin strawberry daiquiri for Sunny. No matter how much her friends tried, Sunny rarely drank, especially on a school night. One glass of wine at Christmas was about her limit.

"Use your pretty privilege, girl," Becca urged as a group of men at the bar kept glancing their way. "We could be drinking for free all night."

"I don't want to drink for free. I don't want to drink at all," Sunny countered, crossing her legs in the too-short dress, trying to maintain some semblance of modesty. "And I don't have 'pretty privilege.'"

"Please," Ayana rolled her eyes. "With those eyes and that smile? You've had it since you lost the braces, you just refuse to use it."

Before Sunny could protest further, the DJ switched to SWV's "Weak," and both her friends squealed in delight.

"That's our song!" Becca grabbed Ayana's hand. "We're dancing. You coming?"

"I'll guard the drinks," Sunny offered, secretly relieved for a moment alone.

As her friends disappeared into the crowd of swaying bodies, Sunny sighed and reached into her purse, pulling out her phone. Within seconds, she was lost in her Kindle app, picking up exactly where she'd left off in her latest Natasha Bishop novel—right at the part where the brooding hero was about to confess his feelings to the unsuspecting heroine.

"Damn, Miss Sunny, is that really you?"

The voice yanked her from the fictional world, and Sunny looked up to find Joel Washington leering down at her. She vaguely remembered him from high school—he'd been a couple years ahead of her, known more for his skills on the football field than in the classroom.

"Hello, Joel," she replied politely, slipping her phone back into her purse.

"Goddamn, Miss Sunny." He slid into the booth uninvited, his eyes traveling down her body in a way that made her skin crawl. "You grew up real nice. Wouldn't have recognized you if Tyrell didn't point you out."

"Thank you," she said stiffly, looking around for Becca and Ayana, who had disappeared into the thick of the dance floor.

"So what's the preacher's daughter doing in a place like this on a Sunday night?" Joel asked, licking his lips in what he clearly thought was a seductive manner. "Looking for a little sin to balance out all that salvation?"

Sunny forced a tight smile. "Just out with friends. Speaking of which, they should be back any minute."

"We should catch up," Marcus continued, either missing or ignoring her discomfort. "Maybe get out of here, go somewhere quieter. I'd love to hear what you've been up to since high school."

"Oh, I don't think—"

"Come on, now." He leaned closer, the scent of alcohol heavy on his breath. "I bet underneath all that Sunday school sweetness, you've got a wild side just waiting to come out."

Sunny clutched her metaphorical pearls, genuinely shocked at his boldness. "I beg your finest pardon?"

Joel laughed like she'd said something charming. "See? That's what I'm talking about. All proper and shit. Makes a man wonder what it would take to make you lose control."

"I think I'll just wait for my friends," Sunny said firmly, inching away from him in the booth.

"They looked like they were having a good time. Probably won't be back for a while." His hand moved toward her knee. "Let's get out of here. I've got a bottle of Henny in the car."

"She wants to be left alone."

The deep voice cut through the music, and both Sunny and Joel looked up to find Lewis standing beside their table, his expression unreadable but his posture tense. He was dressed simply in dark jeans and a fitted black t-shirt that showcased the tattoos running down both arms, a Cuban link chain glinting at his neck.

Joel's eyes narrowed. "This ain't your business, man."

"I'm making it my business," Lewis replied, his London accent more pronounced, giving his words a dangerous edge.

A tense silence stretched between the two men while Sunny sat frozen, watching the standoff with wide eyes.

Finally, Joel stood, shaking his head. "Whatever. She ain't that fine anyway, man."

He stalked off toward the bar, and Sunny let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Thank you," she said, genuinely relieved.

"No problem." Lewis nodded, already turning to leave.

"Lewis," she called, stopping him. He turned back, one eyebrow raised in question, and suddenly words failed her for the briefest second. "Maybe you should... stay? The place seems to be full of weirdos tonight."

A chuckle escaped him, low and rich. "So I'm the lesser of two evils?"

"Something like that," she admitted with a small smile.

