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#cargo shirt kids
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skyhamilton · 3 months
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sleezydonny · 3 months
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As children embark on their daily escapades, clad in durable and functional attire, the essence of empowerment resonates deeply. Kids workwear, comprising a versatile array of garments such as cargo shorts, boys work shorts, and sturdy jackets, embodies more than mere fabric and stitches; it embodies a spirit of readiness and resilience.
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notimeforlaugh · 5 months
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once I promised phil as a tourist dad
here he is
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carrot-felisidad · 2 months
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I read somewhere that The Gusu Lan's simplicity in terms of fashion sense is often overlooked, as it reflects their discipline and resolve towards cultivation. But then I also noticed that YunmengJiang's flashy purples are often overlooked, too. Like, my man Jiang Cheng is the most well-dressed man out there, and Jiang Yanli was always Aesthetic Goals TM. Wei Wuxian may be in his simple blacks and reds, but compared to other sect robes, I find his robes elegant and fashionable.
Although in terms of flashiness, Lanling Jin clan may be the winner, but I find their robes tasteless, with their brand logo in front, like rich people who wear bad fashion as long as the prints louis vuitton or chanel are visible.
But Yunmeng Jiang? *Chef's Kiss* All adaptations understood the assignment that this is the kind of family that supports all the local tailor shops. Each sibling has their own shop because one shop cannot accommodate their NEEEEEED for fashion robes. Meanwhile, Lan Wangji has been wearing the same robes since he was 18. He probably only has two sets that he washes everyday. Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng:
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skapunkpee · 7 months
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slightly older yotsuba
digital version coming in the near future maybe
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wizardnuke · 1 year
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who's the middle guy if not caleb. and the middle guy being caleb is the funniest thing possible. man's got his work uniform on
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bat-anon · 1 year
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I think it’s important to remember that Mighty Ducks takes place in 1996, meaning that our fankids should all be wearing weird 2000s/2010s clothing styles.
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boycigs · 4 months
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pink n brown ultimate combo
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charliemwrites · 2 months
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There are men across the street.
The house (and you use the term generously) that slumps there has been vacant for some time now. Ever since you moved in a couple years ago, actually. It’s an eyesore for sure. Graffiti on the walls, boards on the windows, a basketball-sized hole in the roof. The porch is the worst of it. Sagging in the middle and crumbling on the ends, stripped and moss-encrusted wood.
But today there are men there, stomping up and down the groaning steps in big, steel-toed boots.
You watch for a bit from the safety of your kitchen window, sipping coffee and batting your cat off the counter. They don’t look like a normal construction crew - wearing all black and not so much as a hammer on their belts. Three of them that you can see, one about average height, one tall, and one very tall. The tall one tags after the shortest of them often, gets pushed and shoved and snapped at it seems like.
You lose interest when the coffee runs out and your phone chimes, shooing you off to the grocery store. All three have disappeared inside by the time you saunter out, keys jingling and reusable bags in hand.
Margot says they’re renovating - likely some rich man’s retirement project. The same thing happened just down the street six months before you moved in, and now Joe has solar panels.
She postulates over the situation across the street while taking delicate bites of the cheesecake she brought over. (A test recipe for her niece’s baby shower in a few weeks. You don’t tell her that it’s too sweet and just sip your tea between bites.) She hypothesizes that one of them is this hypothetical rich man’s son, bringing some handy friends around for extra hands to work.
It sounds about as plausible as Agatha’s mutterings that they’re drug lords, so you nod along and watch your calico sneak up on your tuxedo behind her.
The garden is your own little retirement project. (You’re not actually retired, no matter what your sister snipes. But some smart money moves and a successful writing career is virtually the same with no kids and no spouse.) It’s going about as well as the renovations across the street - which is say, better and quicker than expected.
You planted clover in the yard, and are working on wildflowers in the boxes. The clover is already blooming, little flower tufts springing up for bumblebees to perch on. The wildflowers are mixed success so far, but nothing is dead yet.
You mostly just tootle around to be outside - allotted sunshine lest you become the shut in Bertram accused you of your first couple months.
The cats watch you pick at weeds from the window. Or two of them do. The other one is glaring from the fridge, angry that you tossed her back inside when she tried to slip past your ankles. (With any luck, you’ll have another sibling for them soon, but the handsome orange thing that keeps coming by at dawn and dusk is too stupid to be caught.) All three of them shift to look at something over your shoulder.
“Excuse.”
You don’t startle, thankfully. The voice may be unfamiliar, but neighbors stop by consistently enough that you’re not surprised to have your solitude interrupted.
What you are surprised by is the tall (very, very tall) man standing at the edge of your front yard. One of the renovators.
“Hi,” you say, straightening.
He points a gloved finger at you - no, not at you. Past you. At your cats.
“May I see them?” He asks in a thick German accent.
You blink, surprised and confused.
He’s a big man. Not just unusually tall, but broad as well. Muscle tugs at the fabric of his shirt, cargo pants clinging to his thighs. He also hasn’t bothered to take off the heavy duty dust mask, black sunglasses, or jacket hood obscuring his features. Looks like he’s about to rob you, honestly.
But Agatha’s uncharitable muttering about delinquent men rings like a warning toll. You’re at risk of sinking into the judgmental sea of upper-middle class suburbia, and that’s not water you want to tread.
“Sure!” You reply, ignoring his lack of introduction. “One sec.”
The cats see you dart from view and hurry to meet you at the door, meowing and yowling. You crack it open only wide enough to snatch up your precious firstborn, his leggies sticking out in abject bafflement at being airborne. You make guilty eye contact with your other two fiends before swiftly wedging the door shut again.
Then adjust your son, his little paws resting on your shoulder as you turn. Your visitor is standing right where you left him, perks up when he sees the cat bundled in your arms.
“This is Guy.”
You step closer, ignoring that shred of nervousness that being close to any man (especially one so physically intimidating) brings. To his credit, he only shuffles just enough to offer his hand for inspection.
“Guy?” he asks.
“I wasn’t going to adopt him at first, so I just called him Little Guy for so long that he thought that was his name. And then I did adopt him and now he won’t answer to anything else.”
You come by the rambling honestly - an obligate introvert until you moved to this neighborhood. There are few things you ever want to talk about with strangers, but your cats are one of them.
“He is a little guy,” the man muses.
Guy has no reservations about rubbing his fat face on the stranger’s glove, a purr kicking up in his chest. You relax as the man keeps his touch gentle and slow, that little bit of paranoid tension trickling into the soil beneath your feet.
“The other two aren’t as well behaved, I don’t trust them without harnesses on,” you add, nodding at the window.
The man glances up at them. Doesn’t seem to realize that his demise (and yours) is imminent from their glares.
“What are their names?”
