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Heyy guys, currently working on a fic and i desperately need someone to write smut for me because i cannot write smut to save my life. So i would be soo grateful if someone could write the smut and spicy parts for me. just send me a message or inbox— i would be really grateful
now that i’m officially finished with school and f1 and football World Cup are kicking off, i am back in writing mood. i’ve already got some ideas but i’m stuck on a series idea. i want to write an accidental marriage fic based on the book ride with me by simone soltani (if you can, check it out it’s really good) but i can’t decide whether i want to do it for kylian or for lewis so i’m asking you guys
pairing : lewis hamilton x fem!reader | READ PART 1 HERE
summary : Y/n and Lewis going through the typical struggles of marriage (or in other words, the struggle of keeping up the charade of being married)
warnings : THE ANNOUNCEMENT IN THE STORY IS FAKE!!! swearing, kinda angsty, drinking, nail-biting, talking about sex (nothing too detailed), discussions of raising a family, 11-year age gap (reader is 28 years old), smut, hair pulling, unintentional overstimulation, choking, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!)
face claim - gracie abrams
word count : 18.6k
song : agora hills - doja cat
a/n : this isn't proofread and SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, I WAS DEALING WITH SO MUCH PERSONAL STUFF OMG (this was supposed to be fore my 300 followers celebration thing | i might make a separate series for lyka and lando…………………………
July 8, Monday, 7:09 AM
Toto Wolff sits behind his desk, his expression a mixture of surprise and concern. Y/n and Lewis sit on the other side, both looking a bit sheepish and on edge. Toto looks at them, a moment of awkward silence hanging in the air before he finally speaks. "So," he begins, his voice cautious. "I have to say, this is... quite a situation you've gotten yourselves into."
Lewis clears his throat, his gaze meeting Toto's. "Yeah, we kind of... didn't see this coming," he admits, a hint of humor in his tone. "It was a very unexpected development, to say the least."
Y/n fidgets in her seat, her fingers massaging her forehead. She glances at Toto, his expression still unreadable. She tries to sound calm and rational, but her voice betrays her nervousness. "We weren't... fully sober when it happened," she offers lamely, as if it's an excuse.
Toto's eyebrow quirks at this revelation, a hint of disbelief in his voice. "Not fully sober," he repeats, his tone heavy with incredulity. "You got married... not fully sober?"
Lewis grimaces slightly at the bluntness of his words but doesn't deny it. "That... that's correct," he affirms, his voice a bit strained. "We were both a bit... impaired when we tied the knot, let's put it that way."
Toto rubs his forehead, seeming to struggle with how to respond to this information. He gathers himself and looks at them again, his expression more somber now. "And what exactly were you doing that led to this... marriage?" he asks, his tone slightly stern.
Lewis and Y/n exchange a glance, both knowing the answer will likely not help their case. Lewis speaks up first, his voice a bit sheepish. "We, ah... we were at a club. A very lively club, if you understand."
Toto leans forward in his chair, expression now a mix of thoughtfulness and strategy. "Okay," he says, "this is clearly a situation that will need some serious damage control if it gets out. We'll need the PR team to make something, anything to spin this in a way that... minimizes the impact on your image, Lewis, and the teams' reputation."
Y/n coughs, breaking the silence in the room and drawing everyone's attention. She clears her throat, feeling a bit awkward under the weight of Toto and Lewis' gazes. "Um, forgive me," she apologizes, her voice a bit hoarse. "But what... what are you suggesting?"
Toto's eyes shift to her, his expression still calculating. "Well, we need to control the narrative," he explains. "We need to get ahead of any potential media storm and craft a story that… makes this look less like a drunken mistake and more like a… a romantic love story, perhaps."
Lewis can't help but scoff slightly at this, his mouth tugging into a wry smile. "A romantic love story, huh?" he muses, skepticism in his tone. "Do you really think anyone's going to believe that?"
Toto's gaze hardens at Lewis' flippant comment. "At this point, any narrative is better than the truth," he says, his voice firm. "We need to protect your image, Lewis, and the team's reputation. We need to control the damage, and that means spinning this in a way that… makes you both look as good as possible."
Y/n mutters under her breath as Toto and Lewis continue their discussion, unable to hide her growing concern. "My dad is going to kill me," she whispers, her voice a mixture of dread and resignation. She imagines her father's reaction to this news, the fury and disappointment in his eyes.
She finally speaks up, her mind turning to her own interests in this situation. "Wait," she interjects, cutting into Lewis and Toto's discussion. They both turn to her, surprised. "If we're going to go along with this… PR plan, I want something out of it too."
Toto and Lewis look at her, a bit taken aback by her unexpected request. Toto quirks an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "And what is it you want, exactly?" he asks, his tone a mix of curiosity and caution.
Y/n takes a deep breath, her mind racing as she formulates her request. "I want this to benefit me too," she says, her tone firm but tentative. "I don't just want to be a pawn in this charade. I want my own image to be protected, and… I want it to have a positive impact on my future, on my family's company."
Toto and Lewis exchange glances, both surprised but also understanding the logic in her request. Lewis turns to her with slight admiration, a small smile playing on his lips. "That's… very practical of you," he says, his voice carrying a hint of respect.
Y/n's response is matter-of-fact, and her expression is a mix of determination and practicality. "Business is business," she repeats, her tone resolute. "If we're going to play this game, we might as well use it to our advantage, right?"
Toto nods slightly, appreciating her mercenary approach. "You're not wrong," he concedes, a grudging respect in his voice. "If we can use this situation to our mutual benefit, then perhaps it won't be a total disaster."
Lewis looks at Y/n, a gleam of admiration in his eyes at her business-mindedness. "You've got guts," he remarks, a smirk playing on his lips. "I can respect that."
Y/n chuckles a bit at his comment, the humor beginning to shine through despite the seriousness of their situation. "Well," she says with a small laugh, "if you want to get technical, that is one reason we got married, isn't it?"
Toto glares at Y/n, his gaze is stern and reprimanding. Y/n's eyes widen in response, and she immediately feels a pang of regret, realizing she has spoken out of turn. She mutters a quick "Sorry, too soon," her voice a whisper as she shrinks down in her seat.
Toto sighs, his expression softening slightly. "Let's remain professional, please," he reminds her, his tone a bit weary. "We need you to be present at the next Grand Prix, okay? Because by then we'll have the PR statement announced. Lewis can send you the details."
Y/n nods, a bit chastened but also understanding. "Okay," she apologizes again, her voice sincere. "I'll check my schedule if I'm free on... whatever day that is."
Toto nods in acknowledgment, his expression is still weary but slightly less stern. He turns his attention back to Lewis and continues the discussion, the mood in the room now more serious and focused.
With the focus of the conversation now shifted to Lewis and Toto, Y/n pulls out her phone, sensing that she isn't needed in the immediate discussion. She scrolls through her phone, trying to distract herself from the ongoing conversation. Occasionally, she glances up, listening to bits and pieces of the talk, but mostly just biding her time.
Y/n scrolls through her Twitter feed, her eyes scanning over the various news and Tweets. Suddenly, something catches her eye, causing her to stand up from her seat and exclaim a surprised curse word.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Y/n exclaims, her voice laced with disbelief and shock. She stares down at her phone, the blood draining from her face as she processes whatever she has just seen.
Toto and Lewis' heads snap in her direction at the outburst. They look at her, startled and alarmed by her reaction. Toto's brow furrows in concern, and he asks, "What is it? What's wrong?"
Y/n holds out her phone to Toto, her face still etched with shock and disbelief. Toto takes the phone from her, his eyes widening as he looks at the screen. Lewis leans over to look as well, his expression turning serious as he reads whatever is on the screen.
Toto's jaw clenches as he looks at the image, his expression hard and guarded. He glances at Y/n, then back at the phone screen, seeming to be processing the implications of this photo.
Lewis shakes his head, his jaw clenching in annoyance. "That's just perfect," he mutters sarcastically. "As if we didn't have enough to deal with already."
Toto continues scrolling through the tweet and reading comments from fans and media alike. He pauses, seeing several comments speculating that the woman in the photo is actually Y/n. His expression darkens with concern as he reads these comments.
He glances at Y/n, then at Lewis, and sighs deeply. "This is really bad," he says, his voice a low grumble. "If people start connecting the dots… we're going to have a PR nightmare on our hands."
Y/n is silently freaking out, her mind racing with thoughts and worries. She gnaws anxiously on her nails, a nervous habit she has when feeling overwhelmed.
Toto notes her distress but focuses on the practicalities of the situation for the moment, exchanging a few more words with Lewis.
Toto and Lewis quietly discuss the next steps, trying to come up with a damage control plan. Toto occasionally glances at Y/n, noticing her anxious behavior, but doesn't interrupt his conversation with Lewis for the moment.
Y/n suddenly pipes up, interrupting Toto and Lewis' conversation. "Wait," she interjects, her tone a bit frenzied. "What if we lied? What if… what if we said we've been married for almost a year? Like, we got married during the winter break?"
Toto's expression softens slightly as he contemplates Y/n's idea. "It's a possibility," he muses, his voice measured. "Getting married during the off-season would make sense, given the hectic schedule of the drivers. It would be more logical that Lewis would take time off for a wedding rather than a drunken elopement."
Lewis nods, seeing the logic in Y/n's suggestion. "It could work," he agrees, his tone less skeptical than before. "It would at least make the whole situation seem less impulsive and foolish, and more like… a planned commitment."
Y/n continues to gnaw anxiously on her nails, her eyes flitting between Toto and Lewis as she waits for them to make a decision. The weight of the situation, the impending lie they are about to concoct, hangs heavily on her mind.
Toto notices her distress but is still wrapped up in the discussion with Lewis, he decides to address it once they have a plan. "Let's work out the details," he says, his tone business-like. "We need to make sure our story is ironclad, and our timelines line up."
He turns to Y/n, his expression stern but not unsympathetic. "And I suggest you stop chewing on your nails," he remarks matter-of-factly. "We'll need to present a united, calm front, and that doesn't include nervous fidgeting."
Though Y/n stops biting her nails as Toto advises, her anxiety doesn't diminish. She transfers her nervous energy to her palms, starting to scratch and pick nervously at the skin, leaving slight crescent-shaped marks.
Toto notices her new anxious habit but doesn't address it directly at the moment. He and Lewis continue their discussion, fine-tuning the details of the lie they are going to spin. The atmosphere in the room remains tense, but there seems to be a rough plan coming together.
As the meeting draws to a close, Toto excuses himself to take a call from the head of PR. He motions for Y/n and Lewis to wait, and they remain silent in Toto's office as he steps out to take the call.
When Toto returns, he appears even more tense than before. He bids both Y/n and Lewis a rushed farewell, as he needs to deal with the situation with the head of PR. The two of them are left standing in the office, the atmosphere heavy with the weight of the day's events.
Lewis glances at Y/n, her face slightly pale and tired from the stress of the situation. He can tell that she's still anxious and tense, and he reaches out to gently squeeze her hand, offering a small gesture of comfort. "Hey," he says in a soft voice, "it's going to be okay. We're… we're going to get through this."
Y/n looks up at him, her eyes weary and full of worry. She tries to force a small smile, appreciating his attempt at reassurance. "I hope so," she replies, her voice a bit shaky. "I just… I hope we can pull this off. The lie…"
Lewis nods in understanding. "I know," he says, his tone sympathetic. "It's a lot to take on. But we don't have many options at this point. If we don't control the narrative, someone else will, and…" he trails off, the implication clear.
Y/n nods, knowing that he's right. "I get it," she mutters, her voice laced with resignation. "I just… I didn't sign up for all this, you know? All this… lying, and spinning stories, and… pretending."
Y/n lets out a humorless chuckle, her voice resigned. "You're telling me," she says sarcastically. "I didn't even sign up for this marriage, not while I was sober at least... and now I have to lie about it, pretend it was pre-planned, and… play the part of the dutiful wife."
She shakes her head, the absurdity of the situation weighing heavily on her shoulders. "It's just… surreal," she continues her tone a mix of disbelief and frustration. "A few days ago, I was a private person, living my life, and now I'm suddenly… a married woman, the center of a media shitstorm, and I'm expected to lie about it all like it's no big deal."
As they walk down the halls, Y/n is still somewhat zoned out, her mind preoccupied with the stresses and worries of the day. Lewis is right beside her, his hand occasionally on her lower back, providing silent moral support. They pass by other team members and staff, and more than a few curious glances and whispers follow them, aware of the situation unfolding but unwilling to speak openly.
They reach the parking lot, and Lewis turns to Y/n, his expression concerned. "Do you want me to drive you home?" he asks gently, his tone sincere. "You look exhausted."
Y/n nods, her fatigue clearly visible in her eyes and demeanor. "Yeah," she replies, her voice a weary whisper. "That would be great, thanks. I'm… I'm feeling pretty wiped out."
Lewis nods in understanding and leads her towards his car. The trip to her home is mostly silent, both of them too emotionally drained to talk much. Lewis occasionally glances at her, checking if she is okay. Y/n just gazes out the window, her thoughts far away.
He follows the directions given by Y/n to her apartment. The car ride is quiet, neither of them speaking much due to the weight of the situation on their minds. Once they arrive at her apartment, Lewis parks the car but doesn't immediately get out. Instead, he turns to her, his expression a mixture of worry and concern.
Lewis watches as Y/n unbuckles her seatbelt and reaches for the door handle. Before she can open the door, he turns to her and asks, "You're going to be okay, right? You'll be okay alone? I can stay with you if you want."
Y/n offers a weary smile, touched by Lewis's concern. "I… I'll be fine," she assures him, her voice soft but strained. "You don't need to stay. I just… need some time to process all this. Alone."
Lewis accepts her decision to be alone, though his expression remains worried. "Okay," he says softly, "Take care of yourself, alright? And… call me if you need anything. Anytime, okay?"
She nods slightly, appreciating his offer. "Thanks, I will," she replies. "I'll… I'll be fine. I just need a bit of space to clear my head."
Y/n exits the car, her movements slow and weary. The weight of the situation seems to hang heavily on her shoulders as she stands outside her apartment, looking up at the building.
Lewis watches her from the driver's seat, a mixture of concern and sadness on his face. He waits a moment to make sure she gets inside safely before driving off.
July 8, Monday, 10:37 AM
As Y/n begins to unlock her apartment door, she hears the familiar sound of her cat meowing on the other side. The sound is both a comfort and a further reminder of her responsibilities, and she feels a pang of fondness mixed with exhaustion.
After unlocking the door, she pushes it open and is immediately met with the soft sound of her cat rubbing against her legs, meowing for attention. Y/n bends down and scoops up the cat in her arms, holding it close to her chest, seeking comfort in its presence.
She holds her cat “Extra Virgin Olive Oil” (“Evoo” for short) close, the familiar warmth and weight of her furry companion a soothing presence. The ridiculousness of the name, a result of yet another drunken decision, momentarily brings a bittersweet smile to her lips.
Y/n walks into the apartment, closing the door behind her and making her way to the living room. She sits down on the couch, setting her bag on the floor before setting Evoo down on her lap and gently stroking his white fur. The soothing motion and rhythmic purring of the cat help to calm her tumultuous thoughts.
As Y/n sits on the couch, gently stroking her cat, she begins to speak to him in a soft, quiet voice. Although it’s not unusual for people to talk to their pets, there’s an undertone of vulnerability in her words, unloading her worries to a receptive but silent companion.
“Hi, baby,” she begins, her voice laced with exhaustion. “You won’t believe the day I’ve had.” She continues to idly pet the cat in her lap, the gentle motion seeming to soothe her as much as her cat. “I… I’ve gotten myself into a real mess, you know? Things are… complicated, to say the least.”
She leans her head back against the couch, her fingers continuing to absently run through the white cat’s fur. “I know you’re just a cat, and you probably don’t understand what I’m saying. But it helps, talking to you like this. It helps to get it all out, even if you can’t talk back.”
As Y/n continues to talk, the words flow out of her in a rushed confession. “And… that’s not even the craziest, Evoo,” she murmurs, shaking her head slightly. “I got married. Can you believe that?”
Her cat, as if responding to her words, looks up at her with its large eyes, seemingly bewildered by the revelation. It tilts its head as if asking “What?!”
Y/n lets out a soft, humorless chuckle at her cat’s reaction, continuing to stroke its fur. “Yeah, I know. It’s crazy, right?” she continues, her voice still heavy with exhaustion but holding a hint of irony. “I… I got married, and I don’t even remember most of it. Isn’t that just wild?”
She pushes aside her exhaustion and moves from the couch, placing Evoo gently on the nearby rug. She then remembers to change her cat’s water bowl, her actions automatic and routine. As she fills the bowl from the kitchen sink, she glances back at her cat, still resting on the rug.
“Don’t worry, bud,” she calls out, her voice slightly less weary, “He’s… he’s a good guy. I think.”
After refilling the water bowl, Y/n returns to the living room, her mind still swirling with the day’s events. She glances at Evoo, who is now lapping up the fresh water. For a moment, she wishes her life was as simple as a cat’s, where the most pressing concern was the next meal, not an unexpected marriage and a web of lies.
Y/n rubs his head one last time before straightening up. “Alright, buddy,” she says, her tone softer now that she’s attending to her cat’s needs. “I’m going to take a bath. Be a good boy while I’m gone, alright?”
She sits in the bathtub, the water warm and comforting, surrounding her tired body in a soothing embrace. An iPad is placed on a wooden bath tray near the edge of the tub, playing a movie that she’s only partially paying attention to.
In her hand, she holds a glass of lemon water, taking small sips every now and then as she there, letting the hot water work its relaxing magic.
The scent of lavender from a bath bomb fills the room, adding to the atmosphere of calm and tranquility. However, despite the peaceful setting, Y/n’s mind remains restless, the events of the day still weighing heavily on her thoughts. Despite trying to focus on the movie, she finds her mind wandering back to the marriage, the lie, the future.
As the stream from the bath billows around her, Y/n takes another small sip from her lemon water, her mind still spinning. The bath was intended to relax her, to wash away the tension of the day, but her thoughts stubbornly refused to let her rest. She tries to force herself to watch the movie, to focus on something other than her worries, but the events of the day keep flooding back.
The heat of the bath, combined with the subtle fragrance of the lavender, should be lulling her into a tranquil state, but her mind is too chaotic, too filled with worries and regrets. She takes another sip of her lemon water, the tangy taste reminding her of the sourness she feels inside, the unease that hasn't let her go since this whole mess began.
Y/n is wrapped in a towel, her wet hair sticking to her shoulders as she steps out of her bedroom and into the living/dining space. She's surprised to see Lyka walking in with a bright smile, a stark contrast to her own weary state.
Y/n, still wrapping the towel around herself, glances up at Lyka through wet strands of hair. "You seem unusually cheerful," she remarks, her tone slightly teasing as she reaches the kitchen and sets her glass down in the sink. Evoo brushes against her leg, seeking attention, and she gives the cat a gentle pat before turning back to Lyka. "What's up?"
Lyka's eyes sparkle with excitement and a hint of pride. "The best night ever," she echoes, her smile widening. "You won't believe it, Y/n. I hooked up with the DJ."
Y/n raises her brows in surprise and recognition. "Oh, Lando?" she asks, a hint of amusement in her tone. "I saw you dancing with him at the booth last night."
Lyka blinks in surprise when Y/n says Lando's name, her excitement now mixed with a touch of curiosity. "Yeah!- Wait, how do you know his name?" she asks, her expression a mix of surprise and intrigue.
Y/n settles onto a bar stool, opening the wrapper to a small piece of chocolate. She takes a small bite of the chocolate and continues talking to Lyka as she munches on the sweet treat. "I became friends with one of Lando's friends last night," she explains, a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
Her playful smile fades as the memory of her marriage hits her like a ton of bricks. She chokes mid-sentence, the taste of chocolate turning bitter in her mouth. "I... um..." she stutters, her mind racing to find a way to explain.
"I... I have something to tell you," she manages to continue, her voice a bit strained. She sets the chocolate bar down, her appetite suddenly gone. "And... it's kind of a big deal. Like, a really big deal."
Lyka's expression changes as she senses the seriousness in Y/n's tone. Her eyes widened slightly, and she leaned in, her face replaced by a look of concern. "What is it?" she asks, her voice low and worried.
Y/n takes a deep breath, bracing herself for the reaction that's about to follow. "I..." she starts, her voice faltering as she struggles to find the right words. "I... I got married."
There's a moment of stunned silence as Lyka processes Y/n's confession. Her eyes widen even further, and her hand grips the countertop, her knuckles turning white. "You... you what?" she manages to stutter out, her voice a mix of shock and disbelief.
"And... it may or may not have been a friend of Lando's...." Lyka's eyes widen even further when Y/n clarifies that the person she married is a friend of Lando. "Wait..." she starts, her mind spinning with the implications. "You married one of Lando's friends? Who..."
Y/n hesitates for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest. She swallows hard, preparing herself for the fallout. "Lewis," she finally manages to say. "I... I married Lewis."
As Lyka tries to remember if Lando mentioned anything Lewis, a flicker of recognition appears in her eyes. "Wait..." she says, her soft soft as she recalls the conversation with Lando. "Lando mentioned something about a party of celebrate one of his friends' win. Was that Lewis?"
Y/n doesn't trust herself to speak, so she just nods in affirmation. She can see the pieces falling into place in Lyka's mind, her friend digesting the information with a mix of surprise and confusion.
Lyka lifts her hands in a gesture of disbelief, her voice filled with a mixture of amusement and incredulity. "I swear, the universe has a weird sense of humor when it comes to you and alcohol," she says, shaking her head. "Seriously, the weirdest things happen to you when you're drunk. It's like you're attracting weirdness or something."
As Y/n gets up to change, she can't help but notice that Lyka is wearing a hoodie she doesn't recognize. She decides to bring it up later, as they have plenty to discuss when they regroup in the kitchen.
"Alright, let's change and meet here in five," Y/n suggests, her tone a bit lighter now. "We'll compare our crazy nights, and you can tell me about your new hoodie too," she adds with a smile.
Lyka flushes furiously as Y/n hints at the hoodie she's wearing, her cheeks turning a deep shade of red. "Oh my god, shut up," she giggles, trying to hide her embarrassment. "It's just a hoodie, okay?"
Y/n grins knowingly as she responds, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, it's Lando's hoodie," she teases, emphasizing the name for effect. "And you're blushing like crazy."
Lyka buries her face in her hands, still blushing profusely. "Ugh, I swear, you're the worst," she groans, half-heartedly swatting at Y/n "Why do you have to point it out like that?"
