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#it’s really not that hard to take a step back & wait for me to reply to your starter with /my/ character .
eggyrocks · 2 days
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GET BACK CHAPTER FOUR
step four: impress her
masterlist
YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE
goatkuto (07:34:23): GAME DAY GAME DAY GAME DAY goatkuto (07:34:49): ARE YOU PUMPED? GET PUMPED goatkuto (07:35:14): LISTEN TO MISS THEE STALLION AND GET PUMPED
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She doesn’t look at Bokuto once. The whole time she’s there, her eyes never leave Hinata.
Through the cheers of the crowd and the echo of the announcements, all she can focus on is him. He’s not the same as he was in high school. It’s different now, everything about him. There’s a precision and a confidence in his movements that didn’t exist before. Whether he’s crouching for a receive or soaring for a spike, everything is natural, like his body is meant to do this.
Brazil was good to him. She admits that, however reluctantly.
She’s grateful for his focus, for the seemingly immense distance between him on the court and her in the stands. She doesn’t want to explain herself to him, why she can’t, even for a second, look away from him as he plays. Why she can’t focus on anything but him. Why when Akaashi reaches down to take hold of her hand and squeeze it slightly, she can’t even feel it. It doesn’t even make sense to her.
And when the match ends, something catches in her throat. It feels nostalgic to watch Hinata throw his fist up in victory, a yell escaping his chest. At it’s that same bout of nostalgia that makes her feel like she needs to rush the court and leap into his arms, like she used to. To kiss every inch of his face and ignoring the sweat that makes his uniform cling to his skin. To push the strands of orange hair out of his forehead and squeal as his arms squeezed around her middle. To listen to him call her his good luck charm.
Instead, she squeezes Akaashi’s hand in return, choking down her tears for later, and acknowledges that it was a mistake to come.
⋆✴︎˚。⋆
She tries to give Akaashi and Bokuto their space and their privacy, standing outside of the gym, awkwardly holding her jacket in her arms and turning her head to avoid seeing an embrace that’s not meant for her to see. But Akaashi’s her ride home, so she lingers.
“Hey.”
When she hears his voice, it’s not unexpected. She was preparing for this outcome, but still, her heart leaps when she looks up and sees Hinata there, gym bag thrown over his shoulder and ends of his hair still dripping from the shower. She swallows. She’s not sure if it’s the sadness or the nerves that account for the irregularity. “Hey,” she replies.
Hinata stares at her, but keeps his distance, leaving a healthy few feet between him. Like he’s afraid of getting his head bitten off if he gets too close. “Are you okay?” he asks.
“Just waiting for Keiji,” she says, head gesturing back slightly to where Bokuto and Akaashi are, tucked around the corner in the back of the gym, away from prying eyes. “Ride home.”
“Oh, okay.”
Hinata doesn’t want to leave. She can see it in his posture, how he’s leaning in towards her without actually taking a step closer. For as much as he’s changed, grown into himself and matured and aged, he’s still the same. Bold and nervous at the same time. Awkward and forward. Honest about what he wants but embarrassed about it.
She throws him a bone. “You played good today.”
He takes it, perking up immediately. She can see it in his eyes. “Really? You think?”
She remembers this, from when they were dating. How hard it was to stay mad at him when they were fighting. He was always so well-intentioned, always desperately wanting to please her, impress her, earn her praise. Remembering hardens her resolve. “Yeah, you must’ve learned a lot in Brazil,” she comments. “Seems like it was worth it.”
She can see the implication hit him. Hinata’s face falls, and he breathes out her name in a way that makes goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. He takes a step forward, remembers himself, and then steps back again. “Please let me apologize for-“
“Can I ask you something?” she interjects, tilting her head slightly. Hinata nods his head. “Did you think I’d just be waiting for you this whole time? That my life would just stop until you got back?”
“I was waiting for you,” is his answer, earnest and immediate. She inhales sharply. “It never crossed my mind to do anything else. This whole time, you’ve been the only person I’ve ever…”
He trails off. Hinata’s unsaid words hang limply in the space between them. And she doesn’t know what else she was expecting from him.
Her name is called from behind her. She whips around to see Akaashi standing behind her, waiting expectantly. She doesn’t look back at Hinata as she turns on her heel to join him. Underneath the jacket in her arms, her hands are shaking. It was a mistake to talk to him, too.
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extras!
yn has pushover tendencies
akaashi goes to every game he can and he always tries to bring someone along to cheer for bokuto with him
it was probably halfway through the match when he realized the error of his ways
but bokuto (hinata loyalist) asked him to bring her and akaashi (simp) couldn’t say no
this chapter is short but i just wanted to get it out while i had the motivation
taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @guitarstringed-scars @ahdbodhr @nbcvs @garfieldissocool @shoyobub @iheartpinky @choerry-picking @mollyrolls @stoopidbruh @yogurtkags @yuminako @rockleeisbaeeee @Lisoozi @michivrse @19calicos @sawyersloanie @bailey-reeds @staileykout @kitskasoboring @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @enervante-cochon @loveelylacey @atsumuenthusiast @qualitygiantshoepsychic @alpha-mommy69 @acowboykisser @milesmoralesluvs @Himbo_joestar @kinsies-blog @3lectraheart @1lovestrawberrymilk @dailyakira @lvtilzs @miliondollagirl @strxwberri-s @kokoblep @muskratlove @honeyfewr @paulaaaa-b0 @keeboismine @miiyas @s1ckntw1st3d @s777athv @itsdragonius @t5ukishimakeis @primaverx
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storiesfromafan · 2 days
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Drinks - Benny x Reader
A/N: a very small, 499 word one-shot. Enjoy.
Prompt: How many drinks would it take to make you mine?
Tag list: @strayrockette
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Taking a moment away from your girl friends, and the need for another drink. You were leaning against the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice you. When he did, you gave him your order, and waited for your drink.
“How many drinks would it take to make you mine?” Came a rough voice from behind you.
You sighed, rolling your eyes – though your new friend couldn’t see it. “I think the line is how many drinks would it take to take you home? Hmm”. Your tone was annoyed.
When you got no reply did you finally decide to look at your new suitor, and planning to further give the guy a piece of your mind. Unfortunately you did not expect the fine specimen standing behind you. He was tall, just enough muscle, dirty blonde messy mop on his head, matching stubble across his strong jaw and the most gorgeous blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Along with a small smirk upon his lips. Oh how you wish you’d looked at him before opening your big mouth.
To be fair, most of your night, different Vandals had come up to you, shooting their shot. Which you knocked back every time. So, you hadn't expected the next guy to hit on you to be a tall drink of water. Definitely a step up over the lack lustre men that had came before him. You could think of a thing or two you could do with this man.
“I meant what I said" replied the gorgeous man.
Slightly clearing your throat, you gained back your senses. “Hmmm, it’s bold to want to make me yours-” you paused, not knowing his name.
As if reading your mind, he spoke “Benny".
“-Benny, without even a test ride. Why's that?” You questioned, looking him dead in the eye and not backing down.
The smirk on Benny's lips grew, as a small chuckle escaped them. “I don’t need a test ride when I know what I want. And I want you, simple as that, sweetheart".
You raised an eyebrow at his words, and how sure of himself he was. “Oh really, Benny? How can you be so sure?”
Without breaking eye contact, he leant in closer, allowing you to get a good whiff of his aftershave and cigarette mix. Which had your head swimming. “Oh sweetheart, I have liked what I’ve seen the last few nights" and then he winked.
“Is that so?” You enquired, just as your drink was placed by you on the bar. “Unfortunately for you, I don't drink. So, I guess I wont be yours".
With that, you grabbed your pop before patting Benny on the arm and walking back to your friends. You could feel his gaze on you, burning you with every step from him you took. You might be a tease and playing hard to get, but you weren't letting no Vandal think they could have you so easily. If Benny really wanted you, he could work for it.
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ruskayas · 2 years
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above all things, yelena is strictly malleable & easily influenced by most things/people/events. if you think she is set on herself and strong-willed, or unchangeable by the environment and its influences, your guess would be faulty. her self-image is incredibly distorted and unstable & her paranoia ubiquitous. i cannot stress enough how her condition drives every aspect of her life & how wrong you’d be in assuming how she’s going to act in threads. it is her experience, and she does not need to fit your own patriarchal standards.
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sttoru · 10 months
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‘no matter how much time the king of curses spends with you, he doesn’t think he will ever understand you or your affectionate behaviour towards him.’
☀︎|tags. true form sukuna x female reader. heian era sukuna. fluff. bits of mentions of blood & murder. big size difference. cold-big-monster-having-a-small-soft-spot-for-a-single-human trope. reader gets called ‘little one, brat’. not proof read! let me know if you like my characterisation or not; it’s my first sukuna fic.
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a kiss on the cheek is one of the most innocent - yet apparently also the most difficult - things to do. it’s a small form of intimacy; not that hard to do. it’s really as simple as planting your lips on your beloved’s cheek. then all you do is retreat — maybe get a kiss on the cheek back from him. or on the lips.
“get moving. i’m not waiting all day for you.” sukuna grumbles. you had suddenly stopped in your tracks and the king of curses was confused as to what the reason might have been. the two of you had been walking through the courtyard for a few minutes now — well, you basically had to drag him out to take a little stroll together.
and now the same you was quiet. it bothered sukuna; you were always so chatty around him when it was just the two of you. he might have called you an ‘annoying brat’ for it, but he secretly enjoyed your company and voice.
“c-coming.” you reply in a quiet mumble, eyes glancing over at the monstrous frame that stood a few steps away. his dull yet sharp gaze was focused on you — like he was sizing you up. or rather: trying to figure out what’s wrong with the change in behaviour you showed.
sukuna watches you as you hurry over to his side again. he resumes walking, hands folded over each other under the material of his kimono.
though, he couldn’t yet let go of the fact that you were acting different around him. the king of curses’ suspicion only grew once he noticed how your fingers fiddled with your obi. you were anxious about something.
sukuna shakes his head slightly. some humans sure are difficult to understand, he thinks to himself. your happy yet reserved personality when you usually interacted with him had disappeared and made place for a nervous wreck. trying to figure out why made sukuna’s head hurt.
were you finally scared of him? like all other humans and curses were?
he doesn’t know why, but it felt like he would hate for such thing to happen. sukuna usually wouldn’t care if someone resents, fears or somehow even admires him. only you could make him think and care about such difficult and maybe even trivial things.
“uhm,” you break off his train of thoughts and his eyes are instantly on yours again, “may i do something really quickly?”
sukuna’s face doesn’t show any change in expression, but a small nod tells you everything you need to know. you clear your throat, “can you please lower your head towards me?”
lowering his head? oh, you got some guts. if anyone else had said that to him, sukuna would have obliterated them; there wouldn’t have been anything but red bloody dust left of their body.
but then again: it’s you. all exceptions the king of curses makes are for you.
sukuna slightly lowers his head to your level so you could do whatever you needed to. he’d be lying if he said that his curiosity wasn’t piqued. it always was when he was around you.
you gulp. it was time to do what you’ve longed to do ever since the beginning of your stroll: give the ryomen sukuna a kiss on the cheek. you don’t think he’d be mad—at least he never seriously gets mad at you. only to get a reaction out of you since your responses are always ‘intensely amusing’—as he says.
“go on.” sukuna’s breath hits your cheeks. he was so close—too close that it made you even more nervous in a way. as if you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet.
you swallow your fears and just go for it. your lips attach to his cheek in the fraction of a second—the speed of light—before they leave. it was right under his right set of eyes.
you take a step back and clear your throat. you try to escape the embarrassment of sukuna’s possible reaction by continuing your stroll, though were stopped by a strong hand firmly grabbing your forearm.
“where’d you think you’re going?”
sukuna’s deep voice echoes through your ears. you were surprised to hear the tone of it; almost soft. a tone sukuna uses on rare occasions: in your presence.
you turn your head around and smile sheepishly at the king of curses before you. he doesn’t return the same (not that you expected him to), however he does unexpectedly ruffle your hair for a split second. or at least he attempts to.
his large and warm palm lands on top of your head and he gives it a little and subtle shake. sukuna had seen you do a similar action to someone else before, thus he concluded that he could do it to you. maybe as a form of endearment or. . whatever you used it as.
he did find the way you tried to scurry away after giving him a kiss very adorable. even if he wouldn’t say so out loud.
“now, come along. we don’t have all day.” sukuna nonchalantly mutters after retracting his hand. it left as fast as it came, though you were still stunned at the slight show of affection the king of curses returned.
you instantly catch up to sukuna again—walking next to him as fast as your legs could take you. you were a bit more at ease after you got a positive reaction to your little kiss. it was a pity that he didn’t smirk or laugh at you—maybe mocked you like he usually would. but that head pat made up for it.
even if it did leave your hair a little disheveled.
you couldn’t properly see sukuna’s face, but the faint smirk tugging at his lips was undeniably there. even if it was for just a split second.
“how very interesting.” sukuna mutters under his breath so you wouldn’t catch on. he sighs and shakes his head, unable to keep out that memory of you looking so cute—standing on the tip of your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek with your comically small hand on his jaw line. he doesn’t know why he found that to be so thrilling.
you flutter your eyelashes. you were curious about what he might have commented on, “may i ask what you had just said? i didn’t quite hear it.”
a short second of silence hangs before sukuna tilts his head to the right to look down at you again; his face expressionless, but still having a hint of a grin on his lips.
“i said you better hurry before i gobble you up right this instant.” he replies, (playfully) intimidating you with his sharp red eyes that glinted with a form of danger.
you shiver (though knew the threat was an empty one) and instantly pick up your pace. you even get ahead of him, walking as fast as your legs could. you answer with a curt ‘my apologies’ and walk like you actually have somewhere to be.
sukuna’s grin only grows as he sees you get ahead of him. if you had turned around, maybe you could have caught onto that light flicker of affection in his expression.
“i’m coming for you, little one.” sukuna adds just to ignite some more fear into you and you react as expected, “you’re not escaping me today.”
it was a funny sight; your reactions always make him enjoy his time with you even more than he already (secretly) was.
the way his body reacts in mysterious ways when you’re around, is still very much an unsolved riddle to the king of curses. and the reasons as to why you aren’t scared of him and can easily give him all your ‘love’ are also still yet to be discovered.
until then, sukuna will continue to enjoy teasing you.
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chuluoyi · 2 months
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࿐ ࿔ hot, hot summer !
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in which you got the offer of a lifetime—takes place in 2006-2009 era! @mrrpmiao miao, you’re so responsible for the brain worm you’ve instilled in my mind🙂‍↕️
a part of gojo's love entries
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summer is as hot as you are pretty.
it’s an undisputed fact to satoru. after all, he chose you. so of course you were the best. he supposed even strangers here would eventually come to realize it too… as it wasn’t the first time their kind had done so.
kamakura beach was packed in summer, and he stepped away a bit to get you shaved ice only to come back to this appalling sight.
“miss! ooh! you’re so gorgeous!”
this suspicious-looking middle-aged man—with goatee, long tied hair, wearing palm shirt and beach shorts—approached you so merrily as you were chilling under the parasol.
“ah thank you…?” you pasted a taut smile, totally clueless and spooked, hoping he would go on his way.
“i mean it! your body is so—wow!” the man gasped dramatically, appraising you from head to toe. “your bust—it’s perfect! you’d make a good cover girl, you know!”
you were wearing the bikini of the same brand inoue waka endorsed at satoru’s insistence, and true, it was indeed a sight for sore eyes.
his sore eyes, specifically. not others.
satoru scowled, and he marched towards where you were. he would do his job as always—chasing away no-good men from you.
“hey you,” he barked. “what business do you have with my girl here?”
the bearded man regarded him with surprise, before he assessed him from top to bottom. “oh! you’re mr. boyfriend? whoa, you don’t look bad yourself!”
“if you’re trying to bother my—”
“no, no! you’ve got the wrong idea!” the man defended, raising both hands in surrender. “you see, i’m about to offer the pretty lady a gig as a gravure model!”
wha? you gaped. satoru blinked.
“m-me?” you stammered, flabbergasted, pointing at yourself. “uh, are you sure?”
“yes! 100% sure!” the agent man replied with stars in his eyes. “miss, with your assets, you’ll outshine even inoue waka or kaoru sakurako themselves!”
“really?!” you almost laughed. it was a strange compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.
but next to you, satoru’s face darkened, his eyes obscured. his fists clenched around the paper bowl of shaved ice so hard it shook. the next thing you know—
“here, hold this.” he suddenly shoved the shaved ice to you, before he plucked his sandal off and—
“YOU!” satoru raised the flip-flop above his head, his eyes blazing with fury, ready to swing it at the man. “GET LOST YOU SLIMY BOZO!”
“—?! WAIT, YOUNG MAN!”
and then came the most disastrous scene before you: your boyfriend chased the agent with his sandal, throwing it at him that it bonked his head, then grabbed someone’s big-ass water gun without permission and continued the pursuit, determined to catch him.
. . .
“how could you?! why do you seem even remotely interested!?” satoru fierily questioned you after he was done cooking the gravure video agent, panting and sopping wet. in the end, the two of them got into a water gun fight that ended with him winning.
you turned to him, feigning an unimpressed expression. “he said i can outshine inoue waka. who wouldn’t want that chance?”
“you can’t!” he retorted almost immediately, aghast. “i mean, yeah you can! but no! no way! you can’t flaunt your body for everyone to see!”
“why?”
“you are mine!” he pouted hard, irked. “i don’t want to share you! you are for the consumption of my eyes only!”
his blatant response made you giddy, truthfully. and as if to stress his point, he suddenly pulled you to his chest from behind, wrapping both arms around you, making you squeal.
“satoru, you’re wet!”
“so? when i marry you someday, we’re going to share a lot of things together. wet is one of them.”
“does this mean you’d pick me over inoue waka?” you threw him a suggestive smile, looking up at him expectantly.
his face then turned pink, as he smooched you in the head. “you know the answer to that, dummy.”
who would have thought that he would really keep his promise and that you'd come to the same beach years later...?
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iidrk3i · 3 months
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☆ ACTIONS OVER WORDS
hq -- tsukishima kei x gn!reader
summary: tsukishima kei doesn't know how to say he's sorry. so instead, he tries apologizing in a different way.
warnings: a bittt angsty but fluff in the end, brief food mentions, tsukki calls reader overbearing, nothing too much :)
word count: 768
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there he was, sitting on the couch with his head lolled on the headrest. what had started as a small disagreement between the two of you became a heated argument, which resulted in tsukishima calling you overbearing.
in your defense, you were just reminding your boyfriend to eat his meals everyday. this was the third time this week that you had reminded him, but something about today really ticked him off.
after tsukishima had gotten the last word in, he caught a glimpse of your face before you headed off into your shared bedroom. it was clear that you were upset with him, and you had every right to be. you weren't being overbearing at all. you were just being the kind person that he fell in love with. the person who looked out for everyone that they loved.
tsukishima looked at his phone. 6:43pm. he’s been sitting on the couch for a good 15 minutes trying to think of something to say to you. he wanted to say something sincere, something that would be genuine, but no matter how hard he thought, no matter how long he sat and waited for something to come to him, nothing was coming to mind.
that’s when tsukishima thought of a different tactic.
he had gone online and searched up your favorite take out place, ordering something for the both of you. once the food had arrived, tsukishima finally built up the courage to knock on the bedroom door. when he was met with silence, his hand hovered over the doorknob for a second, ultimately coming to the decision to walk in.
“oi y/n, i- uh.. i ordered takeout for us, if you're hungry," tsukishima stammered, feeling the weight of his words from earlier still heavy on his shoulders. he hesitated for a moment, unsure if you would even want to see him.
inside the dimly lit bedroom, you were seated on the edge of the bed, your back turned towards him. you had been replaying the argument in your mind, questioning whether you were indeed being too pushy. your thoughts were interrupted by his voice, and despite feeling hurt, you couldn't deny the rumbling in your stomach at the mention of food.
you turned slightly to look at him, noticing the takeout bags in his hands. the gesture made your heart melt. tsukishima cleared his throat nervously, taking a small step closer. "i... i know i was out of line earlier. you were just looking out for me," he began, his voice low. "i appreciate that, really. i'm sorry for calling you overbearing."
you remained silent, your gaze fixed on the floor as you processed his words. tsukishima shifted uncomfortably at the doorframe. "can we... can we talk about this?" he asked tentatively, taking another small step forward. "or at least, can we eat together?"
you glanced up at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. despite the hurt feelings, you knew that tsukishima wasn't one to apologize easily. the fact that he had ordered your favorite food showed that he was trying, in his own way, to make amends.
finally, you nodded silently, gesturing towards the bed. tsukishima exhaled quietly in relief, setting the takeout containers down on the bedside table before joining you. for a while, neither of you spoke as you ate, the quietness was comfortable.
after a few minutes, tsukishima broke the silence cautiously. "i mean it, y/n. i shouldn't have said those things. i know you care about me, and i... i care about you too." his voice was hesitant, but genuine.
you looked at him then, meeting his gaze. "i know," you replied softly, your tone was enough for tsukishima to know you were forgiving him. "i just... sometimes i worry, you know?"
he nodded, his expression serious. "i get that. and i promise i'll try to be more mindful. you deserve that."
with those words, all the tension leaves the air. the conversation flowed more easily from there, the both of you gradually finding common ground and understanding. by the time you finished eating, a sense of comfort hung in the air.
as tsukishima gathered up the empty containers, you reached out to touch his arm lightly. "thank you, kei,” you said sincerely, meeting his eyes once more. "for trying."
he smiled faintly, a hint of relief in his expression. "thank you for not giving up on me," he replied, his voice soft.
and with that, the evening unfolded into a quiet understanding between the two of you, strengthening the bond that had drawn you together in the first place.
a/n: this one’s a little messy😓
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omgeto · 1 year
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☆ GHOSTING — GETO SUGURU X READER
summary: after being made aware of your long term ex boyfriends plans to 'fix' the world, you knew that you had to try and stop him. but seeing him for the first time in a decade; all the love, the hate, the heartbreak comes right back to you both and you realise you care about him a lot more than you thought.
wc: 4.7k (of pure goodness....)
cw: afab!reader, mdni, angst to fluff (kinda) cult leader ex boyfriend!geto, kinda sorta canon (its the day that geto yk...) he eats you out like its his last meal, half hate fucking, full making love, and a whole lot of geto being culty and cunty. this one has a plot people!!
authors note: guys yk I love a good exes to lovers fic so the argument in this one hits different and the whole idea of you and suguru breaking up just before he runs off to run his cult really gets to me, so I hope you enjoy this one.
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geto suguru hasn’t seen you in years, in almost a decade, and is still reeling harshly from how you left him when he needed you. but somehow he finds himself rushing to meet you when he gets the four word text from your number—which is still saved in his phone under ‘my girl’— saying, ‘we need to talk.’
he knows exactly what you want to speak about, he could easily put together why today of all days you’d want to see —after vanishing him for just over a decade. he figured gojo probably gave word to you, as from when you’ve been young and growing up together, you’ve all known that if gojo couldn’t get through to him, you could.
he opens the door to your apartment, knowing that you wouldn’t have locked it—you always had a habit of leaving it open for him. and there you are, standing in the dimly lit room, waiting for his arrival. the years have etched subtle changes onto your face and in your demeanour, but the essence of who you are remains unchanged. time may have separated you, but in this moment, it feels as though it has never passed.
“you can't do this,” is the first thing you say, your voice steady despite the unexpected surge of emotions upon seeing him again. you didn't think seeing him after all this time would affect you, but it did. his hair is longer, his frame more imposing, but that unmistakable smirk remains, a haunting reminder of the man you once knew.
“wow right to the chase,” he chuckles bitterly, his presence taking up the room as he enters the room further, “i forgot you never really had a thing for beating around the bush.”
you meet his bitter chuckle with a steady gaze, your resolve unwavering. the years of separation have done nothing to diminish the intensity of your connection, the push and pull between you two.
"it's not the time for games, suguru," you reply, your tone serious. "you know why i called you here."
he sighs, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly. the weight of his plans, the burden he carries, is evident in the lines etched on his face. "i figured you'd call sooner or later."
the room seems to shrink as the gravity of the situation hangs between you. the man you once knew, the one who could make your heart race with a smile, now stands before you, shrouded in darkness.
"i won't let you go through with this," you say firmly, your eyes never leaving his. "there's another way, suguru. there has to be."
for a moment, his façade cracks, and you catch a glimpse of the person he used to be, the one who believed in a better world. but then the hardness returns to his eyes, and he steps closer, his presence overwhelming.
"you always were too idealistic," he mutters, almost to himself. "but i can't turn back now. the world needs this change."
"what happened to you?" you snap out, your words laced with a bitter edge that hangs heavily in the air. it's a question that carries the weight of your years of frustration, anger, and confusion. but you knew what happened to him; everyone knew.
his reaction is immediate, and the room seems to tremble with his anger. his gaze narrows, and the atmosphere becomes charged with tension. "you don't get to ask that," he spits out, his voice dripping with bitterness. "you left, remember? you abandoned me when i needed you the most."
“it wasn’t like that,” you argue, leaning forward, your body tense. “by the time i left you were already gone, being physically present in a relationship doesn’t mean anything if your mind is fucking checked out all the time. at that point i was just dating a shell of you.” 
“is that how you justify it?" he retorts, his anger unabated. "you think leaving was the solution?”
you clench your fists, your own anger rising to meet his. "i did what i had to do to protect myself, suguru. you were spiralling, consumed by your own darkness. I couldn't save you"
his eyes blaze with a mixture of fury and hurt. "you think i needed saving?
“you still need saving,” you scoff gesturing to him standing right in front of you, “just because you couldn’t save—”
“don’t even go there,” he interrupts, his hand raising to stop you. he knew you were talking about riko, “i’ve made peace with that.”
“oh have you?” you accuse, “since it seems to me, you’ve been on a killing spree, ever since.”
“other people died y’know,” he hisses out, “remember haibara? he was your fucking friend, but you weren’t even there.”
“this isn’t about me,” you say disregarding his comment, regret seeping through you, “you think i haven’t kept tabs on you since i’ve been away. who have you become?”
he glares at you, his anger evident. "i've become what the world needs," he snaps, his voice heavy. "someone willing to do what it takes to change things."
"and is killing a village full of people the way to do that?" you challenge, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. "killing your..." You pause, overwhelmed by the thoughts and images of what he's done. "was killing your parents worth it?"
his expression hardens, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of regret in his eyes, but it's quickly masked by his resolve. "i had to make sacrifices," he says coldly. "it's a small price to pay for a greater cause."