You flush. “Rasputin and Shithead. I tell everyone else her name is Susan though.”
A sharp bark of laughter splits the air like a falling ax, cracks right down the middle. It makes you jump a bit - Guy is expectedly unbothered - but still you find yourself gratified. Laughing is good, it means you’re doing things right.
“Sorry,” he says, “but my friend would like that name.”
You gesture at the house across the street. “One of them?”
“Yes, the short one.”
You only just manage not to snort in amusement, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing. The mask moves, you think he might be grinning underneath.
“Does he know you call him that?”
“Not if you don’t tell him.”
You doubt you’ll have the opportunity even if you wanted to.
Someone’s at the door.
You’re only half-dressed, waist deep in laundry you have no excuse for putting off so long. Aren’t expecting company either - it’s Sunday morning, everyone should be at their various churches or visiting relatives. Can’t remember the last time someone knocked before noon on a Sunday.
Still, it was a big solid knock. The kind that makes you think it’s not the usual neighbor come by to impose on your space.
You glance down at the hem of your sweatshirt, determine it’s far enough down your thighs to be acceptable, and pad to the door.
You open it to another of the renovators. The “short” one - though you readjust that measurement quickly. He’s still taller than you, it’s just that most anyone seems diminutive compared to his friend.
“Morning,” you chime.
“We need your driveway.” His voice is low and rough, blunt. A sledgehammer to concrete. Also German-accented, you note.
“Oh,” you reply, “what for?”
He grunts. “Work.”
And you, a longtime observer of politely shaking people down for information by this point, smile without teeth.
“Oh, a work truck? It won’t make a mess will it?”
“No.”
You hum, glance at your stupid little sedan parked in the middle of the driveway.
“Okay, I’ll move — Shithead!”
You scramble to grab at the black and white blur of evil, sweeping her up in your arms as she meows in complaint. One of her back feet catches in the hem of your sweatshirt and starts to pull it up as she kicks. You curl an arm under her butt for support, but mostly she just takes the opportunity to chomp down on the meat of your thumb.
You glance at the man. “Shithead is very interested in the renovations.”
He stares. “So that is actually its name. I thought you were being rude and Konig didn’t realize.”
Ah, so that’s his name. You never did get that introduction.
“No, yeah, this is Shithead, I’m sure you can see why.”
The corner of his mouth twitches as she unlatches from your thumb, only to bite down on your wrist.
“So! The truck - when will it be here?”
“Noon.”
“Great! See you around!” You shut the door in his face without getting a name.
You threaten, not for the first time, to turn her into a pair of mittens. She responds by attacking your foot until Rasputin tackles her. Guy cries at the door, probably missing a man he met for all of two minutes.
The work truck stays through the night. Your cats spend all afternoon watching the men cross the street and back. Every once in a while, Guy puts his little feet up on the glass - Konig must be passing by.
You glance out the kitchen window only once and make hard eye contact with the third of their trio. He’s somehow even more covered up than Konig, and yet you get the distinct impression that your gaze is not welcome.
You blink and abandon the dishes for later.
The next morning, they’re already at it when you shuffle outside for the mail. Konig raises a slow hand in greeting, but visibly brightens when you smile sleepily and wave back.
You pass the work truck - the back panel is already open for them to unload wood beams and heavy-looking buckets. Construction stuff, as expected - and not messy, as promised.
You spot a red and white flag decal on the rear window. Austria, isn’t it?
“Did you just wake up?” a flat voice asks.
You squint a little through the morning sun at the man from the day before. The rude one.
You yawn. “Mhmm.”
He frowns at you, disapproval plain. Agatha will like him, you muse, shoving a hand in your mailbox. They both seem to have strong opinions about your sleep schedule.
“It is late.”
“It’s only 8.” You tug out a sheaf of envelopes and begin idly flipping through them.
“The sun is up.”
“So what?”
He clicks his tongue disdainfully. You absently click back. Then jump as a big body lands right in front of you. The third man, two wooden beams balanced on his shoulder. He makes brief eye contact with you again, then strides across the street.
“Shoo,” the rude one says. “Men at work, yes?”
You grumble. “See if I bring you cookies.”
Konig glances up from the truck bed, eyes shining. “Cookies?”
Well shit.
Rasputin keeps you company while you cook. He’s the only one allowed on the counter for any length of time. Shithead steals anything and everything, or bats at your hands while you work. Guy has the equal parts endearing and infuriating habit of touching everything with his paws.
Rasputin is the only one who will sit quietly to observe, leaning in for the occasional kiss. Today, he’s watching you bake cookies and assemble sandwiches. A dual-purpose welcome and peace offering to the three men across the street.
Is it too much? Maybe. But you’ve got nothing better to do and kindness won’t break your bank, so. Cookies and sandwiches.
You change clothes while the cookies cool on the pan - a sundress for the warm, late-spring weather. They’ve seen you in your pajamas far too much already.
At the door, you hesitate. This house doesn’t feel inhabited yet, but it also doesn’t feel right to just open the door. It’s quiet inside, so no power tools to drown you out. Making a face, you settle for a firm knock. It takes a minute or two - you think you might hear distant shouting. Then the door swings in fast and hard, nearly startling you.
It’s the third of their trio, the one you’ve yet to speak to. He’s covered head to toe, fabric around his head and face, leaving only sharp blue eyes to glare out.
“Hi,” you begin, hands thankfully too full to fidget. “I brought food.”
His eyes flick to the foil-covered platter in your hands. Then he swings the door wide and pivots on his heel.
“The cat comes too.”
Cat?
You glance down. Sure enough, Rasputin is standing by your legs, his remaining half a tail swishing. You sputter at him - didn’t even realize he snuck out - but all you get is his characteristic raspy “mah” noise. Right then.
He politely trots by your side as you enter, not even shy about your curiosity. The place is gutted, stripped walls and scuffed floors. It smells like dust and plaster and shaved wood. All the lights have been ripped out of the ceiling, exposing wires like nerve-endings.
There are two empty rooms to either side upon entry, a den and a dining room probably. The den even seems to be split into two, with one half sunk lower, accessible by a couple steps.
You follow your unexpected host through the “dining room,” which seems to be more of a satellite staging zone at the moment. There are piles of tools, stacks of materials, a little island of canvas bags. As you pass through, you notice a staircase, and even from the ground floor, you can see that it crosses over to the den on the other side.
The kitchen is stationed towards the back of the house. You try not to wince at the state of the counters. Pockmarked, blistered, scratched, burned, cracked laminate.
The floor has already been pried up to reveal smooth concrete. You scan it quickly for anything that could hurt Rasputin’s feet before entering.
Your neighbor gestures for you to set the platter down on an empty patch of counter, so you do, peeling back the foil.
“Cookies and sandwiches,” you explain just to have something to say.