To her surprise, he slid into the booth across from her, his long legs extending into her space as he settled back with casual confidence. That man-spread thing that would have been annoying from someone else somehow suited him perfectly—like he was claiming just enough space without being intrusive.

Up close, she caught the scent of his cologne—something expensive and subtle that made her want to lean closer. His tattoos continued up his neck, disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt, and the Cuban link chain rested against his skin in a way that was undeniably sexy.

"See something interesting?" he asked, catching her staring.

Sunny felt heat flood her cheeks. "You have a lot of tattoos."

Another chuckle, the sound warming something in her chest. "That an observation or a complaint?"

"Just a fact," she replied. "How many do you have?"

"Guess," he challenged, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

Sunny paused, taking in what she could see on his arms and neck. "Twenty-five?"

"Not even close."

"Thirty?"

"Higher."

"Thirty-five?"

Lewis shook his head. "Forty. To match my age."

Sunny couldn't hide her surprise. "You're forty?"

He laughed outright at that, the sound genuine and surprisingly light. "Damn, do I look older?"

"No," she rushed to clarify. "I just thought you were in your thirties, at least."

Lewis shrugged, stretching his legs out even more. "Nah... I'm forty. Had kids 'late'," he said, making air quotes with his fingers.

"Is that late?" Sunny asked. "Seems like the right time to me. You were established, knew who you were."

Something flashed in his eyes—surprise, maybe appreciation. "Most people around here seem to think if you don't have kids by twenty-five, you're behind schedule."

"Most people around here need to mind their business," Sunny replied before she could stop herself.

Lewis's smile widened. "Miss Sunny Montgomery, talking back? What would the church ladies say?"

"They'd say I need Jesus," she admitted with a laugh. "But they say that anyway."

Their conversation flowed with surprising ease after that, touching on Cedar Hill's gossip network, their shared annoyance with nosy neighbors, and eventually circling to how Lewis was adjusting to small-town life.

"It's different," he admitted. "In London, nobody gave a damn who you were or what you did. Here, I can't take out the trash without someone offering me a casserole or asking about my 'story.'"

"Cedar Hill specializes in two things: unsolicited food and unsolicited opinions," Sunny agreed.

"Your daddy's church seems to be the center of it all," Lewis observed, watching her reaction carefully.

Sunny sighed. "It is... but it's not all bad. When people need help, the church is there. When Mr. Reed needed support after his operation, the church ladies organized a meal train and homecare rotation."

Lewis nodded thoughtfully. "I've noticed that. The same people who whisper about my tattoos also mowed my lawn when Lily had that bug last week."

"That's Cedar Hill in a nutshell. They'll talk about you behind your back, but they'll be the first ones on your doorstep when you need them."

Before Lewis could respond, Becca and Ayana materialized at the table, slightly breathless from dancing. Their eyes widened in tandem at the sight of Lewis sitting across from Sunny.

"Well, hello there," Becca drawled, her gaze sweeping appreciatively over Lewis.

"I should go," Lewis said, standing smoothly. "Looks like your backup has arrived."

"To protect me from the weirdos?" Sunny asked with a smile, referencing their earlier exchange.

"Something like that." His eyes met hers briefly, something unreadable passing between them. "See you tomorrow morning, Miss Sunny."

He nodded politely to Becca and Ayana before walking away, navigating through the crowded lounge with effortless confidence.

The moment he was out of earshot, both women pounced.

"What in the name of all that is holy was that?" Becca demanded, sliding into the spot Lewis had vacated. "Why was fine-ass Lewis Hamilton sitting at our table looking at you like you're his next meal?"

"It wasn't like that," Sunny protested, though her heated cheeks betrayed her. "Joel Washington was being creepy, and Lewis stepped in. I just thanked him."

"With your eyes, maybe," Ayana teased. "Girl, I could feel the tension from across the room."

"He's Mia's father," Sunny said weakly. "My student. My neighbor. It's not—"

"I'll call that man daddy any day of the week," Becca interrupted, fanning herself dramatically. "Did you see those arms? Those tattoos? That chain? Lord have mercy."