“you can’t truly think that,” you say, taking a step closer to him, your fists still clenched at your sides. “how did it feel killing them then? to take away the lives of your own parents who were innocent?” you probe, you knew that there was some part of him that must feel bad.”
“you’re about… ten years too late to be trying to have this conversation with me,” he shrugs, the turmoil that geto felt when he first set out on his mission has ceased. the guilt he felt for killing his parents, even the grief he had for something that he caused, wasn’t a factor for him anymore.
your frustration boils over as you press him further. "so, you've become heartless, then?" you challenge. the room seems to tighten around you as you await his response. "a cold-blooded killer who's convinced himself that the ends justify the means?"
geto's gaze narrows, his patience dwindling. "it's not about being heartless. it's about doing what's necessary to achieve our goals."
"your goals," you emphasise, "not mine. and not the goals of the innocent people you've hurt along the way."
he sighs, exasperation creeping into his voice. "you always had a way of making everything so complicated, questioning every choice. you left because you couldn't handle the real world."
you shake your head, unwilling to accept his justifications. "no, i left because i couldn't stand by and watch you become a monster."
“so i’m just a monster, yeah?” he retorts, stepping towards you, his anger evident across his face, you could see your words triggered him, and as he gets closer you could feel your facade faltering. 
your heart races as he approaches, and you raise a hand instinctively, palm out, to signal him to stop. "don't come any closer," you warn, your voice trembling with a mixture of fear and anger. there was no rational reason to be scared of him, you’ve known him for years, and despite everything that he’s done —what he’s become— there was still a part of you that believed that he wouldn’t hurt you.
but geto ignores your plea, his determination unwavering. he grabs your hand firmly, his grip surprisingly gentle despite the intensity of the moment. his dark eyes bore into yours, and he speaks in a low, taunting tone, "why? are you scared that with me being this close, you're going to realise that you loved a monster? that you're still in love with him?"
you grit your teeth, refusing to let him get under your skin. "suguru, you don't get to manipulate me with your twisted version of love," you retort, your voice laced with defiance. "i won't let you use my feelings against me.
his words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you're torn between the conflicting emotions swirling inside you. the memories of the love you once shared, the pain of his transformation into something unrecognisable, and the lingering attraction between you all crash together in this charged moment.
you try to pull your hand away, to regain control of the situation, but geto's grip tightens, preventing your escape. his face inches closer to yours, and despite your better judgement, your breath hitches. “manipulation, huh?” geto muses, his mouth so close to yours that you feel his breath faintly brush across your lips. you look up at him through your lowered eyelashes, and in that fleeting pause, so small that it’s almost imperceptible, you find yourself considering the gravity of your actions, if only for a moment.
the feeling of doubt is short lived, as you press your lips against geto’s, his mouth immediately moulding into yours. the kiss is searing, as you push your bodies against each other, he releases your hand from his grip, his hands move to cradle your head, holding it in place as he deepens the kiss, bruising your lips with his.
everything about geto is familiar, the taste of him, the warmth of his mouth, the way he consumes you. his tongue explores yours, wrestling for control as your arms scratch at him trying to tug off his robe. you wanted him to feel you, all of you—your touch, your lips, your hurt, your anger, the love that you still have that you thought was small. but after seeing him, kissing him, you realise is still an overwhelmingly large part of you.
you pull apart to catch your breath, staring hard at each other, but there’s barely a moment wasted before your back on eachother. kissing each other feverishly, as you rip off each other's clothes, he pushes you hard, your back slamming against the nearest piece of furniture as his mouth latches onto your neck. his kisses cascade down your body, stopping at your breasts as he unhooks your bra, tossing it aside.
“i missed these,” he murmurs, as his lips descend onto your tits, his face nuzzling at your chest as he sucks and pulls at your nipples with his teeth. “and i missed this,” he continues to mumble, his hands cupping your clothed pussy, his finger lightly caressing your slit. 
you arch forward into his touch, wanting to feel him more and chuckles saying, “even after all these years, you still respond to my touch just the same.” his fingers plunge into your panties, brushing against your clit and he smirks as your lips part a stifled moan escaping your lips—proving his point.
“s-shut up,” you hiss out, as you slowly start to gyrate against his fingers. although it was obvious from the way you were already soaking your underwear, you didn’t want to admit how good he is actually making you feel—you just couldn’t give him the satisfaction. geto raises his eyebrows at you in amusement, as he watches you bite your lip trying to contain your moans, as his fingers inch into your inviting pussy.
geto’s body moves down yours as he removes his lips from your tits, continues to press kisses down your stomach, as he drops down to his knees —his eyes level with your cunt. he presses a kiss to your covered pussy, before sliding off your panties. his mouth is just about to latch onto you but he pauses looking up at you, his gaze unwavering, “you want this right?” you nod slowly, your anticipation brewing as your eyes lock onto his, “use your words.”
you release an exasperated huff, but he remains steadfast, his raised eyebrow a silent declaration that he won't act until you tell him what he wants to hear. the room seems to pulse with tension, the growing desire between you mounting with each heartbeat.
your hands slide it’s way into his hair, pushing your fingers through his scalp, as you grin, you voice is low and sultry as you say, “i want it.” his mouth envelopes your pussy and you push his head into you deeper, forcing your nose into your arousal. he inhales you, taking in your scent as he presses his face in your cunt. 
“such a pretty pussy,” he mutters lowly, you could feel the vibrations spread through your pussy. his tongue strokes down your slit, before pushing into you, he twists and slurps at you trying to suck out all of your juices. 
geto nibbles at your clit, tugging at it with his teeth before bringing his fingers back to cunt. shoving two fingers in roughly. you pull his hair harshly, the feeling of his mouth sucking on your clit leaving your mind blank. “ah f-fuck,” you cry out, as geto’s strokes grow more intense.
“c’mon let me hear you more,” geto prompts, pulling away slightly from your pussy, his lips plump and coated from your wetness. he grabs one of your legs and hikes it over his shoulder, the angle allowing him to force his fingers into you further, curling them up in your pussy as he goes back to shoving his face in your sobbing cunt.
you grind your pussy in his face, working with him in getting you off. both of your movements were frantic, geto is eating your pussy with such eagerness, hungrily trying to drink all of your cum. “i’m close s-sugu i’m—” you choke out, feeling yourself slipping down the wall you pressed against, but geto holds you upright, his large hand keeping your thigh hooked over his shoulder and roughly pushing you up against the wall.
geto grins against your cunt, your moans and cries is a sound he didn’t realise how much he missed until he heard them now. you laboured breathing, stammered sentences told him that you were reading cum, but he just had to push you further. so he adds one more finger, sending it straight to your spot, twisting and pushing it in your pussy so hard that tears brim your eyes. he was so relentless, you always loved that about him, how he knows your body in and out, he knew exactly where to touch, and just how far he should push to have you becoming a mess for him.
you couldn’t take him anymore, so you cum, hard. your pussy releasing ropes and ropes of cum, all over geto’s fingers and his face, and he laps at it, munching all your cum with excitement. “i know you can give me more than that,” he muses, pressing his thumb down on your clit, rubbing at it aggressively as you cum. your eyes roll back, as he repeatedly flicks at your cum, and before you know it, you're squirting all over his face.
geto’s eyes widen, and he doesn’t stop playing with your pussy, until you bow your head in submission, worn out from all the cum you’ve released over him. your hands slide out of his hair, as you try and catch your breath and geto peppers your cunt and your thighs with kisses finally letting your thigh come off his shoulders. “damn your pussy’s still as sweet as ever.”
“stop with the talking,” you mumble, as you pull him up to his feet, your lips forcing their way back onto him. your hands frantically explore each other's bodies as you drag him to your bedroom, pushing him on your bed. “i can’t fucking stand you,” you mutter to yourself, your denial evident, as you straddle him, pulling his dick out of his boxers.
you pause briefly at the sight, his thick, long dick staring at you. you hear geto chuckle at your reaction, your eyes meet his with a challenging look exchanged between you, he raises his eyebrow at you, a silent dare on whether you’ll actually be able to get the control that you’re aiming to have. 
you hover over his dick, your pussy still dripping, geto bites his lip in anticipation as you tease him, slowly edging yourself down onto him. your pussy greedily, takes in his dick as you force yourself down on him as immediately fills you, stretching out your cunt with one push. you start to ride him, hard and fast, rocking your body forward as you bounce up and down on him, your hand pressing down on his stomach to keep you steady.
geto sits up, stifling a moan as he feels your cunt clench around his dick with everyone of your movements. he tries to thrust up into you, but he just can’t match the relentless rhythm you had, “f-fuck,” he exhales, a moan escaping his mouth, and you smirk —you have him just where you wanted him.
“you alright there suguru?” you mock, the grin spread across your face unmissable as you grind yourself down against him, tightening your pussy around his pole as you slid up and down. the bite on his lip hardens as he pulls it further between his teeth to suppress another moan.
but geto doesn’t submit for long, his hand slaps you across your tits and his fingers pinch your nipples, twisting and tugging them, causing you to arch your back as you wail. “d’you r-really think you run shit here?” he groans, flicking at your nipples with every word, “you’ll never be in control, not with me,” he taunts.
“oh really?” you retort, as you still continue to move your ass, meeting his hips. you can feel him start to pick up his pace, trying to match yours, his hips slightly thrusting upwards, his dick pushing into you deeper.
“yeah,” he says confidently through gritted teeth, one of his hands pulling away from your nipples and onto your ass, harshly grabbing one of your cheeks to steady himself as he drills into you further, “because you’re still my girl.” 
you still at his words, you knew he didn’t mean it but you couldn’t help but react to the name that he always used to refer to you as. geto could see your eyes become vacant, as you think back to the memories when you were truly his girl. you used to revel in that —the feeling of being his. he takes advantage of your pause, your rhythm halted as he takes over, now setting the pace as he charges his dick into you, stuffing you further. 
“suguru f-fuck you’re so—” you sob out, as he breaks down your wall, his strokes hitting your spot perfectly. your body buckles, crumbling at the force that geto was using as he repeatedly thrusts into you, his hand pushing you in further so his dick can get an even better angle in you.
“i’m so what?” he retorts, knowing you wouldn’t be able to string an answer together from the way he is fucking you dumb. geto couldn’t deny that he is getting some joy out seeing you all drunk on his dick, reduced to nothing but moans and incoherent sentences, he liked being the one to break you down. “am i still a monster, someone you can’t stand being around?”
you sloppily nod your head, trying to keep some resolve, but your efforts are pointless since all the insults and accusations you were spouting earlier are now futile, you lost your care in getting him to do the right thing, all you want now is for him to stay like this — inside of you. 
“s-shit i can’t take it a-anymore im gonna cu—” you force out, clenching yourself around little his dick hard as you feel your orgasm building up. but geto’s movements stop for a second as he pulls his dick out of you, flipping you over, your back landing hard on your bed. he leans over you, his focus fixed on you, but at this point, his eyes don’t hold the same heartache, and hurt that they did when he first stepped into your house. the geto that is looking at you now, is the one who’d always look at you everyday, ten years ago —with love and longing.
he strokes his dick down your aching pussy, teasing you with it, but just before he puts it in, his hand caresses your face cupping your chin as he says, “when i said you were still my girl, i meant it y’know?” and your lips part in surprise at his admission. “although it hurt me, when you left me, you just never stopped being my girl.”
“suguru i-i don’t know what to say,” you stammer, and you didn’t realise until he swipes under your eye, that you were crying. there was so much more to your relationship with geto than just some highschool romance, you loved another, and no one could tell you otherwise. 
“tell me that you are,” he prompts, now pressing kisses to your tear stained face, his lips moving down to yours, “tell me that you are still my girl,” he finishes in between kisses. his hopeful eyes still remain on yours, and you could feel him slowly inching his dick into you.
you wrap your legs around his back, your arms hooking around his neck as you pull his head next to yours, your mouth near his ear as you whisper, “i am still yours.” he pushes his dick back into you, his strokes deep and slow. it was different from before, there was no competition or hate between you as you fucked, you didn’t have a point to prove other than the fact that you still loved each other. 
geto’s moans are loud, he has nothing to hold back as he growls lowly in your ear. the way he holds you, and takes his time kisses you and fucking you as if he was accounting for this potentially being his last ever time doing so. “i’ll never get enough of this.”
“then don’t go,” you whine, and your words hold a deeper meaning that you both knew but won’t acknowledge knowing it is pointless to discuss any further. you pull him into you deeper, your thighs clenching around him as your hold tightens. 
the feeling of you pulling him in, has him clenching his eyes as your pussy takes him in, his mouth takes yours in a powerful kiss, before he mumbles “you gonna let me cum in you, leave you with every last bit of me.” you don’t even respond, just deepening the kiss, your head shaking in agreement.
you both cum together, geto spraying your walls as he sinks his face into the crook of your neck, sinking his teeth into your exposed flesh as he continues to shoot ropes of cum inside of you. you claw at his back as you feel all of him enter you, your cum mixing with his as you cry out in full pleasure.
his forehead rests against yours, as the last bits of his cum enter you and neither of you say anything, all that can be heard is just heavy breaths coming from the both of you. you didn’t know what was to happen now, there was still so much left unsaid, unresolved and things have changed now that geto is literally stuffed inside of you.
geto is about to pull out of you finally, but you stop him muttering a faint, “stay,” and he does. he knows he had somewhere to be, things to do that are bigger than the both of you, but he just couldn’t leave when you ask him to stay. he manoeuvres your body so that you now lay atop him, comfortably cockwarming him as he thumb brushes gentle strokes down your arm.
“y’know i’ve got these two girls, who i think would love you,” he muses.
“what? did you manage to become a father whilst i was away?” you tease.
“something like that, yeah,” he mumbles, a small smile forming on his face as thoughts of nanako and mimiko flash through his mind — they’re a bittersweet reminder of the new life he’s built without you, one that you wouldn’t be able to fit in. it wasn’t that long ago that you’d have thoughts about geto fathering your own kids, dreams of somewhat of a domestic life that you’d now never get to have with him.
“well maybe i can meet them,” you say non-committedly.
“yeah maybe…” his voice falters, as you both know that it would never happen.
“do you enjoy it then?” you ask, “this ‘new’ life of yours.” you could tell just by the brief mention of nanako and mimiko and the way he carries himself that he does enjoy his life, but you were hoping that he’d still answer no.
geto hesitates for a moment, his gaze drifting to the ceiling as he contemplates your question, “i…” he begins, his gaze returning to yours, “i won’t lie. it’s different, and there’s moments i find true solace in it, this has been my life for a long time now, so it’s just something i’ve really gotten used to.”
“and you’re happy to go back to it, after this?” your question is loaded, and you feel dumb for even asking but when you did call him over to get him to not go through with his plans, of course your motivations have slightly changed, but your goal is still the same. 
 “i don’t think you should ask me to make a choice, knowing that im not going to choose you,” he grits out, he doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, but 
“you’re not gonna win you know, satoru wouldn’t let it happen,” you couldn’t help yourself, the rejection he just gave you stung, and you wanted him to feel what you felt.
but geto doesn’t bite, he knows you’re hurting—that he’s the cause of it, so he lets you hurt, his hold tightening comfortably as you sulk in his arms. geto places a kiss on your temple, ignoring your comment as he concludes, “let’s just not, okay?”
geto stays with you until your breathing settles into a steady rhythm, and you don’t notice him slipping out of you. he cleans you up and tucks you into your bedsheets, giving you one final stare as if he’s trying to keep a mental image of how you look when he’s last seen you. his lips meet yours in a final, chaste kiss and he mutters a promise that he didn’t think you’d hear, but you do, stirring awake as his lips leave yours, “i’ll see you again… eventually.”
you wake up to an empty room, the warmth of geto's presence replaced by a stark emptiness. the realisation hits you like a wave of cold water – he's gone, leaving nothing behind but soiled sheets and a hollow ache in your chest. there's no note, no message, no trace of his ever being there, except for the lingering scent of him that clings to the air. you know that someone will eventually inform you of the outcome of the night, but deep down, you already suspect that his last promise to you will end up being broken.
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AN: first like proper proper real juicy fic that ive written in a long time imo and its just like this took me so long since im soooo sensitive about my geto fics and im just like overly critical about my angsty and fluff and plot fics and my smut and JUST EVERYTHING but I managed to get it all done and I think some parts of this really hit hard. the ending is ofc bittersweet since if we go by canon, he goes and yuta beats his fuckinggg ass and he dies wtf but... the true ending is really up to your imagination. (not really) like dont even think about the ending just focus on the fact that they NEVER TELL EACHOTHER THAT THEY LOVE EACH OTHER BECAUSE UR SO IN LOVE THAT YOU ADMITTING THAT UR STILL 'HIS GIRL' IS ALL THE CONFIRMATION HE NEEDS. my finished an are sooo long why because I FUCKING CAN SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY, PLEASE LMK UR THOUGHTS AND SLAY ALL DAY also thank you @kazushawty and @biscuitsngravie for reading and supporting me 🥹🥹
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pucksandpower · 6 months
Text
Live Like We Want To
Charles Leclerc x Wolff!Reader x Lewis Hamilton
Summary: there’s only one thing harder than keeping a relationship between two of the paddock’s most prominent figures hidden … keeping a relationship between three of the paddock’s most prominent figures hidden
Warnings: 18+ content
Based on this request
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The drivers settle on the awkwardly shaped white couch, microphones clipped carefully to the collars of their shirts, waiting for the pre-race press conference to begin.
Lewis fiddles with his Mercedes cap, lost in thought. Lando and Daniel banter back and forth, Lando ribbing Daniel about his recent attempts to be artsy on Instagram and Daniel giving as good as he gets.
The moderator steps up to begin the press conference. After a few standard questions about the track and the upgrades the teams have brought, it’s time for the driver questions.
A reporter looks over at Lewis. “Lewis, you and Y/N seem very close lately. There’s been speculation you two might be dating. What do you say about that?”
Lewis opens his mouth but before he can respond, Daniel jumps in. “Oh come on, we all know Lewis is way too old for Y/N! She needs someone younger and spicier.” He winks at the camera.
Lando chuckles. “Too right, mate. Y/N deserves a fun guy who actually knows how to have a good time, not someone almost eligible for a senior discount.”
Lewis forces out a rehearsed laugh. “Hey now, I’m not that old!”
“Face it, the age gap is just too much. She needs someone closer to her own age, like me!” Lando says with a grin.
“You?” Daniel scoffs. “Please, Y/N needs a real man to show her a good time, not some baby-faced kid.”
“Who are you calling a kid?” Lando shoots back. “I’m mature for my age!”
Max, who has been quiet up until now, suddenly pipes up. “Actually, I think Y/N and I would make a great match ...”
The other drivers swivel their heads to look at him. “You?” Daniel says in disbelief.
“Why not?” Max shrugs. “We’ve got a connection.”
Lewis grits his teeth, struggling to stay quiet. He wants to tell them all to back off, that you’re taken. But he knows he can’t reveal the truth about your relationship, as much as it pains him to stay silent.
Lando laughs. “Mate, she’s way out of your league!”
“Oh yeah? I could get her if I wanted to,” Max says defensively.
Daniel grins and claps Max on the back. “Ooh, those are fighting words! You don’t stand a chance.”
Max crosses his arms. “Maybe she likes a bad boy. I’m more exciting than any of you.”
“Exciting? You?” Lando pretends to yawn. “All you ever think about off the track is sim racing! That’s not exciting, it’s dull.”
“Hey! Sim racing is very intense and takes a lot of skill,” Max says indignantly.
Lewis has finally had enough. “Alright guys, maybe we should change the subject. I’m sure Y/N can decide for herself who she wants to spend time with, without all of us bickering over her.”
Lando ignores Lewis and looks back at Max, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “I bet I could get Y/N to go out with me before you can.”
“You’re so on!” Max says.
Daniel shakes his head. “Woah now, let’s leave the poor girl out of your competition. Especially since neither of you have a chance anyway.”
“Oh really? I suppose you think you’re the obvious choice?” Max says sarcastically.
“Obviously!” Daniel replies with a cocky grin.
As the three younger drivers continue with their posturing, Lewis pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling loudly. He catches the moderator’s eye and nods, signaling it’s time to move on.
The moderator clears his throat. “Alright, next question ...”
After the press conference ends, Lewis hurriedly gathers his things. As he’s walking out of the media center, Max catches up to him.
“No hard feelings about all that, mate?” Max says sheepishly.
Lewis musters up a smile. “Of course not. It was all in good fun.”
“Cool.” Max nods. “For what it’s worth, I don’t actually have a thing for Y/N. I was just messing around back there.”
“I know, I know,” Lewis says, clapping Max just a tad too hard on the shoulder before turning to go. Over his shoulder he calls out, “May the best man win!”
Max laughs and shakes his head as Lewis walks away.
Lewis enters the Mercedes garage and immediately spots you chatting with the engineers. His heart skips a beat like it always does when he sees you. A vision in a crop top and skinny jeans, your hair cascading over your shoulders as you lean over a data sheet, nodding intently.
So beautiful.
You glance up and spot Lewis. Your face lights up, a radiant smile spreading across it. Lewis grins back, the stress of the press conference fading away.
He waits until you’re done talking to the engineers, then pulls you discreetly aside. In an empty meeting room, Lewis wraps you in a tight embrace.
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, nuzzling your hair.
You cling to him. “I missed you. How was the press conference?”
Lewis hesitates. “It was … interesting.”
You pull back to look at him curiously. “What do you mean?”
“Well, there were some questions about us. Our relationship.”
Your eyes widen. “What did you say?”
“Nothing! Don’t worry, I didn’t reveal anything. But the other drivers jumped in with their opinions.”
You groan. “Do I even want to know?”
Lewis runs an agitated hand through his hair. “Well, apparently I’m way too old for you. Daniel, Lando, and Max all started competing over who would be your best match.”
You snort. “That’s ridiculous.”
“I know, I know,” Lewis says. “I wanted to tell them you’re mine, but ...”
“You did the right thing keeping quiet,” you say gently, taking his hands in yours. “We knew this wouldn’t be easy, keeping our relationship a secret.”
Lewis sighs. “I just hate not being able to claim you as my girlfriend in public. Having to pretend I don’t care when other guys flirt with you.”
You squeeze his hands supportively. “I know. But my dad would freak if he knew I was dating you. He’s so overprotective. And the press would have a field day if they found out Lewis Hamilton was seeing Toto Wolff’s daughter.”
“You’re right,” Lewis says. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
You smile softly at him. “Just think, one day we won’t have to hide anymore. We’ll be out and proud for the whole world to see.”
Lewis grins. “I look forward to that day.” He pauses, gazing at you tenderly. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you whisper.
Lewis glances around quickly before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. All the stress and frustration of pretending melts away as your lips meet.
You come up for air a few moments later, both flushed. “We should get back before someone notices we’re gone,” you murmur.
Lewis nods reluctantly. “See you after quali?”
“Definitely.” You give him one more quick peck then slip out of the room, back to the bustle of the paddock.
Lewis watches you leave, his heart full.
One day there will be no more hiding. One day you’ll be free to share your love with the world.
He just has to be patient. You’re worth the wait.
***
You’re sitting outside of Mercedes hospitality between practice sessions, chatting with Mick Schumacher. Mick is eagerly telling you about his experience getting to take the W15 out in FP1 that morning when Charles Leclerc wanders over.
“Hello Y/N, Mick,” Charles says with an easy smile.
“Oh hey Charles, what’s up?” You say casually, hoping he makes this quick. Ever since that silly press conference, Charles has been popping up everywhere trying to get your attention.
“Not much. You’re looking beautiful as always,” Charles says, ignoring Mick and focusing his gaze on you.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Um, thanks?”
Mick glances between you two and starts to stand up. “I’ll give you guys some space.”
“No, stay!” You say quickly, grabbing Mick’s arm. You turn back to Charles. “Did you need something?”
“Just wanted to come say hi, see how you’re doing.” Charles drags over a chair and sits down close beside you. Too close.
You slide your chair away ever so slightly. “I’m fine, thanks. Just hanging with Mick.”
Charles nods, but his eyes stay fixed on you. “Have you given any more thought to grabbing dinner sometime? I know this great little restaurant in the city, very private and intimate.”
“That’s really nice of you, but I’ll have to pass,” you say politely. Mick looks back and forth between you two, a faint smirk on his face.
Charles pouts. “Come on, it would be fun! No pressure, just two friends enjoying a nice meal.”
You resist the urge to laugh. Does he really think you’re that naive? “Sorry Charles, but I’m going to be really busy this weekend. Raincheck?” You have no intention of ever taking him up on the offer, but maybe it will get him to back off for now.
“Playing hard to get? I like it,” Charles winks.
You bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying what you really think. Time for a subject change. “So, you feeling good about the race this weekend?”
Charles sighs, finally moving away from the topic of dating you. “I think the car has potential, but Red Bull are still the ones to beat.”
You nod. “Very true. They have been especially dominant here the past few years.”
“We’ll see what happens. Maybe I can get pole and shock them all,” Charles says with a smile.
You chat about racing for a few more minutes before glancing at your phone. “Oh shoot, I have to get going. Meeting with my manager.” You stand up quickly. “See you later Charles. Bye Mick!”
Charles grabs your hand as you start to walk away. “Leaving already? At least let me walk you to your garage.”
You pull your hand back, perhaps a bit too forcefully. “I’m fine, thanks. Stay and chat with Mick!” You give them a little wave before briskly walking off.
As you make your way through the paddock you hear footsteps behind you. Glancing back you see Charles jogging to catch up with you. You bite back a groan.
“Y/N, wait up!” Charles calls after you. He hurries to your side, slightly out of breath. “Sorry, I just thought I should properly apologize for being so forward back there. I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable.”
You stop walking and turn to face him. “It’s okay, Charles. I know you didn’t mean any harm.”
He looks relieved. “Good, I’m glad. The last thing I want is to upset you.” He shuffles his feet, looking down shyly. “I really do think you’re amazing, Y/N. Any guy would be so lucky to be with you.”
You soften a bit. As persistent as he is, you know Charles is a good guy at heart. “Thank you. I think you’ll find the right girl someday.”
“Well, I was rather hoping the right girl was standing in front of me now,” Charles says earnestly.
You shake your head. “Charles ...”
“I know, I’m being too bold again,” he says. “Please, just consider it? One dinner. If you hate it and never want to see me again, I’ll accept that.”
You hesitate. Maybe it would be easier to just go, let him down gently in person. But no … that’s too risky. If word got out it could compromise everything with Lewis. As much as you want to set Charles straight, you just have to keep playing hard to get.
“Like I said, just too busy right now,” you say firmly. “I should get to my meeting.”