Y/n laughs, enjoying the sight of her flustered friend. "Alright, alright, I'll stop teasing," she says, her voice filled with amusement. She moves towards her room, still smiling at Lyka's reaction. "You get changed, and I'll do the same. Meet you in the kitchen in five."
Y/n sits next to Lyka, a soft smile on her face. As they settle into their seats by the counter, Lyka begins recounting her night with Lando. Her cheeks are still a little flushed, betraying her excitement.
"So, about last night..." she says, her voice slightly giddy, "I had the best night ever with Lando."
Y/n takes a chip from the bowl on the counter, chewing on it as she listens to her friend's story. "Yeah?" she prompts. encouraging Lyka to continue. "Tell me more. What made it the best night ever?"
Lyka emphasizes her point, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "His hands were skilled," she repeats, her voice lowered to a whisper. "Seriously, Y/n, you have no idea. He was so fucking good."
"His touches, his moves, everything just... wow," Lyka continues, the memory clearly relived in her mind. She takes a sip of her water, her gaze distant for a moment before she focuses on Y/n. "I swear, it was like he knew exactly what to do, and how to do it."
Lyka's excitement reaches a whole new level as she starting bouncing in her seat. "Oh my god," she exclaims, her voice a mix of shock and excitement. "When he was-" She suddenly breaks off, her words catching in her throat.
She cuts off her own sentence, biting her lip as if holding back a secret. There's a mixture of delight and surprise on her face. "He... he was just-" she stammers, struggling to put the experience into words. "It was incredible," she finally manages, her voice full of awe.
Y/n listens intently, smiling at her friend's enthusiasm. She can tell that whatever Lando did, it clearly surpassed Lyka's expectations. "Incredible, huh?" she teases, raising a brow. "Sounds like Lando's got some serious skills there."
Lyka takes a moment to fan herself, the memory of her night with Lando still fresh in her mind. "Yeah... yeah I was," she says, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "I was shaking like a leaf by the time it was done."
She looks down at her hands as if reliving the sensation. "It was tense," she adds, shaking her head in disbelief. "Like, seriously intense. I don't think I could have handled much more."
Lyka lets out a shaky breath, a mixture of pleasure and disbelief in her voice. "Yeah," she replies, her face still flushed. "He just... he just kept going, even when I thought I couldn't take anymore. It was... it was too much, but in the best way possible, you know?"
She takes another sip of her water, her body still feeling the after-effects of Lando's touches. "He knew exactly what he was doing," she adds, a hint of admiration in her voice. "I've never experienced anything like it before."
Y/n can't resist teasing a little more, a sly smile on her face. "Well," she says, raising a brow, "Maybe Lando was just making up for the disappointing performance your ex put on."
Lyka, still flushed and giggling, enthusiastically agrees with Y/n's assessment. "ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY!" she exclaims, her voice loud and clear. "Lando was the complete opposite of my ex. He made up for that shitshow tenfold."
She takes a moment to catch her breath, her face still glowing. She can't help but gush about Lando's attributes, her voice filled with awed excitement. "I swear, he was HUGE," she says, her voice filled with excitement.
Y/n laughs, her eyes wide with a mix of shock and amusement. "Shh, shh, keep it down," she shushes her friend, laughing as she glances toward the wall shared with their neighbors. "The whole building doesn't need to know about Lando's... size."
Lyka, still caught up in the memory of her night with Lando, continues to rave about his skills and his 'size' ''I don't even know how to describe it," she gushes, her voice filled with admiration. "There's just... no comparison. Lando's in a league of his own."
She's so caught up in her praise that she practically glows. "I never knew it could be like that," she admits, her flushed cheeks a clear indication of her satisfaction. "He knows how to handle everything."
Lyka's voice softens as she reflects on the night, her face now taking on a more tender expression. "He was so gentle and caring afterward," she says, a hint of fondness in her tone. "It was like he knew exactly what I needed."
Y/n, curious about the tender side of Lando, asks how exactly he was caring after their night together. Lyka's expression softens even more as she continues. "He was really sweet," she explains. "He held me close, and told me how amazing I was. Kept asking if I was okay, and if I needed anything. Just really took care of me, you know?"
"Oh, and he left me a shit ton of hickeys too," Lyka mentions, causing Y/n to involuntarily spit out her drink in surprise. Y/n's eyes widen as Lyka casually mentions that detail. She was taking a sip of her drink at the same moment, causing her to almost choke on the liquid, spurting it out in surprise. "Hickeys?" she exclaims, her voice slightly strained. "Lando gave you hickeys?"
Lyka grins widely, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She shifts the collar of her shirt to reveal several small, purplish marks on her collarbone and neck. "Yeah," she says, her voice a bit smug. "He marked me up, good."
Lyka lets out a cheeky giggle, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, yeah," she confirms, her voice slightly lower. "He left some on my thighs too, but Lando said those were for his eyes only."
Y/n can't help but stare at her friend in disbelief. Her mouth is still slightly agape, her eyes wide as she processes the information. "For his eyes only, huh?" she manages to say, her voice a mix of disbelief and amusement.
She shakes her head, a little bemused by Lando's possessiveness. "Sounds like Lando wants to keep you all to himself," she teases, grinning. "No sharing allowed."
Lyka grins, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "Oh, absolutely," she confirms, giggling. "We made a deal. He wants to be my friend with benefits," she says, using air quotes, "And I just have to look pretty and make him feel good." She adds with a coy smile, paraphrasing Lando's words.
Lyka brightens up even more, her voice eager and excited. "Oh, and I'm going to his next race too!" she exclaims, bouncing a little in her seat. "I'll be in the McLaren garage, of course. Lando said he wants me there."
Y/n nods, a smile on her face. "I'll be there too, slightly against my will," she confirms, "But I'll be in the Mercedes garage." She glances at her friend, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "This is gonna be fun, watching the race from opposite ends of the garage."
"So... what about your night?" Lyka asks curiously, looking at Y/n with amusement through her eyelashes.
Y/n takes a moment, her mind flashing back to the events of her night. "My night…" she muses, her voice a little dreamy. "Well, it was… eventful, to say the least."
She lets out a soft chuckle, the memory of the night still fresh in her mind. "So, I was on the dance floor, just dancing, and Lewis came up behind me," she recalls, her voice laced with a hint of excitement.
Y/n glances at Lyka before continuing, her voice taking on a wry tone. "Yeah, it was around the time you went to dance with Lando," she says, clearly amused by the coincidence. "Lewis just appeared out of nowhere, tapped me on the shoulder, and we started dancing."
She smiles, her cheeks slightly flushed as she describes the night. "We were talking, flirting a bit," she says, her voice holding a hint of excitement. "He bought me drinks at the bar, and we just… connected, I guess."
Y/n lets out a light laugh, her cheeks flushing a little at the memory. "Yeah, so… eventually… we may have found a secluded spot and, you know, things got a bit heated," she explains, a coy smile playing on her lips. "And I may or may not have told him I'd marry him as a joke."
She shakes her head, still amused by the audacity of her own words. "I don't even know where it came from," she says. "Just a spur-of-the-moment thing, you know? A little drunken banter."
Y/n continues, her voice filled with amusement. "Well, Lewis just chuckled when I said it," she recounts. "I mean, he knew I was just joking, right? But then he just… playfully agreed, you know? Like, he said something like, 'Sure, why not? Let's get hitched.' It was all just goofing around, really."
Y/n sees the look on Lyka's face and knows her friend is judging her, but it's in a friendly way. She laughs, shaking her head. "Hey, don't give me that look," she says, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. "It was just a joke, you know that, right?"
Lyka gives Y/n a sly smile, her voice filled with mock disbelief. "A joke that turned into an actual marriage," she repeats, her tone dripping with cheeky sarcasm. "Wow, I hope Lewis doesn't mind waking up to your morning breath every day."
Y/n playfully smacks Lyka's arm, laughing. "Hey, my morning breath isn't that bad," she protests, her voice light with feigned offense.
She then swats at Lyka again, her smile broadening. "And for the record, I would make an amazing wife," she boasts, her voice half-joking, half-serious.
Y/n straightens her shoulders, posing theatrically. "I'd be, like, the perfect trophy wife. I'd look good standing next to Lewis during his press conferences and podium interviews."
Lyka laughs out loud at Y/n's confident declaration. "Oh my god," she snickers, her voice filled with mirth. "You're actually picturing yourself as a trophy wife? Standing there, looking pretty while Lewis talks about racing strategy and tire compounds?"
Y/n grins, raising a brow at Lyka. "And what about you?" she asks a hint of challenge in her voice. "Can you see yourself doing the same for Lando? Standing there, looking gorgeous, while he talks about car setup and track conditions?"
Lyka nods with conviction, a sparkle in her eyes. "Absolutely, yes," she affirms. "I can totally picture myself looking all cute and pretty, with a whole wardrobe of amazing outfits courtesy of Lando's earnings. It's all about the perks, you know?"
She grins mischievously. "Besides, watching Lando on the track, all focused and intense, and then coming home to spoil me rotten? Sounds pretty damn good to me."
Y/n nods, her lips curving into a smile. "You know what, you have a point there," she admits, her voice laced with a touch of envy. "Getting to watch Lewis race, all focused and competitive, and then having him come home and… well, show me just how much he appreciates me… yeah, I could get used to that."
She quirks an eyebrow, glancing at the calendar. "Alright, when's the next race again?" she asks, her voice slightly impatient. "I need to check if I'm free that day, cause Toto- his team principal, I believe? said that I have to be there. Some PR bullshit."
Y/n pulls out her phone, quickly searching for the race schedule. "Lemme see," she murmurs, scrolling through her screen. "There we go. The next race is two weeks from now... Let's see… yep, I'm free that day."
She puts her phone away, a hint of satisfaction in her voice. "All clear," she affirms. "I'll be there, cheering on Lewis every lap of the way."
Lyka smirks, her voice dripping with playfully sarcastic praise. "Oh, you're such a good wife," she teases. "Making sure you're always available to support your husband's racing career. That's true devotion right there."
Y/n laughs, returning the teasing with a sly grin. "And what about you?" she asks, raising a brow. "Ready to be Lando's arm candy, showing off all those designer outfits he'll buy you?"
Lyka nods vigorously, her face already picturing the fancy outfits she'd wear. "Oh, absolutely," she declares, her voice oozing with enthusiasm. "I'm so ready to be Lando's arm candy, strutting around in all the gorgeous designer outfits he'll spoil me with."
Lyka takes a moment to swallow her chip and then adds, "And hey, speaking of Lando's stuff, I actually need to return that hoodie he lent me. Gotta make sure he gets it back."
She grins mischievously. "Although, maybe I'll 'accidentally' keep it a day or two longer just to remind him of me."
Y/n tsks, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Oh, wow," she chuckles, her tone laced with feigned surprise. "That's such harlot behavior, keeping a guy's hoodie just to remind him of yourself."
Lyka looks at Y/n in exaggerated shock, her mouth dropping open in mock offense. "Harlot? Really?" she exclaims, her voice filled with laughter. "Out of all the words you could've chosen, you went with harlot! That's a bit harsh, don't you think?"
Y/n shrugs, unable to keep a straight face. "What? It fits!" she replies, her voice laced with mirth. "You're deliberately keeping his hoodie longer just to keep his attention on you. If that isn’t harlot behavior, then I don't know what is."
Lyka rolls her eyes dramatically, a playful grin on her face. "Oh, please," she exclaims, batting her eyelashes dramatically. "It's not harlot behavior, it's strategic flirting. There's a difference."
Y/n chuckles, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay," she concedes, her voice still tinged with laughter. "You can call it whatever you want. Strategic flirting, friendly teasing, whatever floats your boat."
July 8, Monday, 4:51 PM
Y/n is in the middle of preparing dinner, peeling potatoes and chopping veggies, when her phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. She glances down at it curiously, setting down her knife for a moment.
After a few moments, Y/n finishes replying to Lewis' message, a small smile on her face. She sets down her phone, the conversation with Lewis momentarily distracting her from her cooking preparations.
Y/n continues chopping vegetables, her hands moving deftly as she's suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka's phone ringing. She stops for a moment, looking up as Lyka grabs her phone.
Lyka's face lights up with surprise as she answers the phone, hearing Lando's voice on the line. "Oh! Hey, Lando," she replies, her voice already cheerful.
Y/n can't help but smile at Lyka's reaction, hearing the change in her tone. She continues chopping vegetables as she listens to Lyka's side of the conversation.
Lyka's voice is filled with excitement as she responds to Lando's question. "Yes, I'll get the tickets for the flight myself," she confirms, her voice slightly giddy. "I'll be there by Friday, no problem."
Her face flushes with a rosy hue as Lando brings up the subject of his hoodie. She lets out a soft, nervous chuckle and replies, a hint of playful charm in her voice, "Ah, about the hoodie… Well, I was actually thinking I might hang onto it a little longer."
Y/n, unable to contain her amusement, lets out a soft giggle, drawing Lyka's attention. She glances at her friend, a sly smile on her face.
Lyka continues the conversation with Lando, her voice taking on a flirtatious tone as she playfully teases him. "You know, if you miss the hoodie that much, you'll just have to come and get it from me yourself…"
Y/n stops mid-preparation, her eyes widening as she eavesdrops on Lyka's conversation. She gapes at her friend for a brief moment, surprised by the boldness of her response.
She can't help but chuckle to herself, thinking, "Lyka's really turning on the charm. Lando's going to be all over her when he gets that hoodie back…"
Lyka continues the conversation, her voice dropping to a sultry tone. "It seems like you miss this hoodie more than you miss me, if you're that desperate to get your hoodie back, maybe we should meet up tomorrow…"
Lyka smiles widely as Lando agrees to meet up the next day. "Great, I'll send you my address in a moment," she replies, her voice a mix of anticipation. "I need to go now, though. But I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"
Y/n watches the exchange with a mixture of amusement and surprise. She can't help but shake her head in disbelief as Lyka ends the call, a cheeky smile on her face.
"Wow," Y/n says, her voice filled with admiration. "You really have Lando wrapped around your finger, don't you?"
Lyka grins, her cheeks still flushed with a hint of a blush. "What can I say? I have my ways of persuasion," she replies, a coy smirk on her face.
Y/n laughs at Lyka's response, amused by her friend's confidence. She continues preparing dinner, adding the ingredients to the pot and stirring it together in the pot, her mind temporarily preoccupied as she focuses on her cooking task. The kitchen emits a warm, savory aroma, the spices blending together to create a mouthwatering scent.
Y/n is suddenly interrupted by the sound of Lyka spitting out her tea, accompanied by an annoyed meow from Evoo. She looks up, slightly startled, setting down her spoon to look over at her friend.
"Whoa, what happened?" Y/n asks, looking at Lyka, who's wiping her mouth with a napkin. Her eyes move to the cat, who's also looking slightly grumpy from the unexpected spray.
Lyka, still catching her breath, quickly points at Y/n's phone, which is on the kitchen counter. "Check your Instagram," she says urgently, a hint of excitement in her voice.
Y/n grabs her phone from the kitchen counter, a look of curiosity on her face. She swipes through her notifications and opens Instagram, as per Lyka's instruction.
Y/n scans through her Instagram timeline and her heart skips a beat as she catches the first article. The statement from Mercedes about her marriage to Lewis is plastered right on her screen. She reads through it, disbelief and surprise etched across her face.
mercedesf1
liked by lewishamilton, george_russell, lyka.val and 563,447 others
mercedesamgf1 Following the recent victory at Silverstone, unauthorized images of one of our drivers and his private life have been leaked. We respect our driver’s privacy and are addressing the situation with the seriousness it deserves. Here’s Toto’s reaction to the matter.
user44 HE'S WHAT? FOR HOW LONG?
lewishamiltonfan446427 who the fuck is y/n....
↳ george.jpg i just searched her up, she used to be a model! she's still active on social media so it isn't that hard to find her account
lewis.hamiltons.gf does this mean i have to change my username...?
y/nfan2 WHEN DID THEY MEET WHAT
y/nfan3 WHEN WHERE WHAT HOW WHEN HUH
rockstarlewis this is some 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 shit dude
wtfmerc so it WAS y/n
A mix of emotions floods through her as she continues reading. She feels a wave of shock, followed by a pang of confusion. Y/n grips her phone tighter, her eyes glued to the words on the screen.
Y/n looks up from her phone, her voice quivering with surprise and a hint of concern. "I didn't know they were releasing this statement today," she replies, her words tinged with a mixture of confusion and anxiety.
Her voice becomes more frantic, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a rush. "It was just an idea I pitched! The whole 'married for 6 months' thing- it wasn't supposed to be taken seriously, not this soon at least!"
She paces around the kitchen, her heart pounding with worry and uncertainty. "I never thought they'd actually make a statement about it without speaking to me first," she mutters, her voice betraying her growing anxiety.
As Y/n continues to pace anxiously, biting on her nails, Lyka takes action. She stands up from the counter and gently grasps Y/n's shoulders, trying to anchor her in the moment.
"Hey, hey," Lyka says in a soothing tone. "Take a deep breath, okay? Panicking isn't going to help the situation."
Y/n nods, trying to steady her racing thoughts. She takes a few deep breaths, letting the air fill her lungs and gradually slowing down her frenzied heartbeat.
Y/n is snapped out of her anxious thoughts as her phone rings loudly in her hand, jolting her back to reality. She glances down at the screen, wondering who could be calling her at this moment.
Her eyes widen as she sees her father's name on the caller ID. She stares at the screen for a moment, her mind swirling with thoughts. Taking another deep breath, she swipes to answer the call.
"Hello?" she says, her voice slightly shaky as she brings the phone to her ear.
She listens intently as her father's voice comes through the other end of the line, waiting anxiously for whatever he has to say. Y/n's father's voice is stern but concerned. "Y/n," he begins, "Have you seen the statement released by Mercedes?"
Y/n holds the phone a little tightly, her heart rate increasing again. "Dad," she begins, "Yes, I just saw it on Instagram. But listen, it's not what it seems-"
Her father's voice cuts her off, filled with disbelief and disappointment. "Not what it seems? It says you've been married to Lewis for 6 months. Explain that."
Y/n hesitates for a moment, her mind racing to come up with a viable explanation. Feeling cornered, she decides to go along with the lie, knowing that the truth will lead to even more disappointment and shame from her father.
"Okay, okay," she says, her voice quivering slightly. "Yes, it's true we got married. But Dad, please understand, it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment thing. We wanted to keep it quiet, that's why we didn't tell anyone right away…"
Y/n listens to her father's scolding, her heart sinking further with each question. "I know, I know," she responds, her voice filled with guilt and remorse. "I should have told you sooner. But Dad, you have to understand, Lewis and I wanted to keep things private at first. The public attention can be overwhelming, and we wanted to enjoy our newlywed bliss in peace…"
Y/n feels a lump form in her throat as she hears the disappointment in her father's voice. This is a first for her—she's never had to lie to her father before, and the guilt starts to weigh heavily on her heart. Fresh tears well up in her eyes, but she tries to maintain her composure on the phone.
Lyka sees the tears in Y/n's eyes and immediately takes notice, her face filled with concern. She walks over to her friend and starts rubbing her back soothingly, a silent show of support and solidarity.
Y/n's father continues to press, his tone slightly more subdued now, "And when can we meet Lewis? Your mother deserves to meet him as soon as possible. We can't just be finding out about your husband on social media, for goodness sake!"
Y/n swallows hard, the weight of the lie becoming more palpable. She racks her brain for an answer, trying to come up with a believable timeframe. "Uh, well, we're actually not together right now... he's still... with his family...," she says, her voice still shaky. "Maybe… Maybe this week? Or when their summer break begins?"
Her father remains silent for a moment, mulling over the proposed timeline. "Very well," he finally responds, his voice still edged with disappointment. "We'll plan something for next week then. I expect a proper introduction and explanation. No more secrets, understood?"
Y/n nods, even though her father can't see her. "Yes, Dad, understood. No more secrets," she mutters, her voice tinged with a mix of guilt and resignation.
After the call ends, Y/n closes her phone, a deep sigh escaping her lips. The weight of the lie and the disappointment from her father hang heavily on her shoulders. She feels like a guilty teenager all over again.
Lyka sees the distress etched on Y/n's face and quickly strides over to her, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting hug. "It's going to be okay," she whispers softly, trying to soothe her friend's troubled heart.
Y/n takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts and trying to rein in her emotions. She then looks over at Lyka, a newfound determination etched on her face. "I need to let Lewis know about the situation with my father," she says, her voice steadying slightly.
She swiftly opens her phone and navigates to Lewis' contact. She knows she needs to inform him about the recent turn of events. Her fingers grip the phone tighter as she starts typing a message to him.
Y/n closes her phone and sighs, her body still feeling the emotional toll from the conversation with her father. Seeing that Lyka has taken over the cooking, Y/n moves to a nearby chair and plops down, still mulling over the recent developments.
While sitting on the chair, she takes a moment to mentally process everything that has happened. Her mind is filled with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions - the lie, the need to maintain the facade, the guilt of deceiving her father, and the impending meeting with Lewis and her parents.
July 14th, 5:34 PM
The two sit in the car, the engine idling in the driveway of Y/n's childhood home. The atmosphere in the car is tense, and both of them are dreading the upcoming meeting with Y/n's parents.
She takes a deep breath, stealing a glance at Lewis before speaking up. "Okay, here's the plan," she begins, her voice a mixture of conviction and anxiety.
Y/n goes over the 'story' again, recapping the timeline of their 'relationship.' "We met during my vacation- your Christmas break of 2022, and became friends for about two months before you started courting me for three more months," she reminds Lewis. "We started dating after that, dated for five months, got engaged for around two months, and then got married in mid-January. Got it?"
Lewis nods, taking in the timeline and details of their fictional relationship. He's clearly trying to commit everything to memory, fully aware of the importance of maintaining a consistent story in front of Y/n's parents.
Y/n takes another deep breath, her hand fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "Just remember, the key is to stay consistent and make it believable," she adds, her voice a tad shakier than before.
Lewis reaches out and takes Y/n's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "We can do this," he says, his voice filled with determination and reassurance. "We just have to stick to the story and not let our nerves get the better of us."
Y/n nods, reassured by Lewis' words and the gentle squeeze of his hand. "You're right," she says, her voice steadier now. "Stick to the story, stay cool, and we'll get through this."
Lewis turns off the ignition, and the engine falls silent. Both of them unbuckle their seatbelts and get out of the car. Standing in the driveway, they take a moment to glance at each other, preparing themselves for the upcoming interaction.
Y/n's heart pounds in her chest as she and Lewis approach the front door. The familiar surroundings of her childhood home bring back a mixture of emotions—nostalgia, nervousness, and the weight of the lie they're about to perpetuate.