"Becca!" Sunny hissed, scandalized despite herself.

"What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking," Becca grinned, exchanging a high-five with Ayana. "Girl, that man is fione, okay? And he was definitely checking you out when you weren't looking."

"You're delusional," Sunny insisted, but a small, forbidden thrill ran through her at the thought.

As her friends continued their good-natured teasing, Sunny's mind kept drifting back to the easy conversation, the way Lewis's eyes had crinkled when he laughed, how his voice had deepened when he stood up to Joel. For a man who seemed so intent on maintaining distance from everyone in Cedar Hill, he'd chosen to stay and talk with her, to share pieces of himself beyond the taciturn facade he presented to the rest of the town.

It probably meant nothing. A moment of connection between two people who both felt like outsiders in their own ways—him as the newcomer with his tattoos and accent, her as the preacher's daughter who'd never quite fit the role she was born into.

But as they finally headed home, Sunny couldn't help but wonder what it might mean that on a night she should have been home with her cat and her reality shows, she'd instead found herself sharing a booth with the last man in Cedar Hill she should be interested in—and enjoying every second of it.

.......tbd

#lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamiton #lewis hamilton fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 x oc #lewis hamilton au #reblogged #mel reblogs #mel reblog #paula reblogs #paula reblog #fanfic rec

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backupmelwrites · 30 days ago

Text

Just an update on a heads-up info about why I placed this under the 'Logan Sargeant x reader' and 'Logan Sargeant imagine' tags . . .

Also, this particular Fan fiction is not about Logan Sargeant but there are mentions of Logan as I did have to put it under the 'Logan Sargeant imagines' since there are mentions of him in this particular fan fiction of mine while this particular fan fiction put it's main focus on you (The reader that is!) As Logan's actual GF on she does spend her mornings which is the reason why I did this particular fan fiction as this is a fan fiction where we follow her as she does her typical daily morning routines is in her very own daily life that she usually does go through every single day.

I hope those information can give you a clearer picture on why I did place this under a 'LS2 x wahine reader' Fan fiction since this is where I did mentioned Logan a few times in that particular fan fiction of mine while we get to follow her on her typical morning routine which she does it in her very own life on a daily basis.

A typical morning of LS2's girlfriend-An LS2 and a wahine reader fan fiction

Author's note: Okay, so this is a 'palette cleanser' from the last writing project I did and also, the great news is that Liatu is now returning back with the L.A sparks team but this time she will be an 'emergency' player for the team while giving the injured players whom I had mentioned it on my back-up T*mblr blog where I normally share the posts based on my own personal thoughts I do have it from my mind.

Plus when it comes to titles; unfortunately: I am usually the worst when it comes to choosing my titles for my fan fictions; sorry.

Also congrats to Liatu and please send her your unconditional aloha spirit while she is playing at the WNBA with the L.A Sparks which is the same team where they did picked her as the 28th overall draft pick!

Plus although this doesn't have Logan in it but it has you as his GF in it.

Disclaimers: All of events and settings in this particular fan fiction are entirely fictional therefore please don't take this too seriously as if this happens in real life.

Plus pictures aren't mine and I don't own them.

Credits goes to Liatu king, and everyone else whom they did worked their magic behind the scenes both in real life and online as well.

*OMH- Oh my Honolulu for short

Plus I love Liatu's new hairstyle half tied up dreadlock on the game on L.A Sparks vs Phoenix Mercury.