Charles nods, looking slightly dejected. “Of course. Well, the offer stands. I’m not giving up that easily.” He smiles and heads off with a small wave.
Over the next two days Charles remains persistent, finding excuses to talk to you in the paddock and complimenting you endlessly on social media. You continue dodging his invitations, letting him down as gently as you can.
Sunday morning you’re doing a photoshoot for British Vogue, posing on the track. Charles happens to walk by as you’re finishing up. He saunters over and leans on the barrier, watching you intently. The photographer notices him hovering and suggests you take a quick picture together.
Charles immediately hops the barrier and throws an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. You plaster on a smile as the camera flashes.
“Beautiful! What an attractive couple,” the photographer gushes.
You extricate yourself from Charles’ grip. “We’re not … I mean we’re just friends,” you mutter.
“My mistake!” The photographer says. Charles just grins.
After the photoshoot ends you try to make a quick exit but Charles catches up and falls into step beside you.
“One picture together and we’re already mistaken for a couple! It must be a sign,” Charles says playfully.
You resist rolling your eyes again. “Clearly you’re not getting the message here. I’m not interested in anything beyond friendship.”
Charles just smiles wider. “Ah, but friendship is the basis for any lasting romance. I’m happy to start as friends and see where it goes.”
You stop walking and turn to him. Time for some straight talk. “Charles. Listen to me. I do not want to date you. At all. Please stop asking.”
Charles’ smile finally falters slightly. “I see. My apologies, I clearly misread the situation.”
You feel a twinge of guilt at his crestfallen face. “It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean any harm. Let’s just forget it and move on.”
Charles nods, looking thoughtful. For a moment you think maybe he’s finally going to back off. But after a pause he says, “Well, since romance is off the table for now, friendship it is.”
You stare at him in disbelief. Is this guy for real?
Oblivious to your incredulous expression, Charles just keeps talking. “The season’s almost over, but I look forward to seeing much more of you next year when Lewis is my new teammate.” He winks.
It takes you a second to process his words. When they sink in your eyes go wide. “Wait, Lewis is joining Ferrari next season?”
“Oh, has it not been announced yet?” Charles grins mischievously. “My mistake. Forget I said anything.”
You grab his arm. “Charles, tell me!”
He mimes zipping his lips.
You groan in frustration. “Ugh, fine. Keep your secret for now.” You’ll get the truth out of Lewis later.
Charles just smiles innocently. “See you around, friend.” He strolls off with a little wave, finally leaving you in peace.
You shake your head as you watch him go. Next year is sure to be interesting with Charles around. But you take comfort knowing that no matter what, you and Lewis can get through it together.
***
The 2025 season kicks off in Melbourne. You’re wandering the paddock under the bright Australian sun, dodging TV crews and trying not to get run over by the team scooters zipping every which way.
As you pass by the Ferrari garage you peek inside, spotting Lewis talking to some engineers. He glances up and meets your eye, giving you a subtle smile before returning to his conversation.
Your heart flutters at the sight of him. It’s been nonstop media obligations since arriving in Albert Park and you haven’t had a moment alone with Lewis yet. Between his big move to Ferrari and the speculation about your relationship, you’ve been the center of attention.
You linger nearby, hoping to snag a private moment with Lewis. As you hover just outside the garage you hear footsteps approaching. Glancing over you see Charles strolling up, looking effortlessly cool in his team kit.
“Well hello there,” Charles says with a grin. “Come to wish me luck before qualifying?”
You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling back. “You caught me. I snuck over to send positive vibes your way.”
Charles chuckles. “I knew you couldn’t resist coming to see me.”
You shake your head amusedly. Same old Charles. “Actually I was looking for Lew-” you stop yourself just in time. “Um, just wandering around saying hi to everyone!”
Charles’ eyes gleam knowingly but he doesn’t call you out on your near slip-up. “Of course. We’re happy to have Lewis join the Ferrari family. Should be a fun season.”
You nod. “Definitely. I might have to frequent the Ferrari garage more often,” you add teasingly.
“You’ll always be welcome here,” Charles says. “In fact, there’s an open seat on my side of the garage. You’re more than welcome to join.” He smiles invitingly.
You hesitate, tempted despite yourself. Before you can respond you hear Lewis calling Charles from inside the garage.
“Charles! The debrief is starting soon, let’s go.”
Charles turns back to you with an exaggerated sigh. “Duty calls. But think about my offer, yeah? Plenty of races left this season for you to cheer on your favorite driver.” He winks before jogging into the garage.
You catch Lewis’ eye as Charles brushes past him. Lewis gives you a questioning look, silently asking if you’re okay. You smile reassuringly before blowing him a subtle kiss and walking away.
Over the next few races you find yourself spending more time with Ferrari than you expected. You tell yourself it’s just to support Lewis in his first season with a new team, but a small voice in your head whispers that it’s really to see Charles.
Despite your better judgment, you can’t deny enjoying Charles’ flirty banter and shameless pursuit of you. And clearly he doesn’t intend to back down now that Lewis is his teammate. If anything, Charles seems more determined than ever to win your affection.
By the time the Chinese Grand Prix rolls around, you’re dangerously close to having a full blown crush on Charles. Sitting in the Ferrari garage watching him joke around with the mechanics, you have to refrain from staring at him too obviously.
After qualifying, you wait around hoping Lewis or Charles have time to sneak away for a bit. You spot Lewis first and flag him down. He follows you to a secluded spot behind the paddock.
“Great lap today,” you say, rising on tiptoes to kiss him congratulations.
Lewis smiles against your lips but you can tell his mind is elsewhere. “Thanks love. Listen, can we talk?”
You pull back, brow furrowing in concern. “Of course, what’s up?”
Lewis runs a hand over his face. “I wanted to ask how you’re feeling about this whole situation with Charles.”
You tense up slightly. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen the way he looks at you. And if I’m being honest … I’ve noticed some looks going the other direction as well.” Lewis keeps his voice neutral and non-accusatory.
You bite your lip. No point lying to him. “I’m sorry. I tried to ignore him at first but he’s just so charming and persistent. I swear nothing has happened between us though!” You add hastily.
Lewis rubs your shoulder reassuringly. “I believe you, don’t worry. But it seems there might be some mutual attraction there, even if you haven’t acted upon it. I think we should discuss that openly.”
You nod slowly. As nerve wracking as this conversation is, you appreciate Lewis’ calm approach. No jealousy or accusations, just honest communication.
“You’re right,” you say. “I’ve been trying really hard not to, but I can’t deny feeling drawn to Charles.” You look down, ashamed to admit it out loud.
Lewis lifts your chin gently. “Hey, it’s okay. Emotions aren’t always rational. I’m not upset with you.”
You smile gratefully. “You’re the best, you know that? What did I do to deserve someone so understanding?”
“Just got lucky I guess,” Lewis says with a wink, making you laugh. His expression turns serious again. “But we should figure out what to do moving forward. Any ideas?”
You take a deep breath. Time to put all cards on the table. “Well, there is one possibility. But it’s a bit unconventional ...”
Lewis raises his eyebrows. “I’m open to anything. What were you thinking?”
You rush out your words before you lose your nerve. “What if we brought Charles into the relationship? As in, invited him to be with us?”
Lewis’ eyes widen in surprise but he doesn’t immediately shoot down the suggestion. “You mean the three of us, together? Huh.”
He looks thoughtful. You fidget nervously awaiting his verdict. This could make or break everything.
Finally Lewis meets your anxious gaze. “I admit that’s not what I was envisioning … but I’m not opposed to at least exploring it.”
You breathe a sigh of relief. “Really? You’d be open to trying?”
Lewis nods slowly. “If we all discussed it openly and set clear boundaries, I would consider it. I want you to be happy, Y/N. Even if that means expanding our relationship.”
You throw your arms around him. “Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to have your support with this.”
Lewis hugs you tight. “Of course, love. We’re in this together.”
You chat excitedly about the possibility of bringing Charles into your private world. It’s risky, but maybe just crazy enough to work.
“Why don’t we invite him up to the penthouse tonight and see how the chemistry is?” Lewis suggests.
Your pulse quickens at the thought. “I think that’s a great idea.”
Lewis kisses you softly. “Alright then, it’s a date. I think you should go talk to Charles.”
Tonight will determine if you move forward as a trio or close the door on this tantalizing new dynamic. Either way, you’re grateful to be exploring it together with the man you love.
***
You smooth down your dress for the tenth time, nerves and excitement warring within you.
Tonight’s the night.
Taking a deep breath, you glance around the penthouse one more time. Candles cast a soft glow, music plays quietly in the background, and wine chills on the counter. Time to see if this fantasy can become a reality.
Lewis emerges from the bedroom looking unfairly hot, designer shirt hugging his muscular frame. He wraps you in his arms from behind, meeting your anxious gaze in the floor-length mirror.
“You ready for this, love?” He asks, lips brushing your neck.
You shiver and lean back into him. “I think so. Are you sure you’re okay with it though? We can call it off if you’ve changed your mind.”
Lewis smiles reassuringly. “I haven’t. We’ll take it slow and see how it feels. No pressure.”
You smile back gratefully. “Have I mentioned lately how amazing you are?”
“Mm, feel free to say it more,” Lewis teases, making you giggle. He kisses you tenderly. “Let’s do this.”
Right on cue, the doorbell rings. You and Lewis exchange one more weighted look before going to answer it.
You open the door to find Charles standing there, looking ridiculously handsome as always. His eyes widen almost comically as he sees Lewis over your shoulder.
“Lewis! What are you doing here?” Charles stammers out.
You bite your lip to hide a smile. “Why don’t you come in?”
Still looking baffled, Charles steps inside. You lead him to the sleek living room, Charles glancing around in confusion.
“Have a seat,” Lewis says kindly. Charles perches on the edge of the grey suede couch, visibly wondering what the hell is going on. You and Lewis sit across from him on the loveseat.
“So … is one of you going to explain what’s happening?” Charles asks slowly.
You look to Lewis. “Maybe you should start?”
Lewis nods and turns to Charles. “Right, so I’m sure you’re very confused about all this. But there’s something Y/N and I need to tell you.”
He reaches over and takes your hand. You give it a supportive squeeze.
“Y/N and I are together. Romantically,” Lewis reveals. “We’ve been dating in secret for over two years now.”
Charles’ eyes bug out of his head. “You two are … WHAT? Since when?”
“Since midway through the 2022 season,” you explain gently.
“But … but ...” Charles splutters. He looks between you and Lewis, dumbfounded. It would be comical if you weren’t so nervous.
“I know this must be shocking to hear,” you say. “We’ve had to keep it very quiet.”
Charles drags a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand. If you’re together, why am I here?”
You glance at Lewis. “Go on,” he says with an encouraging nod.
You turn back to Charles. “Well, the thing is … we’re very attracted to you too, Charles.”
Charles freezes, eyes zeroing in on you. “You … you are?” He whispers.
You nod, holding his gaze. “I tried to ignore it, but I have feelings for you. And Lewis and I have discussed exploring what it would be like if the three of us … were together.”
Charles just stares, mouth agape. You start to worry you’ve broken him.
“Charles?” You prompt gently. “Thoughts?”
Charles visibly shakes himself. “I just … I need a minute here,” he mutters. He puts his head in his hands, taking a few deep breaths.
You nod understandingly and fall silent, letting the information sink in. After a tense minute, Charles lifts his head.
“So you two want to try some kind of … polyamorous relationship? With me as your shared boyfriend?”
“Only if you’re interested,” Lewis clarifies. “We know it’s unconventional.”
Charles chews his lip thoughtfully. “And you would be okay sharing her?” He asks Lewis.
Lewis squeezes your hand. “It’s not about possessing her. It’s about all of us wanting to explore something together. I trust you both.”
Your heart swells with love for this incredible man. Charles looks touched as well.
“I appreciate you putting your trust in me,” Charles says earnestly. “This is a lot to process but … I’m open to trying.” He looks between you and Lewis. “I want this. If you’ll have me.”
Joy and arousal flood your body hearing those words. You glance at Lewis to confirm.
He smiles. “We want you, Charles.”
Charles’ eyes darken. He stands up from the couch and closes the distance between you. Gazing down at you, he brushes his fingers along your jaw. “Can I kiss you?” He asks softly.
You nod, heart hammering in your chest. Charles’ hand slides into your hair and he presses his lips to yours. The kiss is electric, your body lighting up everywhere you touch.
After a dizzying minute you break apart, flushed and breathless. Charles rests his forehead against yours, his eyes burning.
“I want you,” he whispers. “I want this.”
Your pulse racing, you turn and pull Lewis into a passionate kiss. You pour all your need and love into it, leaving no doubt that you want him just as much.
Lewis’ eyes are dark when you separate. Without a word, he stands and holds his hand out to Charles. Charles takes it immediately. They stare at each other for a weighted moment before Lewis reels him in for a searing kiss.
You can only watch, utterly mesmerized by the sight of the two gorgeous men exploring each other. They kiss aggressively, hands roaming over backs and arms. Finally they break apart, panting.
Charles turns to you, eyes blazing. In two strides he’s kneeling before you, hands on your thighs.
“Tell me you want this,” he rasps out. “I need to hear you say it.”
“I want this. I want this so much,” you affirm breathlessly.
Charles surges up to capture your lips again. Lewis moves behind you, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders. Sandwiched between them, you’ve never felt more alive.
You have a fleeting thought that you should slow down, take things step by step. But as their hands and lips worship your body, reason melts away.
Tonight you’ll explore each other fully and forge this new bond that transcends convention. Tomorrow you can discuss logistics.
Charles kisses you hungrily while Lewis deftly unzips your dress, letting it slip to the floor. His hands glide over your newly exposed skin as Charles trails kisses down your neck to your lace-clad breasts.
Lewis reaches around to unclasp your bra, freeing your breasts to Charles’ eager mouth. You gasp and arch into his touch as his tongue swirls around one nipple, then the other.
Lewis captures your lips in a passionate kiss, swallowing your moans of pleasure. His hands roam your body, caressing your hips and rear before slipping into your panties. You keen against his mouth as his fingers find your slick heat.
Charles kisses his way down your trembling body until he’s kneeling before you. Locking eyes with you, he slowly peels off your panties. Lewis moves behind you, arms wrapped around you, hands still working their magic between your legs.
Charles parts your thighs and dives in hungrily. You cry out at the feeling of his mouth on you, the dual sensations pushing you quickly to the edge. Your pleasured screams echo through the penthouse as you come undone between these two incredible men.
They lay you gently on the plush rug, hands and mouths continuing to ignite fires across your hypersensitive skin. You reach for them frantically, needing to feel them too. Together you undress them with eager hands until all three of you are bare and flushed with need.
Lewis kisses his way down your body until his head is between your legs, stubble scratching deliciously against your inner thighs. His talented tongue gets to work, licking and sucking your sensitive bud as you grasp his braids, back arching off the rug.
Charles moves up your body to take a hard nipple in his mouth, fingers tweaking and plucking the other. The near-overstimulation makes you see stars, crying out louder as Lewis’ fingers join his mouth in driving you to euphoria.
As you come down from your high, panting and trembling, Charles captures your lips in a messy kiss. You taste yourself and your favorite body oil on his tongue as he grinds his hard length against your hip. Guiding him up further, you take him in your mouth eagerly, reveling in his groans of pleasure.
Lewis slides up behind you, hardness nudging your entrance. He pushes into you slowly, filling you up exquisitely. You moan around Charles in your mouth as Lewis sets a steady rhythm. Charles’ eyes are nearly black watching Lewis take you from behind.
Charles gently pulls out of your mouth, moving down to kiss Lewis passionately. Their tongues tangle as Lewis continues rocking into you. The erotic sight makes you clench around Lewis. Sensing you’re close, he reaches around to circle your clit until you shatter again.
As you float back down, Lewis slips out from behind you and lays on his back. You straddle him eagerly, taking him back inside your slick heat. Charles moves in behind you, grasping your hips. Feeling his tip brush your back entrance, you glance back and nod consent.
Charles pushes into your other hole slowly as Lewis praises you for taking them both so well. Sandwiched between their hard bodies, filled so exquisitely, you feel worshipped and desired. They find a synchronized rhythm, driving you higher until you’re screaming out your pleasure again.
Lewis follows you over the edge, your pulsing muscles milking him dry with a growl. Charles takes over, pounding into you relentlessly until he stills, spilling deep inside with a choked cry.
You collapse together in a satisfied, breathless tangle of limbs. Trading soft kisses and caresses, you bask in the afterglow of this new bond forged in passion. Staring into your boys’ sated eyes, you know you’ve found something extraordinary.
For now, you are content to let passion consume you, losing yourself in two sets of hands, two mouths worshipping every inch of you.
Tomorrow can wait. Tonight, your world has expanded to make room for three.
***
The new season is in full swing and your blossoming relationship could not be going better. Stealing moments alone is a challenge, but the time you spend together makes it all worthwhile.
The only downside is how difficult it is for Charles to hide his feelings for you in public. While Lewis has had practice concealing your relationship for years now, Charles is still learning restraint. His affection for you shines through in lingering looks and subtle touches that don’t go unnoticed.
During one pre-race press conference, things come to a head. You’re standing just off stage, watching proudly as Charles and Lewis field questions.
A reporter looks over at Charles. “Charles, we’ve noticed Y/N hanging around the Ferrari garage a lot this season. Any insight into why the daughter of the Mercedes team principal spends so much time with your team instead?”
Charles tenses, panic flashing across his face. Before he can respond, Pierre Gasly pipes up from the end of the table.
“She’s always welcome to spend time with Alpine too!” Pierre says with a playful wink your direction. “Our garage door is open for you anytime, chérie.”
Charles’ hand clenches into a fist under the table. You can see him biting his tongue, holding back from saying that you’re taken.
Lewis discretely reaches over and lays a calming hand on Charles’ arm. Charles takes a deep breath, the brief touch grounding him.
“Y/N is friends with many drivers, not just myself,” Charles says evenly. “She offers encouragement to everyone on the grid.”
You let out the breath you’d been holding. Crisis averted, for now. But the reporters look unsatisfied with Charles’ generic response.
One speaks up again. “Come on Charles, you two seem especially close lately. Anything you want to tell us about the nature of your relationship?”
Charles’ eyes flick towards you. He opens his mouth but hesitates.
Lewis jumps in. “Like Charles said, Y/N is a supportive friend to all the drivers. We’re lucky to have her around.” He steers the conversation to less dangerous waters and the questions about you cease.
After the press conference, Charles makes a beeline for you. Taking your hands, he searches your face anxiously.
“I’m so sorry. I nearly slipped up and exposed everything. I just couldn’t stand Pierre flirting with you like that.”
You smile reassuringly, touched by his protectiveness. “It’s okay, you stopped yourself in time. I know it’s not easy.”
Lewis joins you two in your hidden corner. He squeezes Charles’ shoulder comfortingly. “You handled it well, babe. I know firsthand how hard it is to stay silent.”
Charles sighs. “I don’t know how you’ve done this for so long. Lying about the woman I lo-” He stops himself. “About someone so important is torture.”
Your heart skips a beat. Lewis meets your gaze, equally affected by Charles’ unspoken words.
Taking Charles’ face in your hands, you kiss him sweetly. “I’m so lucky to have not just one, but two incredible men willing to go through all this for my sake. I promise, it won’t be forever.”
Charles relaxes into your touch. Lewis moves behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing the top of your head. Charles covers Lewis’ hands with his own. The three of you share a quiet, tender moment before stepping back out into the bustle of race day.
That evening after the race, the three of you finally have time alone back at the hotel. Lewis pours champagne while you massage the tension from Charles’ shoulders.
“What Pierre said today was out of line,” you murmur. “But you have nothing to worry about. I’m all yours, in every way that matters.” You press a kiss to his neck.
Charles twists to capture your lips. “I know. It just drives me crazy seeing other men try to take what’s mine.” His tone is playful yet possessive in a way that makes you shiver.
“Let them flirt all they want,” Lewis says, handing Charles a glass of champagne. “She only has eyes for us.”
You and Charles both smile at Lewis’ quiet confidence. Taking your glass, you raise it in a toast. “To the apples of my eye. Here’s to a long future together.”
You clink glasses and sip, eyes locking over the rims. Setting your glass aside, you take each of their hands in yours.
“I know keeping this secret isn’t easy. But it will be so worth it in the end, when we can stop hiding and be together openly. We just have to be patient a little longer.”
Lewis squeezes your hand, emotion shining in his eyes. “You’re worth the wait, darling.”
Charles cradles your face adoringly. “A thousand times over.”
Your heart swells being surrounded by such unwavering love and support. Despite the challenges, in this moment, everything feels exactly as it should.
The rest of the night is spent getting lost in each other, reaffirming the bonds between you. Fingers intertwined, bodies moving as one, you bask in the oasis you’ve created amidst the pressures of your public lives.
Tomorrow you’ll go back to pretending, dodging prying questions and curious stares. But here, cocooned in this hotel room, you’re simply three people entwined by love. Partners promising without words to stand united until the day your relationship can step into the light.
For now, secrecy is a small price to pay for a love unlike any other.
***
The azure waters of the Mediterranean glisten under the Sardinian sun as you lounge on the deck of the yacht. Lewis rubs sunscreen slowly over your shoulders, his touch sending tingles through your body.
Charles emerges from the water, rivulets streaming down his toned chest. He joins you on the loungers, shaking his wet hair playfully over you and Lewis. You squeal and swat him away, laughing.
These past two weeks sailing around Sardinia have been pure bliss. Finally you can be as affectionate as you want, stealing kisses and cuddling close without worrying who might see. You’ve explored every inch of this yacht and each other’s bodies. After keeping your relationship under wraps, it’s glorious being so free.
“I wish we could stay here forever,” you sigh contentedly.
“Soon, love,” Lewis says, pulling you close. “Just have to get through this season.”
Charles nods, trailing his fingers down your arm. “It will all be worth it in the end.”
You smile softly at them both, heart swelling with love. “You’re right. As long as we’re together.”
You while away the rest of the afternoon trading lazy kisses and caresses, basking in the sun and each other.
That night, fireworks burst bright over the inky sea. You tilt your head back against Charles’ chest, watching the rainbow sparks. Lewis nuzzles your neck from behind, arms wrapped around your waist.
“I love you both,” you whisper as gold and purple light up the sky. Charles kisses your temple while Lewis squeezes you gently. You’ve never felt so full of love and joy.
Then, you all fly to Lewis’ villa in Brazil for the rest of summer break. The days pass in a carefree blur — lounging by the pool, sunset walks on the beach, and passion-filled nights tangled together in bed.
Charles cooks dinner shirtless one evening, playfully feeding you and Lewis bites as you sip wine. Lewis pulls you into an impromptu dance around the kitchen, the three of you laughing breathlessly.
“If only this could never end,” you say wistfully, pulling them in for a group hug.
“One day, baby,” Lewis murmurs, kissing your hair. Charles rubs your back, gazing at you tenderly.
You etch every moment into your memory, from languid mornings waking up between them to romantic picnics at sunset on the beach.
If only you could freeze time and stay in this private paradise.
But of course, time marches on. Before you know it, the break ends and you’re headed to the Netherlands for the start of the second half of the season.
Walking through Zandvoort a friendly distance from Charles and Lewis, everything feels different now. You have to stop yourself from being too openly affectionate, hyperaware of prying eyes.
Lewis senses your tension. “Soon this will all be out in the open,” he reminds you softly. The secret aspect still weighs on you all, but the promise of a future without hiding lifts your spirits.
On Thursday, just a few days before the race, you’re leaving the motorhome when your phone explodes with notifications. With a sinking sense of dread, you open social media to see leaked paparazzi shots plastered everywhere — the three of you kissing on the yacht, Lewis’ hands blatantly grabbing your rear in Brazil, you and Charles making out poolside.
You stagger back against the wall, blood rushing in your ears. This is a nightmare. Your private oasis shattered, your relationship outed in the most public, scandalous way possible.
Charles exits behind you and his face pales seeing your expression. Lewis comes around the corner a second later and you wordlessly show him your phone screen.
“Fuck,” Lewis swears. “Where did these come from?”
“I don’t know, they’re everywhere,” you say shakily.
Charles peers over your shoulder, jaw clenched. “We’ll figure it out later. Right now we need to get you out of here.”
You’re confused only for a second before you hear the swell of voices and footsteps rapidly approaching. Security won’t hold the media mob back for long.
Charles and Lewis spring into action, flanking you protectively as you hurry back towards the entrance. Halfway there, the dam breaks as reporters and cameras flood the paddock. You freeze like a deer in headlights.
Chaos erupts, cameras flashing, mics shoved in your faces, everyone shouting questions at once. Charles and Lewis shield you from the onslaught, yelling for security. Two guards appear and help navigate you through the frenzy back into the Ferrari motorhome.
You collapse on the sofa, heart pounding. Lewis paces angrily while Charles punches the wall. “Fuck! We were so careful,” he rages.
You blink back panicked tears. “What do we do now?”
Lewis sits and pulls you into his arms. “We face it head on. No more hiding. We own this together.”
Charles kneels before you, clasping your hands. “I’m with you no matter what. We’ll get through this.”
You cling to them, anchoring yourself. As long as you have each other, you can survive the storm.
You’ve just managed to catch your breath when the door flies open. Your head whips up to see none other than your father storming in, fury etched on his face.
“What the HELL is going on here?” He thunders.
You shrink back against Lewis. This is already a disaster — but your enraged, overprotective father finding out like this? You brace yourself as his glare pins you in place, demanding an explanation.
Toto slams the door behind him, eyes blazing like you’ve never seen before.
“Would someone like to explain what the hell is going on?” He shouts. “Because I leave for a few weeks and suddenly my daughter is splashed all over the tabloids in compromising photos with her secret boyfriends!”
You shrink back against Lewis, tears pooling in your eyes. He wraps a protective arm around you.
“Toto, let’s all just take a breath and talk about this,” Lewis says calmly.
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” Toto snarls, pointing a finger at Lewis. “You are supposed to be teammates and instead you’re … you’re ...” He splutters, at a loss for words.
“We’re in a relationship,” Charles says firmly, taking your hand. “The three of us.”
“A relationship?” Toto looks apoplectic. “She is my daughter!”
“Who makes her own choices,” Charles shoots back. “She’s an adult.”
Toto ignores him, glaring at Lewis and you. “I trusted you with her. And this is how you repay that trust?”
Lewis squeezes your shoulder gently before standing up to face Toto. “I understand you’re upset. But our relationship isn’t about you.”
“The hell it isn’t!” Toto shouts. “I am her father!”
“Stop yelling at them!” You cry out, tears spilling down your cheeks.