She reaches out and rings the doorbell, the sound echoing through the peaceful neighborhood. They wait for a few moments, the anticipation growing with each passing second.
The maid opens the door and greets Y/n and Lewis warmly. "Hello, welcome," she says with a friendly smile. "Your father is still in his study doing some paperwork and your mother is helping the chefs with the dishes. They should be finished soon."
Y/n thanks the maid and glances at Lewis, a hint of anxiety in her eyes. She leads him into the house, the familiar scent of her childhood home filling her nostrils.
She takes Lewis' hand and leads him into the living room. The spacious room is tastefully decorated with a mix of antique and modern furniture, a reflection of her family's taste and style. She guides him to a cozy sofa and motions for him to take a seat.
As they settle onto the sofa, the maid follows behind them and asks, "Can I get you anything to drink? Coffee, tea, water, perhaps?"
Y/n turns to the maid and responds, her voice a bit tense. "I'll have cold water, please. Thank you."
She then turns to Lewis, trying to keep a semblance of normalcy despite her inner turmoil. "Would you like anything, Lewis? Water, coffee, tea…?"
Lewis looks at Y/n and then at the maid and replies, "I'll have tea, please. Thank you."
As the maid exits the living room Lewis sidles closer to Y/n on the sofa, draping an arm around her in a comforting gesture. He leans in and whispers something in her ear, his voice low and barely audible to anyone else.
In a quiet voice, Lewis whispers to Y/n, "Are there any cameras in the living room?" He asks the question, his gaze subtly glancing around for any visible signs of surveillance equipment.
Y/n is slightly taken aback by Lewis' arm around her, but she collects herself quickly. In a hushed tone, she whispers back, "Yes, there are cameras. They're hidden in various spots around the room, my father has access to the cameras from his study."
Lewis places a soft kiss on Y/n's temple and then pulls her closer, his voice a low murmur. "I know, I probably should have asked for your permission before doing that, but I thought it might help our act. For all we know, your father could be watching us on those cameras at this very moment."
Y/n can feel her heart rate increase a bit at Lewis' proximity and his reasoning behind the kiss. She glances at the hidden cameras, a hint of nervousness in her eyes. She nods subtly, understanding the necessity of keeping up the act.
The two of them maintain their close position on the couch, trying to appear as a married couple who are comfortable in each other's company. Y/n glances around discreetly, wondering how her father is handling the surveillance footage.
Just as they are about to continue their conversation, the maid re-enters the living room, carrying a tray with their drinks. She sets the tray down on the coffee table in front of the sofa, placing a glass of cold water next to Y/n and a steaming cup of tea next to Lewis.
The maid arranges the drinks on the coffee table, the sound of the glass clinking against the tray cutting through the silence in the room. She then smiles politely at them before discretely exiting the living room again, leaving Y/n and Lewis alone with their beverages.
Y/n watches the maid exit, her heart rate slightly elevated. She picks up her glass and takes a small sip of water, her mind racing with a million thoughts. The sound of Lewis' tea cup being placed back on the coffee table breaks the silence, drawing her attention back to him.
As Y/n starts to bite her nail, Lewis reaches out and gently moves her hand away from her mouth, his gaze meeting hers with reassurance. "Hey," he whispers "It's going to be okay. I'm here with you, every step of the way. We'll get through this together, alright?"
The simple act of Lewis gently stopping her from biting her nail serves as a small anchor, bringing Y/n back from the edge of her nervousness. She glances at him, his steady presence offering a small sense of comfort. She nods subtly, her eyes reflecting a mix of gratitude and anxiety.
Y/n's breathing remains somewhat labored, the anxiety still coursing through her. Lewis takes her hand in his and begins rubbing his thumb against hers, a soothing motion that seems to ease her nerves, if only a little.
As she gazes at their intertwined hands, her eyes move up to the rings and tattoos adorning Lewis' fingers. The sight of them adds another layer to their carefully crafted pretense, the evidence of her supposed marriage right there on display for anyone who looks closely enough.
Their moment is interrupted as Y/n's mother walks into the living room. Her mother's presence brings Y/n back to reality, and the nerves come rushing back. She straightens up immediately, letting go of Lewis' hand to brush off any dust on her shirt and pants.
Y/n's mother enters the living room, her eyes lighting up as she sees her daughter and Lewis sitting together on the sofa. A warm smile graces her lips as she approaches them. "Hello, you two," she greets them, her voice filled with genuine affection.
As Y/m/n approaches, Y/n rises from the sofa, her movement slightly jerky due to her nerves. She tries to force a smile, hoping to appear normal, but the tension in her body is palpable.
Lewis follows Y/n as she nods, his hand gently moving to rest on her back, a small comfort in the face of the inevitable confrontation with her father.
He extends his hand towards Y/n's mother, his demeanor is polite and friendly. "Hello, it's lovely to meet you in person," he says with a warm smile. Y/n watches the interaction, her heart thumping loudly in her chest.
The introduction occurs, Lewis offering his hand in greeting and Y/n's mother shaking it warmly. Y/n stands nearby, the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears drowning out almost everything else.
As Lewis shakes her mother's hand and exchanges greetings, Y/n's heart pounds louder in her ears. Her eyes flicker between the two, the casual interaction between her mother and Lewis standing in stark contrast to the turmoil of emotions churning within her.
Y/n watches as Lewis engages in pleasantries with her mother, and the polite exchange is a far cry from the anxiety that grips Y/n's insides. The sound of their voices and the sight of their interaction blur into the background as Y/n struggles to keep herself together.
Y/m/n gestures towards the dining room, saying, "Follow me to the dining room, please. Your father will join us in about five minutes." With a nod, Y/n and Lewis follow silently behind her, the nerves tightening in Y/n's stomach.
Lewis takes Y/n's hand again, his touch providing a source of comfort in the midst of the mounting tension. With a subtle gesture, he begins rubbing his thumb against hers, offering a silent reassurance.
The gentle, soothing motion of Lewis rubbing her thumb helps to ground Y/n, and the simple action is a small balm against the anxiety that threatens to consume her. She glances at him, silently expressing her gratitude through her eyes.
They enter the dining room, and Lewis takes a seat next to Y/n, his presence a silent comfort. Y/n sits down across from her mother, leaving her father's chair vacant. The sight of the empty chair sends a jolt of anxiety through Y/n, her palms beginning to sweat.
Y/n sits across from her mother, her eyes darting to the empty chair that her father is bound to occupy shortly. The sight of the vacant seat is a ghost of the man who is about to confront the facade they've created. Y/n's palms begin to sweat, and the nervous energy builds rapidly within her.
The silence in the dining room is nearly deafening. Y/n's mother makes small talk, but Y/n's mind is elsewhere, consumed by the impending arrival of her father. She glances again at the empty chair, the seconds ticking by like hours as they wait for him to join them.
The wait seems endless, Y/n's mother's attempts at small talk falling on deaf ears as Y/n's mind races with thoughts. Every sound seems magnified, and every breath echoes. The empty chair looms over the table like a storm cloud, its absence speaking louder than any words could.
It seems almost too well-timed. Just as the silence is about to become unbearably awkward, the butlers enter the room, gracefully serving the meals that have been prepared. The aroma of the food fills the air, but Y/n's stomach is in knots, the thought of eating almost impossible.
As they express gratitude to the butlers, Y/n's father proceeds to place food on his plate, his hands moving deftly. Still in the midst of his task, he begins to ask questions, his voice laced with authority and curiosity.
Y/n's father continues to plate his food as he asks questions, his words almost nonchalant, but his tone hinting at hidden scrutiny. "So, Lewis, how did you and Y/n meet?"
Lewis responds calmly to Y/n's father's question, his tone matter-of-fact. "We met back in 2022, during Y/n's Christmas vacation," he says. "It was a coincidence, really. We just sorta bumped into each other and started talking."
Her father nods, seemingly taking in the information, still focused on loading food onto his plate. His next question comes with a hint of intensity, "And when did you decide to get married?"
Y/n's father's question about their marriage takes her slightly off-guard. As her mind races, she accidentally drops her spoon, the metallic clatter bouncing off the walls of the quiet dining room. Her heart sinks, the unexpected question leaving her feeling even more exposed.
Y/n apologizes for the dropped spoon, her voice a bit shaky. Lewis takes over, answering her father's question calmly. "We decided to get married after being engaged for two months," he explains. "We actually got married right before the off-season started. It was quite a whirlwind, to be honest."
Y/n's mother interjects, curious about the term 'off-season.' "What do you mean by off-season?" she asks, her tone casually curious.
Lewis responds to Y/n's mother's question, his tone casually informative. "The off-season is sort of like Christmas break," he says. "It's the time of year when school is out, and everything kind of slows down for a while."
Y/n's mother nods, absorbing the explanation, and then proceeds to take a bite of her food. She seems reasonably content with the answer, her focus shifting back to her meal.
Y/n's father, seemingly unsatisfied with the previous answers, resumes asking his questions. His gaze remains fixed on a spoonful of soup, but his voice drips with a sense of authoritative interrogation.
He continues to question Lewis, his eyes focused on his bowl of soup as his voice pierces the air. "So, you're an athlete, correct?" he asks, his tone suggesting he already knows the answer.
Lewis nods in confirmation, his demeanor still poised. "Yes, I am," he answers, his response firm.
Y/n's father persists with his questions, delving into practicalities. "How are you going to provide for Y/n when you're constantly traveling and training?" he probes, his tone skeptical.
Y/n's mother chimes in, gently nudging her husband and scolding him playfully. "Darling, you're acting as if Lewis is going to be your personal assistant," she admonishes, adding a little humor to the conversation.
Lewis chuckles lightly, finding a bit of humor in the situation. Y/n, on the other hand, lets out a somewhat awkward laugh, the tension still palpable beneath the facade of casual banter.
He responds to her father's question, his tone confident. "I have a well-established career, sir," he says. "I'm well-paid, and I can certainly provide for Y/n and any future family we might have."
As Lewis mentions potentially having a family, Y/n is caught off-guard and inadvertently causes herself to cough, the water going down the wrong pipe. She quickly composes herself while both their parents look at her in concern.
While Y/n recovers from her coughing fit, Lewis gently pats her back, a look of concern etched on his face. "Are you alright?" he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.
Y/n responds nervously, her voice a bit shaky. "Yeah, I'm fine," she reassures, trying to brush off the incident, her eyes darting between Lewis, her parents, and the water in her glass.
Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone light yet curious. "So, have you two thought about how big of a family you'd like to have?" she inquires, her eyes flitting between Lewis and Y/n.
Lewis expresses his thoughts on starting a family, his voice filled with warmth and optimism. "I'd really like a big family," he admits, "maybe 2-3 kids or more, and a few pets too. But ultimately, it'll be Y/n's call since she'll be the one carrying and giving birth to the children." He smiles affectionately at her, adding, "It's her decision, and I'll support whatever she chooses."
Y/n's gaze softens, her heart warmed by Lewis's words. Despite the awkward family setting, the way he looks at her, coupled with his last statement, touches her deeply. It's a small but significant gesture, emphasizing his support and understanding, something she didn't fully anticipate.
Y/n's father nods in approval, clearly satisfied with Lewis's response. "Good man," he remarks, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind Lewis's words. "Always considerate of your wife's feelings, as you should be."
As Y/n's father praises Lewis, a sigh of relief escapes her lips. The approval from her father seems to ease some of the tension, and she shoots Lewis a grateful glance, silently expressing her relief.
Y/n's mother chimes in with a question, her tone casual but slightly concerned. "Have you two thought about moving in together soon?" she asks. "I recall Y/n mentioning she's still staying with Lyka."
Y/n responds, her voice laced with a hint of anxiety, explaining the reasons behind their decision. "We haven't moved in together yet," she begins, "due to Lewis's job. With him traveling all over the world for most of the year, it would be quite lonely for me. I have some of my stuff at his place, but we agreed that I'll stay with him when he's home and stay at my apartment with Lyka when he's away."
The explanation seems to make sense to both Y/n's parents and her father nods in understanding. He seems to comprehend the challenges that come with Lewis's job, and the reasoning behind their living arrangement makes sense in their circumstances.
The dinner gradually comes to an end, and Y/n and Lewis bid farewell to her parents. There's a sense of relief in the air, mixed with a hint of lingering tension. As they part ways, Y/n's mother gives them both a warm smile, while her father offers a firm nod.
"Thanks," she says, smiling at his gesture, appreciating the small act of chivalry. She pulls out her phone from her bag before taking a seat in the car, the soft leather of the seats molding to her body.
As Lewis closes the car door, Y/n notices Lyka's name popping up on her phone's screen. She taps on the answer button, the phone pressed to her ear. "Hello?" she says, her voice slightly weary.
Lyka's voice comes through the line, sounding a mix of anxious and excited. "H-hi," she greets, her tone bordering on the guilty, like a child trying to conceal their mischief.
Y/n listens to Lyka's nervous greeting and responds, curiosity in her voice. "What's up?" she asks, setting the phone on speaker and placing it on the dash. Just as she does so, Lewis gets into the car, and they both focus on the now-speaker conversation.
Lyka's voice, sounding a bit unsure, asks, "Are you heading home now?" The question lingers in the air, suggesting that there may be something on Lyka's mind.
Y/n shoots Lewis a glance, their eyes meeting briefly as he maneuvers the car out of the gates. She's silent for a moment, contemplating Lyka's request and the implications of staying over at Lewis's place tonight.
Y/n turns her attention to Lewis, asking the question aloud, even though he had already overheard the conversation. She takes the phone off the dashboard, holding it in her hand as she speaks, her voice quieter than before. "Lyka's asking if I can stay over at your place tonight because Lando is a bit too drunk to go home."
Lewis responds, keeping his focus on the road, his voice calm and unwavering. "Sure," he says, seeming amenable to the idea. "You can stay over at my place tonight."
She relays the response to Lyka, conveying the okay from Lewis. "Okay," she says, her voice a bit lighter now. "I can stay at Lewis's place tonight."
Lyka's voice comes through the phone, brimming with gratitude and a hint of apology. "Thank you so much," she expresses, her tone sincere. "I'm really sorry for the sudden request. We just, uh…" Her voice trails off, leaving the rest unspoken.
Y/n chuckles, still on the phone with Lyka, and teases her gently. "Yeah, yeah, just make sure you take care of your 'boyfriend,'" she says, a hint of playfulness in her voice. "I'll be with Lewis."
Lyka's embarrassed screech comes through the phone, her voice full of flustered denial. "DUDE, SHUT UP!" she practically yells, her annoyance tinged with a hint of humor. "HE'S NOT MY BOYFRIEND!"
Y/n responds, a playful tone in her voice. "Yeah, yeah, whatever, Lyka," she teases. "You can tell that to the flowers he's been sending you every day." Her tone takes on a mock serious note. "Anyways, I've gotta go now."
Lyka's frustrated scream comes through the line, her voice muffled as she probably covers her face with her hands. Y/n laughs, having heard this reaction countless times over the years, knowing it's a clear sign of Lyka's embarrassment. "Bye," Lyka manages to say, her voice still tinged with flusteredness before ending the call.
Y/n looks at her phone, opening the text messages app to find the flurry of texts Lyka sent just moments ago before the call. Her eyes scan over the screen, curious to see what kind of messages her flustered best friend sent, no doubt venting about what was happening.
Lewis breaks the brief silence that had settled in the car, starting with a casual, "So…" His tone is conversational, suggesting he has something to talk about. He keeps his focus on the road, but his voice is filled with curiosity and a hint of anticipation.
Y/n sighs, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and uncertainty. She closes her phone screen, resting it on her lap before responding. "Honestly, I'm not even sure," she admits, her tone reflecting a hint of frustration at her friends' complex relationship.
Y/n tries to explain the complicated nature of Lyka and Lando's relationship, her voice trying to convey the complexity of it all. "They're more than friends, but less than lovers," she clarifies, her tone thoughtful. "It's a bit confusing, really. They're stuck somewhere in between."
Lewis chuckles, reflecting on the implications of the "stuck in between" situation. He offers a playful observation. "Well, that could go one of two ways, right?" he muses. "Either it's really good, or really bad."
Y/n smirks, agreeing with Lewis's assessment. "Yeah, you're right," she concedes, her voice hinting at the complexities of Lyka and Lando's dynamics. "It's either going to work out amazingly or explode in their faces."
The car falls back into a moment of silence, the low hum of the engine filling the space. Lewis keeps driving, his focus on the road, his mind likely contemplating the complexities of relationships and the uncertainty of the future.
Y/n breaks the silence again, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation. "Uh…" she begins, her tone a bit uncertain, but there's a question lingering behind it.
Y/n's voice softens with gratitude as she addresses Lewis, her tone sincere. "Thanks," she says, her appreciation evident. "For, you know, not making a big deal about me staying over."
Y/n's voice takes on a more grateful tone, her appreciation clear. "And thank you for saving my ass at the dinner," she says, a hint of relief in her voice. "I really appreciate you having my back."
Lewis responds with a warm smile, his tone easy and hospitable. "It's no problem, sweetheart," he says. "You're always welcome at my place, even when I'm not around. I'll give you a key soon so you can come and go as you please."
Y/n turns her head swiftly, her gaze now locked on him. She repeats his term of endearment, "Sweetheart?" Her voice is tinged with a hint of surprise, her head slightly tilted to the side as she processes the familiarity of the word coming from his lips.
Lewis's eyes widen momentarily upon hearing her question, clearly surprised by the inquiry. He quickly recovers and responds, his tone questioning yet gentle, "Oh, is it okay if I call you that?" His voice carries a note of concern, clearly wanting to ensure he hasn't crossed any boundaries.
She lets out a soft laugh, the tension easing away. "Yeah, it's fine," she assures him, her tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "It's actually better that way. I won't be caught off guard when you call me that in public. It'll make our act more believable for the press."
Lewis nods, the concern in his eyes replaced by a hint of relief and a touch of playfulness. "That's true," he agrees, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It'll make it more convincing when we're around people. Plus, it's kind of nice…" His voice trails off, a slight implication behind his words.
A smile dances on Y/n’s lips, and she decides to tease him a bit. “Oh really? I feel like you have a big crush on me Sir Lewis,” she asks, feigning surprise, her tone lighthearted. Her eyes glimmer with playfulness, expecting him to respond with a playful banter.
His voice takes on a playfully challenging tone as he responds to Y/n’s teasing question. “And what if I do?” he says, his eyes briefly meeting hers before turning back to the road. “What would you do about it?” There’s a hint of a challenge in his tone but also a flicker of genuine curiosity, as if he’s eager to see how she would react if her teasing was based on truth.
Y/n responds with confidence, her eyes locked into his. “Oh, I have a few ideas,” she says, her tone dripping with a hint of mystery. Her voice drops lower, filled with playful tease, as if she’s already planning something.
Lewis raises an eyebrow, his interest piqued by Y/n’s response. He can’t help but wonder what kind of ideas she has in mind. “Oh yeah? And what ideas do you have in that pretty mind of yours, sweetheart?” he asks, a smile playing on his lips.
Her smile widens, her eyes glimmering mischievously. She remains coy, not revealing too much. “Oh, I can’t give away all my secrets,” she teases, her voice playful. “You’ll have to wait and find out.”
Lewis chuckles, enjoying the banter between them. "Fair enough," he responds, his tone playful. "I guess I'll just have to wait and see what you have up your sleeve, sweetheart."
Y/n smirks at the term of endearment, the name rolling off his tongue with a familiar ease. "Oh, you'll see," she teases back, her voice filled with confidence. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."
Lewis brings the car into the parking lot of the condominium building, the wheels smoothly coming to a stop. He turns off the engine, the sound of the vehicle falling silent as he shifts his gaze over to Y/n sitting next to him.
"We're here," he announces, his tone casual. He unbuckles his seatbelt and glances over at Y/n. "Ready to head inside?"
Y/n nods, the teasing banter settling into a comfortable quiet. She unbuckles her own seatbelt and prepares to get out of the car. "Yeah, let's go."
Lewis opens the car door and steps out, stretching briefly before closing the door behind him. He then walks over to Y/n's side and opens the passenger door for her, offering his hand to help her out of the car.
She smiles appreciatively, taking his hand and stepping out of the car. "Thank you," she says, her voice tinged with gratefulness. She then follows him as they head towards the entrance of the condominium building.
As they walk into Lewis's penthouse, the faint sound of a low thumping becomes perceptible. Y/n glances around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. She looks over at Lewis, a quizzical expression on her face, silently asking if he hears it too.
Lewis catches Y/n's curious look and can't help but smile to himself, fully aware of what's about to occur. He says nothing for a moment, amused by the fact that she hasn't figured it out yet.
Out of nowhere, a chubby bulldog appears, sprinting toward Lewis with excitement. Its short, muscular legs carry it swiftly across the floor, its paws creating a thumping sound as they hit the ground. The bulldog clearly recognizes its owner and makes a beeline straight for him, tail wagging joyfully.
Lewis crouches down to meet Roscoe, his face breaking into a wide smile as the dog happily rolls onto his belly, begging for some attention. Lewis laughs and begins to scratch the dog's belly, his fingers rubbing the animal's belly fur affectionately.
"Hey, buddy," Lewis coos affectionately, his voice filled with warmth as he speaks to Roscoe. "Did you miss me?" The bulldog responds with a slobbery grin and continues to wiggle his short, stub tail on the floor in bliss.
Roscoe looks up at Lewis with big, soulful eyes, his tongue hanging out, clearly thrilled to be in the presence of his owner. He playfully licks Lewis's hand, expressing his happiness in the only way he knows how.
Roscoe, in the middle of his display of excitement towards Lewis, suddenly halts, his furry head tilting to the side as he notices Y/n's presence. His wide eyes focus on her, his gaze inquisitive and a little cautious, as if wondering who this new person in his home is.
Y/n stands there, a mix of surprise and uncertainty on her face, not quite knowing how to greet the curious bulldog. She looks over at Lewis, silently seeking some guidance on how to approach his pet.
He notices the change in Roscoe's behavior and the puzzled look on Y/n's face. He stands up and gestures for her to come closer, a reassuring smile on his face. "It's okay," he says, his tone comforting. "He's just curious. Come closer."
Y/n steps closer, her nerves palpable as she admits to Lewis that she isn't particularly fond of dogs. "Um, is this a good time to say I'm not really a dog person?" she mumbles, her voice tinged with slight unease.
Lewis chuckles, a mix of amusement and understanding in his eyes. He glances down at Roscoe, who is still sitting and watching Y/n intently. "Oh, really? Well, that might be a problem," he teases jokingly.
She cautiously moves closer and gives Roscoe a tentative pat on the head, her touch light and tentative. The bulldog responds by closing his eyes in the pleasure of the unexpected attention, his stumpy tail wagging once again as he basks in the affection.