“Why?” he asks.
You shrug. “To be nice.”
He stares. You blink back.
“I mean, you don’t have to eat them,” you add. “It would just be a waste.”
Rasputin chooses that moment to leap onto the counter, taking a moment to steady himself once he’s landed. With only one eye and a crooked leg, he’s not the most acrobatic or graceful of your babies, but he makes do.
To your shock, though, once he’s gained his bearings, he makes like he’s going to eat one of the sandwiches.
“Ras,” you gasp, surprised. “Absolutely not!”
The little shit doesn’t even resist when you nudge him away, just settles on his haunches, staring at your neighbor. And, to your confusion, your neighbor grunts.
“Konig! Krueger!” he barks.
That must be the rude one’s name. Krueger. You file that tidbit away.
“What’s your name?” You ask. “No one’s told me.”
He eyes you - dare you say suspiciously - letting the silence stretch.
“Nikto,” he rasps finally.
You finish introducing yourself just as the other two enter. Konig’s down to just the dust mask today, while Krueger seems to have donned one for himself.
“You,” Krueger says.
You arch your eyebrows back. “Me.”
“What brings you here?” Konig interjects, much friendlier.
“Well, you really seemed to want cookies yesterday, so I thought I’d bring some with lunch as a welcome to the neighborhood.”
He practically shoves Krueger to get to the kitchen. You politely get out of the way so he can indulge in your offering without getting trampled.
“Danke schön,” he says, scooping up a sandwich.
“No problem,” you answer, smiling.
Krueger deigns to sidle closer, inspecting the platter with a keen eye. Still, you think you see a bit of appreciation in them before he snatches up one of the sandwiches. For some (concerning) reason, you’re gratified by that. (You’ll just blame it on your habit of feeding ferals and strays.)
“I also wanted to give you three a little warning…” Three pairs of eyes pin you in place. You try not to grimace. “Everyone on this block is nosy as hell. They will literally peak in your yard and check your mail.”
“The mail?” Konig asks, appalled.
“Yeah, I started using a PO Box,” you sigh. You’ve only got so much sanity before you start taking sniper shots with a water gun.
“We will handle it,” Krueger says.
“I’m sure,” you demure. “Anyway, that was all. You can drop the platter off later - or I can come get it. It’s not like you’re far.”
You start looking for Rasputin, only to find him perched on Nikto’s broad shoulder. The man doesn’t even seem bothered by the claws digging through his shirt, scratching a finger at the calico’s cheek.
“Huh,” you say, surprised.
Nikto glances at you, pauses. “What?”
You snort at the bluntness, but grin. “Usually I’m the only one allowed to pet him.”
That’s three for three. Well, two and a half. Shithead could have been trying or escape or go for the ankles for all you know. But Krueger seemed to like her, so that counts for something.
“C’mon my little tank, let’s go,” you coo, approaching.
Rasputin nuzzles his face against Nikto’s once, gives him a parting mraw, then leaps into your waiting arms.
“Bye, guys!” You call, waving over your shoulder as you head for the door.
Konig is the only one to respond with a polite, “see you!” But you don’t take it to heart.
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too-deviant · 3 months
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mdni 🃏
luke castellan who never lets second in command!reader out of his sight. and if he does, he always knows where you are, what you’re doing, who you’re with. when the som trio first infiltrate the princess andromeda and barely escape with their lives, luke is on a warpath straight back to his cushy suite. he whistles sharply and you (who had been reaming out some dracanae for letting the kids get away) are quick to follow.
standing at his side as he addresses his army, you are all-glaring, deep frowns and snarls. arms crossed, spear at your side, violent energy pooling at your feet. it’s why luke chose you.
but when he pulls you into the room and locks the door behind you, your fingers shake in anticipation and you glance up at him through your lashes, the most painfully beautiful look of longing shining up at him. he groans into his fist and sits on the edge of the mattress, his other hand gesturing for you to start the show.
it always starts slow — the peeling of your shirt from your skin, the dropping of your cargos. but then he can’t hold it in anymore, and he’s grabbing you by the hips and pulling you onto his lap, taking your mouth in his. his hands, rough and callused, travel along the planes of your bare skin. skin that hasn’t bore witness to the horrors you inflict — your back, your thighs, your sternum.
he flips you onto your back, and you wrap your legs around his hips (he liked to keep his clothes on whenever he took you. it reminded him who was the boss of who whenever your pussy made him forget) and he trails kisses from your ankles to that sweet sweet spot — his fingers working more gently than they ever would when wrapped around the hilt of his sword, or even the base of his cock.
he devours you like it’s his last meal, and then politely waits for you to come down from your orgasm before burying himself balls deep between those supple thighs of yours.
(he would never admit it, but his favourite part was watching you pant underneath him after a star-seeing climax. watching your legs tremble slightly, staring intently at the pink blush on your cunt as you sucked in puffs of air impatiently. he would tut and tell you to take your time, “i’ll wait as long as it takes.”)
and as soon as you give him the nod, all pleasantries fly out the window. he is grunting into your neck, hands wrapped roughly around your legs and hips, indenting you where nobody would see but him.
one time you got cheeky, reached down and squeezed his ass. he sat up on his haunches, pulled you into this lustrous position on his lap and didn’t pay your squeals any mind as he committed his sultry revenge.
when you were done, he’d lean back to inspect his work. palm himself after tucking his cock away, fighting the urge to get hard again just from watching you come down from the excursion. his lips would part as you redressed yourself, eyes searing into your skin.
and when you were ready, as always, he’d open the door and wave you through, slapping your ass as you passed him.
“good job.”
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viennakarma · 5 months
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In my life (I love you more)
Part 2 of Say Something (Alternate ending)
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Summary: Navigating pregnancy is an adventure on its own, but doing it with your recently divorced ex-husband is on a whole new level. But maybe it's the perfect opportunity to find your kinship once again.
Word count: 8.3k
Tags: Female reader, established relationship, ex-wife reader, reader is an architect, cheating, smut, pregnancy symptoms, pregnancy sex, fingering and oral sex, lactation kink (briefly), chilbirth (not descriptive), lots of fluff, open ending, happy ending, not beta read
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton x Reader
Notes: Again, sorry if it's rushed or something, I was just going with the flow. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
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It’s different getting settled on your new, divorced life, and with a baby on the way. You kept trying to establish a new routine in your new place, while going over and over on what to do in your head.
You knew you were keeping the baby, because that’s something you always wanted. And for a few weeks, you weren’t sure if you would tell Lewis.
Then, you started thinking about going through the pregnancy alone, which you knew you couldn’t do. Then you thought if, god forbid, something happened to you during childbirth, if you died, who would take care of your child? What would happen to your baby? But also, you got lost in thoughts about the future, about the kid not having a father growing up, about your kid finding out you had hidden them from their father. You wasted only a couple of weeks until you made up your mind.