Toto falters slightly seeing your distress. Charles pulls you into his arms, stroking your hair and glaring at Toto.
“Can’t you see you’re upsetting her?” Charles snaps. “She doesn’t owe you an explanation.”
Toto looks back and forth between the three of you, anger warring with confusion. Lewis takes a cautious step toward him.
“I know this is a shock,” Lewis says evenly. “But we didn’t intend for it to come out like this.”
He gestures for Toto to have a seat. After a tense moment Toto sinks into the armchair, face still thunderous. Lewis sits back down beside you.
“Help me understand this,” Toto says tightly. “Clearly this … arrangement has been going on behind my back for some time.”
You take a shaky breath. “We’ve been together since the start of the season. I’m sorry we didn’t tell you, but we knew you would react badly.”
Toto drags a hand down his face. “You cannot expect me to be happy about this. My daughter dating two men at once? One of whom used to be my employee?”
“We don’t need your approval,” Charles says firmly. “All that matters is that we love each other. Right?”
He looks at you and Lewis. You both nod, Lewis taking your hand supportively.
“She’s right,” Lewis tells Toto. “We don’t need your blessing. But we want you to understand this is real, not just some fling or scandal.”
You look pleadingly at your father. “Please Vati, try to understand. I’ve never been happier than with these two.”
Toto stares back stonily. The silence stretches on. You feel Charles and Lewis tense on either side of you, bracing for Toto’s wrath.
Finally Toto sighs, dragging a hand over his face. “You’ve always been my sweet girl. My only wish is for your happiness and safety.”
He levels Charles and Lewis with a piercing look. “If either of you two hurts her, they’ll never find your bodies. Understand?”
Charles and Lewis both nod rapidly.
“We would never,” Lewis vows.
“Good. See that you don’t.” Toto turns back to you, expression softening. “This will take some adjustment. But I suppose if you’re happy ...”
“I am, I promise,” you assure him.
Toto shakes his head. “Well, try to keep the sordid details to yourself please.”
You huff out a wet laugh, wiping your eyes. “Deal.”
Toto nods stiffly and stands. Looking between the three of you, his face settles into resignation.
“I will do my best to … adjust to this,” he mutters. “But no funny business at the track!”
He points sternly at Charles and Lewis again. They both work to keep straight faces.
“Of course, totally professional at all times,” Lewis promises solemnly.
“Hmm. We’ll see.” Toto heads for the door. With his hand on the handle, he turns back.
“You’re still my little girl. I just want you safe and happy.”
You smile tearfully. “I know. Thank you.”
With a grunt and final glare at Charles and Lewis, Toto takes his leave.
The moment the door shuts, you collapse into their arms in relief. Laughing and crying all at once.
“That could have gone worse,” Charles remarks.
Lewis chuckles. “He only threatened us a little bit.”
You kiss them softly. “I can’t believe you stood up to him for me.”
Charles caresses your face. “Always.”
“We meant what we said — we’re in this together, no matter what,” Lewis affirms.
You cling to each other, coming down from the emotional rollercoaster. The worst is over. Your relationship is out in the open now. The media will have a field day, but you can weather any storm with your men by your side.
“So ...” you say with a watery laugh. “Who wants to handle the press release?”
***
The news of your relationship with Lewis and Charles has sent shockwaves through the paddock. You knew it would be a scandal, but the sheer scale of the reaction has been overwhelming.
Thankfully you’ve had each other to cling to through the firestorm. Their love and support keeps you strong in the face of snarling reporters and leering drivers.
In the Ferrari garage a few days later, Lewis has his arms wrapped around you, placing gentle kisses to your hair as you discuss weekend plans. Charles is in the engineering room, focused on prep for the upcoming race.
The two of you are in your own world together when Lando sheepishly approaches. "Hey mates, can I talk to you both for a sec?"
You tense instinctively and Lewis’ arm tightens around you protectively. But Lando’s face is regretful, not leering. “What’s up?” Lewis asks calmly.
Lando shuffles his feet. “I just wanted to apologize for all the times I hit on Y/N and crossed the line. I feel proper ashamed about it now that I know she was with you two. You deserve better from a friend.”
You and Lewis share a surprised look. Before you can respond, Pierre joins Lando, gazing at you repentantly.
“I want to also apologize,” Pierre says. “It was wrong of me to overstep boundaries and disrespect your relationship. I’m sorry.”
You bite your tongue, holding back what you really want to say. As usual, they’re ignoring you and directing apologies to Lewis instead.
Sensing your reaction, Lewis speaks up. “We appreciate you owning up to it, but I think Y/N deserves your apologies more. She’s the one you objectified and disrespected with the unwanted advances, after all.”
Lando and Pierre have the decency to look abashed. “You’re completely right, that was thoughtless of me,” Lando says. “I’m truly sorry for ever making you feel uncomfortable or pressured, Y/N. It won’t happen again.”
Pierre nods. “Please accept my sincere apologies as well. I should have been more considerate of your feelings and respected your privacy.”
You give them a stiff smile. “Thank you. Just please think about how your words and actions affect women as fellow human beings, not just as conquests or property.”
Lando and Pierre both nod earnestly before excusing themselves. As they walk away Lewis kisses your temple. “Well handled, love. How are you feeling?”
You sigh heavily. “I appreciate the apologies, but it still stings that they only considered your feelings initially, not mine.”
Lewis makes a sympathetic noise and hugs you close. “You deserve so much more respect. I’m sorry this has all been so ugly.”
You cling to him, drawing strength from his unwavering support. “As long as I have you and Charles, I can face anything.”
Lewis is about to reply when footsteps approach again. You tense, but it’s only Charles this time. His smile fades seeing your expression.
“Everything okay here?” He asks, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You explain what just happened with Lando and Pierre. Charles’ eyes flash. “They are lucky I wasn’t here. I would have had a thing or two to say about them disrespecting you like that.”
You smile softly, touched by his protectiveness. “My heroes. However would I cope without you two defending my honor?”
Lewis tickles your side playfully. “We have to protect our lady’s virtue!”
You swat him away, laughing. Charles kisses the top of your head. “Joking aside, you never have to tolerate that behavior again. Not with us here.”
“I know,” you reply, snuggling into them happily. "My gallant protectors."
***
“Home sweet home,” you declare as the car pulls up the long driveway to your family’s sprawling Swiss estate.
Lewis lets out an impressed whistle from the backseat. “This is incredible!”
“Just wait until you see inside,” you grin at him in the rearview mirror.
You had kept putting off bringing Lewis and Charles here but it was finally time for them to see where you grew up.
They grab your bags as you lead them inside the grand foyer with its sweeping marble staircase. Lewis and Charles gaze around, taking in the ornate moldings and priceless artwork adorning the walls.
“I know it’s a bit ... much,” you say self-consciously.
“Are you kidding? This place is amazing!” Lewis crows, his voice echoing off the high ceilings.
You give them a brief tour of the endless sitting rooms, home theater, indoor pool, and your father’s meticulously organized garage housing his impressive car collection.
Finally you bring them upstairs to the family bedrooms. With a deep breath, you push open the door to your childhood room.
Lewis and Charles follow you in, peering around with interest at the spacious suite with its canopy bed, plush seating area, and panoramic mountain views.
You watch nervously as Lewis wanders over to your bookshelf and Charles admires the view from the French doors. Waiting for their judgment, you feel self-conscious about your privileged upbringing.
Suddenly Charles points to your wall and turns to you with a grin. “Well well, what do we have here?”
You follow his gaze to the life-size posters still occupying prime real estate on your wall, relics from your starry-eyed teen years. A young Lewis from his early Mercedes days gazes broodingly down, next to a smirking teenage Charles in his Prema race suit from back in F2.
“Oh god, I can’t believe I forgot those were there!” You groan, covering your rapidly reddening face.
Lewis chuckles, coming over to wrap you in a hug. “Aww, someone had a little crush, did they?” He teases.
“It was years ago!” You protest through your fingers.
Charles pries your hands away, smiling affectionately. “It’s cute you were our fan. Never be embarrassed for having good taste in drivers,” he winks.
Lewis kisses the top of your head. “Don’t worry love, we won’t give you too hard a time about it,” he says magnanimously.
You snuggle into his embrace. “How lucky am I to have manifested my crushes into reality?”
“The lucky ones are us,” Charles murmurs, stroking your hair and kissing you tenderly.
Lewis tips your chin up to meet his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You cling to each other, the outside world fading away.
Eventually you lead them hand-in-hand to your massive bedroom balcony overlooking the mountains. The summer air is fragrant with the smell of wildflowers.
Settled together on the cushions, you snuggle between Lewis and Charles as they take in the stunning panoramic views.
“It’s so beautiful and peaceful here,” Lewis sighs contentedly. “Thank you for bringing us with you.”
You squeeze his hand. “Thank you for wanting to know every part of me.”
Charles wraps an arm around you, meeting your eyes sincerely. “Of course we do. Your soul is what we fell in love with first and foremost.”
You have to blink back tears at his words. Being with them has taught you that real love runs far deeper than surface trappings.
Overwhelmed with emotion, you pull them close, kissing each with all the love and gratitude overflowing inside you.
As the sun dips behind the mountains, setting the sky ablaze in stunning hues of orange and purple, you curl up safely between the two men who see, know, and love the real you. The only home you’ll ever need.
***
The warmly lit dining room of your family estate is filled with the clink of silverware and hum of conversation as you share an intimate dinner with your father, stepmother Susie, younger brother Jack, and your loves.
Despite your anxiety, the evening has gone smoothly so far. Toto seems impressed with Lewis and Charles’ maturity and devotion to you. Susie dotes on them like a surrogate mother. Only Jack seems bored, pushing food around his plate.
During a lull in the conversation, Toto turns to Lewis. “It’s remarkable what you are accomplishing at Ferrari this season. Good to see you on top of the podium again.”
Lewis smiles. “Thank you, Toto. It’s been incredible.”
“Still, I was surprised when you first told me you were leaving Mercedes,” Toto remarks. “I didn’t fully understand what prompted such a sudden departure.”
He levels Lewis with a probing gaze. You freeze nervously, grasping Charles and Lewis’ hands under the table. You’ve managed to avoid telling your father the real reason for Lewis’ change in teams. But it seems that reckoning has arrived.
Lewis meets Toto’s scrutinizing look evenly. “Well, as you know, Mercedes has strict rules against relationships within the team. It began impeding my personal happiness. So I sought more freedom elsewhere.”
Toto’s eyes narrow, glancing between the three of you. “And when exactly did this personal happiness begin?”
You hold your breath. Lewis says simply, “During my third to last season with the team.”
There’s a long, fraught silence. Jack glances around confused while Susie presses her napkin to her lips, no doubt hiding a small smile. She’s always been your most enthusiastic supporter.
Toto’s face slowly turns an alarming shade of eggplant purple. He points an accusatory finger at Lewis. “You! You were already involved with my daughter during your Mercedes contract?”
Lewis nods calmly. “We couldn’t be public about it then. Your rules left us no choice but secrecy.”
Toto turns his glare on you. “So while I was managing Lewis’ negotiations, you were ... were ...” He seems unable to form the words.
You lift your chin. “Yes, Vati. We’ve been together since mid-2022. I’m sorry we couldn’t be honest about it at the time.”
Toto looks back and forth between you and Lewis, jaw clenched. The whole table is frozen, awaiting the eruption.
Finally Toto thrusts his chair back and begins pacing angrily. “This whole time ... right under my nose! With my star driver, in clear violation of team rules and ethics!”
He rounds on Lewis. “I treated you like family! Supported your career, fought for your contracts. And you betrayed me by sneaking around with my daughter behind my back!”
Lewis faces Toto’s tirade calmly. “I apologize for any perceived deception. But we couldn’t deny our hearts.”
He takes your hand, gazing at you adoringly. Charles clutches your other in solidarity.
Toto drags a hand down his face. “Unbelievable. I thought I knew you, Hamilton.”
Finally you can't stay quiet any longer. “Vati, stop,” you implore. “I know you’re upset, but don’t blame Lewis. We fell in love, simple as that.”
Toto sighs, looking between your determined face and Lewis’ sincerity. His anger slowly deflates.
“Bärchen, you will always be my little girl,” he says gruffly. “I just want to protect you.”
He turns back to Lewis and Charles. “But I can see you both genuinely care for her. That’s all that matters in the end.”
You smile hopefully. “So you’re okay with this?”
Toto holds up a hand. “Let’s not get carried away. I am still adjusting to the idea.” He narrows his eyes at Lewis and Charles. “No messing about, you hear me? My girl deserves the utmost love and respect.”
“Of course,” Lewis says seriously as Charles nods in agreement.
“Good. See that it stays that way.” Toto sits back down with a huff. An awkward beat passes before conversation resumes again.
Later, as you all say goodnight, Toto pulls you into a hug. “They really make you happy, hmm?”
You nod, eyes shining. “Beyond words.”
Toto pats your cheek affectionately. “Well then, I suppose that’s what matters.”
You kiss his cheek in gratitude. No matter how overprotective your father can be, you know he just wants you safe and loved. With Lewis and Charles by your side, you always will be.
***
Seven Years Later
The Ferrari garage is buzzing with activity as race day gets underway at the Italian Grand Prix. You stand with Lewis among the controlled chaos, keeping one eye on your enthusiastic children weaving through the mechanics’ legs.
“Be careful, Lou!” You call out as your daring five-year-old Louis takes a corner a little too sharply, his Ferrari cap nearly sliding off his wild wavy hair.
Lewis shakes his head in amusement. “He’s as spirited as his Papa.”
You grin proudly at your son, the spitting image of Charles, as he zooms around mimicking pit stops. Your little three-year-old Helene clings shyly to her daddy’s leg, peering up at the action with wide brown eyes that are the mirror image of Lewis’ own.
Charles emerges from the engineering briefing and makes a beeline for you. Sweeping you into his arms, he greets you with a passionate kiss. After over seven years together, the sparks between you still ignite instantly.
Pulling back, Charles grins at your slightly disheveled state. “Hello to you too,” you laugh breathlessly.
He winks before turning to give Lewis a tender kiss. Your unconventional family drew some skepticism at first, but your extraordinary love has proven unshakeable.
The kids chorus “Papa!” and attack Charles’ legs. Laughing, he scoops them both up, kissing their heads. “Are you ready to cheer for me, my little racers?”
Their enthusiastic cheers draw amused glances from the team. You soak it all in — your little family, together forever.
Charles reluctantly sets the kids down to focus on pre-race prep. You feel a phantom flutter in your belly, though you know it’s still too early for it to be real. Grasping Lewis’ hand, you share a private smile. Baby number three is on the way.
The race begins in a blur of excitement. Charles aces the start, quickly pulling into the lead. Louis abandons all decorum and just starts screaming “Go Papa!” at the top of his lungs. Chuckling, you and Lewis take turns occupying your hyperactive son so as not to distract the crew. Shy little Helene contents herself hugging a Ferrari-themed teddy bear, peering intently at the screens showing her Papa as he speeds around the Autodromo Nazionale Monza.
The laps tick by, Charles fending off the competition masterfully. As he crosses the finish line to claim victory on home soil, Louis and Helene are jumping and cheering loudly. The passion for racing already runs strong.
Back out in the paddock after the podium celebration, you and Lewis balance the kids on your hips as reporters head straight for the two of you. The questions are familiar after years in the spotlight.
“Lewis, what’s it like spending almost every weekend at the track despite your retirement five years ago?”
“I love it,” Lewis smiles, bouncing a giggling Helene. “Getting to support my husband and spend time with my family, it’s very fulfilling.”
“And Y/N, how do you manage the kids and your husband’s demanding career?”
You grin. “We make it work. We’re so proud of Charles and feel lucky to be by his side through it all.”
On cue, Helene pipes up “Papa is the best racer!”
The reporters chuckle. One asks, “How do you feel seeing Charles continue to build his legacy with Ferrari?”
“I couldn’t be prouder,” Lewis says, genuine emotion in his eyes. “He’s taken the team to new heights and really made his mark. Seeing him succeed means the world.”
Louis suddenly grabs the mic, yelling “Are we done yet?” You have to stifle your laugh.
“I think that’s our cue to wrap up,” you grin sheepishly, gathering the rambunctious children in your arms. Blowing kisses to the laughing media, you make your exit.
Back in the privacy of the motorhome, your unconventional but beautiful family shares celebratory hugs and kisses. Charles rests his hand gently on your belly, his face lighting up when you confirm the news.
“Baby number three on the way!” Lewis crows, sweeping you into an excited embrace.
Louis and Helene cheer, demanding another sibling immediately. You laugh giddily, leaning into Charles and gazing at the pure joy on your husbands’ faces. Your hearts swell with love.
This life you’ve built together has faced skepticism, but your extraordinary bond conquers all. Gazing into their eyes, you know without a doubt you were destined for each other. Hand in hand, side by side, forevermore.
***
18 Months Later
You finish strapping a squirming Cosette into her car seat, smoothing down her hair that is the spitting image of your own. “There we go, my little princess. Time to go see Opa Toto!”
Cosette babbles happily, waving her chubby fists. At just over a year old, she is the perfect blend of you and Charles, with your lips and nose and his vibrant green eyes.
Louis and Helene are already buckled into the backseat, their patience for the short drive to your father’s house wearing thin. “Hurry up!” Louis cries. “I want to show Opa my new race car!”
“We’re coming, hold your horses,” you laugh, sliding into the passenger seat beside Charles. Lewis is meeting you there after stopping at home to grab a few extra toys and changes of clothes for the kids’ overnight stay.
During the short drive, Charles keeps resting his hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing distracting circles. You try your best to keep your breathing even. After all these years together, just the slightest touch from your husbands can still ignite that spark instantly.
You pull up the long driveway to find Lewis’ car already parked outside the stately lakefront home you grew up spending summers in. Before you can even unbuckle, the front door swings open and Toto comes striding out, arms open wide.
“My lieblinge!” He booms as Louis and Helene barrel into his embrace.
You lift Cosette from her carseat and Toto takes her gently, eyes crinkling with delight. “And there’s my littlest liebling,” he coos, nuzzling her soft curls.
Lewis joins you all outside, greeting Toto with a warm hug. “Thanks again for watching the kids tonight, Toto. We really appreciate it.”
“Of course, of course! They’re my grandbabies, it’s my honor,” Toto declares, ushering everyone inside.
Soon the kids are happily playing on the living room floor as you and Susie chat over tea. Lewis joins Toto out on the back patio, no doubt talking about the current state of the team as always. Charles wanders in from the kitchen and comes up behind you, massaging the knots from your shoulders in that way he knows you love. You have to bite back a moan, not wanting to scar your family. Susie just smiles knowingly into her tea cup.
Too soon it’s time to head out for your rare adults-only evening. You pry Louis away from showing Toto his toy car collection and scoop up a sleepy Cosette. Helene hugs you tightly around the legs.
“We’ll be back to get you tomorrow, sweetheart,” you assure her, kissing the top of her head.
Lewis takes his turn hugging the kids while Charles checks his watch. “Reservations are in 30 minutes, we should get going soon.”
You pass a sleepy Cosette to Toto and he cradles her gently. “We’ll hold down the fort, you three go and have an enjoyable evening.” He gives Lewis and Charles a stern look. “But not too enjoyable, hmm? Keep it respectable.”
Lewis just grins as Charles steps up and claps Toto on the back. “Oh don’t worry, we’ll be very respectable. Just having a nice dinner while we discuss when to start working on baby number four.” He winks cheekily at Toto while you and Lewis have to stifle your laughter at the mortified look on your father’s face.
Charles dodges Toto’s half-hearted swat and pulls you and Lewis in close. “Come on, our romantic evening awaits.”
You bid one more goodnight to the kids before letting Charles usher you out the door, his hand resting possessively on your lower back. The drive to the restaurant passes enjoyably, laughter and teasing flowing freely. For one night, you have the rare opportunity to just be yourselves, simply three lovers.
At the upscale restaurant, you’re shown to a cozy corner table lit by flickering candles. Charles orders an expensive bottle of wine while you and Lewis peruse the menu. His foot trails slowly up your leg under the tablecloth and you have to resist the urge to jump him then and there. After years together the flames still burn hot, stealing passionate moments whenever you can.
Dinner passes enjoyably, full of laughter and flirty touches. Afterwards you stroll hand-in-hand along the lakefront, the starry sky reflected on the rippling water. Lewis pulls you into a dance right there on the path, the three of you swaying and giggling drunkenly together. Passersby stare but you’re oblivious, caught up in your own private world.
Eventually you make your tipsy way back home, shedding clothes on your way up to the master bedroom. They lay you down reverently in the middle of the expansive bed, hands and mouths immediately reacquainting themselves with every familiar curve and hollow of your body. Soon you’re panting and writhing between them, their dual caresses pushing you rapidly towards euphoria.
“Need you ... both ... now,” you manage to gasp out. Without hesitation Charles is kissing you hungrily while Lewis repositions himself behind you. You cry out as they join your bodies seamlessly, swiftly bringing you to the peak again and again. Their stamina and synchronicity even after all these years together never fails to leave you awestruck.
Much later, sated and pleasantly sore, you rest comfortably sandwiched between your husbands. Their hands caress you languidly as you all come down from your highs together.
“We certainly made the most of our kid-free night,” Lewis chuckles, dropping a kiss to your shoulder.
You hum contentedly. “It was heavenly. But I can’t wait to get our babies back tomorrow.”
“Me too,” Charles agrees, trailing his fingers down your arm. “Our family is everything to me.”
You smile softly at him, heart swelling. “Our lives turned out pretty perfectly, didn’t they?”
Lewis nods, his eyes drifting around the bedroom that over the years has become a shrine to your shared journey — photos of race wins, kids’ drawings, and candid shots of your unlikely love filling every surface.
“Beyond anything I could have dreamed,” he murmurs. “Being with you both, raising our babies together ... it’s more than I ever imagined was possible.”
Charles kisses you tenderly. “We’re so lucky to have this extraordinary love.”
You cling tighter to them, emotion welling in your chest. “Every day I’m grateful we followed our hearts and created this life together.”
They hum contentedly, holding you close between their warm, solid bodies. No more words need be said. After so many years, your souls are intertwined seamlessly by the incredible bonds of your love.
Come what may, you know without a doubt that you were destined for each other. And you would choose this unconventional but beautiful life with them every single time.
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lqvesoph · 6 months
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She’s WHOSE daughter?? || LN4
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lando norris x webber!reader
summary: After finding out who your father is, Lando needs some time for himself to think about everything. Oscar is more than willing to help make things right between you.
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5
masterlist | taglist
Part 4
dad: What’s going on with you and Lando?
You: What do you mean?
dad: Your Instagram
dad: And I saw you in the paddock together
dad: That hug looked a little too intimate for friends
You swallowed hard before turning your phone off, chosing to ignore the messages and focus on Lando who just walked back into the garage, the debrief was done.
"We gotta talk", he stated, pushing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
You nodded, wanting to follow him back up to his driver’s room when suddenly an all too familiar voice called your name.
"Y/n, don’t you think you should introduce us?", your father asked, sitting at one of the tables with Oscar’s parents. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at your father’s teasing. Lando and him knew each other, obviously they’ve seen each other quite a few times in the paddock, especially because he was Oscar’s manager.
"Y/n, sweetheart, how are you doing?", Oscar’s mum asked with a genuine smile, making a small smile appear on your face as well as you replied.
"I’m good, thank you."
Lando eyed you from the side as you stepped closer to your father.
"Dad, Lando. Lando, my dad", you dryly spoke. Lando’s eyes went from you to your dad, giving him a small smile and a nod before looking back at you. "If you excuse us but we have to go", you said, waving at Oscar’s parents and turning your back to the table.
You waited on the couch while Lando closed the door to his driver room.
"Why didn’t you tell me?", he immediately questioned, leaning against the locked door. "I never tell people about my father because it happened too often that they weren’t there for me but for him", you started, fiddling with your hands.
"Not me and I thought you would have figured that. I knew your father, I’ve met him a few times", Lando argued. "What was I supposed to say, Lando?", you raised your voice a little. "We met in Bahrain but didn’t have much contact after that until this week, I couldn’t just go like 'Oh and by the way Mark Webber is my dad'!"
"You could’ve told me", he muttered quietly. "You could’ve told me in Bahrain when I asked about how you know Daniel or at the beach when I asked about your dad’s work."
"It just never felt right", you tried to defend yourself. "Bahrain was just too early and at the beach I sort of panicked, I don’t know", you muttered, realizing you really didn’t know why you haven’t told him until now.
"I need some time", Lando said after a few moments. You nodded and watched as he unlocked the door, leaving the room and probably the track for the day.
*~**~*
"So, what made Lando storm out of here like that?", your dad asked when you gathered yourself and finally made your way downstairs.
"I don’t wanna walk about it", you grumbled, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Just then Oscar walked down the stairs, his eyes widened when he spotted you. "Princess, I’m sorry! I really am!", he immediately said, walking closer to you.
"I didn’t know that he didn’t know but I should have known and I’m sorry", your best friend apologized and wrapped you in a hug. "Don’t be, Oscar. It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve told him. I don’t know why I didn’t", you muttered, your voice sounding muffled from being pressed into Oscar’s shoulder.
"Still. I feel bad", he huffed, pulling back from the hug to look at you. "Where is he?"
You shrugged and looked away from Oscar. "I don’t know, probably went back to the hotel", you replied. "Mark how long do you plan on staying because I could take Y/n back to her hotel", he then turned to your father.
"Oh, I was actually just waiting for her", your dad replied, standing up from the table. "You ready?"
You nodded and turned around to Oscar’s parents, saying goodbye and telling them to meet again tomorrow at the race.
Oscar gave you another tight hug before waving at your dad and letting the two of you go.
"You ready to go as well?", Lily asked, grabbing his hand. Oscar nodded. "Yeah but I need to make a quick stop somewhere before we go home."
*~**~*
Just thirty minutes later, Oscar knocked on the door of one of Hilton’s hotel rooms.
"What on earth are you doing here? I thought you sleep at home", Lando muttered when he opened the door and saw his teammate standing there.
"Let me in?", Oscar just asked, lifting one eyebrow. Lando nodded silently and took a step to the side to let Oscar enter the room.
"She’s really sorry", he spoke as soon as the door had closed. Lando shut his eyes and crossed his arms. "Please, Oscar-"
"She knows she screwed up and said herself she doesn’t actually know or have reasons why she didn’t tell you", Oscar ignored his teammates protest. "She’s never been good with trusting people, so many having screwed her over just to get a chance to meet her dad-" "But I know her dad-" "And that left scars", Oscar continued. "She went into panic mode when you asked about her dad. She never likes being associated with him. She loves him to death but hates it when someone brings him up when talking about her achievements, or in general, when talking about her. She doesn’t just want to be Mark Webber’s daughter but her own person and she really really likes you!"