While you are fast fallen asleep instantly from how you have reached home last night from a co-worker whom they worked with you at the Halekulani Boutique Souvenir Store and helped you with job training; then this is where you noticed that Logan had fallen asleep in his own bedroom; meanwhile you on the other hand did managed to wrote in your diary all night long on how you did had to apply for various jobs where you find it in the areas of Honolulu and Waikiki and you did instantly ended up falling asleep just as when you finished the last update of the last diary entry you did it last night just as when you did fallen asleep so instantly that you did ended up forgetting to do your usual bedtime routine followed by closing your diary, locking it with the small lock with is made for the diary and place it elsewhere however because you are now working at a brand new job where you now have to truthfully work for more than 10 hours long from opening hours of the Souvenir Store to the closing hours of the store; when they brought you back to your apartment building; you noticed how Logan returned back to the apartment where the both of you are staying together much earlier than how you had returned there only in the later hours then he ended up going to steep earlier in this bedroom than how you returned to your bedroom where you fell asleep at a later hour after you returned back from work despite you weren't so sure what time the digital clock you had on your bedside table had said while you fallen asleep on your fluffy, bright and soft blanket which it is a hot pink blanket with little bright magenta hibiscus flowers and bright tangy orange hibiscus flowers all over the blanket and on the under-layer of the blanket; it is a bright orange which matches the little bright tangy orange hibiscus flowers all over the blanket but it does have little bright magenta hibiscus flowers all over the under-layer part of the blanket.

When you did fast fallen asleep both instantly and instantly from last night; you didn't heard the sound of Logan heading off to work at the Twin Fins Hotel where he works there as a surf instructor while his second job at Rainbow Drive In is where he works as a waiter to definitely make sure he can cover the expanses where the both of you needed to cover it in your very own every day lives.

All you did was to fell asleep until when you woke up unexpectedly to the bright April sunrise where it peek through the both the layers of the transparent windows and also the translucent day curtains where you forgot to pull it together aside except you did truthfully loved how it does peeks and shines from the window to the window seat of your apartment where you call it the 'reading and creative nook' as this is a seating spot where you usually either sit there to either write in your own diary about today's update, you read a physical copy of your favorite book or otherwise you might be there with your own sketchbook where you are either truthfully sketching; doing the out-lining of an art or the coloring process of a completed artwork otherwise you may be doing the coloring at an adult coloring book at the creative & reading nook where usually sit there whenever you are at your very own apartment.

While you did woken up to bright sun rays of the April morning sunrise where you did squint for a bit before you finally woken up with both a stretch and also a yawn where you did opened your mouth wide before you got out of bed. Meanwhile Coco who is now both of your pet rescued dog got up too from her resting spot where she usually rests at the edge of the sofa on the floor of the apartment's living room; you did went up and petted her; asking her "Hey girly pop, did you got breakfast yet from Logan?" You ask her while she rolled on her back to reveal her stomach to get the belly rubs from you as you continued rubbing on her stomach.

She panted happily while you rubbed her stomach until when you finished where she rolls back to the original upright position where she barks as in a 'Yes, ma'am' response and meanwhile you head into the bathroom where it is located at your bedroom to prepare for the day by brushing your teeth and washing your face.

After preparing for the day; you went to take a quick morning shower and since you have a day where they let you take over the afternoon shift; you decided to take the time to change into an unexpected outfit where you only wear your most comfortable pair of sports bra; a pair of clean inner bottom as well as a pair of clean surf shorts where you decided to do your laundry after you did taken a quick morning hot shower.

As you prepare the laundry, Coco follows you and your footsteps everywhere you go around the apartment; she couldn't help but stare at you with her head being titled to one side while looking as when she is truthfully smiling at you.

After collecting the used laundry by tossing it into the laundry basket; you went to the bathroom where you did washed your hands from doing the laundry duty; subsequently: you did make a home made breakfast which you did made a home-made sardine sandwich where you did opened a can of fresh sardines dipped in Olive Oil from the fish can onto a clean saucer plate to heat it up at the microwave oven while you prepare the fresh loaf of bread which Logan got it for you at Dean and Deluca bakery just yesterday and the sauces for the sandwich.

Making your own hot cup of coffee; she follows you in the kitchen where you noticed how she place a paw on your foot while you prepare the Lappert's Thunder Chicken coffee you are supposed to make it as your own version of a hot cup of latte to drink it in the morning.

"You noticed about something, don't you; sweetie?" You ask her while opens her mouth excitedly; perhaps maybe it is the sports bra you are currently wearing inside the apartment as perhaps you did noticed how Coco got excited about something.