You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night keeping something like this from your ex-husband.
That’s how you were a little over twelve weeks when you finally sent Lewis an email. You could’ve called or texted him, but you were only willing to talk in person.
I’m not sure if you’re interested in hearing anything from me now, but I urge you to come meet me this Saturday at 11 am. I have some important things to talk about with you.
Attached, you sent him the address of your new home. It was a complete shot in the dark, adding the fact that he never replied to your email, you were unsure if he was gonna show up.
Hugging yourself inside your winter coat, you wondered if you did right by inviting him to your home. But then again, you didn’t want to have this conversation in public and risk Lewis being recognised.
You made tea and were waiting outside on the porch when he finally showed up, right on time.
God, he was easily the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, still. He was dressed in a dark blue coat, and simple cargo pants. He stopped when he saw you, visibly emotional.
“Hi, lo- Y/N” he almost slipped up.
“Hi, Lewis. I’m glad you came,” you whispered with a small smile.
You were just as stunning as the day Lewis saw you for the first time, beautiful skin, sweet smile and the kindest eyes.
“What happened? Do you need help?” He asked, and you just shook your head, with a small smile, and he added “you look so content. So different from the last time I saw you.”
“I am, Lewis. Still adapting but I really am,” you gestured for the house, you started walking, “come on in. It’s cold outside.”
You two entered, and removed your shoes by the door, getting comfortable.
“I need to tell you something, Lewis.”
“Is it about the divorce? You know I would come back to you whenever, you just need to say the word and I ca-”
As he started rambling, you just removed your coat, showing your little baby bump, now starting to show. Lewis stopped talking abruptly. He was shocked, jaw slack as he stared from your face to your belly a couple of times.
“I’m dreaming,” he turned around, slapping his own cheek as if to wake up.
“I’m pregnant, Lewis.”
Lewis turned around again, taking in your figure. You were wearing those elegant pajama sets you’d always wear whenever you wanted to feel comfortable at home, but the shirt was hugging your figure tightly, specifically around your middle, displaying the baby bump.
He felt a lump on his throat. He had dreamt of this throughout your relationship, but even more after he lost you. Lewis would dream of you and your family almost everyday, waking up crying over what his mistake cost him.
But now, now you were right in front of him, pregnant with his kid.
You mistook his silence for confusion, so with a heavy heart, you said:
“The baby is yours, but I don’t mind if you want to take a paternity test. I know it’s been a few months with no contact, so I understand if you have doubts ab-”
“No, no! I believe you- I do!” He interrupted your turn to ramble, “I guess I’m just a little bit shocked.”
There’s a brief, awkward silence as you two stood there. Lewis was staring at you so intently, so in awe that it made you squirm, so you walked further inside, going to the kitchen to leave your cup of tea, now empty by the sink. Lewis still walked after you, still looking at you like you had hung the moon or something.
“You’re stunning, Y/N. Just how I imagined you would be when pregnant.” He whispered. You felt yourself blush with the open compliment.
“Thank you, the morning sickness is dying down now, so I’m feeling much better these past few days.” You told him.
Someone rang the doorbell, and you went to check followed by Lewis. You opened the door to your new neighbor from down the road. He greeted you quickly, and handed you a small box full of cherry-tomatoes.
“Oh, thank you so much, James! You’re a lifesaver!” You waved at him, as he got in his car and drove away.
Happily skipping back to the kitchen, you washed and put the cherry-tomatoes on a plate, seasoning it with a little bit of salt and pepper. You ate the cherry-tomatoes raw, only after the second bite, noticing Lewis was still there, even more confused.
“Who’s that guy?” Lewis pointed to the door. He didn’t like the idea of other men coming to visit you. Especially that James guy who looked at you as if you were the most beautiful goddess to grace the earth. Well, you were the most beautiful goddess, but still, only Lewis looked at you like that.
“He’s my neighbor down the road, a couple of kilometers down. Him and his mom have a small plantation of fruits and vegetables. I told her I was craving cherry-tomatoes and she kindly sent them to me,” you said, taking another bite right after, “this is the best I’ve ever had. So fresh!” You exclaimed, eating a couple more.
Lewis looked at you, giddy with your little cherry-tomatoes, and he felt something in his chest expand. He smiled at you, looking so happy and healthy. The last two images he had of you were, you miserable around the house in Monaco, and the other was of you making love with him so passionately but so sad. The last time he touched you intimately, and lovingly, it was painfully obvious it was a goodbye to you, but to him it had been a chance, he had let himself be blinded by hope.
He had so many questions about the pregnancy, about how you had been feeling and what you wanted to do that he couldn’t help but feel a little overwhelmed. Still, he took a deep breath and just said:
“Have you been having lots of weird cravings?” He asked, staring at you, still munching on the cherry-tomatoes.
“I’ve been craving fruits a lot this past week, the other day I wanted green mango with salt, but it’s so hard to find tropical fruits around here!”
Lewis grabbed his phone and texted Kevin, one of his assistants, telling him to find fresh mangoes anywhere as fast as possible.
“How are you? How are you feeling?” He put the phone away, eyes focused on yours.
“In regards to health, me and Peanut are completely fine. I’ve been really sleepy, taking naps all the time…”
“Peanut?” He smiled, eyes shining to the little nickname.
“So, the first craving I had was so bad I spent three days eating anything with peanuts. People have some really creative recipes on the internet.” Your words made Lewis laugh out loud, that one giggle that you had not heard in months. One laugh that used to make you so happy, “but really, we're fine. I’ve had some doctor visits now.”
“That’s good. I told my family about our divorce. Mum tore me a new one.” He gave an awkward smile.
“I know, she called me to apologize.” You let him know. You were still in touch with his mom, not having the heart to cut her off.
“Hey,” Lewis leaned in, his expression serious again, “I know I failed you in our marriage. But I won’t fail you in this pregnancy, ok? I want to be there every step of the way, if you allow me to.”
“I know, Lewis. I never doubted you would,” you sighed, pushing the plate away. You always knew Lewis would want to be there for you and his kid, “I just- I’m sorry it took me a while to reach you. I was confused and overwhelmed, heartbroken, everything at once, and I had to comprehend what I wanted to do. In the end, I couldn’t allow my baby to grow up without a father, and I know you will be a loving one.”
“Thank you, I hurt you so deeply, just- Thank you for letting me know about Peanut.”
“I know it will be difficult to get over our problems and the divorce, but I was hoping we could co-parent, as friends,” you told him.
“Whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I’m aware that's not how we planned things to go…” your eyes were wet with unshed tears, sometimes you still mourned the future you had with Lewis before, “... But we can do it, right?”
“We can do it. Peanut will be so happy.”