Lando stayed silent for a moment.
"Talk to her, please?", Oscar then quietly asked, searching for anything in Lando’s eyes that would give him some sort of confirmation.
The British driver blinked a few times, uncrossed his arms and took a deep sigh. "I will, tomorrow", he muttered, bringing a smile to Oscar’s face.
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1K notes · View notes
roosterforme · 2 months
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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 18 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Short notice before the start of a deployment was bad enough, but Bradley was left worrying about so much more. And if he didn't figure it out quickly, he thought he might lose you. How would you and he make it through the worst kind of time apart?
Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, smut, angst, adult banter, desperate Bradley, 18+
Length: 4100 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader
Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist
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Your boyfriend was acting strange, and now you had the distinct feeling he was lying to you. You sat on your bed after work on Friday with tears in your eyes as you tried to process the fact that you barely heard from him after you sent the topless picture the day before. Usually that kind of thing got him going in a good way, and he kept telling you he was fine, but it didn't seem that way. You just couldn't figure out what happened. 
A few minutes ago, you texted him about the plan for the weekend. You really wanted to talk to him about your upcoming winter break, too. You were supposed to be heading to his house right now, but you were having second thoughts as you read the latest message from him again.
I know we were supposed to go to Salvatore's tonight, but I think we need to talk instead. 
This sounded so bad to you. It didn't sound like he simply had a long day and just wanted to relax on the couch with you. This was something that built up over the past two days, and now you felt tears in your eyes as you scooped up your overnight bag and headed out.
"Just get it over with," you told yourself as you drove. You tried to focus on your playlist, but your mind was wandering to the plethora of reasons why I think we need to talk spelled disaster.
After you fought your way through rush hour traffic and pulled up to park in front of Bradley's house which you were supposed to move into next month, you noticed he was sitting on the porch step, waiting for you. And he didn't look very happy.
"Hi," he greeted with a poor attempt at a smile as he slowly stood and made his way over to you. He looked tall, broad and handsome in his uniform, but he didn't call you Gorgeous. 
"What's wrong?" you asked, not even bothering to get your bag out of your car before you met him halfway up his walkway. 
He pulled you in for a hug, and you could feel his lips on your ear as he lied to you again. "Nothing's wrong."
"Bradley," you said, trying to pull out of his grasp. He let you go, but now he wasn't even pretending to smile. You swallowed and whispered, "You've been acting strange since yesterday. I thought maybe work was getting to you, or that you just needed a day of quiet to yourself. But clearly this has to do with me, so just tell me what's wrong."
"It's not you," he replied instantly, taking a step closer with a pained look on his face. "God, it's absolutely not you."
When you looked at him more closely, it was obvious he was exhausted. Like maybe he hadn't even slept last night. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were sagging forward just enough that he looked almost defeated. 
"Bradley."
He looked down at the sidewalk before meeting your eyes again. "I found out yesterday... I'm being deployed."
The wave of emotion didn't hit you as hard as it could have, because you'd given this a lot of thought, but you were still rendered speechless. You'd mentally planned for this. Deployments were a way of life for him. But the tears were back as you asked, "When?"
"Day after Christmas," he murmured miserably. "But that's not all."
Your voice wouldn't work as you looked up at him, vision blurring his handsome features into something that was almost frightening. "What?"
He paused while you swiped at your eyes, and just when you thought you were going to have to force it out of him, he said, "It's with the Atlantic Fleet. Out of Norfolk, Virginia. They... they said they want me permanently."
"No," you sobbed, realizing that your tears were starting to roll down your cheeks. Now it made perfect sense. You knew why he'd been acting so odd. "You want to break up before you leave."
"What?" Bradley replied, his voice sharp as he reached for you again. "No. No, Gorgeous. I don't."
You felt ridiculous, crying in his arms in his front yard, but all you could say was, "Then why didn't you just tell me yesterday that you're going back to Virginia?"
"Fuck," he grunted, tucking you tighter against him. "Does this mean you don't want to dump me?"
You inhaled the smell of his deodorant and jet fuel as you cried. "Why on earth would you think I'd want to dump you? I'm in love with you."
He started to back toward the front door, his hold on you never relenting as he murmured, "Now that I know you're not going to leave, let's go inside where we can talk and snuggle on the couch."
--------------------------
Bradley had been waiting on his porch step for almost an hour for you to arrive, thinking there was a real chance that you'd drive off again. He was tired and hungry, and he'd spent the last day and a half trying to figure out what was going on with his job. But more than anything, he was afraid you hadn't changed your stance on falling for a guy who lived on the opposite side of the country.
Shit. He made you cry. You were still crying as he led you over to the couch where you ended up sitting on his lap. He was trying to wipe your tears away as you just shook your head. "I'm sorry, Baby," he whispered. "I didn't mean to upset you like this."
You sucked in a few breaths before you managed to say, "Let me make sure I have this straight. You're leaving for Virginia. And you don't know when you're coming back, if at all?"
"Yeah," he whispered. There was no point in beating around the bush about it. "The deployment out of Norfolk is a done deal. Leaving on the twenty-sixth is a done deal. I'm trying my hardest to fight the rest of it."
"You can do that?" you asked, letting your forehead rest against his. 
Bradley kissed you softly. He couldn't stop himself with you this close. "I'm trying. I don't want to leave San Diego. Virginia used to feel like home, but it hasn't for a long time. Especially not since I met you. So a permanent change of station is something I will fight until they force it on me."
You kissed him this time, and he knew nowhere would feel like home without you. But he couldn't retire yet, and he didn't want to have to ask you to uproot your life for him. He just made himself dizzy, chasing his thoughts around in circles. 
"Is there anything I can do?" you asked.
He wanted to beg you to stay with him no matter what, but he couldn't do that either. "Remember when I was deployed last time and you told me you were afraid I was stationed somewhere far away from you? And how you would have to brace yourself to say goodbye instead of pursuing something?" You nodded against him, arms around his neck as he whispered, "I thought about that all night last night. About how this could be the end for us."
"Stop it," you said before pressing your lips to his. "I don't feel that way anymore at all. It wasn't even a deal breaker when I said it months ago, and I hadn't even met you in person yet. I'm not going anywhere, Bradley. We'll figure it out."
He eased himself down along the couch, keeping you firmly on top of him as he sighed in relief. Suddenly fighting for his job with the Pacific Fleet didn't seem as daunting. He had to figure it out though, because he wanted to stay here and get married. "Say my name again?" he asked, knowing exactly how much you could calm him down when he let you in.
"Bradley," you whispered, settling against his chest as he closed his eyes.
"I love you, Gorgeous."
He didn't realize exactly how tired and stressed he was until he woke up close to midnight, alone on the couch with a blanket draped over him, still wearing his uniform and boots. As soon as he opened his eyes, his head was pounding from the events of the week, but he could smell something cooking.
Bradley rolled off the couch while his stomach growled, and he made his way into the kitchen where you were wearing his sweatshirt and making a grilled cheese sandwich while you looked at your phone. "Hey," he murmured, wrapping his arms around you from behind. You quickly swiped out of the photo album and tossed your phone aside.
"I was going to wake you up soon. You have almost no food here, but you need to eat," you told him, turning to face him. He had no food, because he originally planned to take you out tonight, and now there was no point in going grocery shopping since he was leaving. Your expression was unreadable, and he didn't like that.
"What I need is to spend as much time with you as I can between now and Norfolk." Your lips curved up into a small smile. "I should have told you what was going on as soon as I found out."
You nodded. "I know we haven't been together long, but I'm taking this pretty fucking seriously, Bradley."
"Me, too," he promised. "And it's really hot when you swear." When you laughed, he felt so much better. "Listen, you're absolutely stuck with me now, okay? I'll figure this shit out, but you're stuck with me, and we're going to get married someday."
"Sounds good," you replied easily, still smiling. "But right now you need to eat."
----------------------------
You felt better with Bradley's arm around you than you had all day. You couldn't believe he'd been hanging onto your words from his last deployment. You were surprised he could still possibly think that distance would mean anything to you. Both of you agreed not to get ahead of yourselves. Uprooting your life and your career would leave you devastated, but you'd start over again for him.
"Were you just looking at the dirty picture you sent me?" Bradley asked as he bit into half of the sandwich while another one cooked.
"Yes," you whispered before nibbling on your own sandwich half.
"Shit," he mumbled, dropping his food back onto the plate where he stood in the kitchen. "I never even told you how much I loved it."
"No. You didn't."
He wiped his hands on his uniform shirt. "God, I keep fucking up. I got so sidetracked by the orders from Norfolk that I couldn't even think. I loved that photo."
You turned away to flip the second grilled cheese sandwich in the pan. "I thought you got tired of me sending them." Bradley's hand moved faster than his brain as he flicked the knob on the stove, turning it off. "Hey," you protested, turning to look at him again, but he pulled the spatula out of your hand and tossed it into the sink. "Bradley!"
He mashed his lips against yours, silencing you as his hands grabbed the backs of your thighs, pulling you closer until you were pressed tight to the front of his body. Then he let his hands slide along your bare skin from your legs, over your perfect ass, up until they were on your lower back. "I'll do better," he promised. "And right now, I want to show you how not fucking tired of you I am."
A minute later, you were on your back on the edge of his bed, legs thrown over his shoulders while he ate your pussy. Your fingers were tangled up in his hair as he knelt on the floor, and his sweatshirt was bunched up above your tits. "I will never get tired of you," he swore before licking a long stripe up to your clit. If you thought for a second that he would want to throw in the towel over long distance, he needed to make sure you understood he never would.
"Bradley," you moaned as he sucked on your clit. His insignia pins were digging into the back of your thigh, as was his name tag. He would figure this out. He would figure everything out. Leaving in a handful of days was not ideal, but as long as you still wanted him, he was all in.
"Oh my god," you whined, back arching as Bradley realized he was being a bit rougher with you than usual. But he couldn't stop. His fingers were digging into your hips, holding you in place as you tried to rock against him. 
His mouth was demanding as he sucked on and plucked at your clit, but you just kept getting louder for him. Your legs were shaking, heels digging into his shoulder blades, but he didn't stop until you came. With his tongue still swirling your clit as you yanked on his hair, Bradley quickly unzipped his khaki pants and pulled himself free. He positioned himself at your entrance as you tugged until his mouth was on yours.
"You liked it rough," he grunted between kisses slick with your arousal.
"I did," you answered, rolling your hips to take the tip of him. As your fingers trailed down to his pins, you asked, "Are you going to fuck me, Lieutenant Bradshaw?" He watched you gasp, mouth agape as he filled you with one deep thrust, and then your head tipped back as you moaned, "I'll take that as a yes."
His lips found that sweet spot next to your ear that he loved to kiss. "I just want to ensure that you'll miss me as much as I miss you while we're apart."
Your voice was softer as you said, "You don't have to worry about that."
Bradley kissed along your neck and told you how much he loved you before absolutely pounding you into the mattress. 
-----------------------------
You and Bradley slept in so late on Saturday morning, you heard him wander out to the living room when Natasha arrived to go for a run to tell her he'd workout on Sunday instead. When he tried to slip back into bed, you rolled over toward him.
"Sorry. It was just Nat. I forgot I told her days ago that we could run." He gathered you against his chest and kissed your forehead.
You grinned and said, "I heard you tell her that the love of your life was more appealing today than working out."
"I sure did," he grunted and ran his big, heavy hand down your back. "You're always more appealing than anything else, Gorgeous. But if I don't run, I'll gain so much weight. You know how much I eat."
A smile found your lips as you thought about the rough sex followed by another round of grilled cheese sandwiches at two in the morning. "Can we skip Salvatore's again tonight? I'd rather stay here and feed you. We can go to Salvatore's when your deployment ends and you return to San Diego."
Bradley sighed. "And if I get told my new station is in Norfolk?"
You pressed your fingertip to his lips. "We're not humoring that thought yet. Instead, we're going to snuggle and fuck and maybe watch a Christmas movie. Okay?"
"Nothing has ever sounded better."
After that, Sunday was spent with the two of you trying to use up as much of his food as you could. You even managed to bake some cookies that he ate a dozen of in one sitting, and then you found a strand of twinkle lights in his hallway closet where you discreetly squished a spider without telling him. You helped him hang the lights on his porch railing as he laughed and said, "I don't usually celebrate holidays anymore."
"You do now," you informed him, making a mental note to have your students make some cards for him this week before he left. Bradley would be very busy over the next few days, and you didn't want to stress him out about the holiday. But just when you were about to ask him if there was a chance he'd want to spend Christmas Day with you before he flew to Norfolk, he said, "Maybe we can get Thai food on Christmas, and you can help me finish packing?"
You nodded and tried to keep the tears at bay, afraid to admit to him that the future you were so sure of was scaring you a bit. Being without him for a deployment was manageable, but the last thing you wanted to do was move across the country. At least you'd have your regular pen pal back while he was on the aircraft carrier; having Bradley in your email inbox on a regular basis again was better than nothing.
"That sounds perfect," you told him, knowing you'd do whatever it took to make this work.
----------------------------
When Bradley was called in to talk to Cyclone, he was exhausted for a different reason. Although the weekend started out laced with uncertainty between you and him, it bloomed into something sweet. On Sunday evening, you held his hand and walked along the windswept beach until it got too chilly, and then you helped him start packing. You'd had some tears in your eyes that he brushed away as you folded his clothes into tiny rectangles and stuck by his side.
Now the only uncertainty he felt came from the U.S. fucking Navy. With a deep breath and squared shoulders, he opened Cyclone's office door after he knocked. It wasn't surprising that Mav and Warlock were there, too, but he couldn't tell if that was a good sign or a bad one regarding a change of station. He raised his hand into the proper salute.
"Admirals. Captain."
The three men returned the courtesy before Cyclone sank into his office chair. "Have a seat, Lieutenant." His voice sounded gruff and perhaps even more annoyed than usual as Bradley slowly sat down opposite him. "Captain Mitchell," he barked at Maverick who procured a folder from behind his back and handed it to Bradley. Then he turned toward Bradley again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Lieutenant Bradshaw, you'll report to the USS Gerald R. Ford in a matter of days to rendezvous with the air strike team."
Bradley nodded and skimmed the paperwork inside the folder regarding the sensitive nature of the mission, but he didn't much care about what they wanted him to do when he got there. "Sir, can you tell me where I'll be stationed once this mission is completed?"
Cyclone leaned back in his seat, brow puckered, arms crossed over his chest. "Naval Station Norfolk has, as you know, requested you specifically to round out their Super Hornet team permanently."
"Yes, Sir," Bradley replied, practically choking on the words. He would have never thought the promise of Virginia would feel like a threat to his happiness, but here he was. "I would really prefer to stay in San Diego," he added, trying to keep the pleading tone out of his voice.
Cyclone leaned forward in his seat with a weary sigh. "Admiral Simpson, Captain Mitchell and myself all agree that the Pacific Fleet is very well balanced at the moment. Losing a reliable pilot to the Atlantic at this point would not be ideal." The tension in Bradley's body eased up momentarily before Cyclone said, "But I can only do so much to keep the status quo when there is a clear need across the board."
Bradley wanted to ask why nobody else was even in consideration when Warlock cleared his throat and said, "There's a price to pay when you're the best of the best."
There was a beat of silent agreement amongst the four of them before Cyclone heaved a deep breath. "I'll do what I can," he said simply. "In the meantime, prepare for your flight to Norfolk. The information is in the folder. And prepare to be out of communication with any and all civilians for the duration."
Bradley's heart stopped. He opened the folder again, but his eyes couldn't seem to focus on the words in front of him as the pages all blurred together. His fingers scrambled as he swallowed hard, and finally he looked up at the older man seated behind the desk. "No communication at all. For the duration?"
Cyclone nodded once. "You are dismissed, Lieutenant."
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It was just something silly, but when you saw it while you were out shopping, you bought Bradley another Christmas present. You wrapped it up in red and gold paper along with the Mira Mesa Elementary School sweatshirt you got in his size. Then you threw the gifts along with the collection of cards from your students in your overnight bag and tried to keep yourself calm as you drove down to Coronado.
You would have a few days with your boyfriend at the beginning of your winter break before you took him to the airport and sent him off to Norfolk. There would be plenty of things to keep you busy while he was away, including packing up your apartment before your lease ended. But now you'd be moving into his house without him there.
All of the twinkle lights and decorated trees gave you a bittersweet feeling in the pit of your stomach as you drove down his street, but at least this time when you parked, he jumped up from his porch step and met you at your car.
"Gorgeous," he breathed, wrapping his arms around you. His old sweatshirt was currently keeping you warm, and you really wanted him to have his new one for his deployment. You kissed him hard, noting the look of apprehension on his face, but chalking it up to the stress of the unknown.
You kissed him again and kept your arms around his neck as he picked up your bag. "I was going to say we should wait until Christmas morning, but I want you to open your presents now."
His voice was deep and raspy and right next to your ear as he led you inside. "You did not have to get me anything." He kissed your cheek and added, "I need to tell you something important."
"After you open these," you agreed, reaching into the bag and pulling out both gifts before he set it down.
Bradley studied your face before running his thumb along your cheek. "Sure. After I open these."
He took the wrapped packages as you tugged him toward the couch with your hands on his bicep, and you ended up halfway on his lap as he carefully tore at the paper like he didn't want to harm it too much.
"Just rip it," you said with a soft laugh, but he shook his head and looked up at you.
"It's too pretty," he replied. "And nobody gets me gifts, ever. Unless you count coupons for steak dinners from Natasha."
You laughed a little louder as you imagined the laundry list of weird gifts his best friend must have given him over the years. When he finally had his hands on the sweatshirt, he sat frozen with a smile on his face. "I love this. I kind of feel like an honorary faculty member at your school."
"You're a legend in my classroom, Bradley," you promised, snuggling a little closer as he set the shirt aside and carefully unwrapped the second item. This one would mean more to you while he was away, and you hoped he understood just how much you were going to miss his voice and his touch. But you'd still have something from your pen pal.
"Oh," Bradley said softly as he held the navy blue stationery set on his lap. It included note cards, luxuriously thick paper and a gold pen. You could already picture his handwriting on the pages.
"We can go back to being pen pals for a bit," you whispered. "I'll be refreshing my email inbox and waiting not so patiently for my mail to arrive. It'll be great. That's how I fell in love with you in the first place."
"Gorgeous," he groaned, setting the stationery down on his coffee table before burying his face in his hands. "That's not gonna happen."
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Atlantic Fleet, here we come. But for how long? No pen pals. No email. No letters. This deployment already hurts. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 19
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686 notes · View notes
webslingingslasher · 7 months
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Unknown Sender
happy valentine's day!
MONDAY: 13:52 
‘hi.’ Peter squints at the message, then the unsaved number. He's not sure how, but it’s a scam. 
‘i’d like to have your attention, please.’ Peter rolls his eyes, swiping left to not only delete but report the number as junk. No doubt it was a bot or someone with a flair for sextortion. 
A new number. ‘that was actually so rude of you, parker.’ 
‘unblock me right now.’ 
Peter shifts in his seat, he does a slow look around the room and finds nothing off putting or alarming. 
‘Who is this?’ 
Green bubbles pop up. ‘unblock me and i’ll tell you.’ Peter was right to guess about extortion. Another swipe, blocked and reported. Peter wasn’t participating in any games. 
A new number. ‘oh, now you’re just being cute.’ 
Peter feels his heart pick up a bit, it’s a tad threatening and now he’s overthinking it a little. What if someone has it out for him? Is there a mark on his back? ‘Please leave me alone.’ 
‘no.’ 
‘can we play 21 questions?’ 
Peter’s face scrunches up, he spins his head around one more time, someone is fucking with him. He has no clue who has time for something like that in university, but he’s not a willing participant anymore, not since high school. 
‘Leave me alone. Go torment a freshman.’ 
‘i don’t like freshmen. i like you.’ Peter chews at his bottom lip, there was a second of hesitancy but he knows the truth deep down. ‘I’m blocking you.’ 
‘sure. i’ll keep texting you, too.’ 
‘I’ll change my number.’ 
‘noooo please don’t do that. i had to work hard enough to get it the first time.’ Peter doesn’t respond. He blocks the number and moves on, and they don’t try to text him again.
Until the next day and Peter knows two things for certain. There is a note in his backpack, and it wasn’t there before his econ lecture. He remembers pulling that pocket open before he started notes, then when he went to zip it up, a note. 
This upsets him. What good was any sense when someone could get that unnoticeably close to him without him knowing? Second, it’s a little frustrating not to know who this person is and how it most likely is connected to the texts he had a few days ago, and that it’s an extremely long played joke that’s mostly boring. 
‘Peter Parker- 
You’ve been secretly admired. It might not be very secret, because I think you’ve caught me staring at you a thousand times. I like you a lot. 
Hopefully liked back, 
-X’ 
But a part of him believes it’s true. He’s trying to think of who’s in his lecture, if he’s caught them staring then they’re either to the side or behind him. There are too many faces, too many times he’s been looked at, he’s almost centered, it’s his fault for choosing a focal point. 
Instead of throwing it away, he refolds the pink handwriting and puts it back into place before hitching a strap over his shoulder and sliding behind chairs. One, two steps up he glances at your face, you have a weak smile, he returns the same kind, it’s more like a polite nod. Peter’s always thought you were pretty and he thinks you're nice. 
But really, he’s wondering who left the note. 
10:30
‘did you get my note?’ Peter does his normal scan across campus, again, his fault for being out in the open. This person could be anywhere, he’s on a picnic bench with a group of friends. If he’s smart, he’d start limiting himself to contained spaces and make you show yourself. 
‘Yeah. Who is this?’ Peter’s thumbs dance around the screen waiting for a reply, it comes quick. ‘i told you. x.’ He stops himself from rolling his eyes, he doesn’t know anyone with an ‘X’ anywhere in their name. 
‘Is that an initial?’ 
‘actually, i’m pretty sure it’s british for kiss.’ 
‘That’s a wild take. Are you saying the UK is responsible for XOXO’s?’ 
‘i’d like to make you responsible for my xoxo’s.’ Peter chews his bottom lip, he won’t play into anything in writing. He doesn’t believe this for a second, everything about this feels off. Someone’s fucking with him and they’re also in his class, or they have someone in on it in his class. 
But this is too advanced.
‘sorry. i don’t mean to like harass you or anything. you’re really hot but you scare me, i don’t think you would like me so idk, maybe if you talk to me you’d like me for me or something.’ 
‘i just think i’m punching wayyyy above my weight class here and i may be making this worse because there is no doubt you think im weird.’ 
‘i am weird. i should leave you alone now. i’m sorry.’ 
Peter reads his screen four times, it’s still not clicking. He’s nothing special and he doesn’t mean that in a way to dog on himself, he’s just nerdy and quiet. It seems a little too authentic to be fake, but he’s got to make sure. 
‘How’d you get my number?’ 
‘your friend. they have been sworn to secrecy but they know what i’m doing and they are in full support. take that as you will.’ 
‘Depends on the friend.’ 
‘i’ll tell you when you find out who i am.’ 
‘I’m going to find out? You’re not going to tell me?’ 
‘i don’t think i’ve been hiding it. you just haven’t been paying attention and now i want you to.’ 
‘Oh, but you’re shy?’ 
‘i’m about to pass out on the lawn behind this fucking screen, don’t play with me parker.’ A slip, you’re around him and you just admitted it. ‘Tell me, admirer, what are you wearing?’ The more detail the better, but he could work off of just a color. 
‘nice try. but you’re looking mighty handsome in the blue.’ A glance down, he suddenly feels watched. ‘Are you stalking me?’ 
‘oh no! no no no. i PROMISE you i’m not that fucking psychotic.’
‘i’m just a “sneak a note into your backpack” level of crazy. i’m here with my roommate and her boyfriend. i saw you and just wanted to know if you got it, i promise.’ 
‘You do understand that this situation makes you seem psychotic, right?’ 
‘yes. but i am not.’ 
‘That sounds like something a crazy person who got my number from a third party would say. Especially after I blocked you six times.’ 
‘it was three and you didn’t understand my intentions but okay. you have a fair point and i extend the olive branch of brett. he gave me your number and he knows me pretty well.’ 
Brett? Easy enough, he nods his head towards him and slides his phone across the table. “Explain.” His friend scrolls through the thread, a trustworthy smile spreads. “Yeah, I gave her your number.” Her. Okay, it’s something. “Who is she?” Brett shrugs, “you know her. She’s kind of a firecracker, you just make her nervous.” 
“That gives me nothing, Brett.” His friend blinks, “she’s not crazy. She likes you a lot for whatever fucking reason and has no idea how to approach you.” Peter’s letting his words soak in, “don’t believe me? Ask her about the grilled cheese, and make sure you tell her that I told you about how she went on for five fucking minutes about the grilled cheese.” 
“What grilled cheese?” Brett slides Peter’s phone back, he’s telling him to ask you. Something tells Peter it’s enough to embarrass, or it might be Brett being the ultimate wingman.
‘I’ve been told to ask you about the grilled cheese.’ 
‘oh god. there is no need to ask about the grilled cheese, did brett tell you about the grilled cheese?’ 
‘He told me to ask you. And to specify that you went on for five minutes about it.’ 
‘five is excessive, it was more like three. second, there is nothing to speak about.’ 
‘I would like to hear about it.’ 
‘i’d prefer if you didn’t.’ 
‘But you’ll do it for me?’ 
‘i’m weak for you and you know it. it’s sicking, parker.’ 
‘i heard you talking about making one in class and you said something about the crust and i really fucking love grilled cheese’s so i had a trip to fantasy land where you made me one and how it’s probably the best thing i’ll never get to taste.’ 
‘Wow. Five whole minutes on that?’ Peter won’t admit it made him feel a little warm on the inside, the most mundane of things to have someone so squirrely makes him feel unworthy. 
‘three.’ 
‘Tell me who you are and I’ll make you a grilled cheese.’ 
‘you have no idea how much that almost worked.’ 
‘What’s the plan then, master manipulator?’ 
‘i don’t know yet. i’m hoping you show me how smart you are and figure me out, then you can do all the hard questions.’ 
‘Hard questions?’ 
‘you know, do you wanna go on a date, do you wanna be my girlfriend, do you want to take my hand in marriage and have a summer home in the french alps? that kind of stuff.’ 
‘Totally not psychotic.’ Peter tucks his bottom lip between his teeth to hide the smile that wants to spread. 
‘mostly not.’ 