Lewis watches the interaction and smiles, finding the scene amusing yet endearing. "See?" he says, his voice encouraging. "He likes you already."
He stands up, motioning for Y/n to follow him into the kitchen. "C'mon," he says, gesturing towards the kitchen. "I'll grab us some drinks."
Y/n follows Lewis into the kitchen, her face transforming into a surprised smile as she asks a question. "Why do we need drinks?" There's a hint of curiosity in her voice, as if she's secretly hoping for a particular reason.
Lewis uncorks the bottle, taking out two wine glasses from the overhead cabinet. As he pours the wine into the glasses, he glances over at Y/n, his eyes holding a playful twinkle. "Besides," he says, a sly smile on his lips, "we need to celebrate our marriage properly, don't we?"
He passes a wine glass to her, his fingertips lightly brushing against hers for a moment as he does so. The atmosphere in the kitchen suddenly feels a tad heated as the implications of his words hang in the air between them.
Y/n takes the offered glass, her heart skipping a beat as their fingers touch briefly. The look in his eyes and the undercurrent of flirtation in his tone are hard to ignore. The words "we need to celebrate our marriage properly" echo in her head, causing a flutter of anticipation in her stomach.
Lewis pours himself a glass of wine, then pours another for Y/n as she settles into her seat. He moves around the counter, the wine glass in his hand, and takes a seat next to her. The silence is comfortable, but the air is charged with a simmering tension, the earlier flirtation not yet faded.
Y/n holds up her wine glass, lifting it slightly in his direction. "Cheers," she says, her voice carrying a note of excitement. The clinking sound of their glasses meeting fills the air, the act oddly intimate and charged with unspoken desires.
Their eyes meet over the rims of their glasses, the moment charged with a mix of tension and anticipation. Y/n takes a sip of her wine, the liquid smooth and cool as it touches her lips, but it's the man sitting next to her that leaves her feeling flushed and warm.
Time has passed, and the wine has taken its toll. Both Y/n and Lewis are visibly tipsy, their cheeks flushed and their inhibitions lowered. She finds herself in a slightly drunken state, her speech more slurry than Lewis's. They're exchanging stories, the wine loosening their tongues and making them more susceptible to sharing their secrets and embarrassing anecdotes.
Y/n continues her story, her voice a bit slurry from the wine but filled with amusement. "So, there I was, planning to go grocery shopping, right? But then Lyka calls and invites me out for drinks. And well, as you can imagine, one drink turns into several, and the next thing I know, it's been three hours. I completely forgot about the grocery shopping. Then, instead of coming home with actual groceries, I end up bringing home this stray white cat I found. And thus, my cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil was born."
Lewis can't help but chuckle lightly as he listens to Y/n's story, finding it both absurd and endearing. He leans his face against his palm, his elbow propped up on the counter, his eyes sparkling with tipsy amusement. He glances at her, a lazy smile playing on his lips. "You named your cat what?" he asks, his voice tinged with playful disbelief.
His laughter continues, the image of Y/n coming home with a cat instead of groceries amusing him more than it probably should in his current state of drunkenness. "You named your cat Extra Virgin Olive Oil because you forgot about grocery shopping and got drunk instead?" he asks, grinning widely, clearly finding the situation hilarious.
Y/n grins widely, nodding enthusiastically in affirmation. "Yep, that's right," she says, her voice filled with tipsy mirth. "Extra Virgin Olive Oil. And let me tell you, he's the most spoiled cat ever. All because I couldn't stick to my grocery shopping plans."
She feels a sudden brush of fur against her leg, her gaze dropping down. But before she can even react, Roscoe takes off like a shot, darting away with one of her high heels clenched in his mouth. Y/n's eyes widen, and a tipsy laugh escapes her lips.
Y/n jumps out of her seat, a tipsy grin on her face. "Roscoe!" she yells, giggling as she tries to catch the dog who's now prancing away with her high heel. Lewis watches the scene unfold, his laughter joining hers, finding the whole situation hilariously adorable.
Y/n's pursuit of Roscoe continues, her steps a bit unsteady from the alcohol. She tries to catch him, but her foot catches on the edge of the rug, her already tipsy balance getting the better of her. She trips over, her body stumbling forward, a yelp of surprise escaping her.
Lewis sees Y/n's fall, her carefree chase after the dog abruptly interrupted by her slip on the rug. He gets up from his seat, a slight worry crossing his face. But before he can make a move, Y/n raises an arm up from the floor, and yells out, "I'm okay!" Her voice is slightly slurred but there's a sense of pride in her tone, as if she's proud of her resilient demeanor despite her tipsy state.
As she stands up with a wide smile on her face, she doesn't realize the small cut on her elbow until Lewis points it out. Y/n glances down, noticing the slight trickle of blood on her arm. She touches the spot, a little surprised, but the alcohol has numbed the pain, giving her a false sense of invincibility. She giggles, looking at the cut with amused detachment.
Despite her stumble and the small cut on her elbow, Y/n's demeanor remains carefree, her eyes blinking in a slightly confused manner. The alcohol has dulled her senses, so pain feels distant and the reality of the fall hasn't quite registered in her mind yet. She looks up at Lewis, a slightly bewildered expression on her face as if she's not quite sure how she ended up on the floor in the first place.
Lewis lets out a small, playful exhale and saunters over to Y/n, gesturing for her to sit on the couch. "Alright, come on, sit down," he instructs, his voice laced with a hint of amused frustration. He guides her over to the couch, steadying her a bit as she clumsily flops down onto the cushions.
He turns away, giving her a warm smile, and says, "Okay, sit tight. I'll be right back. I'll get a bandage for that cut on your elbow." He strides out of the room, leaving Y/n slumped on the couch, a little drunk and a bit bewildered.
Y/n lounges on the couch in a slightly disheveled manner, her body stretched out like a starfish. She looks like a ragdoll, her limbs flung about in a completely comfortable yet chaotic way. The alcohol has made her feel relaxed and carefree, completely unbothered by the fact that she's lying haphazardly on the couch, waiting for Lewis to return with a bandage for her now-forgotten cut.
After 5 minutes, Lewis enters the room carrying a small first-aid kit. He looks over at Y/n, noticing that she's a bit more composed compared to a few moments ago. The alcohol's effect seems to have subsided a bit, perhaps due to the short break in time. He walks over to her, sitting down on the couch next to her, the first-aid Kit in his hand.
"Seems like you're getting a bit more sober now," he observes, his tone gentle as he opens the first-aid kit. He takes out an antiseptic wipe and a small adhesive bandage, preparing to clean and cover the cut on her elbow.
"Hold still for a moment," he says, his voice soft. He gently takes her arm and begins cleaning the wound with the antiseptic wipe. The cool touch of the solution stings a little, but he's careful not to cause her any unnecessary pain.
Y/n winces a bit as the antiseptic wipe touches the cut, a small "ow" escaping her lips. The alcohol has numbed her a bit, but the sting of the antiseptic still registers. She looks at her arm, watching as Lewis carefully cleans the cut, his touch light yet deliberate.
"It's alright," he soothes, his tone gentle. "I'm almost done." He continues to clean the cut, making sure it's free of any dirt or debris before gently placing the bandaid over the cut. His touch is light and careful, his fingers grazing the soft skin of her arm.
Once the bandaid is placed, he gently pats the area around the cut, securing it in place. He then releases her arm, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary. He looks up at her, a small, reassuring smile on his lips.
Y/n gazes at Lewis, her eyes studying his face intently. She takes in every detail - the curve of his lips, the flecks of gold in his eyes, the slight stubble on his chin. The alcohol still in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more observant. She continues to stare at him, not saying a word.
Lewis notices Y/n's unwavering gaze, her eyes taking in every feature of his face. He raises an eyebrow, a hint of curiosity in his expression. Seeing her silent observation, he jokingly asks, "Got something on my face?" His voice is light, and his words are filled with humor.
Y/n shakes her head, continuing her silent observation, her gaze still fixated on his features. And then, in a surprising move, she leans forward, her lips brushing against his in a soft, slow kiss. The alcohol in her system lowers her inhibitions, making her actions more impulsive and carefree. The kiss is unexpected but filled with an undercurrent of desire and affection.
Lewis is taken aback for a moment, caught off guard by her unexpected kiss. But then, he relaxes into it, his eyes closing as he responds to her contact. His hand comes up to cup the back of her head, his fingers lightly brushing through her hair. The kiss deepens, the alcohol in their systems making it heady and impulsive.
Y/n, emboldened by the alcohol and the heat of the moment, makes another bold move. Without breaking the kiss, she shifts her position, straddling his lap, a leg on either side of him. Her body presses against his, her hands on his shoulders, pulling him closer as she continues kissing him, her actions driven by a combination of intoxication and desire.
She suddenly pulls away from the kiss, the reality of her actions sinking in. Her blush spreads across her face, a mixture of embarrassment and desire filling her. She looks at him, her eyes wide, her breathing slightly ragged from the intensity of the kiss. The alcohol in her system has lowered her inhibitions, making her bolder and more impetuous, but she still feels a mix of shyness and confusion at her own behavior.
Lewis looks at Y/n, a hint of confusion and surprise in his eyes. He gently cups her face with his hand, his thumb tracing the contour of her cheek. He asks her softly, "Why did you stop?" His voice is a mix of curiosity and tenderness, his gaze holding hers as he waits for her response.
Despite the buzz of alcohol in her system, Y/n hesitates, her actions and her desires at war within her. The kiss had been spontaneous, driven by a heady mixture of alcohol and desire, but now she feels a sense of self-consciousness and insecurity. Her blush deepens under his touch, and she looks into his eyes, trying to find the words to explain her sudden break in their intimate moment.
"I…I don't know," she stutters out, her voice small and unsure. "It's just…I don't know…" Her gaze flickers away from his, unable to hold his intense, questioning stare. The alcohol and the heat of the moment have made her impulsive, but now she feels exposed, vulnerable in her straddling position, her guard faltering under his soft but insistent touch.
Lewis gives her a reassuring smile, his hand still cupping her face. Seeing her hesitant, he gently draws her back towards him, his other hand coming up to rest on her hip. He pulls her down, bringing her face closer to his, and kisses her again, his lips pressing against hers with a soft but determined pressure. The kiss is slow, tender, and deliberate, his tongue slipping out to caress her lower lip, seeking more.
With a swift movement, Lewis stands up, still not breaking the kiss, his hands holding onto Y/n's thighs to keep her stable. The shift in positioning causes her to tighten her arms around his neck, and their bodies press even closer together. Lewis's grip is firm but gentle, his strength evident as he holds her up with ease, the kiss continuing unhindered.
He walks with purpose towards the bedroom door, his strength and balance holding Y/n securely in his arms. In a move that seems completely effortless, he keeps one hand on her thigh, supporting her weight, while his other free hand reaches out, unlocks the door, and swings it open. He strides across the threshold, carrying her into the room, the kiss never once breaking.
Inside the bedroom, he kicks the door closed behind them, shutting out the rest of the world. The only sounds filling the room are the soft gasps and sighs exchanged between them as the kiss deepens, fueled by a heady mixture of desire and alcohol. Lewis shifts his grip slightly, his hand sliding from her thigh to her waist, holding her steadily as he guides her towards the bed.
Lewis gently sets Y/n down on her feet, helping her regain her balance. Then, with a soft yet firm pressure on her shoulders, he eases her backward until she sits on the edge of the bed. He stands in front of her, his body looming over hers in a way that is both dominant and protective. He looks down at her, his gaze darkened with desire, his breathing slightly heavy.
With a subtle but deliberate action, Lewis's hand moves up to Y/n's neck, his fingers wrapping around the delicate skin in a light but firm grip. He squeezes gently, not enough to cut off her air, but enough to assert a sense of control and possessiveness. The kiss that follows is quick, fierce, and possessive, his tongue invading her mouth in a dominant, needy manner.
Y/n whimpers into the kiss, the sound caught between a protest and a moan of pleasure. Lewis's dominant grip on her neck, the way he claims her mouth in a possessive kiss, fuels the fire within her. Her hands come up to cling to his shoulders, the mixture of pleasure and submission washing over her in waves.
Too caught up in the intensity of the moment, she grips the loops of Lewis's pants, her fingers hooking onto them as if anchoring herself. The action is both needy and desperate, a silent plea for more as she looks up at him, her eyes burning with desire and anticipation.
Lewis glances down at Y/n, noticing her fingers gripping his pant loops, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. Teasingly, he leans down, his face close to hers, and whispers, "So needy, aren't you?" His voice is a low, gravelly murmur, his words carrying a hint of possessive satisfaction.
She looks up at Lewis with wide, innocent, doe-like eyes, her expression a mixture of need and submission. She doesn't respond, her voice caught in her throat, but her grip on his pant loops tightens just a fraction, her body silently begging for more. The contrast between her innocent gaze and her needy actions is striking, and the heat in her eyes speaks volumes.
Lewis continues to look down at her, his eyes taking in her beautiful, vulnerable expression. He reaches out a hand, tracing the line of her neck with his fingers, but the touch light is barely there. He can hear her soft, ragged breaths, can feel her pulse quickening under his touch, and his own need, his own desire, increases exponentially.
He leans in, his lips moving to her ear, his breath against her skin as he whispers, "You're so gorgeous like this, so needy for me." He kisses her ear, his lips moving down to her jaw, leaving a trail of soft, hot kisses down the delicate curve of her neck.
Lewis continues to kiss along her neck, his mouth nipping and sucking gently at her skin, his tongue darting out to taste her sweetness. His hands slide down her body, caressing her sides, his touch both tender and possessive, his own need growing with every soft sound that escapes her lips.
He bites gently at her pulse point, a small, possessive act that makes her gasp and whine softly. His hands move to the hem of her shirt, his fingers tracing the line of exposed skin, his touch both gentle and firm. "I want you," he whispers against her skin, his voice rough and full of desire, "so badly."
His hands slide underneath her shirt, his palms pressing against her skin, feeling her warmth and softness against his touch. He feels her shiver at the contact, her body responding to his touch like a perfectly tuned instrument. He kisses her collarbone, his mouth moving down to the hollow of her throat, his lips trailing along her skin with increasing need.
His hands move higher, his fingers tracing the contour of her stomach, her ribcage, her breasts. He feels her arch into his touch, her body craving more contact, more of his touch, his caress, his attention. He can feel her need, her desire, the way her breath hitches at his touch, and it only fuels his own fire, his own burning need for her.
Lewis pushes her gently back onto the bed, his body hovering over her, his weight propped up on his forearms. He looks down at her, his eyes roaming over her face, her body, taking in the sight of her beneath him, soft and yielding, yet filled with an undeniable fire and desire.
His fingers move to the buttons of her shirt, his touch slow and deliberate as he unfastens them one by one, revealing her bare skin inch by inch, his lips following the path of his fingers, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along her skin.
Y/n's breathing becomes ragged as Lewis' hands reach the last button, freeing her breasts from the confines of her shirt. She pushes the fabric off her shoulders, tossing it aside, her nipples hard and aching for his touch.
Lewis' hands cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples. Y/n moans, her head falling back as she arches into his touch. Her hands roam over his body, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.
She slides her hand inside, gripping his erection through his boxers. Lewis groans, his hips bucking into her hand. Y/n pulls him closer, their lips meeting in a rushed kiss as she fumbles with his boxers, freeing his hard cock.
She strokes him slowly, her thumb rubbing over the head, making him moan into her mouth. Lewi's hands leave her breasts, training down her sides to her waistband. He hooks his thumbs into her pants, pulling them down her legs, leaving her completely naked.
Y/n steps out of her pants, her body trembling with desire. Lewis' eyes roam over her, drinking in the sight of her before he pulls her back against him. He reaches around, unfastening his braided belt, letting it fall to the floor.
He pushes her onto the bed, following her down, his lips trailing kisses down her neck, his hand guiding his cock to her entrance. Y/n's breath hitches, her legs parting, welcoming him.
Lewis positions himself at her entrance, his eyes locked on hers, filled with lust and desire. He pushes inside her, slowly at first, allowing her body to adjust to his size. Y/n gasps, her nails digging into the sheets as he fills her completely.
Y/n bites her lip, her eyes widening as she feels the full extent of Lewis' size. "Fuck, you're huge," she hisses, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through her.
Lewis smirks, his hands gripping her hips as he begins to thrust, his rhythm slow and deliberate. "Like it sweetheart?" he growls, his voice deep and seductive.
Y/n nods, her eyes fluttering shut as she adjusts to his size. "Yeah, I... I love it," she admits, her voice breathy and needy.
Lewis grins, his hand sliding around Y/n's neck, applying gentle pressure. "Good," he murmurs, his thrusts growing faster and more forceful.
Y/n's eyes widen at the added sensation, her body arching off the bed as her arousal intensifies. "Lewis," she whispers, her nails digging into his back, "don't stop."
He doesn't, his thrusts becoming more aggressive, his hand tightening around her neck just enough to heighten her arousal. Y/n's moans grow louder, her body trembling in anticipation of her impending orgasm.
Y/n's voice is barely a whisper as she gasps, "I'm... I'm close, Lewis."
Lewis, however, is lost in the sensations, his focus solely on the feel of Y/n's tight, wet pussy wrapped around his cock. He continues to thrust, his hand still tightly around her neck, his body moving in perfect unison with hers.
Y/n's orgasm hits her like a tidal wave, her body convulsing as she cries out, her nails digging into Lewis' bicep. Her walls clench around his cock, milking him as he continues to thrust.
Lewis' thrusts grow more erratic, his grip on Y/n's neck tightening as he feels her orgasm grip his cock. Her shaking only serves to fuel his desire, his release drawing near.
He pulls out of her, Y/n's protest cut off by the loss of his cock. He positions himself at her entrance once more, his cock glistening with her juices. "On your knees, sweetheart," he commands, his voice thick with lust.
Y/n obeys, her body still trembling as she gets onto her hands and knees. Lewis lines up his cock with her wet pussy, thrusting back inside her, this time from behind.
His hand leaves her neck, instead gripping her hair, pulling her head back as he begins fuck her with renewed vigor. Y/n's moans fill the room, her body responding to her every thrust,
Lewis' thrusts become more rushed, his breathing heavy. "You're such a good girl, taking my big cock like that," he praises, his voice thick with desire.
Y/n's body shudders, her arousal building once more as she feels him fill her from behind. "Mmm, Lewis," she moans, her voice thick with lust.
Lewis' hand tightens in her hair, his thrusts growing more urgent. "Cum for me, sweetheart. Cum for me one more time," he says, voice a mixture of command and desire.
Y/n's body responds to his words, her orgasm building once more. "I... I'm close," she gasps, her nails digging into the bedsheets.
Lewis feels his own release building, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me," he demands, his cock pulsing inside her.
Y/n's body convulses, her orgasm washing over her like a tidal wave. Lewis can no longer hold back, his cock pulsing as he releases his hot seed deep inside her. He collapses onto her back, his breathing heavy as he tries to regain his composure.
Her body shudders, her mind swimming in the aftermath of her orgasm. Lewis slowly pulls out of her, his cock leaving a trail of cum between her legs. He rolls off her, pulling her into his arms, their bodies entwined.
They lie there, their bodies intertwined in the aftermath of their passionate encounter. Both are out of breath, their hearts still racing from the intensity of the experience. Lewis is holding Y/n close, her head resting on his chest, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. The room is quiet, the only sound being their ragged breathing, the sound gradually slowing and evening out as they regain their composure.
Y/n breaks the silence, her voice a bit hoarse but weary. She looks up at Lewis, her head still pillowed on his chest, and says, "That sobered me up real fast." Her words are a mixture of exhaustion and satiation, the aftermath of their passionate encounter leaving her both depleted and fulfilled.
Lewis gives a soft laugh, his fingers still tracing patterns on her back. He nods, agreeing with her words. "I guess that's one way to sober up," he replies, his voice still a little breathless. He gently brushes a stray strand of hair from her face, his touch soft and affectionate.
Y/n jokes, a weary but playful smile on her face. "Well," she says, "that was like our very own little honeymoon night, wasn't it?" Her comment, although lighthearted, carries a hint of seriousness, a nod to the intense and passionate connection they had just shared.
Lewis chuckles softly, a smile on his lips. He gently pulls her closer, his arms tightening around her. "I guess you could say that," he responds, his voice warm and gentle. "We definitely made some memories tonight." He looks down at her, his gaze filled with tenderness and affection.
Y/n hisses as she adjusts her position, a slight wince on her face. Her body is likely still sensitive from their passionate encounter, and she moves gingerly, trying to find a more comfortable position.
Lewis notices her hiss and the wince on her face, his expression immediately becoming one of concern. He asks her gently, "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" His voice is laced with worry and concern, his fingers lightly coming up to caress her cheek.
Y/n shakes her head, her eyes meeting his. "No, I'm alright," she reassures him. "Just a little sore, I guess. But it was worth it," she adds with a sleepy smile.
Lewis continues to look at her, his eyes searching her face for any signs of discomfort. He asks again, his voice filled with concern, "Are you sure you're alright? Soreness is normal, but I don't want to hurt you." He gently tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and caring.
Y/n nods, a small smile on her face, and jokingly says, "Well, I guess there's an easy fix for that. Just take me out on a shopping spree, and I'll feel like a million bucks again." Her tone is light and humorous, indicating that she's not entirely serious but also hinting at her desire for some pampering and shopping therapy.
Without hesitation, Lewis reaches for the nightstand near the bed and grabs his wallet. He opens it and pulls out a credit card, then hands it to Y/n with a smile. "There," he says, his voice lighthearted, "your ticket to feeling a million bucks. Go wild."
Y/n's eyes widened as she took his credit card. She playfully gasps, a mischievous smile on her face. "Are you serious? You're giving me carte blanche with this?" she says, holding the card up and examining it like it's a precious gem.
Lewis nods, a smirk on his face. "Dead serious," he confirms, leaning back against the headboard. "Go nuts. Buy whatever you want, and don't hold back. It's on me."
Y/n places the credit card on the nightstand, her smile playful. "Oh, it can definitely wait till tomorrow," she says. "I think we should both rest and recover from tonight's… activities." Her tone is teasing, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction.
Lewis chuckles, a knowing smile on his face. "I agree," he replies, his voice deep and gravelly. "We definitely need some rest after tonight. But tomorrow…tomorrow is all yours. Shopping sprees, pampering, the works. I can't have you sore for too long, can I?"
Y/n smirks at his words, her eyes narrowing mischievously. "You know, you might be starting to regret giving me that credit card already," she teases. "You're creating a little monster here."