He was so sure, so confident, that it gave you a weird sense of security, knowing he will be there no matter what, knowing Peanut would have a loving father. It was a huge weight lifted from your shoulders, and now you could just focus on trying to go through a safe pregnancy.
“Tell me about your routine, how are you adapting here?” Lewis stood up, looking around.
You told him how you had reduced your work hours, to only work during the mornings, usually finishing up around noon, then you had lunch, then if you had any errands to run, you’d go to the city, then prenatal yoga class, and doing your hobbies the rest of the day.
While you were explaining your routine, you went to the pantry and got cat food out, your new companion showing up, meowing.
“You got a kitten.” Lewis pointed out.
“That’s Olive. I’ve always wanted one,” you said as if he didn’t know it, your fingers scratching behind her ears. Your voice didn’t have any malice, but Lewis’ own blame made your words feel like a jab.
“I know.”
Lewis stared at the fluffy gray cat. You had always talked about how growing up you had a cat that passed away when you were around fifteen. You had mentioned adopting a new one a lot after you got married, and still, Lewis never felt inclined to support the idea, he thought you two already had Roscoe, who you had to leave with a caretaker most of the time. He just thought you two wouldn’t have the time for another pet. It made something inside him burn with shame seeing that now that you were divorced, you finally got the little pet you always wanted.
You kept talking, telling Lewis how your parents are constantly traveling here to keep you company on weekends, and how you had been changing a few furniture, because you bought the house already furnished, but you wanted it to feel more like you, including a flowerbed by your porch. How you met a couple of neighbors, and how you had been exploring Edinburgh’s museums and galleries at least once a week.
It hurt him hearing about how you were moving on, meeting people and places, buying things and making plans when he was still stuck in the past. He was still wishing every morning he would wake up in your arms again, how he would share one big cup of coffee with you in the mornings, how he used to hold you in silence for a good 20 minutes after you woke up because you don’t like talking as soon as you wake up. How you would peck his lips every time he had to pack a bag to leave. How he would kiss your ring finger every time before he hopped in the car for a race.
Now he would walk past your office, and your work supplies weren’t there anymore, and the furniture didn’t have charcoal stains anymore, and the house didn’t smell like your tea and the bedsheets didn’t smell like your strawberry body scrub and shower gel thing.
Lewis spent the day with you, chatting like you were just two friends catching up. There was still a lot of baggage none of you wanted to touch just yet, so you just brushed past any awkward silence, and distant, cold chatter. It took a couple of hours to feel fully comfortable with each other. You had seen Lewis as the love of your life for so long it was mind boggling now having to put him in a “friend” category.
He left by the end of the afternoon, after leaving dinner ready for you.
“Will you unblock me?” He asked, getting ready to leave. You laughed but nodded, “You can text me anything. If you need something, anything really, call me or text me, yes?”
“Will do, Lewis. I’ll text any pregnancy updates too,” you walked him to the door, “Oh, wait! I forgot something.”
You went back inside scrambling into your purse for the sonogram image you had gotten the last doctor visit. You went back and handed it to Lewis. His eyes shone with tears as he understood what it was. He ran his thumb through the picture, tears falling down his cheeks. 
“Oh, wow. That’s my baby.”
You noticed how Lewis was still wearing his wedding band, and your chest constricted a bit. You knew more than anyone that it would take some getting used to remove the ring as you were still getting used to not wearing yours, but you had forced yourself to leave it behind. You wondered if Lewis had gotten rid of it after the divorce was finalized.
“Can I- Can I tell my family about the baby?” He asked you, wiping his tears with the back of his hand.
“Yes. Tell Carmen to call me after you tell her.” You smiled softly at him.
He stared from the picture to your belly, your small bump.
“Wanna touch?” You offered, and he smiled.
“Only if you’re ok with it,” he muttered. You nodded, raising your shirt up.
You pulled his wrist, placing his palm against your stomach. His hand was warm, calloused as you were used to feeling them on your body. His thumb moved up and down, caressing your bump and raising goosebumps in your skin. It took him a full minute to let go, like it was physically painful to leave.
“Take care, yeah?” He told you, walking away.
“You too.”
You went back inside after locking the house, the sun was already setting as you sat down to eat the dinner Lewis prepared. He had promised you to come back in a couple of days after his work commitments.
The next morning, you were working when the doorbell rang, and it was a delivery guy. He handed you a box and left. You opened it on the kitchen counter, and it was full of fresh mangoes and a small note.
“Anything you need. -L”
Lewis came back three days later, letting you know when he was at the airport. You knew he had told his family, since Carmen had called you and you spent a good hour talking to her on the phone the night before. You heard a noise outside and you went to your porch to see Lewis arriving in a pick-up truck. 
You walked up to Lewis with a small smile. He closed his fists, physically restraining himself as to not hold your pretty face and kiss you silly.
“Hi,” you said and your voice was sweet.
“Hi, beautiful mama,” he whispered, which made you blush. You eye the back of the truck.
“What is that?”
“I bought some stuff,” he patted one of the boxes, “this is an ergonomic chair, appropriate for pregnant women, I thought it would be useful since you’ll still be working for a while. And they had it in your favorite color too!”
“Lewis.”
“I also bought a few books on pregnancy, maternity and paternity. Already sent a few copies to my place too. There’s a bunch of baby clothes over there, a few are gifts from my family but most of them I just bought because I thought they were pretty cute.” He pointed to the other boxes.
“Lewis, it’s too much!” You wanted to reprimand him, but it was also sweet how dedicated he was being.
“Nothing is too much for Peanut and Mama,” he dismissed you, “and I didn’t even buy a lot of stuff because I thought we should do it together.”
He carried the boxes inside, while you got started on the meal for lunch.
“Why is this ladder here?” Lewis pointed to the folded ladder in the hallway.
“Oh, I was going to change the light!” You told him.
“Are you crazy, woman?! You can be doing all that while pregnant!” His voice echoed from the hallway.
“I’m pregnant, not ill!” You screamed back, and he laughed out loud.
There was only silence for a few minutes, so you checked the hallway to see Lewis changing the lights. As he came down the ladder, he put both hands on his waist.
“Anything else needs fixing?”
“You wouldn’t happen to know how to fix the door handle, would you?”
“Please, how would you doubt me?”
After Lewis fixed the bathroom door handle, he came back out and started helping you with the food. You ate while Lewis told you about his family’s reaction to the news. He guaranteed everyone was happy, but they were refraining to call and text you so as to not overwhelm you.
While you were on the phone with your mom, Lewis decided to unbox the new chair and take it to your new office. He looked around, seeing how this office was smaller than the one at home, but cozier. You had a big window with lots of natural light bathing the room. Whenever you were working on your projects on paper and charcoal, you liked using natural light to draw. There were a couple of scented candles around too. 