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WEDNESDAY: 13:57
Peter doesn’t know who X is, but they’re clever and have zero effect on his sixth sense. He doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Either way, he’s reading a note scribbled in blue pen and as he studies the words he knows it was rushed. It’s proof that he wasn’t being followed everywhere, instead you saw an empty table and an opportunity. 
‘Peter- 
You use mostly gender neutral pronouns. I think that’s very cool. Is it weird that I notice those things about you? Also- what is it that you’re always drinking from Nuthouse? Asking for a friend… 
Have a good day! 
-Your not so secret admirer, X. 
‘Not so secret,’ Peter isn’t sure about that. You’ve done a good enough job at not trying to be obviously known, he might have looked up your number last night to find dust. One was from an app, but the one you’ve been using is a burner phone. 
What he’s really not understanding is how you’re able to get so close to him without him noticing. You had to have been millimeters away when you rested the letter on his backpack, he was gone for less than two minutes and he had zero awareness. 
Peter folds up the note and sticks it in the same pocket as the other one, his back slung around one shoulder as he moves up the stairs for the library. At the same time, you come down the opposite side, Peter gives a friendly acknowledgement. 
You choke down the lump in your throat. “Hi, Peter.” He’s already past you, it’s echoed behind his shoulder. “Hey.” It’s something. You’re trying, you’re trying to be bold for him. But he’s not going to notice, he’s never going to notice you and if you tell him who you are you’ll never live past his disappointment. 
Your phone vibrates, the other phone. Your heart picks up, Peter texted first. 
 14:02 
‘Dirty chai.’ 
‘best of both worlds. how fitting. you’re such a nonconforming king.’ 
‘I don’t even know what that means.’ 
‘But thank you?’ 
‘you’re welcome!’ 
‘anything fun on the roster today?’ 
‘Roster? Who are you?’ 
‘idk you make me nervous. blame yourself.’ 
‘Well, coach. Nothing fun on the roster, just some math. Wanna swap places with me?’ 
‘gross. i hate math so if you like it that’s good with me. one of us has to be smart and it’s not me.’
‘Smart enough to use a burner phone.’ 
‘oooooh, someone tried to find meeee.’ 
‘Can’t blame a guy for being curious, can you?’ 
‘were you disappointed when you found nothing?’ 
‘A little bit. But, you know, it keeps the imagination alive. A little unfair advantage on your side though, you already know what I look like.’ 
‘if it helps, you already know what i look like too.’ 
‘I do?’ 
‘yeah. we’ve talked before.’ 
‘Wait, so I know who you are?’ Brett said he did but Peter thought he meant you’d be familiar, not that he actually knew you. This just opened the floodgates to a million more possibilities. 
‘not really but yeah i guess. you know i exist but we’re not friends or anything.’ 
‘I’d like to think we’re friends, but okay.’ 
‘not outside the texting.’ 
‘That’s your decision.’ 
‘HATER.’ 
‘Anymore hints?’ 
‘.... no.’ 
‘HATER.’ 
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FRIDAY: 12:15
You’re about to spill hot tea everywhere but it’ll be worth it to see his face. You ignore your pounding heart and stand in front of him. He’s got no clue you showed up, zoned out looking at the clock on the wall across from him. 
“Hi, Peter.” 
Full frontal attention, he’s looking at you. He’s perceiving you, he’s smiling at you. “Hi,” your eyes expand, he knows your name and it sounds so nice coming from his mouth. Sure, you’ve chatted with each other- even shared a few highlighters, but nothing serious. You’ve always been too scared to try anything else but maybe your fear has been mistaken for indifference. 
“I um, I lucked out today at Nuthouse so if you like dirty chai’s I got an extra one.” Your knees feel weak at his bright eyes, “my favorite. I’d love one, thank you.” You pass over the paper cup, your fingers brush and you think you’re about to collapse. 
“Yeah,” a weak laugh. “I had a feeling.” Peter tilts his head at you funny, you wonder if you pushed a little too far. “Okay, um, I’m gonna… have a good… lecture.” Peter nods and watches you go two rows up, he’s finally got a gut feeling. And it tells him to keep an eye out for you. 
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TUESDAY: 12:10
Not that Peter was reliant on your attention, he was used to it. So when the texts stopped for three days and he was unable to find any letters he assumed you had lost interest and moved on. That felt fair to him, no harm no foul, at least he never really got to know you. 
Nevermind, there’s a folded notebook page on his miniature desk and his heart speeds up. His next task, put eyes on you. Bottom level, book and pencil in hand. He makes sure to note it’s a pencil and not the green ink that’s spread across the page. 
Peter thinks it’s a mind game, you were smart enough to know he’d look. Unless he was totally wrong on his guess. 
‘Peter- 
I ran out of minutes on my phone and I’m having a broke college kid moment. However, a friend took pity and donated a twenty to the campaign. I hope you’ve been good- I’ve missed talking to you. 
- Your not so secret admirer, X’ 
ps. stop keeping your backpack so close to you.’
It wasn’t anything personal, you just ran out of minutes. Peter smiles so wide he has to drop it, he almost clutches the paper to his chest in a thank you. Eyeing his backpack, he nudges it a little further behind him, following instruction. He’s kept it close in hopes to catch you, but instead he’s pushing you away. 
Peter’s committing the writing to memory as if he’s going to find you by the handwriting alone. A quick glance at footsteps, you’re three steps away when you smile. “Hi, Peter.” He nods, “hey.” You pause for a moment, mind racing for words. 
“Did you, um- did you do anything fun this weekend?” You’re about to crawl into a hole and die, it takes a moment to click that you were speaking to him. He went as far to look behind himself, then he spewed the answer to try and make up for the lost time. 
“Oh, uh not really. My aunt got a new bed so I had to lug the old one down seven flights of stairs.” Your eyes widen, you feel your mouth go dry and your tongue go thick. “By yourself?” Peter crosses his arms over his chest, a boyish grin swept over and you feel heart eyes form. 
“I’m a good nephew.” You want to pat his head and tell him you’re sure he is, then maybe hold him at gunpoint and tell you more stories about how he’s a perfect humanitarian. But you act like a normal human and smile back, “you sound like it.” 
Peter thanks you and you return to your seat with wobbly knees and a weak stomach, it’s silent torture to tease yourself like this with him. But you can’t help it and it’s only in effort to go after what you want. Even if it blows up when he figures out who you are. 
12:13
‘you’re looking mighty handsome today, mr. parker.’ 
‘I’m wearing a hoodie, but thank you.’ 
‘i said what i said.’ 
Boldly, ‘i see someone had another dirty chai. can’t stay away from them, can you?’ 
Another tick in Peter's stomach, he almost looks behind his shoulder at you, but he doesn’t. ‘It was a generous donation from a classmate.’ 
‘oh? pray tell, peter. pray tell.’ 
‘What? You don’t have a clue about who gave it to me?’ 
You swallow thickly, before you could get something out he sent another message. ‘No chance you didn’t see it go down?’ 
‘how could i? I was still on my way.’ 
‘... or was i?’ 
‘Tell you what, X. It one of the best teas I’ve had in a while.’ 
And you’d be damned if that didn’t make your entire chest flutter. 
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FRIDAY: 15:29
“Here,” Peter’s hand clasped over the paper slapped into his chest. A hint of a syllable, Brett cuts himself off. “She asked me to give this to you.” Peter quickly read it and stared down before confiding in his friend for a second. 
‘Peter- 
Roses are red, violets are blue, all that I think about is you. 
It’s sweet in a cringy way, right? Boo on you for skipping class today, if you want, I could get you some notes. 
I hope I’ll see you Tuesday. 
-Your (really) not so secret admirer, X
ps. A pen exploded in my pocket. 10/10 chance my thigh will be stained.’
“I think I might know who it is.” 
“Uh, huh.” 
“But, she’s way out of my league.” 
“Correct.” 
Peter raised his eyebrows, “so it’s her?” He clarified with your name, Brett shrugged back. 
“I won’t be confirming or denying.” Peter knows what that means, “the lack of a no usually means yes.” 
“Bro,” Peter starts sputtering, “oh, c’mon! You know what I meant, I just meant that, I just- c’mon, Brett. Is it her?” 
“I have no idea who that is.” Peter wants to call bullshit, he has a gut feeling and he swears it’s you. You’re right, it’s not so secret. In fact, you’re painfully obvious. 
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FRIDAY: 23:14 
‘you are soooooooo cute’ 
‘like your hair is so cute’ 
‘i looooove curly hair on guys and you have that!!!!!!!!!’ 
‘and you’re really funny cause like it’s so quick and witty like you have such good one liners’ 
‘also you’re really fucking hot and i KNOW you’re hiding something under those fucking sweaters and the second i see skin i WILL go feral.’ 
‘Something tells me you’re at the Kappa party.’ Peter’s pretending he doesn’t have a searing blush. If he’s got an inkling this could be you… then he might have proof for the non-believers that god exists. 
‘yes!!! are you here?? i should come see you.’ 
‘I hate to disappoint you, but I’m currently at a friend's house playing a Mario Kart drinking game.’ 
“But it’s nice to know that you’d give me your identity that quick.’ 
‘oh i can tell you who i am.’ Peter frowns at the text, he’s been doing nothing but crave the answer to who’s behind the love letters but it feels wrong. It’s not satisfactory enough for him, it’s also not what you want, you’re just drunk- and Peter’s going out on a limb here- horny. 
‘Save it for later.’ 
‘And maybe drink some water.’ 
‘i’d do anything for you cause you have the world's prettiest brown eyes’
‘Thank you for the compliments.’ 
‘you’re super welcome i try to hold them back because i’m a good girl but you’re just so cute i had to let you know’ 
‘I think you’re going to super regret this in the morning.’ 
‘false. maybe fact idk’
‘i should trust you tho because you’re super smart and you’re a nerd.’ 
‘I fear this is taking a turn for the worse.’ 
‘and that is so fucking HOT’
‘Oh. Back to compliments. Thank you.’ 
‘if you were here i’d give you a kiss’
‘IGNORE THAT!!!!’
‘I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND THAT!!!! IGNORE IT’ 
‘Not ignored. How cute.’ 
‘screaming crying throwing up’ 
‘i really didn’t mean to send that it was a joke ha ha funny.’ 
‘Idk, sounded authentic to me.’ 
‘peter?’ 
‘Yeah?’ 
‘i’m a little drunk rn. and you should know how cute you are.’ 
‘Oh, I’m talking about record breaking levels of regret. This is amazing.’ 
‘i have to pee but i do not reget this!!!!!!’ 
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SATURDAY: 09:54
‘i stand by my claim and do not regret a thing.’ 
‘correction. i regret this hangover and the way my previous texts are not very cool girl of me.’ 
‘but i would like to know if you won mario last night.’
‘also, who’s ur fav character?’ 
11:12
1. Proud of you for owning it, that’s very cool girl of you. 
2. I did not win. 
3. Petey Piranha. 
‘who tf is petey piranha.’
‘Mario Kart Sunshine. Came out in 2002. (Originally on GameCube but recently released on switch.) (Hell yeah.)’ 
Your heart thumps, he’s such a nerd and you wanna kiss the air out of his lungs. ‘out of all the characters and u choose him. why petey piranha’ 
‘One guess.’ 
‘PETEY PIRANHA.’ 
‘OH MY GOD.’ 
‘you’re petey piranha <333’ 
Peter fights a grin, ‘I am.’ 
‘you’re so cute. i love that.’ 
‘Personally, in the past 24 hours I don’t think I’ve heard enough about how cute I am.’
‘you’re insufferable and it’s sexy.’ 
‘Oo, new one to the mix. You’re making me blush.’ You really are. He’s never been considered sexy before and it feels really nice. 
‘and i bet you look super cute.’ 
‘Super true.’ 
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TUESDAY: 12:34
‘white t shirt white t shirt white t shirt WHITE T SHIRT.’ 
‘You like?’ 
‘i’m about to cry i’m biting my fist so fucking hard.’ 
‘:)’ 
‘you’re so ubuibabeyia.’ 
‘Bless you.’ 
‘?’ 
‘Sorry, I assumed you sneezed.’ Peter never whipped his head around so fast at an audible laugh behind him. It was short, it had escaped without being thought about. He’s looking for you, but it doesn’t seem like it was you who laughed. You’re engrossed in chatting to your neighbor. 
On the other hand, you almost blew it by clasping your hands over your mouth. Instead you looked next to you and said, directly and with a burning gaze, “I need you to pretend we’ve been talking this whole time.” 
‘Someone’s losing their edge, you’re just begging to be caught.’ 
‘oh, i’m begging all right.’ 
‘can you hear me whimpering too?’ 
‘Easy, killer. Let’s not start sexting at noon on a Tuesday.’ 
‘are you saying there is a time for it?’ 
‘Give me a little wave and we’ll see.’ 
‘too late, i’m passed out on the floor. the only thing that can resuscitate me are those thick arms wrapped around me.’ 
‘Let these strong arms sweep you off your feet, all you gotta do is come talk to me after lecture…’ 
Peter says that, but he doesn’t mean it. He’ll definitely eat his words when he sees it’s you, then he’d be coming up with a thousand ways to back out of it. He’s so much more than you deserve, you feel so safe behind a keyboard but in person you can barely say a sentence. 
It’s stupid and a little humbling because you’ve never felt this way about a guy before. 
‘trust me, i’m better in your imagination.’ 
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WEDNESDAY: 14:22
‘Peter- 
You know a little about a lot and I think that is one of my favorite things about you. Or maybe it’s your voice. I could listen to you talk forever. 
-Your not so secret admirer, X’ 
A note under his textbook, if he follows his hunch then he’d be looking for… you. Conveniently three tables away and to the right of his own, you’re not looking for his reaction, you’ve got your focus on your own textbook but he swears you’re retaining none of it. It’s a distraction, or maybe it’s a diversion. 
Peter doesn’t mind. He’s going to wait. He has all the time in the world today and he’s going to sit here with his eyes on you until you look up at him because he knows you’re going to and once you do, he’s going to have his answer. 
If he’s right, and he swears he is, he’s going to absolutely lose is shit because what do you mean you like him and are intimidated? You boldly lied when you said you were punching above your weight class. Does it make him a jerk to say he wasn’t even thinking of you as a suitor and maybe a girl with a much more average look?
 Peter counted to sixty twice, you glance up, eyes shooting to the note you left on the table. The next stop, Peter’s face. And oh, you were not prepared to have him looking right back. Panic, you shoot a wave, a desperate attempt to pretend you’re seeing a familiar face. 
Peter waves back but he looks much more satisfied than you did, you wonder if the jig is up. Did he crack the code? Was he just trying to find a friendly way to let you down? Deny til death, he has no proof it’s you. You pack your things up, a hurried scramble before you could lose your cool. 
On the way out you almost stop breathing, your forearm caught in Peter’s hand. You’re staring down at it, he’s not removing it. It burns in the best way. “Hey,” you wait, you can’t stop looking at his hand, the muscle, the subtle flex, his fingertips paler to show his grip. “Hi, Peter.” 
It’s breathless, you think you’re about to die. If he asks, you don’t know how you’ll lie your way out. 
Guess who’s got a stained pocket? The corner edge darkened with black ink that would never be washed out. Peter has his answer. You’re her. You’re X. “Thanks again for the tea.” 
 Maybe you wanted more, you feel a bit deflated when it’s all you receive.
“You’re welcome.” Your arm feels cold when he drops his touch, you linger for a second too long, you’re not sure when you’ll be this brave again. It was too much of a close call. “I hope the rest of your day is good.” 
Peter’s got a charismatic grin, he feels settled now that he knows you’re the anonymous lover in his life. Even more so when you find yourself shy and reserved in person, it almost makes him giggle to think of the stark changes in confidence.
“You too.” Your body engulfs into flames when your arm is caught again, you’re struggling to keep calm at his boyish smile. “Quick question,” you nod slightly, trying to show zero paranoia for the following words. 
“Do you have a boyfriend?” 
Short circuiting. You see black spots, you think you’re about to pass out. There is only one thing that means, no guy asks that if they weren’t interested in changing that, right? 
“No.” It’s anything but graceful. It sounds like you’ve never had a boyfriend before. It makes you sound like you’re scared he asked it. 
But, Peter doesn’t take it like that. He smiles wider, like he already knew the answer before he asked it.
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THURSDAY: 16:37
A new letter, stuffed under the top handle of his backpack. Peter listened and stopped setting it next to him, in return he was rewarded. He can’t stop the small smile, you make it involuntary at this point. Peter’s never felt so special in his life, a little part of him wants this to never end. But he’d much rather look you in the eyes. 
‘Peter- 
I had a dream with you in it last night. Don’t worry, you had your clothes on. I’m not sure what we were doing but you were across from me at a diner and we were sitting in those super thick booths and our friends were there. 
I don’t know who these friends were, and I don’t think you do either. But I knew them as our friends. 
It felt really nice. I’m happy to know you, even if I just get this little piece. 
-Your not so secret admirer, X’
Peter’s been wrong a lot in his life but this time he really thinks he has it figured out. He’s much more bold now, this letter tells him it’s not infatuation, it’s love. 
You love him and he thinks he could love you too. 
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FRIDAY: 20:08
‘Hey.’ Peter could be making the worst decision of his life here, he could be reading everything wrong and ruining this for himself. 
‘hi peter!’ But he really thinks he’s got it right.  
‘I really, really liked talking to you for the past few weeks but I think I should tell you that I like someone else.’ 
Gut wrenching despair. You knew it was too good to last, you knew he’d find someone more in his league. Someone who’d be willing to show him their face. There was no reason to respond because what would you say to that? 
‘thank you for letting me know that opening up to you was all for nothing!’ 
‘thanks for making me doubt love!’ 
‘hope you and her are so fucking happy together!!!!!’ 
Fuck it all and fuck Peter. He just liked the attention until it came from somewhere else. You don’t think you like him all that much anymore. You think you’re lying, too. Before you can give into the desire of hurting him just as bad, you calmly turn the phone off and stuff it in the back of a desk drawer to never be uncovered again. 
You slowly sit in bed and tug the blankets over your head. And only then, do you allow yourself to sob. 
Peter chewed on his bottom lip and waited an hour with constant phone checks before he realized a response was never coming. It really set in during the weekend but even further when he got no note or letter on monday. Not even when he left his backpack unattended for five minutes. 
TUESDAY -he was able to see you and how you avoided his eyes. How you pretended you didn’t see him send a small wave. How you had pulled back from him. 
And if he hadn’t hurt your feelings, or X’s feelings, why would you do that? 
You look up at a two fingered knock at the corner of your desk. “Hi.” You blink and ignore the white noise buzzing in your ears at the sight of Peter standing in front of you. “Hi, Peter.” 
“How was your weekend?” Bitter. Terrible. Lonely.
“Fine. Nothing exciting.” Besides you breaking my heart. 
Watching his fingertips dance on the edge of the plastic, you feel everything in you brighten. “You look sad.” There’s a burn in your stomach, he’s the reason for both the sting and the sadness. 
“Do you need something? Or are you just doing a friendly check in?” Peter bites back the grin when you snap at him, he’s so, so, so right and it feels so, so, so good. “Neither. I’m just confirming my suspicions.” 
“Suspicions?” 
“Yeah. You passed.” Your eyebrows furrow, before you could try to question further Peter was giving half a wave, saying bye, and skipping a step to his aisle. 
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FRIDAY: 12:08
You stop breathing for a solid second before feeling your brain spark back to life. It could be anything, it could be from anyone, but you know there’s only one person who would’ve left a note on your desk. 
Your fingers slightly shake when you unfold the graph paper, little squares bled through with black sharpie. 
‘X-
Am I right?
Hopefully, 
-  Peter’ 
You can’t breathe, you can’t talk, you can’t move and you definitely can fucking not look at him. No, no, no. You can feel his eyes on you, you know he’s watching for your reaction. Peter figured you out and had his own fun along the way. 
You were the girl he liked. Oh, wow. Is this how special you’ve made him feel? Something just for your eyes, from him. A secret you both shared between lines. 
You spin and swear you can feel his gaze running over your back, he’s aching for the answer. You almost scream at a tap on your shoulder, a peek lets you know it’s the person you’re hiding from. 
Another note, folded up just like the other one. It’s pushed into your hand, Peter doesn’t say a word, he just offers and leaves. He’s not watching this time, he’s sitting and focused on the front, you feel air leak back into your lungs. 
Full on panic shaking, you’re so happy he’s not watching. 
Your name is addressed on the front, just like you do for him. 
‘I like you. 
I think you not so secretly like me too. 
We could talk more about it at dinner tonight. Will you let me take you out?
Circle yes or no. 
- Peter.
PS. XOXOXO now you’re responsible for mine, too.’ 
2K notes · View notes
unorthodoxfaithxx · 8 months
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Yandere JJK - Yuta Okkotsu
When you leave for a month long mission without telling your close friend and maybe crush, Yuuta. You come back and he’s cracked. 
It’d been two months since you left on a mission, only now being able to return back to Japan. When you arrived home to your shared apartment, you had expected a warm welcome from your kind and courteous friend, Yuuta. You imagined he’d tell you, “Welcome home,” ask how your trip was, and offer to make dinner like he usually did on days he felt adventurous enough to cook. The two of you lived pretty harmoniously together, both being capable sorcerers with similar demeanors and all.
What you didn’t expect was to be shoved against the wall of the flat’s narrow hallway kabedon style, body pressed flush against your roommate’s, who had a look on his face like he hadn’t been sleeping for weeks and just found out the cure to his insomnia was something ridiculously simple, bordering on relief and hysteria. 
“Where. Have you been.” He practically growled, your heart beating at an odd pace since he was barely an inch away from your face.
“Uhnn, on a mission. But great news-I’m back home and won’t be working for a bit, aha?” You broke eye contact, unable to withstand the cold intensity of his dark eyes. 
“And you left without telling me? Without telling anyone?” 
“Well, to be fair it was a secret mission! It wasn’t to be disclosed and even then I knew it’d only make you worry and you’d probably end up trying to tag along somehow. I didn’t want to distract you from your work, Yu.”
Your explanation didn’t do much to help calm his nerves. You could tell he was obviously worked up, he was breathing hard, his arms were shaking, and his newfound grip on your shoulders was soul crushing. You knew your friend was strong, but the fact that you couldn’t move at all from your position was impressive. 
“So you just up and left? That’s not fair,” His languid voice spoke with quiet rage. He was never one to raise his voice, not even now. “You don’t get to decide that. What if you had died? What if something happened and nobody from home knew anything about it? Would you be okay with leaving everyone behind? Leaving me?” 
“No…I mean…I wouldn’t want that. I mean hey, I’m here! We’re good now, right? I’m fine! We’re fine.” You said this last part with no confidence, “…Are we?”
Yuuta took a step back, staring at the wall next to you because he couldn’t stand to look at you. “No. We’re not.” 
He let you go, moving to turn back to his room. You grabbed his shoulder. “Hey-wait! I know you’re upset. I would be too. But please, don’t ignore me. I was so lonely on my own, now that I’m back I…well, is it too selfish to say I want you by my side? I missed you a lot.” Your abandonment issues were about to be the death of you.
“You trampled on my feelings, completely disregarding how I’d feel, and now you want pity?”
You deflated. “No. Just. I just want you. I’m sorry for hurting you, Yuta. I didn’t mean it, really.”
A minute of silence passed you both. You felt like you were about to cry. You sniffled. “I really am sorry.” 
He stared at the ground, muttering a soft curse before looking back at you, slowly opening his arms. He sighed. “I can never stay mad at you. I missed you too. C’mere.” 
And you nearly leapt into his arms, hugging him tightly. His scowl broke, turning into an ever so slight smile. 
Coming home wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 
You thought the two of you were cool and were about to offer to order take-out when he threw you over his shoulder, went to his room, and threw you on the bed, locking the door promptly behind him. 
“Uhhhh, Yuuta?” You asked. “Watcha doing?”
He chuckled darkly. “You confessed to me before your mission, right? And then you bolted before I could even respond. Well, I’ve had a lot of time to think about how I should reply in the past months you were gone. And this is my response.”
Your face grew red. How could you have forgotten about that? 
He crawled on the bed after you, leering over you like a tiger would its prey. 
“I love you. More than anything in the world. And when I noticed you left and had no idea when you’d be back, or if you’d come back at all? I thought I’d go crazy. It took everything in me to not kill the elites that ordered you on the mission and drag you back home myself.” He had you caged between his arms again, voice dropping to something thick and heavy at his next words, “I decided that when you came back, if you ever came back, I wouldn’t let you go anymore. I want you by my side forever. And even then forever’s no where near enough.”
“Quite the romantic, are you big guy?”
He smirked at that. “I’ve had enough time to study up on the type of guys you like.” You shivered when you felt his lips glide across your neck, a rough hand slowly sneaking up your stomach, beneath your clothes. 
“You’re mine tonight. And forever.”
Tonight was going to be a loooooooong night. 
1K notes · View notes
loggiepj · 24 days
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illicit affairs
part 1 | part 2
"Y/N?"
You quickly turned your head to the sound and saw two teenagers who looked alike behind you.
There was something familiar about the way they looked, the shades of green hues from their eyes or the way they grin from ear to ear towards you. You had nightmarish dreams about them. And then it suddenly clicked.
As if you still haven't figured it out, one of them walked forward and offered his hand for you to shake.
"Billy?" Then he pointed his thumb to the guy beside him. "And Tommy? You used to babysit us when we were eight years old?"
Forcing a nervous chuckle, you said, "Of course, Billy and Tommy. How could I forget?"
How could you ever forget?
Ten years had passed and it was as if it was only yesterday when you last saw them.
"Gosh, you're both so tall, you had outgrown me," you said, now laughing as you compared each other's heights. Although you hoped it wasn't a shaky laugh.
They both joined in laughter. "Nah, I'm taller than Billy now," Tommy added.
"By an inch," Billy protested. "And that doesn't even count."
There was a short pause as you tried to regain your calm posture. You wouldn't want the twins to know how their presence truly affected you. But you couldn't stop the rapid beating of your heart for what was about to come no matter how hard you tried.
So you placed your hand on your chest as you said, forcing a smile, "It's been so long."
"Yeah, it is," Billy confirmed. "We haven't seen you around in Westview anymore. Do you live here now?"
"In New Jersey actually," you replied. "I'm just here for work."
"Wait, you work here?"
You shouldn't have said that but you nodded. "I teach Creative writing."
"No way," Billy said excitedly, clutching Tommy's arm. "We're actually planning to enroll here for College. Mom's at the lobby right now talking to the Dean. Tommy here hasn't fully decided yet on what course to take."