Lewis laughs heartily. "Oh, I'm fully aware of the monster I'm creating," he replies, still sporting a smile. "But honestly, I find it kind of hot. The thought of you going on a shopping spree, spending my money without a care in the world… it's strangely alluring."
Y/n teases, a mischievous grin on her face. "Oh, don't worry, I plan on getting something for you too," she says. "After all, a good shopping spree isn't complete without a little gift for the guy who's footing the bill."
Lewis pulls her back towards him, drawing her close against his chest. He settles back against the pillows, his arm wrapping around her in a protective, comforting embrace. Y/n's head rests against his chest, her body tucked snugly against his, and he gently kisses the top of her head. "Sweet dreams," he whispers, his voice soft and affectionate.
yn.ln
liked by lewishamilton, lyka.val, george_russell and 644,819 others
yn.ln Shopping sprees, a hot best friend, and an even hotter husband? I'm winning.
tagged lewishamilton, lyka.val
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lyka.val luv ya <3
↳ yn.ln Love you more babes, remember to feed Evoo please :)
↳ lyka.val yes ma'am 🫡
lewishamilton We're both winners sweetheart.
↳ yn.ln Whatever you say, I'm enjoying it either way 😂
ik this is probably weird bc u made this a year ago but would u still be up for making a bonus chapter? like emery’s life now with trent and gigi, especially after moving to madrid? i wanna know more about how they met and their relationship lol
heyy, omg it’s been so long since i wrote that but sure. I’ll try to make a mix so to show how they met and how they are settling in to Madrid and all or maybe a mix of a specific thing — I’ll work something out 💗
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I received a request quite a while ago for a fluffy, sweet one-shot where Five befriends a single mom. Hope you like a super soft Five, cause that's what this is! ❤️
Five listened to the sound of happy children playing and screaming, along with the quiet hum of distant traffic and the crunch of bike tires as they rolled across the gravel pathways of his favorite city park. He found his usual bench, brushing off a few fallen leaves before easing himself onto it with the groan of someone years older than he looked. As soon as he was situated, he glanced around and waited. It never took long before they found him. Sure enough, less than 30 seconds later, the gang of ne’er-do-wells showed up out of nowhere.
Five’s bird friends consisted mostly of some mangy looking pigeons, a few brown sparrows, and one particularly ornery blue jay. They knew him by sight and would flock at his feet whenever he came to visit. As they gathered around, cooing, chirping and hopping excitedly, Five smiled down at them.
“Hi, guys,” he said quietly. “How’ve you been? Staying out of trouble?”
As usual, he received no real response, but more flitters and flapping of wings. That was ok, though. He didn’t mind the one-sided conversations.
Pulling a small bag of bird seed out of his inside coat pocket, he continued talking.
“Sorry I missed you yesterday.” He sprinkled a handful of the seed on the ground and watched as the excitement of the crew intensified. “Klaus needed a ride to the dentist. He said to say hi.”
Five watched the intricate dance of bird hierarchy unraveling before him. He already knew their order of rank and which bird was going to get the majority of the feast while the others waited their turns.
“Wren Franklin…be nice. Bernice isn’t taking your share, Jack Sparrow, so quit your squawking.”
He threw another handful on the ground. “Trucker Bob, it’s ok buddy…you get on in there, they aren’t going to hurt you.” Five suddenly stomped his foot at the blue jay, causing everyone to scatter for a brief moment before scurrying back again. “Sandra Jay O’Connor, I saw that! If I see you peck at poor Mr. Tippington again, you will be banned for a month!”
As Five cursed the blue jay while cooing soft words of encouragement to a small and plain-looking brown bird, he heard a quiet giggle nearby. Sensing it was aimed in his direction, he looked up. On the next bench over, he saw you. Your eyes sparkled as you tried to stifle your laugh. You looked abruptly away as soon as Five glanced at you.
Five smiled softly to himself. He knew he looked and sounded like a crazy person. But he sensed you weren’t making fun of him, just that you were amused.
“You laugh, but I’ve seen that bird fly right onto a man’s head and fly off with his toupee purely for spite. Granted, she was probably doing him a favor because it was god awful, but still.”
You looked at Five and laughed shyly again before shaking your head. “I had no idea bird crime was so rampant in this city.”
“Oh, yes,” Five nodded solemnly. “In fact, I advise you to stay away from the park at night. You might find yourself in the middle of a fly-by shooting. Lots of bird gang violence around here.”
“Is that so? Well, thank you for the heads up,” you said with a smile. Just then, your 5 year-old daughter ran up, out of breath. You handed her a bottle of water. “Ready to go, sweetie?”
The little girl nodded while taking a sip. “Yep.”
You got up and started to walk away, taking your daughter’s hand in yours. You stopped and looked back at Five, who was still watching you. “Have a nice afternoon with your friends there, and I hope Mr. Tippington is ok.”
Five grinned widely. “Thank you, and he’ll be just fine.”
You nodded with a smile and turned to leave. Five watched you go, ignoring the fact that his feathered friends were now clearly irritated that their benefactor had yet to give them their full ration of seed for the day.
Two days later, and Five was back on his favorite bench. As he was in the middle of another inciteful, one-way conversation with his buddies on the ground, he heard a familiar voice from behind.
“Go along and play, Cassie, I’ll watch you from here.”
When Five turned, he saw you standing there. Your eyes sparkled in the sunlight just like the first time he saw you.
“So, do these birds do anything for you in return for you feeding them? Like bringing you gifts, or doing your taxes?” you teased.
Five chuckled. “No. They just let me talk their ears off while they eat.”
“Huh. Do birds have ears?”
Five shrugged. “You know, I’m not sure. Maybe that’s why they don’t care that I’m talking at them.”
You laughed and gestured to the empty side of Five’s bench. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.”
As Five moved over to make more room for you, you introduced yourself with a handshake.
“Nice to meet you. Five Hargreeves,” he said.
“Hargreeves? Why does that name sound familiar?” you asked, tilting your head.
Five sighed quietly. He really wondered why he hadn’t just picked another name by now. It would make things so much easier.
“Does The Umbrella Academy ring any bells?”
You were thoughtful for a second and then the lightbulb went on. “You’re kidding! You were…are…one of them?”
Five nodded. “Sure am. Good old Number Five.”
“I see,” you responded with a smile as you looked him up and down. “So, which one were you? I mean, what can you do?”
“Teleportation. Time travel.” He paused. “Pigeon summoning.”
You laughed. “Very cool. I can see your very impressive pigeon power in action now, but you’ll have to show me the others sometime.”
Five smiled. “Sure thing.”
You nodded. “Ok, Number Five. So, I’ve seen you around the park here a lot. Are you here with your kids, too?”
Five felt called out and a faint blush appeared on his cheeks. “Uh, no. No kids.” He was really hoping you didn’t think he was some creeper hanging out at the park for less innocent reasons. “Don’t worry, though. I just like to come here and feed these guys,” he explained, gesturing to the birds on the ground. “It’s like therapy but without the judgment and bill at the end.”
You looked dubious for just a moment, glancing over at the play structure where your daughter was swinging happily. But when you turned to face Five again, you relaxed. You glanced down at the birds. “They certainly seem to like you.”
Five shrugged. “I think they just view me as a human vending machine.” He held out the bag of seed towards you. “Want to be the hero?”
You nodded and reached into the bag, scooping up some seed and tossing it on the ground. The birds went crazy, tweeting and flapping their wings, making you laugh. Five grinned.
“See? They have no loyalty.”
“I see that. But you have names for them all?”
“Ah, well…some of them. At least the usual ones that come around. It’s rather interesting to observe their little avian society.” Five stopped, realizing that he sounded like a weirdo. “I’m sorry. I’m not a complete lunatic, I promise.”
You laughed, and once again Five could tell you weren’t making fun of him. You seemed genuinely charmed by him. You also had a very calming presence, he noticed. He didn’t feel awkward or on edge when talking with you, which was a refreshing change of pace these days.
“I don’t think you’re a lunatic. Believe me, I can spot them from a mile away and you’re not one.”
“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”
You jumped when you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket from an incoming call. You held it up to Five with an exasperated sigh. “Sorry, I have to take this. It’s my ex and he’s supposed to take our daughter this weekend, so I have to figure out the details.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
As you turned to walk away for more privacy, Five took a look over at the playground. He saw the little girl you had called Cassie, climbing up the ladder to the monkey bars. She was small and Five watched as she got to the top rung, hesitantly reaching out for the first bar to cross. As she swung out, Five could see she wasn’t truly comfortable with what she was doing, and the ground was pretty far below. He stood up, looking over at you, but your back was turned as you were trying to focus on the call. When he turned back to the girl, he saw it start to happen like it was in slow motion. On the second bar, one of her hands started to slip, leaving her dangling by a few fingers. She let out a scream that got your attention, but it was too late.
Just as your daughter lost her grip with her remaining hand and began to fall to the ground, Five blinked directly under her, catching her just in time. As he stood there with your daughter in his arms, both of them looking shocked, you ran over in a panic.
“Cassie! Oh my god, are you ok?”
She nodded, still looking up at the mysterious man that had appeared out of the literal blue to save her. “Yeah.”
Five set her down and she ran to you, hugging you tightly around your waist. You held her to you and looked up at Five.
“Thank you. Thank you so much. I can’t believe I wasn’t watching…but you were…oh my god if you weren’t here…”
“No problem. I’m just glad I got there in time.”
You choked back the tears you could feel coming on. “I’m a terrible mother, aren’t I? I just let my kid fall off the monkey bars because I wasn’t paying attention. What kind of person does that?”
Five smiled gently. “A normal one. Of course you’re not a terrible mother.”
“You don’t even know me,” you sniffed with a smile.
“True. But in the very short time we’ve been talking, I can tell that you’re a great parent. Just like you can sniff out the lunatics, I can spot a shitty parent a mile away.”
Cassie let go of you, glancing back at Five with a smile and then back at you. “It’s true, mommy, you’re not shitty at all.”
“Cassie!” you gasped in horror at your daughter’s language.
Five tried to hold it in, but he had to laugh, which made Cassie laugh, which then made you laugh.
“Sorry, I think that’s my fault,” Five said.
“Well, I’d like to blame you, but the truth is I have a bad habit of swearing like a sailor myself. I just usually try to keep it to a minimum around her, but I’m not always successful.”
Five nodded with a smile before crouching down in front of Cassie. “Maybe next time stick with the swings, ok?”
Cassie frowned, her eyebrows scrunched together as she crossed her arms. “Swings are for babies. I can DO the monkey bars, but these were slippery. Someone made them slippery.”
Five looked back up at you with a grin, then back at Cassie, fixing his face so that he was serious again. “I bet they did. That seems like a very logical explanation; I can tell you are very smart.”
Cassie uncrossed her arms with a smile and nodded. “I am! I get in trouble at school for saying I’m smarter than the other kids, but it’s not my fault. I’m only telling the truth.”
“We’re working on being humble, aren’t we Cassie?” you said in a reproving way.
Five chuckled and leaned in to whisper to Cassie, making sure he was still loud enough that you could hear. “I completely understand. I have the same problem.”
The little girl nodded solemnly, recognizing a fellow put-upon genius in her midst. She looked back up at you. “Can I go on the slide now?”
“Are you sure you’re ok?”
“Yes, I’m ok.”
“Alright, then. I promise I’ll be watching.”
As she ran off to the slide, you turned to Five. “I should probably go over and stand at the bottom. Just in case.”
“Oh sure, I understand.”
“Really, I can’t thank you enough, Five. You’re amazing.”
Five put his hands in his pockets and smiled shyly. “I think amazing is a bit much, but you’re welcome.”
“So, will you be coming by to feed your buddies tomorrow?”
“Most likely, yes.”
You nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I was thinking that I might bring Cassie back here tomorrow as well. Maybe around 2pm? Do you think you’ll be here then?”
“I think I will definitely be here at 2pm.”
“Great. I’ll see you then.”
With a smile, you gave him a small wave and turned to go join your daughter at the slide. Five watched you walk away, unable to keep the growing grin off his face. This was the most interaction he’d had with anyone that wasn’t part of his family in a very long time and it felt surprisingly good. Really good.
The next day, Five was already waiting at his usual bench when you and Cassie found your way over to him. When he saw you, he stood up, holding out a cup of coffee for you. His own cup was on the bench next to where he had been sitting.
“I wasn’t sure how you liked it. Or, even if you drank coffee, but here you go. It’s just black.”
As you took the cup, you giggled. “Yes, I do drink coffee, and black is perfect. Thank you so much, that wasn’t necessary.”
Five shrugged, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I was getting one for myself anyway, so it was no trouble.”
Cassie watched as you and Five stood there smiling at one another, but not saying anything. Her eyebrows came together and she looked up at Five, tilting her head to one side.
“My mom said your name is Five.”
Snapping out of his trance, he addressed Cassie. “Yes, it is.”
“That’s a number.”
“Yes, it is.”
“That’s how old I am.”
Five nodded. “You seem very mature for your age.”
She paused, eyeing him up thoughtfully. “Five’s a weird name.”
“Cassie!” you cried out, completely embarrassed at your daughter’s lack of a filter.
Biting back a laugh, Five pretended to look confused. “What do you mean it’s weird? I know at least a dozen other people named Five.”
Cassie paused, trying to determine if he was telling the truth or not. Then she shook her head with a small smile. “No, you don’t.”
Five grinned. “See? I knew you were smart.”
You laughed at their interaction, looking around. “So, where are your friends?”
“Oh, I haven’t put out the buffet yet. They’ll be here though.” He turned to Cassie. “Would you like to help feed some very ungrateful birds with me?”
The little girl’s face lit up. “Yes!”
“Ok, then, here you go,” Five took out his usual bag of birdseed and handed it to Cassie. “Just start sprinkling it on the ground. They’ll be here before you know it.”
As she took the seed and started to throw handfuls around and up in the air, laughing to herself, you and Five sat on the bench and watched. Sure enough, after about a minute, the small flock began to swoop in. Five identified all of them that had names, which made Cassie laugh even harder. As she giggled and let out little shrieks of joy while she continued to throw them more food, you turned to Five.
“I haven’t seen her this happy in a long time.”
“Really?”
You nodded. “It’s been really hard on her since the divorce. She has to go back and forth from house to house every week. It’s stressful and I can see it taking a toll on her. Which, naturally, makes me feel like shit.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Five said earnestly. “But even if it’s hard on her now, it will be better for her in the long run. Kids are resilient and she really is very smart, so I have no doubt she’ll be fine. What happened with you and your ex, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Well,” you sighed, “it’s a long story. But the short version is that we got together when we were young and just outgrew one another over time. He’s not a bad guy, but we argued all the time. The love was gone and we just didn’t want to fight anymore.” You looked over at Cassie with a guilty frown. “I just wish I could protect her from all of this.”
Five was silent for a moment as he took that in. “Look, I’m not a parent and I don’t pretend to know anything about marriage, but I can tell you that it sounds like you did her a favor. Growing up in a house with constant bickering can be stressful in its own right. And not seeing any love between parents is even worse. So, she’ll be more than fine. You showed her that everyone deserves to be happy and she’ll carry that with her as she grows older.”
It had been so long since someone had said exactly what you needed to hear, that you immediately started to tear up. Hurriedly wiping your eyes, you laughed at yourself.
“Sorry, I’m not sure what’s wrong with me.” You looked up at Five with a grateful smile and patted his hand that was next to yours. “Thank you for that. You have no idea how much that means to me.”
Five swallowed nervously and looked down at your hand on top of his. “You’re welcome. And who knows, maybe you’ll find the right person down the road.”
“Yeah,” you said quietly, taking in his clear green eyes. “Maybe I will.”
“Mommy look!” Cassie shrieked with a laugh, jarring you and Five out of your moment.
You quickly pulled your hand away, turning your attention back to your daughter. She was standing there, smiling ear to ear, as a small, skinny pigeon sat on her shoulder like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“It likes me!”
Five laughed, shaking his head. “I have been coming here for months and not one of those damn birds has ever sat on me like that.”
You laughed, too. “Unbelievable.”
“What’s this one’s name, Five?” Cassie giggled.
“Oh, uh…yeah, that’s…Fred.”
As Cassie continued on, feeding and talking to Fred, you looked over at Five. “What was that about?”
He ran a hand through his hair and lowered his voice. “I actually call that one Fuck Face.”
When you doubled over with laughter, Five grinned from ear to ear. He’d never made anyone laugh like that before, and it was the best he’d felt in a very long time.
Over the next few weeks, you and Five built up a close friendship. He listened to your stories about single mom life and how it could be lonely and difficult. You listened to his stories of his traumatic past and how he was attempting to live as a normal man for once in his life. The conversation came easily and you never felt awkward around one another. Soon, he had integrated himself into your life, and into Cassie’s, too.
She loved spending time with Five, and on the days when you didn’t see him, she always asked about him. He liked to tease her and she was always ready with her own zingers to sling back at him. When she told him bad knock knock jokes, he would groan and tell her how horrible they were, but he would be smiling the whole time. You would sit back, watching their banter, thinking how cute they were.
There were more play dates at the park, more bird feedings, then lunch at a café, and eventually Sunday dinners at your house. Five had never felt this comfortable in his own skin before, and he actually thought he might have found what he had been looking for this whole time. Happiness.
Even though he had become such a big part of your life in such a short time, you and Five had not moved past the friends stage. You were still a little gun shy after the divorce, and you weren’t even sure Five was interested in you that way. Sure, there had been several times when you had caught him looking at you in that way that made your heart do a little flip in your chest. And maybe your breath hitched a little whenever his hand brushed against yours in passing. But you liked how things were between you. At least for now.
Five wasn’t sure how you felt about him, either. He knew you were coming off a bad relationship and you probably wanted nothing to do with men for the time being. He definitely liked spending time with you, though. He found he looked forward to it more and more. Seeing you smile when you saw him was the best part of his day. But he didn’t want to assume you were interested in anything more. If he made a move and you shot him down, not only would it be embarrassing, it might ruin what you already had. And that was too important to lose.
The three of you were at the park again, and you watched as Cassie dragged Five off toward her favorite twisty slide, taking his hand and pulling him along while he pretended to grumble about it. After he was forced to slide down the plastic slide, you laughed loudly when you saw him reach the bottom.
“What?” he asked, brushing the dust off of his pristinely pressed slacks.
“Your hair!” you laughed. “The static made it stick straight up!”
He patted at his crazy hair with a frown and tried to smash it down, which made you laugh even harder. After Cassie came tumbling out of the slide herself, Five pretended to be annoyed with her.
“Hey, kid, you didn’t tell me that slide would mess up my hair.”
Cassie giggled. “You look funny. Like a porcupine.”
After Five fixed himself as best he could, Cassie took his hand and tugged on it again, this time trying to get him to crouch down to her level. When he did, she rested her hand on his forehead for a second, pulling it back with a frown. Then she looked at Five with a shake of her head. “You don’t feel hot.”
“Should I? I’m not feeling sick.”
She looked over at you. “I heard you talking to Taylor’s mom at the bus stop and you said Five was hot.” She put her hand on his cheek. “He feels normal.”
If the ground suddenly opened up and swallowed you whole, you would not have been more grateful. Instead, you remained frozen, your face on fire and your mouth trying to form words that wouldn’t come.
“Uh…” was all that you stammered out.
In true kid fashion, Cassie was oblivious to the faux pas she created. As Five slowly stood up again, and Cassie skipped off to the swing set, unbothered by it all, his eyes met yours. The self-satisfied smirk on his face spoke a thousand words.
“You said I was hot?”
“I…no…I mean well yeah…kind of…” you tried to stumble your way through a cohesive sentence.
Five adopted his typical cool stance, with his hands in his pockets, as he continued to grin like an absolute asshole. “So, is Taylor’s mom cute? Did you give her my number?”
After a few more seconds of being mortified, you started to see the humor in the situation. You relaxed and laughed quietly, looking at the ground with a shake of your head. “Damn it, you’re an asshole sometimes, you know?”
“But still hot, right?”
“You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?” you said with a groan.
Five shook his head slowly. “Probably not.”
As you ran a hand down your still-flushed face, you sighed. With a raised eyebrow, you jabbed a finger in his direction. “You fucking know you’re hot, too. That’s what makes it worse.” When he laughed, but didn’t deny it, you sighed again.
On your way over to the swings, Five bumped you with his elbow. “You’re pretty hot yourself, you know.”
When you looked over, you saw the corner of his mouth turn up as he swallowed hard. His eyes skirted away from yours as he looked at the ground.
“Thanks, Five,” you said, suddenly feeling very warm again.
“You’re welcome.”
It was a few days later when your little trio was walking to the park from your house. After Five had joined you for dinner, you had decided to take some of the leftover bread to his group of feathered friends. As you got close to Five’s regular bench, Cassie stopped him.
“Wait. Can you do the whooshing thing with me?”
Five chuckled. “You mean blinking? I suppose. If your mom doesn’t mind.”
“You can do my mom, too,” Cassie added.
Trying to hide a laugh, he nodded. “I would love to do your mom.”
Even though that little side comment sent a tingle down your spine, you pretended you hadn’t noticed. “It’s ok, you two go ahead.”
Five shot you a very devious grin before grabbing you both by the arms and blinking you over to the bench. Your shriek of surprise was cut short as you appeared out of his portal. Cassie was falling on the ground in a fit of giggles while you tried to catch your breath with a hand on your chest.
“Sorry,” Five said, unsuccessfully holding back his own glee.
“You are not, liar,” you laughed.
With a shrug and a grin, Five handed Cassie the bread for the birds. “Here you go, kid, they should be pretty happy with this feast.”
When Cassie opened the bag and spread the crumbs on the ground, the birds descended, recognizing their new, smaller food-bringer.
“Mr. Tippington, it’s ok,” Cassie cooed to the little brown bird that had become her favorite. “Trucker Bob, you’ll like today’s dinner, it’s bread!” She swatted the angry blue jay away, just like Five had shown her. “Sandra Jay…you be nice or no one will be your friend.”
Sitting next to Five, on the bench where you had first saw him talking to those ridiculous birds, you turned to him and studied his profile. You knew his face more intimately than anyone else’s, you thought. How many times had you stared at it while he was talking? Taking in the sharp angles of his jaw and the way he swept the hair out of his eyes with an agitated hand. It made you wonder…what was stopping you from doing what you really wanted?
Out of nowhere, you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. When you pulled back, you couldn’t help but let out a short burst of laughter because the expression on his face was one of complete and utter confusion.
“Sorry,” you said, looking down at your lap. “I couldn’t resist.”
After a few seconds of Five trying to get his wits about him again, he smiled. “I’m so glad you did that first.”