He took a little while to fully assemble the new chair, but as he came back down, you were taking a nap on the couch. He grabbed the blanket and covered you, and went back to put the dishes away. It was different, he hadn’t been so domestic in so long, and certainly not when you were married. Now he was just happy to be of service, to help you around just like things had never changed. He noticed you had put a panel on the kitchen, just like in the project for your family home, and your planner was there. It showed you had a doctor visit by the end of the week and pregnancy yoga twice a week in the afternoons, it also had your next museum visit marked for after the doctor. He took a picture of your planner, to align his to yours.
“Y/N, hey,” he woke you up softly, confused, you stared at him, “you have yoga class in like an hour, will you go today? I can drive you to the city.”
“Yes, sure.” You got ready and Lewis drove you there right on time.
“I’ll just drive around for a bit, text me when the class is over,” he said as he dropped you by the gym’s door. He ended up going shopping for baby stuff, and had at least seven shopping bags by the time he went back to pick you up. He stopped the car by the entryway of the gym, where a man had been excitedly talking to you. Lewis made a face, it seemed like everywhere he went, there was someone into you. Of course, you were radiating this glow and charm of a pregnant woman, seducing everyone around.
Impatient, Lewis honked softly to catch your attention. He bit his tongue as you said goodbye to the man, who hugged you way too tight for Lewis’ taste. You were happy and Lewis hated that you were giving that rando your sweet smile and attention. He didn’t say anything as you got closer and he left the car to open the door for you, instead, he showed you all the stuff he had bought you and the baby.
When the end of the week came, Lewis also came back as you were leaving for your doctor’s appointment. You had invited him but he also had taken a picture of your schedule.
At the doctor’s you laid on the bed and the doctor started the ultrasound, Lewis gripped your hand firmly, his eyes never leaving the screen.
“See, here, this is your baby,” she pointed at the little gray mass on the screen, she gestured to the nurse, “and this is their heartbeat.”
The sound filled the room, and Lewis felt like his world stopped and reset, a warm sensation in his chest, finding what felt like something to live and something to die for. He listened while you asked the doctor for updates, but his eyes never left the screen, where he could see Peanut.
As you left the room, with your next appointment scheduled, Lewis stopped you in the parking lot, pulled you to his chest, holding you firmly and breathing into you. He was crying, you held him and that moment, something started to heal inside you. Maybe you’d never get your husband back, but you could count on him as a friend, as the father of your kid.
“Everything’s gonna be alright, Lewis. We’re gonna do great for Peanut.” You whispered into his shoulder.
-
You and Lewis managed to get a routine, he was coming back frequently, he claimed your guest room and was staying for two or three days at a time, only leaving for his commitments. Both of you already did therapy separately but you also decided to go a few sessions with a family therapist to try and navigate the new family dynamics as divorced parents to an unborn baby. You talked about the cheating a lot, which brought big emotions during most of the sessions, with the therapist mediating until you could talk again. Lewis for the most part accepted taking you anger and sadness and hurt, apologizing profusely over and over again, reassuring you that he made a mistake he regretted every breathing moment. It took a while to make peace with the fact that his mistake shouldn’t define him forever, to accept and give him the opportunity to grow and learn for the sake of your baby.
“The season will start soon,” he told you one day, late at night as you ate quietly. You only hummed a response, unsure of what he wanted you to say or what point he was trying to make.
“Ok, understood,” you muttered, knowing he probably was letting you know he wasn’t going to come visit you as much, which honestly made you a bit sad, kinda used to his company by now.
“What I mean to ask is, can I move here? I know I won’t have much free time, so instead of going back to Monaco, I was wondering if I could come straight here. Of course, I would need to bring a few things, training gear, stuff from my office,” When you didn’t answer him, jaw slacked, he thought you might not like the idea, “But it’s ok if you rather not, too. I mean, if you prefer your privacy and all- I totally respect-”
“It’s ok, Lewis, you can move here for the remainder of the pregnancy,” you calmed his rambling, and he smiled seemingly relieved.
“Thank you, I don’t want to miss anything,” He whispered, crouching down by your side, putting his hand on your belly, “right, Peanut? Daddy’s gonna be right here.”
The next morning, you woke up, the breakfast was ready, and you looked around for Lewis, until you found him outside. He was wearing gardening gloves, making a hole on the ground with a trowel, and behind him a wheelbarrow loaded with flower pots. He was also shirtless, sweat glistening on his skin and above his tattoos, back muscles prominent with every move, which had your pregnancy hormones feeling some kind of way.
“Morning, what is going on?” You asked, hugging yourself as you approached him.
“Well, you said you wanted a flower bed on the entryway. So I had the time and thought I would do it for you.” He shrugged, removing the gloves.
“You didn’t have to, but thank you.”
As he stood up and when he turned to you, your eyes fell on his necklace, and more specifically, your wedding band hanging from the necklace like a pendant. You had wondered if he had gotten rid of your wedding ring, but now you knew where it was. Lewis swallowed like he was self conscious, putting his hand over the ring. It was so different whenever you thought about the cheating and the divorce, about the new normal you had to get used to. You weren’t angry at him anymore, but it would require a lot to rebuild the trust you once had in him. You decided to not address the elephant in the room, so you just looked away.
“I’m going to eat, thank you for breakfast, also.”
He only nodded as you got inside, swallowing the lump in your throat with a glass of juice and slices of bread. You didn’t mention the ring, but you could notice he kept wearing the ring under his shirts.
You went back to watch his races, commenting about it with Olive and Peanut, cheering when he was going well and complaining when he wasn’t. You’d hug him whenever he came back, for emotional support, you’d tell yourself.
You two decided you wouldn’t find out if Peanut was a boy or a girl, leaving the mystery to whenever they were born. And as the pregnancy progressed, it was inevitable that you and Lewis got closer, almost like best friends as he had seen your many lows of the pregnancy. That one time you craved cauliflower with barbecue sauce, or when you ate corn with sprinkled smashed cheetos on top, or when you farted loudly. He also had seen you cry because the delivery guy didn’t wave back to you as he was leaving, or when Olive hunted a small gecko and gave you as a present and you started just bawling. Or when Lewis hummed a song by a rapper you disliked and you started going off, snappy.
Honestly, Lewis took your mood swings and weird cravings like a champ with the patience of a saint. He had read about how pregnancy could cause your emotions to be all over the place, with outbursts of sadness or anger, and according to what he read, he just needed to help you let it all out. He had studied hard about pregnancy and was always willing to help. Funnily enough, you saw him more that season than all the five seasons you witnessed when you dated and was married to him.
One night you went to bed early, and when he went to your bedroom to check on you, you were moving a little, grunting in your sleep. Lewis immediately went closer, shaking your shoulders to wake you up from your nightmare.