Upon the mention of Wanda's name, you immediately tensed, clutching your chest a bit harder, as if you forgot how to breathe.
"That's— That's great, you guys," you stuttered a reply. "You'll both gonna love it here."
"Wait, Mom's heading this way," Tommy said as he waved at someone from a distance.
Quick as lightning, you glanced at your wristwatch and moved a step backwards. "Shoot, I'm terribly sorry but I have to be somewhere five minutes ago. It's great to see you guys though."
"Oh, it's okay Y/n," Billy said. "We'll just see you later then."
YOU MUST have run like crazy after you left like you were really in a hurry. You had joined marathons in the past couple of years yet you weren't trained to avoid someone like this as fast as you could.
Your heart was still thudding so loud in your chest upon reaching your office. Closing and locking the door, you leaned your back against it as you closed your eyes and tried to regain your own breathing.
That was a close one, you thought.
"I didn't know you jog in your suit," Kate greeted, making you jump.
You opened your eyes and saw Kate on her table. You had completely forgotten you shared the office along with three other faculty members.
Exhaling heavily, you turned around to peep through the glass door. No sign of any brunette that had haunted your dreams.
"You okay?" You jumped again when Kate suddenly touched your shoulder.
"Sorry," you answered as you looked at her.
"Why so jumpy?" Kate gave you a concerned laugh.
"I- I just. . ."
Kate stopped laughing and held your shoulders. "Okay, breathe, Y/n."
It took you almost a minute to regain your normal breathing. Then you stepped away from your bestfriend and took a seat on the side of your desk.
"I just saw Tommy and Billy," you began breathlessly.
Kate waited but when you didn't add any more words, she asked, "Who are Tommy and Billy?"
"Wanda's twins," you replied.
Her brows furrowed deeper as she thought for a while. "Wait, Wanda the milf you hooked up with in college?"
You glared at her before she quickly apologized. "Sorry, but I also have eyes, Y/n, she was definitely a milf back then. But what are they doing here?"
"She's looking up universities and colleges for her boys."
"Does she know you work here?"
"Probably, I don't know. I just told Billy and Tommy though, so they probably told her."
And when you started to hyperventilate again upon the realization, Kate stepped forward.
"Look, calm down-"
"How am I supposed to calm down?"
"Because you're already safe, Y/n."
"What?"
"She can no longer threaten you for something that happened ten years ago. Gee, she might even have saggy skin that you would no longer recognize her."
Kate was right. You had your own apartment now. Your own car. Your own stable job. Plus, you were finally having your book published. You have built your own reputation here.
And you won't ever let her destroy that. She doesn't have the upper hand right now.
"You're right," you said, smiling. "I'm no longer a helpless student."
"Right, and if any, she'd be the one who's stupid to think she can actually scare you."
Kate had a point. You shouldn't be scared as you were ten years ago. That little old you did not exist anymore.
BUT WHEN the first person you saw the next morning standing outside your office was none other than the woman herself, it would seem that all the self assurance you did last night vanished at the sight of her.
And of course, she didn't have saggy skin like an old woman do. Wanda still looked like a goddess with perfect long brown hair and the mesmerizing greenest pair of eyes you have ever seen. She looked like she hadn't aged a bit. It was unfair.
When yours and her eyes met, you completely froze, as if you haven't gotten used to look at her like that. It used to end up with you screaming at her in your nightmares, for how cruel she was for making you both love and hate her.
"Y/n," Wanda called softly. And you hated to admit her voice still sound so angelic in your ears.
"Miss Stark," you greeted back, clutching the strap of your bag tighter, as if you needed it as a weapon in case she'd attack.
"I . . . I'm not anymore." She smiled shyly as she waved her fingers sporting no rings at all. "So you can still call me Wanda."
You simply just nodded back and wondered how you completely lost your voice.
"Ummm, my twins," Wanda began, noticing the awkward tension between the two of you. "Billy and Tommy, they told me you met them yesterday and I just missed you. We're still looking where they wanna go. But I think Tommy now likes it here because of a familiar face."
You tried not to overthink it. But Wanda's smile brought you shivers.
"What's he taking?" you managed to ask.
"Either Psychology or Biology."
You nodded, now avoiding her eyes. "Well, it's in another building, right after the entrance. You might have missed it, the pathway was covered with shrubs as tall as lamp posts."
Wanda swallowed as she nodded then shook her head. "Yes, no, I mean yes, I have been there this morning. I talked to them earlier before I got here. Do you know Dr. Hill? I kind of asked her about you and my, you're famous around here, she told me where your office is," she chuckled shakily, "and here we are."
You licked your lips nervously. "Yeah, here we are."
Wanda took a small step forward, her fingers appeared to be trembling. "I actually kind of wanted to talk to you about—"
And you immediately knew what she was going to speak about.
"It's a long time, Miss Maximoff. I kind of forgot about it now," you interrupted with a forced smile.
You knew Wanda tensed upon the mention of her maiden name. She hadn't heard you use that name before ever directed at her.
She smiled back rather forcefully as she nodded. "Right, right. Regardless, I just really want to apologize. What I did was so—"
"Heartless?" you suggested coyly.
She stopped and looked at you, her green eyes piercing right at you.
You chuckled as you stepped towards your office. "Believe me, my younger self would really hate you right now. But years have gone by, let's just forgive and forget as the saying goes."
After inserting the key into the keyhole, you entered the office rather hurriedly. But a soft delicate hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you. She pulled away instantly and you cursed youself for feeling disappointed, for wanting to touch her.
"If it's not any bother, Y/n. Can we have this talk over some coffee? You know, catch up with all those years that passed. I . . . You’re having your book published and I'm really excited for you—"
"Really preoccupied right now," you butted in, forcing a frown. "Sorry-"
"Not right now." She laughed as she went on. "Me and the twins were actually staying at The Avengers hotel just right around the corner just beside this-"
"Yeah, I know where that is."
Wanda nodded. "How about tonight then?"
"Tonight," you appeared to be in thought, "I got to be somewhere." And you knew you really sounded like you were only making things up just to avoid spending time with her. You still hoped Wanda would catch that.
But she didn't.
"Okay, how about tomorrow then? Tommy will be looking forward to talk with you about this university. I'm also kind of thinking if I should rent him an apartment or apply him to the dormitory, whatever suggestion you have will be greatly appreciated."
God. You had no idea how Wanda could get so desperate.
"Okay, sure. Sure," you finally relented, wanting to just get rid of her.
This brought a genuine huge smile on Wanda's face as she reiterated what time and if she could get your number. You gave her a fake one, although it appeared only as a typo.
SOMEHOW, Wanda still figured out later that night and you received a message from an unknown number you knew was from her.
See you tomorrow :)
But you didn't go the next day, as promised.
Even the next day after that, as you replied you couldn't to her messages. At least, you were still nice to respond back.
"I HEARD some hot lady was looking for you," Kate teased the moment you entered the office one morning. It had been a week since your last encounter with Wanda.
The other faculty member, Yelena laughed. "Look, I didn't know who she was when I bumped into her. I might have hit on her but that's besides the point."
You completely ignored them as they went on laughing.
Kate added, "Okay, from now on, when you guys see Wanda, you should tell her to get lost."
You turned this time. "Nobody would do such a thing."
Kate frowned. "Don't tell me you've already gone soft for her. Do you even remember what you went through—"
"I do, unfortunately I still do, Kate. But I don't want it to appear as if she still affects me that much."
"Hate to burst your bubble Y/n, but why are you still avoiding her?" Yelena asked after a small pause, noticing you nervously taking a seat at your desk. "I mean if you want to move on from someone, you need to have closure."
Kate disagreed. "There needs to be no closure between them. Wanda doesn't deserve that. She deserves to rot in hell for what she did."
"And I wish for that too, Kate," you said. "But nothing good comes out of it, it's been ten years."
"Well, do it for yourself then," Yelena suggested.
"What?"
"Closure for yourself, not for her."
IT WAS finally nighttime when you reached your apartment. It wasn't a shady area, you had grown accustomed to it. But you were still cautious.
You knew you could afford a much safer place but it would have to do for the meantime. You were saving up for a house someday in the suburbs, far from the city, with white picket fence and small little feet running around the backyard. Although, it would require someone special to spend that life with and you had not been active on that part. The gods above wouldn't just send you an angel to love, readily available for you. Life doesn't work like that.
The guard stopped you the moment you almost hopped into the elevator of your apartment building.
"Some woman was looking for you, Miss Y/l/n," he said, straightening his eyeglasses. "I think her name starts with one, but I couldn't remember if it's one the number or something else."
You sighed, immediately knowing. Then you stepped out the elevator. "Did you tell her where I live?"
He shook his head. "No. I told her to text you and wait."
"But we have no waiting area?"
"I think she went inside that coffee shop across the street."
BUT SHE wasn't in there when you went to check. The shop was barely empty with last few customers for the day.
"Y/n," the barrista named Christine called. You were a regular in that shop, having to buy coffees every day before you go to work. "Some lady was looking for you."
She said it with a flirty smile, but you hadn't really noticed it until Kate pointed it out one time she visited your apartment and you both decided to get coffee.
"Yeah?" You were hopeful, but glancing around, not a familiar brunette could be seen.
"But she was also looking for alcohol and we don't serve them," she explained. "She probably went to Hydra's bar, I think it's still open."
You knew then to go after her, suddenly panicking as you grew worried for the older woman. You're still a human. You still care for her.
And right you were, there was a commotion inside the bar as two men appeared to be in a heated argument with Wanda on the counter.
"I already told you I'm not interested," you heard Wanda snap drunkenly, although she had no success in getting the men's hands off her.
Growing furious at them, you quickly stomped towards the counter. "Hey, Mom! You're here," you said, forcing a smile.
"Mom?" one of the men asked, making him disinterested and step back. "I didn't know you're already a mother."
You pulled Wanda from the counter as you paid the bartender. He only smiled apologetically your way.
The other man maintained his stance. "Don't worry. I could handle you being a milf."
But you shoved him away, making him lose his balance and stagger until he fell on the floor.
Anger filled you as you hurriedly made your way to the exit with Wanda in tow. She was holding unto you tight, although the way she was swaying, made you wonder if she had waited for you for a long time and had a couple more drinks.
"Mom? I like that." She giggled. "You hadn't called me that for years and outside the bedroom."
Your face flushed red as you carefully crossed the street and led her to your apartment.
"You smell so good, Y/n," she went on, her head on your neck and hand cupping your face, as she laughed heartily. Then her nose leaned in and sniffed you noisily, lips barely touching your skin bringing goosebumps. "I miss you terribly."
Quickly apologizing, you climbed off her and hurriedly went to your drawers.
You had managed to carry her into your apartment. Once you had placed her unto your bed with difficulty, her eyes opened wider as if waking up when both of your faces were merely inches away. You even staggered from her grasp, falling right down on top of her. It would seem others would see this as coupling. You panted breathlessly as your gazes met, your arms holding yourself on each side of her head while hers wrapped around your neck, bodies pressing against each other. Oh, how you miss her too.
Although very against your will, you lent some of your fresh clothes for her to wear for the night. And she looked so much beautiful with her in it as she made her way to your bed. You could feel her eyes at you on the comforter on the floor but you stayed silent, wanting her to understand how you want nothing to do with her. This was just a nice gesture, nothing more.
As you slept, you dreamed about that one night she saved you.
Now you completely don't owe her anything anymore.
640 notes · View notes
ninii-winchester · 3 months
Text
Only Girl
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Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader
Word count : 1.8k
Warnings: smut, oral (m & f receiving), dirty talk, spanking, language, age gap. MDNI NSFW
Part 2 to One of your girls
A/n : I wrote smut for the first time so go easy on me please.
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.
Still pressed against the wall outside the bar, Y/n whimpered waiting for Dean to make a move, Kiss her, touch her, just to do anything. Dean squeezed her hips once before pulling away. She turned around to look at him, her face turned into a small frown. Dean chuckled as he noticed her disappointment.
"As much I'd like to give everyone a show like you did, I'm not fucking you outside a bar for our first time together." Dean said dragging her towards the Impala. The drive back to the motel was quick and the she didn't waste anytime walking inside. Dean slowly followed behind her.
Y/n started walking towards their room but stopped when she saw Dean stopping at the counter, "Room's this way, Dean." She pointed her finger to the hallway. He looked at her but didn't respond, instead he clicked his tongue and turned back to the clerk. She watched him put his credit card on the counter, getting another keycard. Dean took his time walking them to their new room and it was making her go crazy. She wanted him bad, she needed him to fuck her into next week but his unhurried and slow moves were driving her nuts.
He opened the room and let her walk in first, her heart was beating loudly in her chest, anticipation getting the best of her. The moment he stepped inside the room his lips were on hers. Fucking finally. She desperately kissed back, grabbing the back of his head pulling him closer. She let out whine when he pulled apart.
"So needy." He tsked gripping her waist.
"Dean please." She whispered batting her lashes at him. He smashed his lips to hers again, his hands moving down to grab her ass. A moan escaped her lips as he landed a slap on her left ass cheek. He let his tongue graze hers, moving in perfect synchronisation. He picked her up and slammed her back into the door, not breaking the kiss.
"Fuck." He pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily. "Do you really want this?" He questioned in all seriousness, if she wants to stop better now because he knows if he went any further he won't be able to. She nodded her head. "Words, baby."
"Yes Dean, fuck me." Dean groaned when he heard her say that. "Hard." She added and Dean's eyes darkened. He put her back on her feet.
"You have a safe word, sweet girl?" He asked in his deep voice. Y/n could feel her pussy clenching around nothing and clit throbbing.
"Cherry." She replied. Dean nodded before pulling away completely. He walked backwards and she took a step but he stopped her.
"Didn't ask you to move, did I?" He questioned sitting on the edge of the bed and she shook her head, taking a step back. "Now strip, and crawl to me." Whatever self respect she had left, after the bar stunt she pulled, went flying out of the window as soon as those words left his mouth. She worked fast to get off every piece of clothing off her body, once she was completely naked she dropped to knees and crawled towards Dean. She stopped right in front of him, he gave her an approving look. "Good girl." He said grabbing the back of her hair. "You're such a slut for cock aren't you, pretty girl." He pulled her body up so she was sat up straight.
"Only for you cock Dean. I want it so bad." She whimpered, feeling an ache in her throbbing cunt.
"I know sweetheart, isn't that why you acted like a whore in front everyone." Dean taunted unbuckling his belt. He grabbed both of her hands and tied them behind her back using the belt. He unzipped his pants, pulling them down to his thighs, he pulled out his hard dick from the confines of his boxers, Y/n licked her lips watching the pre cum oozing out of the tip. "Now suck like the cockslut you are." She didn't waste a second before wrapping her lips around the tip, sucking it like her favourite candy. Dean threw his head back as she swiped her tongue on underside of his shaft, she then took the whole length inside her mouth, deep throating him, "God fuck baby." He snapped his hips, fucking her mouth, Dean sucked in a breath as she choked on his dick, breathing through her nose. He pulled her hair harshly. "Fuck, that mouth feels like heaven."
She continued licking and sucking, hollowing her cheeks intent on making him cum but Dean had other plans. He grabbed her head to pull her off him but she tightened her lips on his cock, he yanked her off harshly, a string of saliva drooled down her chin. He glared at her.  "You're fucking insatiable." He pulled her to straddle his thigh, he could feel her juices coating his bare thigh. His knuckles brushed against her clit and she gasped. "So fucking wet, just from sucking my cock."
"I've been a good girl haven't I? Make me cum please." Y/n whined. She was getting impatient, she needed her release now, without a thought she started grinding her pussy against his thigh.
"You've been good, go on fucking rut against my thigh, make yourself cum." Dean leaned back on his arms watching her struggle to move on his thigh with her hands bound. Tears of frustration pooled in her eyes and she let out a loud whimper.
"Dean please, need to touch you, I wanna cum on your cock." She cried and he grabbed her face kissing her, at was all teeth and tongue clashing, his hand left her face and moved behind her to undo the belt. As soon her hands were unbound she pulled at his shirt, borderline close to ripping it off. Dean flipped her, so laid on the bed. She moved a bit up and laid her head on the pillows. Dean kicked his jeans and boxers and joined her on the bed.
Dean spread her legs open revealing her glistening pussy. "Look at that, such a pretty pussy." He dragged his fingers over her folds making her clutch the sheets tightly. He didn't waste another second before latching his lips onto her clit, sucking harshly. He then shoved his tongue inside her. "Fuck tastes so good." He groaned into her pussy. "I could stay here forever." Y/n grabbed the back of his head and pushed it to her core. She locked her legs on his shoulder keeping him in place.
"Oh God yea, fuck don't stop." She yelled as Dean continued lapping on her juices. "Yes baby, I'm so close."
"That's it baby, say my name." He groaned, pushing two fingers knuckles deep inside her cunt. And she screamed his name, loudly. "Let everyone know who's making you feel so good." He moaned against her clit, scissoring his fingers inside her, hitting her sensitive spot that made her see stars. "Cum for me, sweetheart." And she did. Hard. she felt her whole body shake as her orgasm came crashing. She panted heavily, Dean continued to suck on her clit making her push at his shoulders slightly but he didn't move, he went on relentlessly, overstimulating her. "Dean fuck." He felt her clench around his fingers again, indicating her approaching orgasm. Dean chuckled darkly before he abruptly pulled away.
"Dean what the fuck." She looked down at him.
"I'm still in charge, hot stuff. You cum when I say you cum." Dean smacked her ass sitting up. He grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her closer to himself, settling between her legs. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around her right nipple, his tongue circling the hardened nub while one of his hands groped her left tit. She reached down between their bodies and grabbing his cock, rubbing the tip over her folds. Dean slapped her tit harshly, "such a whore." he said pulling away from her nipple. "You just can't live without cock, can ya?" Before she could answer he gripped her hips tightly and slammed his cock inside her cunt making her back arch from the bed. He didn't let adjust before pulling out and shoving it back in.
"Oh Dean yes fuck me." She bit her bottom lip as he continued to fuck her at a harsh pace, he pushed her legs over his shoulders, hitting her deep from the new angle.
"Look at that tight little cunt taking me so well." She heard Dean groan above her, his gaze locked on where their bodies meet. Her walls clenched around his length, he continued thrusting, hitting her g-spot. He smacked her ass multiple times, "You're squeezing my cock so hard, you like being spanked, little slut." He landed a few more slaps to her ass, "Is this what you wanted?" He wrapped his hand around her throat, "Putting up a show at the bar, begging for my cock, little slut couldn't even wait for me to get another room. You wanted me to fuck you in that room when Sammy could walk in on us huh? Such a whore aren't ya.?"
"Yes yes fuck I'm a whore for you cock. I'm your cockslut, fill me up, fuck i want it so bad."  She begged reaching down and rubbing her own clit. "I'm gonna cum." She whimpered, "please I can't hold it." She waited for him to give her permission to cum but he took his sweet time.
"Hold it baby, I'm right behind ya." Dean choked out, his thrusts faltering, a telltale sign he's close. "Cum. Fucking cum on my cock." He growled squeezing her throat slightly as he spilled his seed inside her. The coil in her stomach snapped and she let go, spilling her juices all over his cock. He stilled inside her, both of them panting heavily, coming down from their highs. He pulled out of her slowly, she winched slightly suddenly feeling empty. "You okay?" Dean asked looking over at her.
"Yeah." She replied smiling at him.
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" He asked gently and Y/n could feel her heart burst at his softness. As much as she liked him manhandling her, she was loving his softer side.
"Nope, not at all." She replied honestly.
"Okay." He pecked her lips "I'll be back in a second." He went to the bathroom and came out a washcloth. He joined her bed after he helped her clean up. He wrapped his arms around her pulling her closer to his chest.
"Dean." She called out his name softly, "this changes every thing you know that, right?" She whispered lowly.
"Yeah I know but this isn't going to be a one time thing and we'll talk about this tomorrow I promise. You need to rest okay?" Dean replied kissing the top of her head.
"Okay." In the soft after glow, he held her close, peacefully falling asleep in each other's arms.
693 notes · View notes
riizegasm · 22 days
Text
Impure Intentions || L. CY (Anton)
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❀ pairing: chaebol heir!anton x rival!reader, implied fem!reader
❀ genre: enemies to lovers (but not really), fluff, suggestive
❀ word count: ~6.7k
❀ warnings: explicit language, mentions of dysfunctional families, one heated kiss scene
❀ summary: From the day you were born, all you ever heard was, “don’t fall in love with Anton Lee.” A better heir to a multimillion dollar conglomerate would follow their family’s advice. But you…not so much.
❀ a/n: sheesh, talk about writer’s block. This work has taken me so long and so much effort, but i'm very proud of how it turned out! It may have even helped me out of my slump. Also, please don’t judge me too hard. I know nothing about business and corporate families!!! As always, likes, reblogs, and replies are strongly encouraged. Happy reading!
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Your head aches. The lights in the banquet hall are too bright and the clink of gilded silverware is too loud. Polite chatter buzzes around you like a pesky fly evading a swatter. The air is suffocating, overly stuffy with high end perfumes and colognes clouding the space. This is torture; the Lee family banquets always are.
It would be better if you could enjoy the food or engage with the various guests like everyone else does, but this is enemy territory. Your family had made it abundantly clear that this was not an event for fun, but rather for scoping out the competition. Lectures about a corporate acquisition going south and details about poor contracting simply entered in one ear and left via the other. You didn’t care why you had to be there. The knowledge of your forced attendance did enough to damper your mood, especially once you were hit with all of the rules around your presence.
Sit still, look pretty, smile politely, eavesdrop on any corporate plans, and don’t talk to Anton Lee.
You never understood your family’s obsession with keeping you away from him, the prized son and heir of the Lee empire. Everyone made sure to fill your mind with negative opinions and baseless rumors about the young man, as if to deter you from even giving him a chance. It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, however. You’ve never even seen the man, let alone had a conversation with him. Anton Lee was much more of a mythical being than he was a person, in your eyes. He was always whispered about, but never seen.
From what you gathered, he was around your age, tall, broad, and supposedly extremely handsome. He was known for his overly harsh demeanor, rumored to command a room with a simple word. His presence apparently spoke volumes, enough to speak to his blunt nature and bad intentions. It made sense, your parents would always say. After all, he is a Lee.
“Fix your face, honey,” your mother snaps with a forced smile. “You’ll give yourself wrinkles before you turn thirty if you keep scowling like that.”
It takes everything in you to fight an eye roll, biting back the string of expletives waiting on the tip of your tongue. “Sorry. I’m going to run to the powder room.”
You don’t bother to wait for her response before excusing yourself from the cocktail table, getting lost in the crowds of people as you head towards the bathroom. Away from your family, the air feels somewhat lighter, although it still reeks of entitlement. The throb in your head is insistent now, forcing you to escape to find relief.
You find yourself heading towards a set of grandiose double doors, hoping they will lead you anywhere but here. Luckily, your prayers are answered as you step through them onto a stone balcony. The crisp nighttime air does wonders to cool your heated skin, a slight breeze ruffling the loose fabric of your dress.
This is exactly what you needed, space and solace.
“Rough night?”
A soft voice makes you jump out of your skin, whipping your head around to find the source. Its owner leans up against the exterior wall, somewhat bathed in shadow. All you can make out is a glimmer of white teeth, reflecting the moonlight.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the figure apologizes, taking a small step forward into the light.
You feel your breath stutter in your chest as you take in the man. The first thing you notice is his sheer beauty, lips enticingly full and nose broad. His beauty is complemented by his tall stature, the height difference between you two becoming increasingly apparent as he approaches. Like this, bathed in the moonlight, it’s impossible not to notice the broadness of his shoulders and how they taper into a small waist. He fills out his all black suit beautifully, the garments clearly tailored to his every curve.
“Are you alright?” The man asks, stopping only a few feet away.
The concern in his tone is just enough to snap you out of your reverie.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just, um, needed some air.”
The man nods in understanding, leaning over to place his forearms against the balcony’s railing. You struggle not to eye the way his suit jacket stretches across an impossibly wide back. Instead, you mirror his stance, looking out at the beautiful gardens below, bathed in silvery moonlight. Just beyond the seemingly endless maze of hedges, you can make out what looks like a small lake, it’s surface rippling under the nighttime breeze. 
“It can be stuffy in there,” the man says softly. 
You find yourself hanging onto his every word, shocked that such a mild tone could come from such an intimidating man. “Yeah, it really can be.”
The man lets out a small chuckle, no doubt amused by your clear annoyance. “So I take it you’re not in the business.”
“No, I’m–,” you pause for a moment, not sure how much of your identity you should reveal to the stranger. “I’m related.”
He chuckles again, this time turning to look at you. “Hm, I guess I could say the same for me, then.”
A round of applause sounds from somewhere inside, and you curse under your breath, knowing your family will kill you for your absence. The man next to you seems unphased, as if he’s used to the party going on without him.
“I think I should get back.”
The man flashes you a smile, its brightness almost blinding in the dark. “That’s okay. It was nice chatting with you…”
“Y/N. And you are?”
“Anton,” he whispers. “I hope I can see you again, Y/N.”
An icy chill travels up your spine, momentarily freezing you in place. But you force yourself to remain composed, plastering a smile on your face. You silently thank your years of etiquette training and the countless social events you have had to smile for. With a slight nod of your head, you disappear back through the double doors, instantly choking on the scent of Chanel No. 5.
.        .        .
It’s easy to believe that your first encounter with Anton Lee would be your last, especially as the weeks pass without a single sign of him. It makes sense that he wouldn’t start making regular appearances at events after attending just once. He has managed to spend twenty years staying out of the spotlight, and you can’t imagine that changing now. 
But, for some reason, you can’t help but search for him in the crowd of every gala or at the tables of any grandiose banquet.
He would be easy to spot, with his overwhelming height and dazzling smile. Maybe his honey brown hair would be slicked back off his forehead this time, or maybe it would hang in front of his eyes to conceal his bright gaze. You’re sure that he would still talk in that overly soft tone of his, somehow managing to command a room without a change in volume. 
Even his absence begins to feel like a presence in and of itself, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You tell yourself that it’s simple intrigue and nothing more. The first time you had ever laid eyes on your supposed family nemesis had been on a balcony bathed in the moonlight. Where had he been all these years?
More importantly, why had he disappeared again?
The question runs through your mind as you accept a flute of champagne from a waiter, eyes flitting around the charity dinner in hopes of spotting a specific someone. Somewhere near the front of the banquet hall, the Lee family is seated at a table with a few other wealthy families, but their oldest son is nowhere to be found. 