“What do you mea—”
Your question was cut off by Five’s lips meeting yours, his hand coming to rest on the back of your neck. His kiss was soft and pure, and unlike any other kiss you’d had before. When you finally opened your eyes, meeting his gorgeous emerald ones, you felt so good you couldn’t contain your giant grin.
“I’m not sure what took me so long,” you confessed.
“Me either,” Five said with a chuckle before leaning in again, letting himself get lost in the softness of your lips and the sound of your quiet, contented sigh.
It was magical, pure and simple, and he wasn’t even sure how this was even possible. He wasn’t sure he was deserving of it, but he would take it.
“EW!!!”
You and Five jumped, pulling apart abruptly as Cassie looked on, hands on her hips.
“That’s gross,” she complained.
“Sorry, honey, uh…Five and I were just…”
“Mommy, I’m not dumb. I know you were kissing and it’s definitely yucky. You’re going to get germs.” She paused. “Are you married now?”
Five laughed, and covered your hand with his. “No, we’re not married. But we like each other, is that ok?”
Cassie thought for a moment, the birds around her seeming to stop and think with her. “Yeah, it’s ok. Just remember I want a baby sister, not a baby brother.” Then she turned back to her birds, ignoring the two shocked adults.
“Well…sorry about that,” you responded with a cringe.
“No need to apologize. These are all good things to know. Yes to a baby sister, no to a baby brother.”
“Oh my gosh,” you said, covering your eyes in embarrassment.
Five gently moved your hand away. When you looked back at him, his soft smile told you everything you needed to know. And when he leaned in for another kiss, you felt like you were finally where you were supposed to be.
“I want this. Do you?” he asked, his voice heartbreakingly quiet.
You nodded. “Yes. I feel like…like we’re meant to be somehow. Does that make sense?”
“It makes perfect sense,” Five said before kissing you once again, cradling your face in his hand.
Five had found what he had never dared to dream of. Someone he didn’t have to lie to, or pretend with, or put up a wall against. You liked him for who he was, and he wasn’t ashamed of anything when he was with you. You brought out all of the good within him, and he never felt safer than when he was with you and Cassie. You and she were his found family; the key to his happiness.
As for you, you had finally found the right person. Somehow, Five had become your best friend and confidant. And now, he was something more. Someone that understood you and knew the real you, all the way down to your bones. He was all you had been waiting for, and you couldn’t wait to start a new chapter of your life with him.
Summary: Eight years later, you are visited by a very strange and violent lady, who makes a deal with Five to get you out of the post-apocalyptic world. With this comes the bonus of a comfortable life and a few calm years.
Warnings: The Handler. Think I said enough. Domestic life, but starts off with the Handler threatening people. Quite physically. Also in the middle it gets a bit steamy. Talks of pregnancy and birth.
Word count: 10.6k (shit this is long)
A/n: This was also a requested fic, as a part two to Little survivor. I tried to twist the storyline a little bit, hopefully you guys will like it. I like the idea that the Commission is a part of a society where everything is disturbingly perfect. Maybe I overthought this whole thing, but honestly, it birthed a kind of great story, so... Also, I was debating splitting this into two, but then the title wouldn't have made sense. Anyway, enjoy!
As the days passed, life became harder and harder. But that didn’t stop you from enjoying time with your husband and son. Max was the cutest little kid and you really lucked out with his temperament being so good. He was the calmest little toddler, who then grew up to be a quite docile child. Sure there were a few tantrums, but in the end, he was a kind and calm little kid.
“Max!” you yelled for him as he played in front of the camp in the sand. He was now 10 years old and smarter than you thought was possible in the post-apocalyptic world. All thanks to Five, who provided the teaching material needed for him. With him working on the equations almost non-stop, it was up to you to try to get the best out of the material Five gave you.
You suddenly became aware of the deafening silence outside.
“Max?” you dropped the stick that you were using to light the fire for dinner and hurried out with your heart beating heavily in your chest.
As you rounded the corner, you saw a well-dressed woman, holding your son by his waist.
“What are you doing?!” you yelled at her, and, ready to save your son, you advanced toward her.
“Ah-ah-ah!” she held up her free hand toward you. “I wouldn’t come closer if you want this sweet little boy to live.”
“Mommy” Max whimpered in the woman’s hold.
You eyed him with worry in your eyes, then looked up, glaring at the woman.
“What do you want?” you asked.
“Just an answer,” she started, “where is Number Five?”
Your heart beat even more anxiously at that question. Five went out to gather more resources for the week and he was supposed to arrive by dinnertime. You were only expecting him around the time when the sun lowered beneath the horizon and that wasn’t til later.
“I don’t- I-” you stuttered.
“Don’t lie to me. I know you know where he went” the lady said calmly and you watched in horror as a small pistol was raised toward Max. “Now, where is Number Five?”
“Please don’t! I’m begging you, I don’t know where he is!” you pleaded, now on your knees. “Don’t hurt him, he’s just an innocent boy! Please.”
In that moment, the man in question turned up. When he saw the scene in front of him, a wild fire lit inside his heart. Not only was he scared, but angry as well. Who dares to threaten his whole world?! He dropped his gatherings and grabbing his gun, he ran up behind the unfamiliar woman.
“Let. My son. Go!” he gritted his teeth, holding the gun up toward the woman’s head.
“Ah, Number Five!” the woman turned around, smiling widely. “Just the man I wanted to see!” she thankfully put the pistol away.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked, still not putting his gun down, focusing fully on the woman, on every little move just in case she would hurt Max.
“Daddy” Max whimpered this time and Five’s eyes flickered over to him for just a fraction of a second.
“I’m here to help” the woman answered, still holding Max tightly.
“By holding my son hostage?” he asked, angrier than ever. “Tell me why I shouldn’t put a bullet right between your eyes!” he gritted.
“‘Cause…” the woman started, walking forward. Through your tears you could see Max struggling in her arms, trying to twist out of her hold. “If you did that, you wouldn’t hear the offer I’m about to give you” she said simply. “Which would be rather tragic, given your…” she looked back at you, “current circumstances.”
“What do you want? And be careful with what you say! My hands are quicker than you would expect” Five warned, his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot at any given moment. He just had to wait for when Max was safe out of her hands so he could shoot the woman dead.
“I work for an organization called the Commission” she started her explanation. “We are tasked with the preservation of the time-continuum through manipulation and removals.”
“Sometimes people make choices that… alter time” she shrugged. “Free will. Don’t get me started on that… When that happens, we dispatch one of our agents to… “she searched for the right words, “eliminate the threat.”
This caused Five to harden his shoulders, keeping the gun pointed at the woman, ready to shoot.
“No, no, no” she put her free hand up, chuckling. “You misunderstand me. You are not a target.”
“Then why don’t you let the boy go?” he hissed.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that just yet. I need your answer to my proposal” she smiled. “I’ve come to offer you a job, Number Five” she said. “We’ve had our eyes on you for quite some time. And we think you have potential!”
“What the hell are you on about?” he asked.
“Your survival skills made you quite a celebrity in the Headquarters” she explained. “The way you strive hard to protect what little you have and provide for them” she glanced back at you and then down at the boy in her hands. She reached out and caressed his head, which in turn made Five suck in a sharp breath. “That, and your ability to jump through time.”
“Don’t touch him” he hissed. “Tell me what’s in it for me? Why would I go with you?”
“You could get out of this place for one” the woman sighed. “And also go back to your family if you complete five years with us.”
“You… you’re saying we could be free?” he asked, glancing behind the woman, right at your still sobbing form.
“Once you served five years, your contract will be done, giving you a chance to retire to the time and place of your choosing” she smiled tightly.
Five thought hard about all that this woman was talking about. This could be his chance to save you, to finally give you and your family the life you deserved. He could live comfortably with you, have the domestic life you wished for and grow old.
“What about my wife and son?” he asked, which seemed to annoy the woman.
“You can bring them with you” she said and he could hear the distaste in her tone. “So, do we have an agreement?” she offered her free hand.
Five looked at you, lowering his gun slightly. You looked so scared, for him and for your son. He never wanted to see you like that. He didn’t want you to suffer. He wanted to give the both of you a chance at a normal life.
He looked at his son, who was sniffling in the woman’s arm, clearly scared out of his mind. The poor boy didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be so traumatized by this post-apocalyptic world, by this woman, who threatened his life. He should be better off, in school, with food to fill his belly, clothes that fit him well and a roof over his head.
He will do this. For you. For Max. For his family.
“Fine” he put the gun down and approached the woman to shake her hand. “I’ll do it.”
“Wonderful!” the woman lightened up, letting Max out of her hold and shaking Five’s hand.
The moment your son was out of the woman’s hold, he collapsed, his legs giving out underneath him. But in the next moment, Five reached out for him, pulling him up and lifting him into his arms.
“We shall leave momentarily. We have a lot to do” the woman turned away and walked into the little camp to sit down.
The second she was out of sight, you rushed to Five and Max and collapsed with the two of them on the floor.
“Five” you sobbed, your heart pounding in your chest. “Max, oh my poor boy.”
“Mommy, daddy” he cried, grabbing onto both of you.
“You’re safe now, you’re safe” Five tried to calm the young boy, who didn’t deserve all this. He pulled you in, close, so he could take in your features, making sure you were still there. “You’re both safe.”
The first day at the Commission consisted of Five being dragged away for orientation and basic training while you and Max were herded to a room to wait for someone who would show you to your new house.
You didn’t have to wait long: a woman with black hair and wearing a skirt suit opened the door. She had a kind smile on her face, and though she looked different and kinder than the other woman was, you still grabbed onto Max tightly.
“Oh, don’t be afraid!” she said quickly, her voice light and sweet. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Dot, I work a desk job here. And I got the honor to show you to your new home!”
Still weary, but slightly comforted, you loosen your hold on your son, who looks at Dot in curiosity.
“I’m Y/n” you decide to introduce yourself. “And this is my son, Max.”
“Oh, what a cutie. How old is he?” her smile widens, a soft glow flashing in her eyes.
“He’s ten” you look down at him, still clutching your arm tightly.
“Aw, he looks a lot like Five. And his eyes! They look just like yours” she gushes.
“Thank you” you let yourself smile a little bit.
“Now, I’m sure you’re tired and in need of a good shower. Let us get going then.”
You nod, taking Max’s hand in yours and follow Dot out the door.
“We’re actually not far from the housing, you guys got a pretty adorable family home” she looked back at you as you walked through the entrance hall and then the doors.
It was a sunny day, colder than it was in the apocalypse, but the air was much fresher here. You didn’t know what year you were in or where you were for a fact. But you were just happy to be away from that hellhole.
“Do you know if…” you started and Dot looked back at you, curiously. “If that woman… will she bother us?”
“The Handler?” she asked and you shrugged. If that was her name… “Oh I don’t think she will. She only cares about agents, so you and Max should be fine.”
“And… and Five?” your heart raced. Was he in danger?
“That, I don’t know. I would assume no. She is a big fan of his, so if anything, she’ll make sure he’s fine” Dot hummed.
“Alright” you sigh.
Dot lead you through a small garden that was the Commission’s and you found yourself in view of a village-like assortment of houses. There were some smaller family homes and then there were a couple of huge buildings, which consisted of apartments.
“Do other agents have families?” you asked as you neared the main street.
“Field agents? No, most of them are either alone or only have a partner, no kids. But many of our people in filing or some of our security actually have families. Some smaller, some bigger” she explained.
You hummed and looked down at Max. Maybe he could make friends with other children. He wouldn’t have to be alone. And you could also meet some other moms…
You rounded a corner and found yourselves in a long street, filled with family homes and a playground.
“This is the street you will be living on” Dot smiled. “If you go down the road where we came, we actually have a clothing store and grocery store, so you can buy your own stuff. A bit further from the housing area, you can find an elementary school and a high school as well. Max will be enrolled by the end of the week. You’ll receive a mail from one of our staff.”
“He can go to school?” you asked, your heart picking up pace.
“Of course!” she smiled. “Only the best teachers there.”
“Oh” you nodded.
“Well, we arrived” she stopped in front of a beautiful blue house with white picket fence and a small garden. “Hope you’ll enjoy your stay with us. Five will be here any time he is free or has his day off. But don’t worry, Mary, the woman who lives in the house beside yours, and her daughters Betty and Lily are excited to get to know you guys.”
“Thank you.”
“Well, I’ll leave you to it. It was great to meet you” she stepped back and waved.
“You too” you smiled and waited for Dot to disappear down the street before squatting down in front of Max. “Are you okay?”
“Yes Mama” he nodded and though you could see a little bit of worry in his gaze, he seemed to say the truth.
“Alright darling. Shall we see what’s inside?” you caressed his cheek and he nodded, gripping onto your hand.
You stepped up the few stairs to the front door. There was a key in the door, presumably the one you were meant to use later on. You took the keys out and opened the door.
It really was a small and cute home. Everything aesthetically arranged, the walls and floors in beautiful contrast. It was a wild change from the apocalypse, where everything was very yellow most days.
Across from the front door was a kitchen and dining room with a door to the family bathroom. On your right was the master bedroom, which was painted in a similar light blue as the outside was. To the left, there were two rooms, one the living room and the other a smaller bedroom.
“Look, I think that will be your bedroom” you pointed to the open door. “Do you want to see it?”
“My… my room?” Max looked up at you, confused. “I will sleep alone?”
“Yeah” you nodded.
“But… I don’t want to” the boy’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t want to be alone.”
“Oh darling” you pulled him in your arms. “You won’t be alone. We’ll be right across from your room. We won’t be far.”
“But at night…” he sniffled. “The monsters will come.”
“Your dad will keep you safe from them” you tried to calm him. “We’ll never let them hurt you.”
But Max was crying, inconsolably. You tried to think about what you could do. How could you help him? His sobs were twisting your heart and you felt as helpless as when the Handler arrived in the afternoon. Where you were unable to move, unable to help your little boy, who didn’t deserve all that. You could only imagine what was going through his head in that moment and now, hours after it.
“Tell you what. You can sleep with us for the first few weeks, okay?” you pulled away a little, looking into his eyes. “You can get used to your room during the day. Would that be alright, darling?”
“Y-yeah” he sniffled.
“Alright, now let’s get you cleaned up and some food in your tummy, okay?”
Max nodded, still rubbing at his eyes. You pressed a kiss to his forehead and walked into the dining room, where the door to the bathroom could be found. There was a shower and bath combination in the opposite corner, with some soap and shampoo. It was all neatly arranged and you once again felt that jarring feeling of everything being just… off. But you just took a breath and looked at Max.
“Do you need help or can you wash your body and hair alone?” you asked gently.
“I can do it” Max squared his shoulders, trying to appear strong and you smiled. “But…” he looked up at you. “Can you stay with me?”
“Yeah, of course. How about you take your clothes off and pee while mama goes and sees if there are some clothes in your room?” you suggested.
Max’s hold on your hand tightened for a second and you could see the conflict on his little face. But then he slowly nodded and let you go.
“Alright, I’ll be right back, okay? If you’re done, then stand in the shower.”
Max nodded, looking toward the bathtub. You quickly walked to the smaller room, leaving both doors open, so you could hear your son if he needed help. In the room there was a dresser and a single bed. It was clearly meant to be a kid’s bedroom, what with the wallpaper having dinosaurs and birds on it.
You looked in the dresser to see different sized clothes, both for boys and girls. You sighed in relief and grabbed two different sizes from underwear, pants and a t-shirt, not knowing which one will be good for Max. It’s been a long while since you saw new clothes and not to mention that you never had the luxury for Max to wear the right sized clothing.
“You’re in luck” you stepped back into the bathroom. “We got some clothes here. I brought you two sizes, we’ll see which one will be good” you smiled and watched as Max nodded, stepping into the shower. “I’ll help you adjust the water” you put the clothes down on the sink and reached out to the taps. “See, this has a red dot. It means it’ll give you hot water. And on the other side is a blue dot. It means cold water” you explained to him. “Hold your hand out, underneath the tap” you instruct him, kneeling next to the tub. “I’ll start the water, okay?”
Max nodded and squatted down, holding his hand under the water.
“Tell me if it’s too warm or too cold, okay? We’ll adjust it.”
With your help, Max got the right temperature and he - albeit a bit clumsily - washed as much of the dirt away as he could. You helped with his hair a bit, but otherwise just kneeled next to the tub, so he could do most of it himself.
“Alright. That feel okay?” you asked as you helped him out of the tub and gave him a towel.
“Weird” he said simply.
“I know darling. But now you’ll get used to it. It’s going to be all okay” you promised, drying his hair. “Should we see which clothes will fit you?”
Max nodded and so you picked up the smaller underwear first. To your surprise it slid on easily, even loose around his waist a bit. You knew that Max was a smaller kid then others his age might have been and that’s all thanks to the apocalypse. But you didn’t think he was this small.
“Should I see a smaller size still?” you asked him. “Or is that comfortable.”
“It’s okay mama” he shrugged.
“As you wish,” you sigh. “Are you feeling hungry?” you helped him into his pants and shirt as well.
“A bit” he nodded.
“Alright. I’ll see what I can do” you smiled at him. “Why don’t you grab a book that looks interesting to you and we’ll practice your reading while I cook?”
Max nodded and walked toward the smaller bedroom, looking back at you, to make sure you were still there. When he was reassured, he quickly went in and took a book from the bookshelf. In an instant, he was back in the corridor and taking your hand.
“Well, come on, then” you smiled gently and went up to the counter.
Max sat down at the small circular table, opening the book he grabbed. You watched him flip to the first page and looked at the words. He knew how to read, you and Five taught him. But it took him a little time.
“The story of… Doctor… Do- Dolittle?” he pronounced it slowly, then looked up for confirmation. You smiled at him encouragingly. “The first… chapter. Pudd-puddle-puddleby. O-once upon a time, many… years ago…” Max started reading slowly.
As he read, you started to look through the pantry to see what could be used to make a meal. You didn’t really know how to cook, but thankfully there were some cookbooks that you could use.
You always wanted to get out of the apocalypse, but never imagined what you’d do once you’re out. You never wondered about some of the simple facts of a normal life. Like how to cook. But you were ready to learn. Anything really.
You and Max spent the rest of the afternoon in the kitchen. He read slowly, page after page and you trying to put a meal together for your little family.
“Y/n, Max?” you heard the door opening and Five calling out to you.
“In the kitchen!” you called back just as Max sprang from his seat, running toward Five, yelling: “Daddy!”
You smiled as you walked toward them, seeing Five embrace the boy.
“Hey, little crumb. How was your afternoon?” he asked. “What did you do? Oh and what is that smell? Is that your hair?”
“Yeah! We showered! And daddy, you know, the soap smells so good!” Max rushed out.
“Does it now?” he smiled. “Well, I’ll have to see it for myself.”
“And I read a book about a magic doctor! He can talk to animals!”
“He can?” he laughed gently. “You’ll have to read it for me too, son.”
“C’mon!” Max stood up and pulled him toward the kitchen.
“Hey” Five smiled as he reached you.
“Hi, how was the orientation and training?” you asked, reaching out to him.
“Boring” he sighed and leaned over to peck your lips. “But I got my first assignment. I’ll be going there tomorrow.”
“For how long?” you asked, worried.
“Shouldn’t be long. It’s supposed to be part of the training, with a more experienced agent by my side, so maybe that day? Or two?” he guessed.
“Alright” you sighed.
“You’ll be alright?” he asked gently.
“I will” you nodded. “Just be careful.”
“I will” he promised.
You sighed and pulled away, turning to the stove, where the food was finishing cooking. As you prepared the plates, Max explained the plot of Dolittle to Five, excited about the story.
“Alright boys, it’s time to eat” you put their plates in front of them, full of warm food. “I hope it’s good.”
“I’m sure it is” Five smiled at you.
Truly, it was not so bad. It was definitely better than what you ate in the apocalypse, which was a relief. And even though you cooked the normal amount, there was so much left after you finished eating, you felt worried. You knew it would take time to get used to eating like normal humans, but you couldn’t help but worry about your son.
After dinner, you heard the clock chime loudly from the living room.
“What was that?” you furrowed your eyebrows.
“Oh, they didn’t explain it to you?” Five looked at you. “In the evening and morning the clocks chime to signal the end and the beginning of the day. We’re supposed to go to bed.”
“Oh” you frowned. “Okay.”
“We’ll get used to it” he comforted and turned to Max. “Well, little crumb, could you show me which soap was so good smelling?”
“Yes!” he perked up and jumped off his chair. “Come on daddy!”
You smiled at the two of them before picking up the plates and washing them. You once again marveled about the way water felt on your skin. You couldn’t wrap your head around the day you had. It was so far-fetched and such an outlandish idea, that your brain couldn’t accept it.
“Mama, could you read a bed-time story for me?” Max came to the kitchen, forcing you out of your thoughts.
“Sure thing, baby. Would you like me to read Dr. Dolittle?” you smiled gently.
“No” he shook his head. “I want to read it myself. Could you read something else?”
“Of course” you smiled. “Let’s go to the room and see what we have.”
You soon found a book called “The Wheel on the School”, which Max liked the sound of, so you gave it to him and turned around to look for some pajamas for him.
“What are you looking for, mama?” he asked curiously.
“Some pajamas” you looked back at him. “You know, when you go to sleep, you are supposed to wear some clean, comfortable clothes to bed” you explained to him.
“Oh.”
“Here you go, son” you gave him the pair you found.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie.”
“Will you wear pajamas?” he asked as you went to the master bedroom.
“Yes, but first I need to shower as well.”
“Okay…” Max nodded. “Will daddy stay with me until then?”
“Of course” you nodded. “Now get into bed, I’ll read to you, until daddy finishes showering.
Max climbed on top of the king-sized bed and lay down beneath the sheets, in the middle.
“Comfortable?” you asked and Max nodded. So you started reading to him.
When Five came out of the bathroom, he found the beautiful scene in front of him. Max, in the bed, lying sleepily beneath the sheets, fighting to keep his eyes open, and you, sitting in the armchair close to the bed, reading to him in a soft voice. Five’s heart jumped, filled with warmth and love. His little family, who survived so much and who deserved the world. The reason he was doing all of this.
You finished reading and put the book down, looking at your fast-asleep son. You smiled gently and walked over to him, pressing a light kiss on his forehead. Then you looked up at the door, where Five was standing. He was clean and shaven. You smiled at him and walked up to him.
“You look good” you said to him sincerely.
“Thank you” he smiled and put his hand on your waist, pulling you in. “I didn’t dare to shave it clean, so I left a little stubble.”
“It looks good” you leaned into him, putting your hand on his jaw. “It feels good.”
Five let out an airy laugh and hugged you properly. The day was crazy and he couldn’t be more thankful for your strong presence.
“I love you so much” he murmured.