“Hey, hey,” he called and you opened your eyes wide and you looked a little winded, “had a bad dream?”
Your eyes started tearing up, and he sat by your side, putting an arm over your shoulder for comfort. He ran a hand up and down your back as you wiped your tears. 
“Are you ok?”
“It wasn’t a bad dream!” You whined like a little kid about to throw a tantrum.
“Ok, you want to talk about it? Maybe I can run you a bath?” He offered.
“It was a sex dream!”
Your words caught him a little off guard.
“I’m sorry?” He tried to understand what he should do or say.
“Goddamn pregnancy! I’m horny all the time now, but I can’t cum with my fingers! And I bought a bunch of toys but the delivery had messed it up and it never arrived!” You cried even louder now, and Lewis had to bite his tongue so as to not laugh and cause more anger.
“I could help you with that,” he offered, softly. He was actually scared you’d punch him in the nose for offering.
Instead you just stood up huffing and puffing, and went into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you.
“Sorry!” He shouted, standing by the door. Then a minute later you opened the door again, poking your head out.
“Will you help me?” You pouted.
“Of course, baby,” he walked inside, and you stood there wearing only a t-shirt and panties, “do you have something in mind or do you want me to freestyle?”
“Freestyle. Fuck, I just need to cum.”
Lewis sat by the closed toilet and patted his lap. You walked over to him, letting him position you sideways on his lap. God, you were so frustrated, and so horny your panties were shamelessly wet from the dream. He cupped you, running his middle finger up and down between your legs.
“Lewis, fuck,” you moaned, hyper sensitive, but still not enough, “if you’re going to tease me, I better finish the job myself.”
“Calm down, woman! I was just creating the buildup!”
“I’ve been building up for the past three weeks, Lewis. I need the finishing!” You whined and Lewis chuckled, pushing your panties down until they hung from your foot.
A loud moan escaped your lips as he ran his finger over your cunt, spreading out your wetness and when the pad of his finger found your clit, your hips jerked. You nuzzled into his neck inhaling his perfume and laying your weight on him, letting him do his thing. You had been feeling so sensitive because of the pregnancy, every single touch made your body jolt, curling your stomach already so close.
“More, Lewis, please,” you moaned into his skin, and he only hummed, pressing a finger inside you. His other arm was around you, holding you firmly against his chest.
“Like that, baby? That’s how you want it?” He asked, egging you on, going harder.
You could only moan as he took his time pressing into you, curling his finger and finding your most pleasurable spot.
“Oh, Lewis, fuck-” you moaned all the way up to your orgasm that had your toes curling and eyes rolling back. It took all his restraint to not eat your moans with a sloppy kiss.
Lewis slowed down, but he didn’t stop fingering you, and when you almost felt like it was too much, he kept going, cooing you.
“That’s ok, baby. Give me one more, yeah?” As you whined, pushing his hand away, he gave you a couple of seconds and went back, “you can take it, love. Gonna sleep so well after. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
He practically pushed you into the second orgasm, shaking, hand pressing your nails into his skin and you bit into his neck to muffle your moans.
Breathless, you just melted into him, sleepy again after cumming so good. Lewis cleaned you and carried you back to bed, letting you fall into slumber.
Raging hard, he ended up in the bathroom of the guest room, fisting his own length thinking of your moans and your teeth on his neck, that’s how he finished under the running shower.
The next morning, he smirked as you walked inside the kitchen, his winning smile hidden behind a mug.
“Shut up, Lewis, or I swear I’m gonna cut your dick off!” You warned. He held back a laugh.
“I didn’t say anything!” He raised both hands in surrender.
“Yeah, but you thought.”
“Look, whenever you need release, I’m right here for you to use me any way you want.” He smiled slyly.
“SHUT UP!” You threw a grape at him, which he caught in the air and ate. “I won’t be needing your services anymore, but thank you.” You whispered begrudgingly.
“If you say so…” He shrugged.
But that same night you ended up laid on the table, your dress hunched around your waist as Lewis ate you out like a man starved for the better part of an hour. You came loudly, grinding your hips to his face, pulling on his braids as he pulled orgasm after orgasm. Until you were limp and sleepy, and he cleaned you up and took you to bed.
It kept happening, but you never kissed or fucked, he would just relieve your tension with hand and mouth, and the few times you tried to reciprocate, he denied and said you were pregnant and needed the stress relief. You’d usually go to sleep right after he pleasured you.
After he left for a race week, you received a medium box full of sex toys, ranging from vibrators to suckers and dildos. He left a note saying it was for whenever he wasn’t there to fulfill your needs.
One morning, you were working, finishing up the last of your projects before going on maternity leave, when you felt a little poke on your belly, from inside. You squealed, and in mere seconds, Lewis was speeding up the stairs and barging into your office.
“What happened? Are you ok? Do we need to go to the hospital?” He panted, getting close to you. You just held his wrist and pressed his palm against your bump, where you had felt the thing.
“I think Peanut just kicked!”
You two stayed silent as you waited, and then you felt it just as Lewis felt on his hand. You cried, Lewis cried, and then he crouched, pressing his face to your belly, feeling a little kick on the side of his face. He laughed between tears.
“Peanut, daddy’s right here! You’re going to be so strong, baby!”
As your bump got bigger, and the pains got a little bit worse, you tried new sleep positions because of the back pains. Your feet swelled and your boobs and nipples got a bit more sensitive, so you had to change bras. Lewis was such a great help throughout the gestation, that you’d  always remember him as a great source of strength. Sometime after you were seven months along during Summer Break, Lewis ended up taking you to a spa resort one week, somewhere in Greece, where you had one of the best times ever. You got massages, went into the hot tub, swam in the pools and went to the beach.
One random day back home, you were feeling particularly bothered by the backache, laying down in different positions and walking around with a muscle pain tape glued to your spine. Whenever you felt like that, your mood got irritable due to the pain.
“I saw something on the internet, I think we could try,” Lewis suggested.
“What?”
“Just trust me, yeah?” He asked and you nodded.
He stood right behind you, his chest pressed to your back, and his arms circled your waist, both hands settling under the bump. Then he just pushed up softly, taking the weight of the baby. You moaned feeling instant relief on your back, your head falling down on Lewis’ shoulder as you breathed deep.
“It’s ok, take your time,” he murmured close to your ear, “we should do this a few times a day to ease the pain.”
Eventually you two sat down to discuss baby names, and decided on each making a list and then comparing if you had put the same names. The boy names list ended up with three names matching and the girls’ list had only one match. You came around with choices for both, but ultimately decided to leave the decision for after Peanut was born.
When your birthday came in late July, Lewis took you to another trip, for a surprise.
“Where are we?” You asked as he blindfolded you on your way out of the private jet.
“We’re in London.”