Maybe it is the home made sardine sandwich you are currently making she got excited about or perhaps maybe it has something to do with how you are now currently wearing a sports bra and a pair of surf shorts as an actual whole outfit of it's own? Either way, it is quite a mystery.

Preparing the hot water on the clean electric kettle where you did loved how the bright blue lights from the electric kettle lights up whenever it is currently boiling the water inside it and while preparing a fresh batch of water to the electric kettle; you went ahead to check your plate of sardines where it has finally warmed up in about a minute or so; then you prepare the bread and sauce for the sandwich: Coco quietly went to the living room and go towards the toy basket where she take a squeaky toy as she chews on it to make the squeak sound as you did giggled by the sound of it while waiting patiently for the water to be boiled and the saucer plate of sardines to be truthfully ready.

Once the microwave oven beeps at you to let you know the sardines are truthfully ready be taken out; you get a pair of the Heather Brown special edition oven mitten she had designed it as a collaboration to open the oven door; take out the hot plate of hot sardines plus closing it at the same time: the water had became boiled just as when the electric kettle had shut off it's bright blue lights from it.

You took a clean metal fork to place the sardines onto a piece of bread where you did applied the sauce onto it earlier; placed another slice of bread on top of it and you take the plate of your home made sardine sandwich to the dining room table where although Coco can smell the aroma of the the hand-made sardine sandwich where you made it earlier for breakfast but when you found out Coco got really excited about the food you take steps to back her off from the dining room area where she backed off from you and continues playing with the squeaky toy where she happily put her focus on it while you returned back to your breakfast where you went to the kitchen; bring the plate of the home made sardine sandwich from the kitchen counter to the dining table followed by making a hot cup of your signature hot home made latte you made in addition to a pair of cutlery on a fork and a knife where you can pick up any remains of the hot sardines dropped onto the plate where it works as a base for the remaining pieces of the sardine fish you had heated it up minutes ago plus it also become a base for the bread crumbs where it may have came from the home made sardine sandwich you made it from earlier this morning.

Before you took your first bite of your breakfast; you went to wash your hands at the bathroom of your bedroom before returning back to the living room and you start taking your breakfast and Coco whom she started walking towards your feet; you ignored her while continuing on taking your own breakfast on the home made sardine sandwich you had made it earlier while she (Coco) silently walks away from your ankles heading towards the living room where she return back to playing with the squeaky toy she had played it earlier.

After finishing breakfast; you went to the kitchen to wash the dishes and while washing the dishes; you stare at the living room where it does have a beautiful view of the endless straight horizon of the clear Pacific Ocean which made you clearly think about Logan's pair of seldom but visible pair of his Pacific Ocean eyes where you did noticed how it does change colors; one day, it might be a light blue; the next day: it might be a green where it made you think of the lush, elegant: picturesque plus the relaxed pace of how the scenery and the energy of the island of either Kauai or Molokai where you did experienced how different it does truthfully feel to the mixture of an urbanized and a relaxed environment of the island of Oahu when you did truthfully experience it in your very own life on a daily basis as a long time transplant resident of the island of Oahu, Hawaii where you now had called it 'your home'; the day after the next day: an equally beautiful and a mysterious shade of a cool grey which made you think of the hazy grey skies of San Francisco where you went there on a solo trip to California for the very first time back in a month of February where you had experienced how different both California and also San Francisco are both different in the comparison to the islands of Hawaii; plus you also think of how his pair of Pacific eyes does also changed into a seldom pair of gold which does makes you think of the golden sunsets and sunrises you would watch it from the lanai of your very own apartment where you did watched it every now and then as well as from the end of 'The walls' where it is a small pier with a small resting hut at the end of the pier where you did definitely always watch the bright, elegant and stunning sunrise and sunset whenever you are walking; jogging or running at the famous streets of Waikiki while your pair of feet hit the pavements of the Waikiki Streets with a soft 'thud' just as when you did take every small footsteps whenever you are walking, jogging or running around the streets of Waikiki.