“I love you more” you teased, pulling a bit away, so you could put your hand on his cheek again.
“Not possible” he smiled.
“Everything’s possible” you countered and then leaned in to kiss him.
He held you close, gripping your waist tightly. In the unfamiliar setting, he finally found something familiar: you. The way you taste was still the same, your lips reacting to his. He was glad to be kissing you once again.
“I wish…” you sigh against his lips.
“You wish?” he murmurs, not wanting to let you go.
“I wish we were alone now. If just for a moment” you finish your sentence, kissing him again. “But I need to shower and our son is lying in our bed.”
“Hm, maybe later then” he surmised.
“In a few weeks. He will get used to his own bedroom and then…” you smirked at him cheekily.
“Can’t wait” he smiled, warmth and passion glinting in his eyes.
A month later, Five finally got his first paycheck in his hands. And he couldn’t believe his eyes. When they said that the payout for a good performance was great, he thought that they would pay him good. But not this good! For weeks now he thought about what he could buy from the first paycheck. He could get more groceries, he could buy his son some clothes that would fit him and also could be his own choosing, he could buy you a beautiful dress, like the ones you fantasized about in the apocalypse and… Well… the most pressing one in his mind was a ring. So that you could wear the sign of your love.
And so, without much thinking, as his hours were done, he immediately blinked to the street of stores in the city. He found the jewelers and went in.
“Hi! I’m looking for wedding rings?” he smiled lightly.
⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎‣•‣⁎
You were in the kitchen, making a fruit salad when the door slammed.
“Max, I told you, be careful of the door!” you yelled out.
“Sorry mama,” he rushed in.
“How was school, dear?”
“Good! Bennet played with me in recess!” he beamed.
“Oh really? And what did you play?” you smiled and Max took a deep breath before he started gushing about his day in school.
True to Dot’s words, at the end of your first week in Temps, a letter arrived in your mailbox. In it, they stated that Max would join class 4/B, which is right in his age-group and well within his skillset. They also sent over some paperwork, essential for securing his identity as a citizen.
The first week in school was… trying to say the least. But thanks to Max’s good temperament, it became easier and easier each day.
Now, in the third week of school, Max was starting to make friends. The left side neighbor’s twin daughters Betty and Lily were also in Max’s class, so them, and now apparently Bennet as well, became fast friends.
It turned out that Betty and Lily’s mother, Mary, was working in a café on the street where the school was located, so after a couple hang-outs with the three of them: a deal was made. She would take the kids to school on most days, and when she wasn’t working, you would walk them.
Mary was also very helpful with understanding the town’s rules. The chimes from the clock in the morning and evening were only the beginning. There were also some other things like: lunch was strictly at 12pm, at 3pm you had to have a coffee break (or tea break for the kids) and chat with either your neighbors or your co-workers and also, there was a curfew of 8pm being the latest you could leave the house. You also couldn’t work into the night (the only exception being the night guards at the Commission building) and couldn’t leave your house before 7am. There were some others as well, but they were not essential to your days.
Now, after a month, you were finally starting to get used to Temps’ weird rules and even weirder people. Still, you couldn’t help but sigh in relief whenever 8pm rolled around and you could be alone in the privacy of your home with your husband and son.
“…And can you imagine? Bennet said it was such a cool game!” Max was still gushing about recess and you couldn’t help but smile.
Since he started eating more and healthier, he started growing. Not much in a month, but his clothes now fit perfectly on him and you didn’t have to fold the bottom of his pants up anymore. There was also a healthy glow to him, his hair becoming fuller and shining brighter. You were so glad to see the change.
“Honey, I’m home!” you heard Five call out to you and you smiled as Max’s rambling stopped and his eyes lit up.
“Daddy!” he ran to Five as he reached the kitchen door.
“Hi little crumb” Five smiled and squatted down to embrace him. “Did you have a good day?”
“Yes, the best!” Max beamed. “Bennet played with me in recess!”
“Oh really? Wow!” Five laughed, happy for his son. “That’s amazing, baby!”
“It was! And he invited me over for a sleepover!” he mentioned, which caused you to stop smiling and looked at Five, who also looked at you.
“Really? You haven’t said that yet” you put the spoon down into the bowl and walked to your boys. “Did he ask his mom?”
“He said he would once he got home” Max looked at you. “Mama, can I go?”
“I don’t know son, we haven’t talked to Bennet’s mom yet. We don’t know if she agreed to host the sleepover” you sighed and you could see Max’s face fall.
“Tell you what. If they show up, we’ll talk about it” Five tried to reassure the boy, but it didn't help much. He pulled away from both of you and turned to walk down the hall and into his bedroom.
You sighed again, sad to see your son so sad. Five stood up and you could see that he shared that compliment. But there truly was nothing you could do.
So you went back to mixing the fruit bowl together and Five went back to the door so he could take his shoes off before joining you in the kitchen.
“So, how was work today?” you asked.
“It was… fine” he shrugged. “I got my first pay-check.”
“Oh, yeah?” you looked up at him.
“Yeah and, I was surprised to say the least” Five sighed and got the paper out of his suit pocket. “Look at this” he walked up to you and showed you the paper. You almost dropped the bowl from your hands.
“What?!” you asked. “Is that real?”
“Apparently so” he nodded.
“Oh my God…” you blinked, looking up at him. “What do we even do with all that…”
“I don’t know” he sighed. “Well… this months’ I know, because I-”
But at that moment there was a knock from the door. You and Five looked at each other before walking up to the door. Through the glass, you could see a woman standing there. You looked at Five again before opening the door.
“Good afternoon” she greeted.
“Good afternoon” you greeted back with Five. “What can we help you with?”
“Oh my son, Bennet came home from school saying he wanted to invite Max around for a sleepover” she smiled.
“Oh, you must be Sharon!” you smiled at her. “I’m Y/n, and this is Five, my husband.”
Bennet peeked out from behind her and looked up at you.
“Good afternoon” he said shyly.
“Hi, Bennet” you smiled at him as well, then looked up at Sharon. “Would you like some fruit salad? I just finished making it.”
“Thank you so much” she nodded and followed you inside.
“Five, would you be so kind and tell Max that his friend is here?” you looked at him and he nodded. You reached up to take five small bowls out and turned back to Bennet and Sharon. “Bennet, a fruit salad?”
“Yes, thank you” he said just in time when Max came bounding out of the room.
“Bennet!” he shouted happily. “Good afternoon Mrs Meyer.”
“Hi Max” she smiled and let the boys sit together.
“Sharon, a fruit salad?” you looked at her.
“Thank you, I’ll take one” she agreed and you put some of the fruit salad in her bowl as well before placing it in front of the two guests.
“Max, Five?” you asked.
“Yes, thank you mama!” Max agreed loudly, while Five just nodded.
“Here you go, boys” you gave one to each of them. “So, Sharon. You were saying?”
“Bennet wanted Max over for a sleepover” she started. “I have no objections to Max spending the night if you are okay with it as well.”
“Yes, we…” Five started before rethinking his choice of words. “What I mean is, as you know Max had a difficult time adjusting to being away from us at night. We don’t wish to give you any trouble, should he get scared and decide that being houses away from us is too much.”
“I promise daddy, I won’t!” Max immediately said. “I’ll be good!”
“I have no doubt about that, sweetheart. We just don’t want you to feel scared.”
“But mama…” he looked at you sadly.
“How about we put down some ground rules?” Sharon suggested.
“What do you suggest?” Five asked.
So in over an hour, you talked it all out. You agreed that she could take the boys and there wouldn’t be a word about disobeying the Meyer parents’ words. If that would happen, they couldn’t go over to the other’s house for a week. The boys thought that over and then agreed.
“Max, come with me, we’ll put your clothes together” you told your son.
He eagerly followed you to his room, jumping around as he watched you grab a bag from the top of the dresser. You told him what to grab and he rushed to find it and give it to you. You neatly folded them into his overnight bag and once everything was in, you zipped it in and grabbed his hands.
“Listen son, this is the first time you’ll be away from us at night” you started. “But I want you to enjoy this. If you find yourself afraid, remember: mommy and daddy will always protect you. There’s nothing that can harm you” you told him and he nodded slowly. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, mama” he smiled and let you pull him in for a hug. You pressed a kiss to his head and smiled at him.
“Alright,” you stood up and walked out with him to the kitchen. “We’re ready.”
“Well, thank you so much for the fruit salad, it was really good” Sharon stood up, Bennet coming up beside her.
“Yes, thank you Mrs. Hargreeves!” he beamed.
“You’re very welcome. And Sharon, thank you so much for letting the boys have this sleepover. If this goes well, the next one is on us.”
Sharon nodded and herded the boys outside. You stopped in the doorway and Five came up to hug you from behind. You watched as Bennet and Max excitedly chattered, happy to spend time together. Five pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder as you sighed, filled with worry.
Though Max looked engrossed in his conversation with Bennet, he thankfully looked back at you two and waved goodbye. You forced a smile and waved back. You stayed out until the Meyers’ car disappeared from view and then Five gently led you back inside.
“It’s going to be okay, my love” he said gently, hand around your waist and his other hand leading you. “He’ll be okay.”
“I know” you sighed, sitting on the couch with him. “I’m just worried.”
“I know, darling” he pulled you in his arms, holding you close. “But look at the bright side.”
“Which is?”
“He felt up to going. Remember the first week? He couldn’t even let you go to the bathroom alone. Now he’s finally healing” he explained.
“You’re right” you nodded. “Still, it doesn’t stop me from worrying.”
“And it doesn’t have to. You’re his mom, of course you worry about him” he reassured you. “How about I take your mind off of it?”
“What do you have in mind?” you looked at him.
“Remember our wedding?” he pulled a bit away from you and turned you to face him.
“How could I forget?” you smiled.
“Well, we’ve been married for… about fifteen years.”
“Yeah?” you blinked. “It’s been that long?”
“Yeah” he chuckled. “And I finally bought the one missing thing from that day.”
“You did?” your heart picked up speed.
“I did” he pulled the box out of his pocket. “It’s not exactly what I imagined… and I wish we could’ve chosen it together, but… I just wanted to surprise you” he opened the box and the sight of the two golden rings in it made tears spring in your eyes.
“Oh Five” you sobbed, reaching a shaky hand out to cover his own.
“Do you like it?” he asked, slight worry in his eyes.
“They’re perfect” you sniffled, smiling through your tears. “God, they’re so perfect.
“I’m glad you think so” he smiled sweetly and reached into the box, picking up the smaller ring. “May I?” he asked, holding his free hand out.
You nodded and offered him your right hand. He pulled it on your finger, then raised it up to kiss it. You sniffled as he reached his hands out to wipe your fingers.
“My beautiful bride, the gorgeous mother of my child” he murmured. “Thank you so much for staying with me.”
You sniffled, trying to keep your sobs and tears in. You reached shakily for the other ring and took Five’s right hand in yours.
“You’re the love of my life” you whispered, not trusting your voice. “I love you so much” you pushed the ring up on his ring finger gently, putting your own right hand next to it. “I can’t believe we finally have these…”
“I couldn’t be happier” Five turned his right hand and took your hand, caressing your knuckles.
“I’m so happy” you agreed, wiping your tears and looking up at him. “Thank you. For everything you do for us.”
“I love you” he replied.
“I love you too” and finally Five leaned in and kissed you.
It was so soft, so full of love, you couldn’t comprehend how there could be so much love. But you just pulled him closer, your hand going up to his soft hair, grabbing a fistful of it. His hands went to your waist and pulled you in his lap oh so gently.
“Five…” you breathed into his mouth, trying to convey the message you couldn’t form with words.
“Y/n…” he sighed, pulling your lips back on his, while guiding his hand holding your waist down to your ass, so in the next moment he could stand up with you in his arms.
You yelped, but then you were back to kissing him, letting his tongue in your mouth as he walked with you toward your bedroom. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pushing your bodies together. You were in the bedroom quicker than you could’ve imagined, the door slamming shut behind you.
The sixth month of your stay at Temps became a huge deal. Not only was it a really long time that you could stay in one place and be perfectly comfortable, but also it became a big milestone in your lives.
Around the fourth month of staying in Temps, you found out something really big. Like huge. It wasn’t something you were expecting or hoping for, but you were still really happy. You still remember talking about this with Five.
“So… uh, Five?” you started the conversation one night after you put Max down to sleep.
“Yeah?” he looked at you, climbing into bed and pulling you in close.
“You know when we were talking about Max, way back when…” you tried to find the right words.
“Back when…” he tried to urge you on with your explanation. “In the apocalypse?”
“Yeah…” you nodded into his shoulder, trying to contain your anxiety mixed with excitement. “Specifically when he was just a little toddler.”
“Hm, still not sure which conversation you refer to” he hummed.
“Well it wasn’t just that one time we talked about this. But that was the first time. Actually we talked a lot about this, all things considered” you explained vaguely.
“Is it about his normal life?” he asked.
“No- well partly” you agreed.
“So… what is it, Y/n?” he caressed your shoulder.
“Okay, okay” you got up suddenly, kneeling beside him. “So… things have been going better for us, right?”
“Yeah” he nodded, turning to his side to look at you properly.
“And we’re no longer in the apocalypse…”
“Thankfully.”
“And, well… I know it’s a bit late and Max is so old now, but…” you stopped for a second, not sure if Five will be happy.
“But…?” he was holding his breath now, you could tell.
“I’m- I’m pregnant” you finally blurted it out.
For a moment there was silence. You could see the wheels turning in Five’s head. Then he was up on his knees as well.
“Are you serious?” he asked, shocked.
“Y-yeah” you nodded, afraid of his reaction.
“You’re really, really serious?” he grabbed onto your hands.
“Yes. Are you-” but you couldn’t even finish your question because Five grabbed you by your sides, pulling you close and squeezing you.
“You’re really pregnant” he whispered, though you couldn’t decide whether it was a question or a statement.
“Yeah” you whispered back, still a little confused about his reaction being happy or not so much.
“Oh my God…” he breathed out and that’s when you became aware of his shaking body and the sudden wetness at your neck, where Five buried his head.
You finally smiled and let yourself get lost in Five’s warm embrace and pure love.
And since then you tried to figure out Max’s stance on siblings. You haven’t popped yet, so you could hide it from him, even if that made you feel bad. You never really had secrets in front of Max, especially not big ones that concerned his future as well.
But you heard enough horror stories about kids reacting badly about a new addition to the family before, so you wanted to be prepared. You didn’t want Max to feel like he’s loved less just because there will be a baby in the house. And though you didn’t ask him right out about siblings, there were a number of ways you deduced whether or not Max was ready for a baby sibling.
Today, you noticed in the morning, while you were getting dressed, that your stomach seemed a lot… bigger. It took only a second to realize what happened: you popped. So it was time.
By some twist of fate, it was Five’s day off. And so, immediately as you noticed, you stalked out into the kitchen, where he prepared morning coffee and breakfast.
“Five” you whispered. It was still early in the morning and you didn’t want to wake Max up.
“Yes, my love?” he asked, looking up from his book.
“I popped!” you smile at him, turning to the side, so he could see the big change in your figure.
“Oh my God!” he put his book down, eyes filled with wonder. “You really did!”
He stood up from his seat and walked to you, so he could caress over the bulge of your stomach. You were looking up at his face, seeing him so focused on your belly, eyes full of wonder and love.
“You’re so amazing” he whispered, his free hand going around your waist and pulling you close.
“No, you are” you smiled, lifting his chin with a hand. “Without your hard work, we wouldn’t be here, safe. But thanks to you, Max could heal, we could build a life and also,” you put your hand on his, that was still caressing your baby bump, “expand our little family.”
Five smiled at you gratefully, then leaned in to kiss your lips sweetly. He pulled your robes in again, when he suddenly heard shifting from Max’s room and smiled at you encouragingly.
“Today’s the day.”
“Yeah” you sighed and sat down at the table, grabbing one toast from the pile.
The next moment, Max’s door opened and your son stumbled out, completely out of it from sleep. You smiled at his sleepy face and the way he sluggishly walked toward you and Five.
“Hey there, little crumb” Five smiled, embracing his son when he reached him. “How did you sleep?”
The only answer was a little grunt, which made both Five and you giggle lightly. Contrary to you and Five, Max was not a morning bird. While both you and Five got out of bed easily in the mornings, on most days you had to practically drag your son out.
“Darling, come, there is breakfast here for you” you said gently and pulled a chair out for your son to sit down on. “How about some milk, would you like some?”
Max nodded slowly and sat down next to you. You got up to grab the milk, pouring some for the young boy.
“Here you go” you smiled at him.
Breakfast went by in silence, Max waking up more and more as he ate. Soon, he was starting to chit-chat about the weekend and how you could go to the playground.
“We can, right?” he looked at the two of you and you shared a look with your husband.
“Not right now, son” Five put a hand on his smaller one. “Actually, mama and I want to talk to you.”
“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, immediately scared about being told off.
“No, no” you said quickly, placing a hand on his other hand. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. There’s just something that’s… Well…”
“There will be some changes in our lives…” Five helped you out. “Soon.”
“What changes?” Max looked between you.
“Well… you know how mama has been feeling unwell for the past few weeks?”
“Is… is mama sick?” Max turned to you, his eyes filling with tears.
“No darling, I’m very healthy” you smiled gently at him. “The sickness has been caused by something else” you thought for a moment on how to approach the subject. “You know Betty and Lily, how they’re sisters?” Max nodded. “They were born on the same day. But you can have siblings a few years in-between.”
“Like Dean and Paul?” he asked, referring to his classmate, who had a younger brother.
“Yes, like Dean and Paul” you nodded.
“What we’re trying to tell you is that mama is now…” Five started. “Well, mama is carrying a baby. In her stomach.”
“What?” Max looked at you, his brain working overtime.
“Yeah, darling” you moved a bit around the table, so he could see your midsection and you opened your robes. “I’m pregnant.”
Max blinked a couple times, reaching out to touch your stomach as if not trusting his eyes. “There’s a baby in there?”
“Yeah” Five nodded.
“And… he is going to be my little brother?” he asked, looking up at you.
“Or sister, we don’t know their gender yet” you smiled. “Are you happy?”
At that question Max’s eyes filled with tears and moved in to hug you. He was gentle, steering clear from your belly. There, he nestled his face into you and nodded a little.
Around your one year mark of staying at Temps, you were about ready to pop. You ached everywhere, your feet were swollen and you were constantly tired. It was no longer fun being pregnant.
But in hindsight, it was a better pregnancy than it was with Max. There were obvious differences and not just because you were in an apocalypse then. Your stomach was bigger and rounder than it was with him and also, your feet had swollen more.
You were ready for the baby, more so than you were when you learned that Five was going on a longer mission in a few days.
“Come on, baby. I don’t want your father missing your arrival” you groaned as you tried to get off of the couch in the afternoon. “He deserves to be there to greet you. Please.”
But the only thing you can do is wait. Wait for the baby to feel ready. Your doctor said that from the 38th week, it can happen any day. And you couldn’t be more happy about that fact. You were ready for them to arrive.
But they didn’t arrive that day. Nor the next one. And Five’s departure for his mission just kept crawling closer.
“Don’t worry” Five tried to placate you every night. “They’ll be here soon. And I’ll be right by your side.”
You talked to Mary about this as well. She was nice enough to offer Max a place to stay, should your labor start during the day. Which was also a big question mark in your head.
“What if my water breaks during the night? After the curfew starts? What then?”
“Well…” Five looked up from where he was massaging your feet. “I helped deliver Max, so I don’t think we’re in any danger.”
“Yeah, but what if you’re gone by the time this little one decides to come to the world?” you huffed.
“That won’t happen” Five got up and leaned over the armchair to press a kiss to your lips. “Don’t worry, everything will be okay.”
“I hate this” you pouted.
“I know” he smiled gently and then went back to massaging your swollen feet.
On the last day, you start feeling worse. In the morning, you found some weird substance in your underwear, which at first weirded you out, then realized that it was probably related to your pregnancy. Your doctor was on a day off, so you couldn’t go in, but you could go to the payphone at the end of the street and call them.
They told you, after explaining what happened, that that was a good sign. Your labor was finally approaching. It still could be days but it could be only hours. They also told you to call them if any more advancements are made.
The whole day, you barely got anything done. You tried to do something as simple as sweeping the floor, but your back started aching almost instantly. You did manage to make some warm food for dinner, when your two boys showed up.
“Hi mama” Max came home first, but only a couple minutes before Five showed up.
“Hi darling” his smooth voice called from the hallway. “What did the doctor say?”
“To call them when my water breaks” you sighed, rubbing at your lower stomach.
Five hummed and came up to press a kiss to your cheek, then to Max’s, who was sitting beside you, caressing your stomach.
“The baby doesn’t move as much” Max voiced his sorrow.
“They’re sleeping more” you explained. “They’re getting ready to see you.”
“Really?” he looked up at you.
“Really” you smiled gently.
Time ticked by, slowly, even as you wished it would rush. You were in so much discomfort, you really wished that time would pass, so you could just FINALLY-
In that moment, a weird sensation ran through you and you felt a warm sensation run down your legs. Looking down, you saw that your previously dry pants were no longer dry.
Breathing hard and slightly panicked, you yelled out: “Five!”
In just a fraction of a second, Five blinked next to you and grabbed your hand, looking frantic.
“What happened?” he asked, clearly just as panicked as you.
“My… my water just broke!” you told him, still in shock. “What- what do we do?”
“Uh…” Five looked up at the clock. It was 7pm. He could try calling your doctor, but it was unlikely that they would be able to come and it was an hour til curfew. “Shit… I’ll go call the doctor, you… just try to breathe and lie down.”
He quickly made your bed, heaping the pillows, so you would be in a half-sitting, half-lying down position. He helped you lie down and then blinked into Max’s room, where he was reading his favorite book. Soon, Max was knocking on your bedroom door and then peeking his head in.
“Mama?” he asked, looking slightly scared.
“Hey darling” you breathed out, wincing at a sudden pain in your lower stomach.
“Is the baby coming?” he walked up to the bed.
“Yeah, I think they want to” you sighed.
“Does it hurt?”
“Yeah” you nodded, not wanting to lie. “It hurts really badly. But don’t worry, they’ll be here soon and it won’t hurt anymore.”
“Can I help?” he asked, ever the caring little boy.
“You could bring me a glass of water while daddy gets back” you smiled at him as gently as you could.
Max nodded and rushed out to fill a glass with fresh water. He was soon back, giving it to you.
“Thank you darling” you sighed as you took a couple sips.
Five was back within a couple minutes, but not with good news.
“I reached the doctor, but they can’t come” he sighed, frustrated. “He said your delivery could be an hour from now or even 24.”
“Oh God…” you sighed, dropping your head back down. “So I’ll just suffer here?”