You crane your neck to get a better look. Just to be sure, you tell yourself. But the contorting you force yourself to do has you leaning right back into a waiter, your elbow knocking into his empty tray. The sudden movement has your champagne flute slipping out of your grasp, icy bubbles splattering across your chest and down the front of your dress. You can practically feel the daggers that your mother is shooting you from across the table, always having scolded you about the embarrassment that comes along with being a klutz. Before she can part her lips to tell you off, you excuse yourself politely, dashing out to find a restroom to freshen up. 
You let your heeled feet carry you through a maze of hallways, side stepping waiters and party guests as you move further and further away from the event space. It’s only when you travel down a flight of stairs that you find yourself a seemingly private restroom, briefly stepping inside to clean yourself up. No matter how much you dab at the stain in the center of your bust, the wine doesn’t seem to budge. You thank the heavens that it was champagne instead of a red, saving you some degree of embarrassment.
After a few minutes in the restroom, you find yourself wandering around, ending up in a much more secluded lounge space, equipped with a couple of couches surrounding a coffee table. You immediately collapse onto one, sighing as the ache in your feet finally lifts. 
It’s only then that you feel your eyes begin to sting, a familiar rush of heat striking your face as a lump begins to form in your throat. The sticky sweet smell of champagne still clings to your body, your dress uncomfortable where the alcohol seeped into it. You’re sure that you look a mess, knowing that tear smudged makeup would be the last thing to complete your disheveled look. 
“Another rough night?”
The soft rasp of a voice instantly has you perking up, breath caught in your throat as you take in the tall figure approaching you. His crisply pressed suit hugs his broad shoulders and cinches at an impossibly small waist. His lips are quirked upwards into a small smirk, clearly teasing. Something about it is enticing, setting off a stampede in your stomach.
“How could you tell?” You mumble, trying not to stare as Anton settles into a lounge chair across from you.
The man’s smirk just deepens. “Wild guess. What happened?”
“I spilled champagne on myself and now I look a mess.”
“You don’t,” Anton states, smirk dropping from his face. “You could never look bad.”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “How would you even know that? You’ve only seen me twice.”
Anton chuckles, finally relaxing into the plush of his chair. His legs separate ever so slightly at the action, allowing you to admire his mile-long legs. It’s almost frustrating, how perfect he looks. You imagine that if anyone never looks bad, it’s him.
“I’ve seen you way more than twice, Y/N.”
The simple statement has you turning your eyes away from his figure, meeting his open gaze. He seems so casual, so unbothered, as if that one sentence hasn’t turned your world upside down.
“Wait, what?” You find yourself tripping over your words in the rush to get them out. “Wh-what do you mean you’ve seen me more than twice? I only met you the first time at that contracting dinner a few weeks ago.”
Anton chuckles again, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “Yeah, that was the first time we’ve met, but I’ve seen you so many times. You and your family have been at every major event since we were kids. How could I not see you?”
“But, I’ve never–,”
“I know,” Anton interrupts. “I like to stay outside or in whatever lounge areas I can find. These things always make me really anxious.”
Wow, you didn’t expect such an honest admission from a man of Anton’s status. If anything, his candor makes him much more attractive, as if he could get even more perfect.
“You know we’re supposed to hate each other?” He asks, a small smile making his eyes crinkle at the corners. “Apparently you’re my rival in the field, and I’m supposed to hate everything you say and do.”
Unfortunately, you know the feeling, causing you to let out a small giggle. “Oh trust me, I know. Do you, though?”
“Hate you?”
You nod, fighting a smile as Anton pretends to think.
“Nah,” he eventually answers. “My grandfather taught me from a very young age that I should never harbor negative feelings for beautiful women.”
The implication has heat rushing to your face, forcing you to struggle to keep your composure. “Well, my family has always told me that attractive men always have impure intentions.”
Anton chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He takes a beat before standing, letting his eyes rake over your still seated figure as he begins to retreat down the hallway. It’s impossible to decipher where the intensity of his gaze stems from. He eyes you as if he were hungry, trapping you against the couch with his stare alone.
“Then let me show you just how impure my intentions are.”
The man is gone with little more than a wink and a smile, leaving you with warm cheeks and the scent of champagne clouding your nose. 
.        .        .
You’re surprised to see Anton as soon as the next event, only three weeks later. It’s a simple charity ball for some rare disease research, but for some reason, Anton has decided not to hide in the shadows for this event. It’s interesting to watch how despite his supposed anxiety, he is clearly in his element. He greets everyone kindly, shooting various guests a charming smile as he is introduced to them. His father looks proud of him, a hand kept clapped over his shoulder the entire time. 
You wonder if he’s comfortable like this, with a blur of people and faces constantly passing by him. However, you are instantly snapped out of your wondering when a manicured hand grips your shoulder. The feeling of your mothers lips close to your ear sends a shiver down your spine, a perpetually bad omen. 
“Straighten up,” she scolds. “We’re going over to talk to the Lees. Their son is making a public appearance at an event like this for the first time. No funny business.”
You would laugh if not for the uncomfortable way her nails dig into your shoulder. It forces you to instantly fall in line behind your father, taking a deep breath as you get closer to the Lees. What is only a few seconds feels like hours until you finally stand face to face with your supposed rival. 
“Yoon Sang, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” your father greets, shaking the hands of the head of the Lee family. 
He even leans in to place a friendly kiss on Mrs. Lee’s cheek. You find yourself standing frozen in place as the parents exchange greetings, unable to do anything but stare at the man before you. He sports his signature charming smile, mouth full of perfectly white teeth on display. Not for the first time, you feel your face grow warm. 
“We thought it was about time for our Y/N to meet Anton. After all, they will be competitors when they take over the respective businesses, right?”
Your father’s comment snaps you back to attention. However, you are immediately distracted by the feeling of Anton’s large hand engulfing yours, his palm both warm and surprisingly soft to the touch. You have to glance upwards to meet his eyes, but it’s impossible to miss the amused glint in his stare. 
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I have heard so much about you.”
You force a smile on your face. “The pleasure is all mine.”
It’s easy to tune out the conversation after that, letting the adults blabber on while you reminisce about the feeling of Anton’s hand in yours. The man seems to be similarly distracted, clearly eyeing your figure. The silence between you speaks volumes, and you hope your parents are too deaf to hear it. 
“We would love to have Anton over at our headquarters sometime,” your mother suggests, her piercing voice rising above the noise of the ball. “I’m sure Y/N would be happy to show him around!”
You don’t even have time to process the full body panic that begins to overcome you before Anton’s family is readily agreeing. 
“I agree that it would be great for them to know the ins and outs of the business,” Mr. Lee replies with an overly saccharine smile. “We would love to have Y/N over for lunch at the estate as well. Who knows? Maybe they’ll find themselves to be friends.”
Your dad chuckles, obviously disgusted by the thought. “You’re so right. The two might even do a merger some day!”
As the group erupts into phony laughter, you feel the beginnings of a migraine tingling behind your left eye. Something about the cacophony of laughs and the dull classical music is making you ache, your stomach starting to swim with nausea. You dare a glance upward, fighting the pain that blooms in your head with the motion. 
Anton’s gaze is bright where it meets yours, a soft smile poised on his full lips. His cheeks are dusted with a slight blush, clearly flustered by the implications. There’s a slight fidget in his fingers, twirling expensive rings as a means of soothing himself. 
He’s cute, you realize, not for the first time. 
It’s only after a few more moments that the families say goodbye, the Lees promising to send a lunch invitation soon. Anton shoots you another smile before he follows behind his family, suddenly looking small despite his large stature. You can’t help but smile as you watch his departure, suddenly realizing that your migraine has disappeared. 
.         .         .
The Lee estate is just as gorgeous as you expected it to be, with tall stone gates and artfully placed landscaping. It looks impossibly large from where you’re seated in the car, causing nerves to begin to creep up your spine. You pass off the butterflies that begin to flutter in your core as obvious intimidation that comes with being on the property of your family’s biggest rivals. It surely has nothing to do with an overly soft voice, broad shoulders, and kind eyes. 
“Remember,” your mother had told you before sending you off. “This is business. Reveal nothing and absorb everything. And most importantly, remember that Anton Lee is not your friend.”
You take a step out onto the perfectly paved driveway, surprised to already see someone standing by the door. Anton seems to perk up when you lock eyes, shooting you a polite smile. His wave betrays his excitement, though. You imagine that if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging. 
“Y/N, hey! I’m glad you actually came.”
“Please,” you shoot him a cheeky smile. “As if I could ever turn down an invitation from the Lee family.”
Anton lets out a slight groan. “Don’t remind me that this is ‘business.’”
“Well then what would you like for me to call it?”
Anton shrugs, turning to hold the front door open for you. It’s only when you pass through the threshold, Anton still standing behind you that he responds. 
“A lunch date.” Before you have the chance to respond, Anton is shutting the door behind you both. “Come this way. Food’s on the patio.”
It takes a few turns down intricate hallways to get to a set of double doors that lead to the patio. As promised, there’s an assortment of sandwiches and salad laid out on a round table, two seats set across from each other. You would be impressed, if not for the even more stunning view that lay before you. 
The patio looks out on sprawling gardens, tall bushes and blooming flowers swaying softly in the breeze. A little beyond the landscaping, a wooden dock leads out to a large pond, its greenish-blue water seemingly sparkling under the midday sun. 
“Wow, this is beautiful,” you breathe out, unable to take your eyes off the sight before you. 
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it? My parents have always had an affinity for water.”
You imagine that all of their properties have pools or lakes, much like this one. Meanwhile, your own family prefers the hustle and bustle of the concrete jungle, never expanding beyond brutalist modern penthouses in the tallest apartment buildings in the city. It must be nice, you imagine, to have a space that feels like a home and not just another office. 
Eventually, the two of you sit, settling into a comfortable silence as you distribute food amongst yourselves. It’s quite amusing to watch Anton as he eats, clearly possessing the hunger of a growing young man while forcing himself to take small bites and practice the etiquette of an heir. You wonder if you look the same, so obviously restrained while you want to let loose, if only for a bit. 
Despite the fact that you haven’t seen another person since you set foot in the Lee estate, you know that people must be somewhere. There are always eyes on you. 
“I’m surprised that your family was so adamant about having me over,” you begin, settling back in your chair. “I thought I was the enemy.”
Anton smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well you know what they say. Keep the enemy close and all that.”
“Is that what you want to do? Keep me close?”
You know you’re treading in dangerous waters. All it would take is one word about the obvious flirting to Anton’s parents for you to become your family’s disgrace. You can practically see the headline now: Conglomerate Heiress Gets Rejected By Rivals’ Son. Your family would disown you. And yet, as color begins to flood Anton’s cheeks, you can’t find it within yourself to care. 
“Yeah,” he says, voice coming out even softer than usual. “I think that is what I want to do.”
You duck your head, clearing your throat in an attempt to settle the flutter in your stomach. “I’d like that.”
A sudden interest in lunch leaves both of you munching away in silence. It’s peaceful, despite blushing cheeks and racing heartbeats. It allows you to realize that being around Anton is unlike being around anyone else in your family’s circle. Here, there’s no pressure to be prim and proper, no pressure to listen out for secret ins and outs of business. 
It’s odd to find comfort in the one person who is supposed to bring you anything but. And yet, with the warmth of the sun on your face and the pleasant fullness in your belly, you’ve never felt more at home. 
“You know,” Anton starts once you have both cleared your plates. “I think we’re supposed to be talking about business.”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Can I be honest?”
Anton nods slightly, honey brown hair shifting across his forehead. 
“The business is the last thing I want to talk about.”
Anton smiles. “Trust me, I feel the same way.”
There’s a beat of silence, the two of you content to simply sit as the breeze ruffles the flowers that dot the landscape. When Anton speaks again, you watch his mouth, noting the way that his lips hold the same hue of the red tulips in the nearby flower bed. 
“Can I show you something?”
The simple question has your gaze flickering back upwards, trying to ignore the way your heart races when his eyes meet yours.
“Sure,” you whisper, words instantly carried away by the wind. 
Following behind Anton through the grass proves to be harder than you imagined, his long legs allowing him to move with a grace and speed that is difficult to match. He leads you in between a maze of flower beds, bringing you deeper into the garden until you’re surrounded by tall hedges on either side. From here, it’s impossible to see the house, so you just continue to follow behind Anton. You find yourself eyeing the broadness of his shoulders and the way his shirt shifts across the muscles of his back as he walks. It’s hypnotizing, so much so that you don’t realize that you have arrived at your destination. 
“This is my thinking spot,” Anton says with a little flutter of his arms, clearly trying to present the space to you. 
The hedge maze has opened up to a small central pocket, not housing much except for a small fountain and a stone bench. Anton is quick to take a seat, motioning for you to occupy the space next to him. It’s a bit of a squeeze, putting you and Anton close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin on your own. You dig your nails into the stone of the bench, hoping that it will steel your nerves. 
“I like to come out here when my parents get in my head about the business. It’s pretty peaceful.”
“Yeah,” you say softly, despite knowing that no one is within earshot. “It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah, it really is.”
There’s an airiness to Anton’s voice that has you turning to face him. You take in a sharp inhale when you notice that his eyes are already on you, the close proximity leaving your faces mere inches away from each other. The overwhelming rush of blood in your ears forces you to turn away, taking a deep breath to calm your thundering heartbeat. 
“You take all the girls here?” You aim for teasing, but the slight break in your voice makes it err more on the side of desperation. 
Anton shakes his head earnestly. “You’re the first person I’ve brought here who isn’t my family.”
The admission feels like a sucker punch to the gut. Except there’s no pain, just a rush of warmth that climbs up your throat like ivy. Anton is clearly surprised as well, his own words deepening the pretty flush that has taken hold on his cheeks. His bottom lip is trapped by his teeth, its plushness oh so enticing in the afternoon sun. 
“Y-you know,” you stutter out, swallowing thickly before continuing. “When you said you had impure intentions, I thought you were joking.”
“I don’t think I could joke about how bad I want you.”
It should feel like a corny line. It should feel like something he says to all the girls. After all, he’s Anton Lee. He could get anyone he wanted at the drop of a hat. So why does it feel so real when he says it to you? Why does it feel like those words are meant for you, and only you?
Anton’s gravity is pulling you closer, allowing you to lean further into his space. You’re close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your face, coming out in gentle puffs that reveal just how fast his heart is racing. He has released his bottom lip by now, leaving it glossy with saliva. It’s impossible not to anticipate the smooth glide of it against your own. 
A sudden vibration snaps you both out of your bubble, the two of you popping apart as if you were repelling magnets. It takes a few seconds for you to realize that the vibration is coming from your own phone, buzzing incessantly. You shoot Anton an apologetic look before stepping away to take the call. 
“We need you back home,” your mother rushes from the other side of the line, not bothering to waste time greeting you. “Your father wants to hear about your business with the Lees before he heads to his strategy meeting in an hour.”
“But the Lee house is thirty minutes away!”
You can practically hear your mother’s eye roll over the phone. “Then you better get going.”
.         .         .
Business meeting, my house at 4pm?
The text comes as both a surprise and the most expected invitation in the world. In your flurry to leave his house the week before, you had made sure to leave the man with your number. In turn, he smiled wide, promising to invite you over for another “business meeting” soon. 
Before you can inquire about how much business will actually be necessary to discuss, your phone buzzed again. 
My parents just left for a business trip to Milan. 
A flutter rushes through your stomach at the implications. It’s clear what that means, that the two of you will finally have a chance to act on your chemistry without the watchful eyes of competitive families. The two of you will finally get to exist as your own people, and not as rivals and heirs of major global conglomerates. 
The thought alone has you spending extra time on your appearance as you get ready. You make sure your hair sits just right and that your lips are perfectly glossy before pulling on a swimsuit and heading over. You try your best to remain as still as possible during the entire ride there, knowing that nerves in combination with the late summer heat will be enough to set you aflame. 
Your heart is slamming in your chest by the time you finally pull into Anton’s driveway. It’s accompanied by a soft flutter of affection when you spot Anton’s figure, waving at you from the doorway. The wide smile on his face alone is enough to melt you. But the relaxed fit of his muscle tee and the way his swim shorts sit low on his hips has your face flooding with heat. 
He greets you with a tight hug when you cross the threshold into the house. You try not to swoon at the firm pressure of his arms around your torso, ignoring the heat of his bare skin on your own. Anton had never touched you before, not beyond a simple handshake exchanged in front of parents, always respectful to a fault. For the first time, you find yourself grateful for that fact, knowing that now that you’ve had a taste of his touch, you will forever be addicted. 
“I’m so happy to see you,” Anton gushes. “My parents have been really getting on my nerves about business and competition lately.”
“So you decided to invite the competition over to chill?”
Anton smiles, cocking his head in a puppy-like manner. “No, I invited the competition over to swim!”
So that’s why he reminded you to wear a bathing suit mere minutes before you left for his house. It makes sense, from the minimal texts that the two of you exchanged. Anton was always excited about the balanced heat of late summer, citing it as the perfect time for a lakeside swim. You wouldn’t know, of course, never having the luxury of having a lake in your backyard.
“What about your staff?”
“I let everyone have the afternoon off,” Anton responds proudly before letting his smile sink into something softer, more private. “I just wanted us to have some time alone.”
The simple admission rings out loudly in the otherwise quiet house. It’s clear how badly Anton wants this, how bad he wants your company despite the taboo that comes with it. Unsurprisingly, you find yourself wanting it just as bad, if not more. You’ve never craved anyone’s presence the way you have craved Anton’s, despite him being the one person in the world that you supposedly need to keep your distance from.
A small nod on your end is enough for Anton’s smile to grow once again, pearly whites on full display as his eyes wrinkle at the corners. The sight alone has your heart beating a little harder in your chest, the minor flutter in your abdomen growing into a full stampede of emotions. The feeling only intensifies as Anton engulfs your hand in his, lacing your fingers together as he leads you out into the backyard.
The late afternoon sun sparkles against the water, illuminating everything in a blue-yellow glow. It’s the most captivating sight for miles, you’re sure, until Anton begins to take his shirt off. The way his muscles shift under his unblemished skin rivals the beautiful surface of the lake, sparkling in its own way. His shoulder blades dance across his back enticingly as he leans down to remove his socks and shoes.
He shoots you a smile over his shoulder before cannonballing right into the water.
It takes only a few seconds for the man to reemerge, slicking his honey brown hair off of his forehead. His biceps bulge with the movement before waving you into the water. It’s as clear of a signal as any, but you can’t help but hesitate, suddenly shy at the thought of stripping down to your bikini in the presence of such a man. But the delicate reflection of sunlight in his eyes and the easy smile on his face is enough to draw you in.
Before you know it, you’re discarding your clothes, taking a running head start to join Anton in the water.
Your skin is submerged in an icy chill, the water surprisingly cool for so late in the day. But soon the warmth of another body is nearing, making the cold that much more bearable. You resurface with a giggle, giddy from the feeling of swimming so long. Instantly, Anton is joining in, clearly happy seeing you filled with such glee. 
“Fuck, it’s cold!” You exclaim, shrieking when Anton splashes a bit of water your way. 
“It’ll get better,” Anton grins. “You just gotta keep swimming.”
It’s easy to do as told, letting your body relax as you continue to wade in the cool water. Eventually you let yourself fall into your back, feeling the contrast between the warm sun on your face and the cool water surrounding your body. It’s serene, allowing you to let your worries quite literally float away. However, the feeling of a chilled hand grazing your hip is enough to snap you out of your relaxation, scrambling to right yourself in panic. 
“Sorry!” Anton chuckles. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just getting bored without you.”
“It’s okay,” you soothe, finding that the pace of your heart is beginning to quicken for an entirely different reason. 
Anton looks especially beautiful like this, with his damp hair splayed messily across his head and drops of water dripping down his face. The sun has just begun to set, painting Anton’s skin with a beautiful golden hue. His eyes glisten just like the water, sunlight sparkling as it dances across the reflective surfaces. Like this, Anton seems so bright, so luminous, that hating him seems impossible. 
“I’m really glad you came today,” Anton says, his voice dropping to that soft shy tone he always uses in the presence of others. “I’m glad to have someone who gets what it's like.”
You can’t resist the smile that begins to tug on the corners of your mouth. “You’re not just saying this to get my family’s business secrets?”
Anton huffs out a laugh. “No. I’m saying this because I really like you. I like spending time with you, even though I’m supposed to hate it.”
With every word, you find yourself drifting closer to the man, his hand remaining steady on your hip as you tread lightly. Despite the obvious effort to keep your head above water, you feel like you’re drowning. But the slick feeling of Anton’s skin against yours reminds you that you won’t drown. Anton won’t let you. 
“I like you, too.”
The simple admission has Anton’s face flushing, the pretty rose color glistening orange in the light. It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful. You hate to dull his beauty in this moment, but you have to. 
“But what about our families? It’s not like the two of us can ever be anything.”
Anton sighs, his face dropping with realization. “I know, but…is it crazy to say that I don’t care?”
The hand on your hip tightens, pulling you even closer into Anton’s space. It’s close enough that the two of you end up bumping knees every so often, constantly moving to keep yourselves afloat. Here, in his space, you can see the way that his lashes cast subtle shadows on his cheeks. It’s easy to count the few moles that pepper his face and neck, sitting stark upon unblemished skin. 
When his eyes meet yours, it becomes clear what you wish to do. No, what you need to do. 
“Anton,” you whisper. “What did you mean when you said you had impure intentions?”
The man moves to open his mouth, but before he can get the first syllable out, you cut him off. 
“Don’t tell me,” you coo. “Show me.”
You would be lying if you said you never thought about the feeling of Anton’s plush lips on yours. In reality, you spent too many nights lying awake, thinking about the slick feel of his mouth on yours, of the way his large hands would feel clutching onto your body, of the feel of his soft brown strands underneath your fingertips. 
But dreams never compare to the real thing. 
Nothing could compare to the pure bliss of having Anton’s mouth slide against your own. He moves fervently, letting the kiss carry the twinge of desperation that you both have felt since you’ve met. It’s far from the polite way that you expected Anton Lee to kiss, but that makes it that much better. 
His nose grazes your cheek as he tilts his head, angling himself to kiss you deeper. His tongue is warm as it eases its way into your mouth, the warmth a welcome contrast to the chill of the lake. The hand that was once grasping your hip travels down to your backside and thigh, lifting you up to wrap yourself around his waist. It’s improper, at the very least, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when Anton sighs softly into your mouth. 
It feels like ages before the two of you part, chests heaving where they remain pressed together. You’re so close that you imagine that even water can’t exist between you two. Anton’s abdomen is solid where your core is pressed up against him, supporting your weight so that neither of you are at risk of sinking. 
“That,” Anton whispers, “is what I meant by impure intentions. 
You can’t help but giggle at the boy’s breathless tone, suddenly feeling giddy that you were the one to make him this way. You were the one to fluster the ever-perfect Anton Lee. It was you. It’s always been you. 
“Our parents…” you mutter reflexively, your mind a war zone. 
“Hey,” Anton coos, bringing a hand under your chin. 
With just a gentle tilt, you meet his eyes, instantly getting lost in the way his gaze bores into yours. As if he can’t help himself, Anton leans in to place a quick peck on your lips. When you part, a soft whine escapes your lips, mourning the loss of your lover’s kiss. 
“Y/N, we’ll figure it out. I won’t let this go south because of our parents.”
You nod nervously, trying your hardest to believe in the reassurance that Anton is trying to provide you. As if he could sense the residual nerves, Anton presses his lips against your forehead in a soft kiss. The sensation makes your eyes flutter shut, a content smile beginning to grown on your face. After a brief moment, Anton chuckles. 
“Who knows?” He mutters. “Maybe our parents will get that merger after all.”
.         .         .
[8 years later]
BREAKING NEWS: Lee Enterprises and TOTAL, Inc. have announced a historic merger to form one mega-corporation. This announcement comes one year after CEO and President of Lee Enterprises, Anton Lee, and Chairperson of TOTAL, Inc., Y/N Y/L/N, announced their marriage. The new multinational conglomerate will be known as Lakeside, LLC, and is said to have a current stock value of over five billion dollars.
.FIN.
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winchester-24 · 1 month
Text
Imagine someone threatening you in front of Dean
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You were on a supply run with Dean. You two aren’t getting anything too crazy, just food, medical supplies, and, of course, the usual alcohol. The store you were in had a little area dedicated to seasonal decorations. You noticed it as you and Dean were passing it to get to the medical supplies that were two aisles over. It was August which meant fall and Halloween items were starting to come out for the season. The boys never decorate or do anything fun during the holiday season, but at least this year, you wanted to try to do something small in the bunker.
“Oh, babe can I look at the fall decorations really quick?” You look at him giving him the best pout face you can manage. He looks at you, rolls his eyes, and then kisses your forehead.
“Okay, fine, but nothing too big, I’ll grab the wraps and bandages we need.” You smile from ear to ear as he goes down the medical aisle and you start to browse the decorations. You look at all the cute ceramic decorations, leave theme, pumpkin theme, and some of the Halloween decorations they already have out.
While looking at a tabletop display, a man stands close to you from behind you. You try to move to the side, but he follows your step. When you were about to turn around to confront him, you felt the tip of a knife poking your back. He starts to speak low.
“You are going to follow me nice and easy out now.” You stay calm and collected.
“My boyfriend is two aisles over. It will turn into a really bad day for you if you don’t leave me alone.”
“Nice try; move your ass unless you want me to cut on that pretty face of yours after I force you out of here.”
“What the hell did you just say to my girlfriend?” You hear Dean say. Both you and the man turn around to look at Dean. He looks dangerous. The hard eyes he gets when hunting are the same eyes he gives this man. The man with a knife to you was not tiny, but he wasn’t a vast guy either- he was just average, but Dean could easily take him, especially with what he does for a living, and must fight almost every day. The guy is speechless, obviously not believing when you said you had a boyfriend here.
“Uh, nothing, we were just talking.” The guy stumbles out.
“What I heard is that you were threatening to cut up my girl’s pretty face. Is that what I heard?” The guy, intimidated by Dean, doesn’t reply to him; he stares wide, not knowing what to do in this situation.
“Sweetheart, come here,” Dean says, eyes not leaving the guy that threatened you. You walk to him, but the guy is not attempting to stop you. Dean holds out the bandages to you.
“Go take these and check out. We will go somewhere else for the food. Here are the keys; wait for me there.” You don’t say anything; just nod your head. You start walking away when you hear Dean's punch. You turn your head back but keep walking.
You see the guy on the ground, nose bleeding. Dean has two fists full of his shirt holding him up, and you see Dean dangerously close to the man, no doubt telling him threats that Dean knows he will act on. You turn back to finish heading to the checkout, letting out a little smile.
You tried to tell him.
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