Plus sometimes, you loved to sit outside at the Waikiki Beach either on a bench or on a beach chair where sometimes the people of Hawaii would call it 'Pele's painting' just as when they imagined Pele who is the local Hawaii Goddess of fire and lava would definitely paint the skies with a different shades of orange; pink, yellow and even accents of red as well plus you also imagined how both God himself and Pele herself would definitely paint the skies together imaginatively just the same as when they along with the other Gods and Goddess of the islands of Hawaii had created the other parts of both nature and the islands too as well.

You did felt proud and thankful of how you did sincerely enjoyed your life living in the island of Oahu, Hawaii as both a long time transplant resident and also what now people called you 'An old timer' or a kama' aina which means 'resident' in Hawaiian although you did felt at certain times you felt more of an outsider who is now living at the islands of Hawaii more so than a long time local resident of the island of Oahu, Hawaii.

Plus after you finished washing the dishes; you went on to do your laundry where you threw in the laundry from the laundry basket into the washing machine; closed it's door: measure the detergent to truthfully pour into a small drawer where you poured it in; start the washing process and walked over to your diary.

When you start writing in your diary, you also start reading your physical copy of the Holy Bible too as well on a random verse you did ended up randomly found while also reading the monthly verse as well as the daily and monthly version of the bible verse; open your physical diary, start writing it below the last diary entry with today's bible verse and also today's diary entry:

"Dear diary,

I know I just did woke up this morning however I do wanted to say 'Thank you; God' for everything in my very own life; for a shelter where I can stay there while sheltering myself from the weather where Mother Nature sometimes does threw her emotions unexpectedly at certain days and also a shelter where I can call it 'home' too as well permanently for good in my very own life.

Also, thank you: God for the wonderful and the hearty breakfast I did truthfully haver it this morning and it is heavenly delicious; thank you, God for both the home made sardine sandwich I made it this morning and also a good hot cup of coffee I made it from the same morning too as well plus thank you for Coco and Logan too as well for becoming part of my life apart from you, God whom I will always consider you as the number one person and spiritual figure in my very own life as well as the first man whom I will always consider him to be my first love, my first man; my first (surrogate) father and everything in general. [Also apologies to both Logan and Coco for coming in second and third place but I possibly don't truthfully think there are a second or third place in life in general but God and Jesus; he will always be my number 1 everything so apologies to both Logan and Coco definitely for real!]

Plus also thank you so much for letting me living another beautiful day as well as giving me a job where I have been praying for it for so long however I finally did it by working at the official Halekulani Boutique Souvenir Store where I am now currently working at there as both a brand new employee and training too as well to be honest.

Also, thank you so much: God for also giving me the wonderful friends of the islands of Hawaii as well as letting me become a long time permanent resident of the island of Oahu, Hawaii while I am living at the outskirts of Waikiki where although it is truly shadowed by the famous Diamond Head Crater where I would sometimes went there for a morning jog or even an evening jog plus also thank you so much, God for everything in my life; thank you so much for everything and all of the blessings you gave it to me today and every day endlessly plus having to made me feeling truthfully blessed; loved, protected: validated and supported unconditionally in every steps of the way where I am taking it towards my life just as when I went on with my own day [Just as when i can imagine you said to me 'Seize the day; my child--seize the day: Y/N!' *OMH on my sea stars and surfboards God--LOL. But in reality it does sounds truthfully serious when you did taken it towards your heart and take it very seriously in your very daily life for sure, God. Anyway, i do truthfully love you so much endlessly forever and always: God.]; God, I love you so much: God and also all in the name of the heavenly God and Jesus; amen.

I'll update you later on today; diary."

After you completed your diary entry, you closed the diary, locked it with the small silver complimentary lock which does came with the key which is supposed to unlock and lock the diary physically and went on with your day.

#my own post #my own words #logan sargeant imagine #Logan Sargeant x reader #f1 fan fiction #logan sargeant fluff #fluff #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic #my writing #my own writing #just a general fyi #for your information #Heads up information #Heads up info #ls2 fic #ls2 imagine #ls2 x y/n #ls2 x reader

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