“I’m here with you. We’ll get through this” Five took your hand gently in his, then looked back at your son, who was waiting by the bedside table, tears in his eyes. “Max, darling, I think you should go to bed. Mama will be alright” he said gently.
“But I don’t want to leave her. She’s hurt” he sniffled.
“Darling…” Five walked to him, but you interrupted him.
“Let him be here” you told him. “But Max, you have to do what daddy tells you, while you’re here, okay? Once the baby starts coming, mama will be in a lot of pain and you can’t stand in daddy’s way.”
“I promise to be a good boy” he nodded eagerly. “Please, daddy.”
“Fine” Five sighed. “I’ll get some towels.”
Your labor advances quite slowly and every half an hour you get up to walk around with Five’s help. You couldn’t be happier that he was there with you. And Max, he seemed to grow up quite a lot in the hours since your labor started. You of course wished you could spare the young boy from seeing you in pain, but you also didn’t want him to have to be scared in his room as he heard you scream through your delivery.
Which he instead got to experience right by your side. Though Five told him that he didn’t have to take your hand as you couldn’t control how tightly you hold onto it, he did anyway. His eyes were filled with tears, but he didn’t let go of your hand as you delivered the baby, his sibling.
It was quite a shorter process than it was with Max, but somehow more painful. But that all washed away, when Five finally handed them to you.
“It’s a little girl” Five said, tears in his eyes, looking at the crying baby. “I’m so proud of you, darling” he leaned down to kiss your sweaty forehead.
You sobbed as you held your little girl close, so small and fragile. Five disappeared into the bathroom to wash all the blood and other fluids away from his hands and arrived back to seeing Max on the side of the bed, looking down at his sister.
“She’s so tiny” he said quietly.
“Yeah. But you were smaller” you smiled at him.
“Really?” he blinked, his eyes big.
“Yes” Five agreed, grabbing a washcloth and cleaning up the area. “Max, how is your hand?”
The little boy seemed to only just notice his hand, too preoccupied by his sister. He lifted it and showed the red marks on it, that resembled your fingers.
“Oh darling, I’m so sorry” you teared up again. “Mama didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s okay mama” he smiled. “It hurts, but you were hurt more.”
“You’re such a strong kid” Five praised him, kissing his head. “But come on, I’ll get some ice on that for you.”
“But mama…” he started, but then just nodded.
Once things calmed down, Max was sitting on one side of you and Five the other. You looked at your husband.
“What do you think her name should be?”
“I was kind of thinking about flowers…” he hummed.
“What about Penny though?” Max chimed in, looking at his baby sister in your arms.
“Penny? Why Penny?” you asked him gently.
“I don’t know” he shrugged.
“Well, I like Penny” Five agreed with his son. “Not my first idea, but I like the name.”
“I do too” you nodded, smiling down at your sleeping daughter. “Welcome to the world, Penny.”
Days, months, years passed in Temps as your little family grew. Max was now 13 and baby Penny 2. They were the bestest friends, even when Max’s temper got the best of him. He was going into puberty, his hormones working more and more. But the one thing he never did was hurt his baby sister, no matter what. He was gentle with her at all times.
Five was working hard. Not just with the Commission jobs, but with the equations to get you back to 2019, back to his family. He was getting closer and closer to the answer every day, but didn’t know how close.
One day though, when he was waiting to finish his work for that day, he looked through his book again. There it was. The answer. His heart beat fast as he stared at the book. He could finally… they could finally go…
But before he could think more about it, he had to finish the job and get back home as soon as he could. He needed to see Y/n, the kids. So for the next few minutes, with his heart beating fast, he waited with bated breath, keeping his gun trained on where the target would be. It was only minutes, but he felt like hours passed. He never thought time could pass by so slow.
And when the job was finally done, he wasted no time in jumping back to the Commission, passing his briefcase down and blinking into your home.
“Y/n, get the kids, we’re going” he yelled immediately, pulling his book out.
“Going? Where?” you asked from the kitchen, where you were feeding baby Penny.
“Back to my family” he said lowly when he reached the kitchen. “Come on, before they realize what I’m planning.”
“Okay” you breathed out, anxiety coursing through your veins. You put the bowl from your hands and picked her up from the highchair. “Max!” you yelled from your son as you followed Five to the living room.
“Yeah?” he called from his room.
“Come on, put your shoes on. We’re going home.”
“Home? We are…” Max stopped as he realized you didn’t mean this home. You meant the home in another time. Without another word, he put his shoes on, also picking up baby Penny’s shoes and your own as well. “Here you go, mom.”
“Thank you” you smiled thankfully at him, taking Penny’s shoes first.
“Stand by the door. This portal will be big” Five instructed, stepping back as well, his hands curling into fists.
Max took Penny from your hands so you could pull your own shoes up. The living room was suddenly lit in a blue light and you could hear Penny coo at it.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Max asked and gave her back, when you finished tying your shoes.
Suddenly there was a… fire extinguisher? flying through the portal and you only just pulled Max out of the way from it.
“Woah…” Max looked at the objects now rolling on the floor.
“Take my hand” Five suddenly yelled, reaching back for Max. “And take your mother’s.”
Max immediately took yours in his right then Five’s in his left hand. “Dad…” he didn’t, couldn’t say more, but Five looked at him.
“It’s gonna be alright” he said as gently as he could.
With that, you all took a step forward, holding each other’s hands. Going through the portal felt like wading through thick mud, the energy around you almost forcing you back. But your strong hold on each other didn’t let it.
Soon you were falling, your hand letting go of Max’s as you curled your arms around Penny, to protect her from the fall. Five did the same thing with Max and you all landed in a heap.
Groaning, you got off of Five, Penny safe in your arms. Five stood up as well, looking at Max who was…
“Mama?” the word made you turn to… little Max.
“What…” you blinked, looking at your husband, who was…
“Does anyone see little Number Five and other kids, or is that just me?” a guy asked from your right, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Five.
“Five…” you whispered, confused and shocked, bouncing a crying baby Penny in your arms.
“Y/n…” he looked you up and down, then himself as well. “Shit…”
a/n: here's the last part 🫶 I hope you guys truly enjoyed this roller-coaster ride!!! I love you alllllll 💕 see you guys on my next stories, and my requests are always open for your ideas!!
Masterlist
And you were there.
You didn’t cry.
You didn’t run.
You didn’t smile.
You looked at him like the past was something sour on your tongue.
You’d aged. But not in a way that dulled you—no, in a way that sharpened you. Your features were stronger, colder. Your eyes no longer wide with wonder, but worn with caution.
The braid over your shoulder was even longer than before.
You didn’t say his name.
He tried. His lips parted.
But you raised a hand—a soft, gentle, firm command.
“Don’t.”
That single motion struck him harder than any spell.
He froze, the apology dying in his throat.
Because your face is crumpled—not in softness. Not in welcome. But in barely held-together grief. Fury.
And something even worse than hatred.
Disappointment.
You stepped out just enough to shut the door behind you. Just enough to block his view of the hallway inside.
He stared at the closed door behind you like it might crack open and show him a glimpse—a small figure running through the house, messy-haired, clutching a toy Snitch.
But you stood your ground.
You said nothing.
He swallowed. “Please,” he whispered.
You shook your head, eyes wet, but your jaw clenched so tight he saw the muscle twitch.
He stepped forward, helpless.
“Just let me see him.”
Your voice—quiet, hoarse, stronger than any spell—cut through him like glass:
“You don’t get to ask that.”
The silence after was staggering.
He looked at you like a man watching the sun set on the only thing he’d ever loved. He hadn’t let himself imagine this moment going like this—not really. Not fully.
He thought pain would be the worst of it.
He hadn’t realized that you could become someone who didn’t want him to exist in your world at all.
He opened his mouth again, but you turned your face away—just enough that he saw the tears roll down.
“I’m sorry,” he croaked, but it sounded like a lie. Too little. Years too late.
“I begged them,” you whispered, each word a wound. “I begged them to let me tell you. I wrote every week. I dreamed of you coming. I…” Your voice broke. “He cried for a father who never came.”
Harry’s legs nearly gave out.
Your eyes turned back to him, full of fire now.
“But we stopped crying eventually. We stopped waiting.”
You stepped forward, and your words became knives:
“He only knows your name, and that's enough.”
Harry choked on the air. “He’s my son—”
“He’s mine.” you snapped. “He’s mine, Harry. I held him through every fever. I rocked him through every nightmare. I carried him through the snow when he was too tired to walk. I gave up everything just to keep him alive. And you—” you nearly spit it, “—you gave up on me.”
He closed his eyes, tears slipping free.
“I didn’t know—”
“I did,” you said, bitter. “I knew. And I loved you anyway.”
Your shoulders shook. You hadn’t meant to say that last part.
He looked at you like he might fall to his knees again. “Then why—please, let me explain—”
“No,” you whispered, stepping back.
The door behind you opened just slightly.
A voice—soft, small—called out:
“Mum?”
You turned, fast. Blocked the gap.
“Inside,” you said gently.
A shadow moved away.
Harry let out a broken sob at the sound.
You turned back to him, hand trembling as it clutched the doorknob.
“This is not your life anymore,” you said. “You forfeited it the moment you believed I left because I couldn’t handle you.”
You opened the door a crack. Paused.
And then, so quiet it almost wasn’t real:
“Go be a hero somewhere else.”
And the door shut.
He stood there long after the sun set, wind howling around him like the ghosts of what could’ve been.
He didn’t move.
Not even when it began to rain.
Because nothing—not war, not Voldemort, not death—had ever broken him like this.
—
The rain didn’t let up.
It poured for hours, cold and steady, until the hem of his coat was soaked through, until his glasses fogged and blurred with every shaky breath, until his legs could no longer hold him and he sank—knees to mud, hands clenched at his sides—on the path to your door.
He didn’t try to dry himself.
Didn’t conjure shelter.
Didn’t Disapparate away.
Because running had cost him everything.
He wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
---
You watched him from the attic window.
You knew he wouldn’t leave.
Even now—especially now—when he had no right to stay.
And gods, that made it worse.
You hated how your heart clenched. Hated how your hands shook. Hated that you remembered what he looked like the first time he held you like you were something fragile, something cherished, not just a secret lover in the shadows of war.
You remembered the last letter you wrote that was never sent. The one where you said he deserves to know. The one that was returned unopened. Sealed. Branded with the unmistakable wax of the Ministry.
They’d made sure he never got it.
And you hated them.
But you hated him more—for not questioning it. For believing you had walked away. For forgetting how deeply you had loved him.
---
The first time he came, you didn’t let him in.
The second time, you didn’t open the door.
Third, he didn’t even knock. He just sat. On the cold stone path, hands stuffed into the pockets of a weather-worn cloak, knees drawn up, wand untouched beside him, staring out over the low hill and the field beyond it where magic-hardened wildflowers still dared to bloom.
He didn’t bring flowers. He didn’t bring gifts.
Only silence. And a kind of ache you could feel through the walls.
You watched from the window, arms crossed over your chest, a thousand reasons held tight in your bones.
He had no right.
But he came again.
And again.
Sometimes he left food by the gate. Sometimes he just sat there for hours, unmoving.
He never shouted.
Never called your name.
He didn’t try to force his way in.
But he waited.
As if the waiting itself was a prayer. A penance.
And you didn’t let him in—not for weeks. You told yourself it was for your son. That you were shielding him. That seeing Harry would bring more confusion, more pain.
But some nights, your son—your boy who had his eyes and your fire—asked questions.
“Mum… that man with the sad shoulders. He’s always there. Is he lost?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat. “A little.”
“Should we help him?”
You closed your eyes. “I think he’s hoping we will.”
---
The next day, he brought something.
A tiny wooden figure. Roughly carved. Shaped like a Seeker on a broom, leaning forward, arm outstretched toward a tiny golden speck.
He left it on the porch.
Didn’t knock. Didn’t linger.
Just set it down and walked away.
James found it before you did. His eyes lit up like you hadn’t seen in weeks.
“Look, Mum! It’s flying—he charmed it!”
The figure bobbed in the air, chasing the golden speck in a slow, careful arc.
You didn’t take it from him.
But that night, when James was asleep, you held it in your hands for a long time.
And you cried.
---
A week passed.
Then another.
You finally stepped outside again.
That night, long after your son was asleep, you stepped out.
Harry was startled. He hadn’t seen you approach. He sat up, spine rigid, breath fogging in the cold air.
He was there, sitting under the tree near the path. He didn’t startle when you approached. Didn’t speak.
You sat beside him on the bench you once built together with your son.
The silence wasn’t warm.
But it wasn’t cold either.
You spoke first. Low. Measured. Laced with pain.
“Do you remember what you told me that night? at the forest?”
He turned his head slowly. “Which night?”
“The one where you looked me in the eye and said, “I want forever with you”
He blinked.
Then nodded.
Your voice cracked. “I held on to that promise, Harry. Every single night. Through every ache, through every terror. I waited for the life we said we’d have.”
He didn’t speak.
Didn’t dare.
“I wrote. I begged. I thought—I thought you were dead, or trapped, or trying to find me.”
“I was,” he said softly.
“No,” you snapped. “You weren’t. You were convinced I’d run. That I’d abandoned you. You believed them.”
His mouth opened, but the words stuck.
You laughed bitterly. “You could face down Voldemort but not ask one more question about the woman you loved? About why she vanished overnight?”
Harry flinched. “I asked,” he said, anguished. “They told me you left. That you couldn’t bear the pressure. That the everything we had was a lie. I— I was broken too, I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think enough” you cut in. “You stopped at their version. You never looked for mine.”
He turned away, eyes glassy. “I know.”
Silence again.
Wind in the branches. The hush of grief that had no more fury left.
When you finally spoke, your voice was gentler.
“I hated you.”
Harry bowed his head.
You swiped a hand across your wet cheeks. “James was born in the middle of a thunderstorm. Just like this. I was alone. No Healer, no wand ready. I nearly died bringing him into this world.”
He opened his mouth.
“Don’t,” you warned.
“I would have been there—”
“But you weren’t!” you screamed, voice breaking. “You weren’t there. For me. For him. For anything. I wrote letters and burned them. I stood on the edge of the Burrow’s wards, wanting to scream it at the sky. I waited. I waited, Harry.”
Your voice was trembling now. “And I raised him alone.”
“I’m sorry,” he breathed.
“No. You don’t get to be sorry yet.”
He was crying now. Rain and tears are indistinguishable. “Please. Just let me see him.”
Then he whispered, broken: “I’ve never stopped loving you.”
You froze.
Your breath caught in your throat, and for the first time, he saw the tremble in your shoulders.
“I don’t know if that matters anymore,” you said, voice barely audible. “Love didn’t raise our son. Love didn’t keep him warm at night. I did. Alone.”
You turned, hand trembling on the doorknob. “His name is James. Not after your father. I didn’t name him for you. I named him because I dreamed of you saying it.”
Harry let out a noise that wasn’t human. His knees hit the ground.
“I’ll do anything,” he said. “Anything you want. I’ll beg. I’ll wait. Just let me try. Not for me. For him. For James.”
He looked up at that. Pain streaked across his face like a storm.
“But James,” you said, “he deserves more than this. More than pain. More than secrets.”
And you’ll earn his trust, Harry. Brick by brick. You won’t touch him until he asks you to. You won’t tell him who you were until he’s ready to ask. You’ll be patient. You’ll be kind. And you will never, ever leave again.”
Harry nodded slowly. “I want to know him. However you'll let me. Even if it's just as someone who visits. I won’t confuse him. I won't rush. I just... I want to be there.”
You studied him. Long. Hard.
And then said:
“This chance—it's not for you. It's for him. Because I won’t take love away from a child who could grow up stronger because of it.”
His eyes filled.
“I’ll let you try. But if you hurt him, even once, you will never see either of us again.”
Harry stood too, quietly. “I swear I won’t.”
You didn’t turn around.
But when the door clicked closed that night, you leaned your forehead against it—and for the first time in years—you let yourself hope.
---
The next morning, he came with his sleeves rolled up.
No gifts. No grand speeches.
Just a stack of gardening gloves, a basket of seed packets, and a quiet nod when you opened the door halfway.
“He’s in the back,” you said simply, stepping aside. You didn’t invite him in—but you didn’t shut him out either.
Harry’s footsteps were hesitant as he made his way through the side path. The garden had grown wild—beautiful in its chaos, all honeysuckle and broom and stubborn little strawberries that refused to be tamed.
James was there. Kneeling in the soil, a toy wand tucked behind one ear, a determined little line on his forehead as he tried to coax marigolds into blooming without charmwork.
He looked up when Harry’s shadow fell across the earth.
“Hi,” Harry said, kneeling. Not too close. Not imposing. “Need help?”
James blinked at him.
Then: “You can garden?”
“Not really,” Harry admitted. “But I’m good at making things grow the wrong way.”
That made the boy snort. “Like what?”
Harry pulled out a small, burned-looking piece of parchment. “Tried to charm a pumpkin once in third year. Accidentally grew fangs.”
James laughed. “That’s so cool.”
You watched from the kitchen window.
James handed him a pair of gloves. “If you touch the foxglove wrong, it’ll hex you. Mum made them that way.”
“Smart woman,” Harry said, sliding the gloves on.
James beamed. “The smartest.”
And something in your chest shifted.
---
It didn’t happen overnight.
Harry came by every Sunday.
He never crossed boundaries. Never stepped over your threshold without asking. But week after week, he returned.
He started helping with repairs—silently replacing the squeaky hinge on the shed, re-roofing the chicken coop after a summer storm took half the tiles. You watched him with suspicion at first, waiting for the charm to fade, for the effort to dwindle. It never did.
James adored him. Of course he did. Children know love when it’s honest, even if it comes late.
They planted trees.
Built a kite.
Spent an entire afternoon trying to build a fort that collapsed three times before James declared it the "best fort ever."
And every night after he left, Harry would stand by the gate, glance at your window, and wait.
Sometimes you meet his eyes.
Sometimes you don't.
But he always looked. Always waiting. Always left without a word.
---
Two months in, James asked.
“Mum… is he my dad?”
Your hands stilled over the dish basin.
You looked down at the soap bubbles.
Then turned.
“Yes.”
The boy didn’t speak for a long time.
Then, quietly: “Is that why I have his eyes?”
You nodded.
James sat with that. Processing.
Finally, he looked up. “He’s trying really hard.”
“I know.”
“Did he love you?”
Your chest ached.
“Yes,” you said honestly. “But sometimes, love gets lost. Especially in war.”
James looked down at his hands. “But he found us.”
You nodded again, and this time your voice cracked. “Yes. He did.”
---
The next Sunday, James opened the door before you could.
“Hi, Dad.”
Harry froze on the porch.
His breath hitched.
You saw the tears in his eyes before he blinked them away.
“Hi, James,” he said, voice trembling.
James grinned and held up a drawing. “I made this for you.”
It was messy—bright colors and a stick-figure family. Three people. A small garden. A sun with glasses.
Harry stared at it like it was the most precious thing he’d ever been handed.
“Thank you,” he whispered. “I’ll keep it forever.”
You stood in the hallway, heart thudding.
Later that night, after James had gone to bed, Harry lingered by the porch again.
You stepped out into the quiet. The sky was clear.
“I didn’t expect that,” he said, eyes still shining. “I didn’t think he’d call me that.”
“I told him the truth.”
Harry turned to look at you. “Thank you. For that. For letting me… show him who I am.”
You didn’t speak for a moment. Then:
“You haven’t tried to win me back.”
Harry exhaled. “Because that wasn’t my right.”
You tilted your head. “But you wanted to.”
He looked at you now. Properly. The kind of gaze that once stopped your breath. The kind that saw too much.
“I still do,” he said quietly. “But I won’t ask for anything. Not unless you want it too.”
You stepped closer, arms folded. “What would you do if I said I didn’t trust you?”
“I’d keep earning it. Every day. For as long as it takes.”
“And if I never let you in again?”
Harry’s voice didn’t falter. “Then I’ll still be here. Because I’m not leaving my son. And I’ll love you—even from a distance.”
You studied him.
Then asked the one question you’d held in your heart like a wound.
“Why didn’t you look for me harder?”
He broke them.
Stepped back. Hands in his hair.
“I was afraid,” he said hoarsely. “Afraid they were right. That you’d left. That you didn’t love me enough to stay. I had lost so many people, I think I started believing anyone who disappeared just… chose not to come back.”
You swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry I gave up on you,” he whispered.
And in that moment, your anger cracked.
Not crumbled. Not vanished.
But it cracked.
Because you’d never heard him sound that young. That wound. That sorry.
You reached out. Just enough to place your hand on his wrist.
His eyes snapped to yours.
“I don’t forgive you,” you said softly. “Not yet.”
“I know.”
“But I’m not angry tonight.”
He nodded, breath trembling.
And before you could change your mind, you leaned forward—resting your forehead against his.
Just for a moment.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t dare.
And when you pulled back, his eyes were full of hope.
But he didn’t reach for you.
Didn’t ruin it.
He just smiled, heartbroken and awed.
“I’ll see you next Sunday?”
You nodded.
And watched him go, that rough little drawing tucked under his arm like a treasure.
---
It took another year.
Before the first time you let him stay for dinner.
Before the first time you laughed again in his presence. Before you let him touch your hand. Before James started asking when Dad would come next, not if.
Before the nightmares stopped. Before the guilt softened.
Before love crept back in.
But it did.
And when you finally kissed him again—on a quiet morning while James ran ahead through the garden path—Harry didn’t rush. Didn’t gasp. Didn’t fall apart.
He just kissed you like a man who remembered what it was to come home.
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There have been over 780 F1 drivers. Only one has been a man who looks like me and he is better than every single other driver. And he does this all while facing the worst shit thrown at him by that organisation as well as those other drivers EVERY SINGLE DAY.
Never fix your mind to ever compare your fuckass drivers to Sir Lewis Hamilton, he doesn’t need any more disrespect from y’all than he already gets.
Why are people acting like everyone is calling racism over the single penalty this week like Lewis hasn’t fought racial bias in the FIA his entire career
no sane person would look at themselves in the mirror after watching this race and say there’s no racial bias in f1 when it comes to applying rules and penalties. this is just one of the many times the absolute disgust this sport carries for lewis shows itself. if you still don’t believe the entire sport was against him getting his 8th title back in 2021 and i mean the ENTIRE sport, you are blind and/or stupid. yes. even his own team back then. literally everyone did their part to make sure he wouldn’t get it and he defied all odds to the point they had to resort to outright cheating just to stop him. because for fuck's sake they would die if they ever let a black man be the undisputable GOAT. I HATE THIS SPORT DOWN TO ITS VERY CORE.
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