“Oh, I love London!” You whispered excitedly, getting inside a car.
“I know you do.”
It took a few minutes, but eventually, he took you out of the car and walked you a few steps. Then, he removed your blindfold, and you stared at a big house. Not any house, but the home you had designed, your family home. The one you would give him on his birthday, but he saw when you were at the low ending of your marriage.
And it was just like the project, the same materials, the same colors, the same height and size. With all the little details you had poured your heart into.
“Happy birthday, this is yours.” Lewis whispered, handing you a key set.
“Lewis? What?” You turned to him, feeling your eyes watering.
“I know that we divorced, and things are different now… But I think it’s only fair that you get to raise Peanut in the home we dreamed of,” he said and you just nodded, the tears falling down, “and I hope you save me a guest room, for when I want to spend time with Peanut and Mama, if you allow.”
It was time you admitted that you and Lewis had grown so much closer than you ever did while married. It was good and most of the time you’d say it was everything for the sake of Peanut, but you knew better. You could silently admit to yourself that Lewis was an indispensable presence in your life. You needed his steadfast support that you been getting throughout the pregnancy, you needed his company in the mornings and his laughter in the evenings, you needed the feel of his hands on you be it for comfort or for intimacy.
And you fucking loved him.
It was like you’ve never stopped, even through the pain and the divorce, like your heart had always been in the palm of his hands.
But the pregnancy was like falling in love all over again.
You turned around and pulled Lewis by the coat, pressing your lips into his. It felt so right, like you should’ve never stopped. Lewis held your neck, pressing you into him.
“Lewis…”
“We can talk about it, yeah? Take as slow or as fast as you want. I just-” he paused, pecking your lips twice like he couldn’t get enough, “-I love you, my baby. And we can do whatever you want.”
“Let’s just, let’s take it slow first, yeah? See what- see what happens.”
He nodded, kissing you once again before taking you for a tour of the house. It was just as beautiful as you had imagined. The house was already baby proofed, and it had electricity and water already running.
“You can move here whenever you feel like it.”
“Yeah, I think I will soon rather than later. But I’ll keep my place in Edinburgh too.”
When the due date came, you had already moved to the new home, and it was so much closer to your parents and Lewis’ parents to visit, so Carmen was coming to see you a couple of times a week. She usually cooked for you, leaving meal preps for the days she couldn’t come.
To keep everything on the low with the media, you and Lewis decided against a baby shower. No one knew about the divorce, nor the baby.
“Lewis, it’s time to pack your bags,” you said walking into the room.
You were honestly so fed up with being pregnant that you just wanted to give birth. Your body was uncomfortable, you couldn’t sleep right in any position, your breasts were so full that it was leaking all the time and the bump got in the way of pretty much anything.
“I don’t need to,” he said, sleepily turning off the alarm.
“Lewis, you’re going to miss the flight!”
It was race week, which meant he would leave and only come back Monday. Hopefully, Peanut will be born next week. You were already a little over 39 weeks so you’d give birth pretty much any minute now.
“I’m not racing this week,” he said simply.
“You what?! You can’t do that! You need the points!” You exclaimed, pacing around.
“Love, Peanut will come any moment now, I won’t be away and risk missing this.” Lewis stood up, holding your shoulders and standing behind you. He held your bump and lifted it just like he had been doing, which helped you feel immense relief.
“Lewis, I can’t believe this! You’re literally competing for the championship! You can’t afford to lose any points.”
“I won’t be able to get in the car and drive knowing you’re here mostly alone or maybe that you’re going through labor alone. This is not up for discussion, I have spoken to Toto and everything is already set.”
You wanted to cry. You had not told him about how you were worried he might miss the birth, but he must’ve picked up somehow. You two had been in an entirely new level of connection, Lewis attuned to your wants and needs without you needing to express.
You turned around, kissing him. He held you close, reciprocating as his hands explored your body. And with just a little make out you were lit up and horny again.
“Can we make love?” You asked him, between kisses.
“Are you sure?” He mumbled, nipping at your bottom lip.
“Please, I miss your cock,” you whined, pulling his shirt.
That did it for him. He undressed, and you eyed your wedding band on his necklace. You pulled your dress up and Lewis groaned as he saw you were wearing only a support bra underneath, no panties.
“We need to see what positions is more comfortable though, I-”
“Spooning, missionary or cowgirl” he kissed you again, taking your hand and leading you to the bed.
“How do you know?”
“I read a book.”
“A book about sex?” You giggled.
“A book about pregnancy sex.” He corrected which made you laugh even harder.
“Ok then, get in the bed. On your back,” you bossed him and he obeyed.
You didn’t take too much time to straddle him, his cock between your pussy lips as you ground up and down on him, leaning down to kiss him. You were dripping wet, finding comfort on the way his abdomen held most of the weight of the bump. You looked down to him, his lips were open and he helped you up until you had him lined up and into your cunt. Both of you moaned out loud. The first time for both since your goodbye before the divorce.
Lewis sat up and pawed at your boobs and you moaned with sensitivity. He tried to remove your bra, but you stopped him.
“It’s going to leak everywhere, Lewis.” You shook your head.
“What kind of husband do you take me for?” He asked as if you were being silly. He unclasped your bra and as soon as you were free, ready to complain, he mouthed your nipple, sucking hard. The relief of the milk coming out was so great it had you groaning.
“Oh, Jesus! Fuck, fuck, fuck-” you moaned out loud with the relief his sucking caused, so much that your cunt clenched with the pleasure, “that’s so good baby, fuck- you’re so good!”
You started moving your hips, the experience so otherworldly that you could only ride him, letting him suck at your tits as your mind exploded with mind blowing sex. You shook so hard through the orgasm that Lewis had to stop and hold you firmly, only moving his hips under you to cum hard to the feel of your cunt milking him.
He stared at you like you were the most beautiful woman on earth, with so much love and devotion that you couldn’t help but bash in it.
You fucked any given chance for the next few days, making up for lost time. Lewis’ favorite position was spooning while he fucked you from behind, holding your body flush against him, kissing your neck and shoulder.
Saturday evening, you started feeling pain, sometimes every few hours. Lewis wanted to go to the hospital immediately but you, having talked with your doctor, knew it was too soon, and you’d only wait for hours in a hospital room.
You slept on and off the entire night, the jolts of pain waking you up every couple of hours. In the morning, you and Lewis had breakfast and decided to watch the race to see how Mick was going to do. You didn’t make it past ten laps, when the water broke when you got up for snacks.
“Oh my god! Ok, now we’re going to the hospital, yeah?” He asked and you nodded, taking your phone to let your doctor know you were going to the hospital.
Lewis was a mess, running up and down the stairs to grab your hospital bag, then he forgot the car keys and went back up again.
“Ok, stay calm, we’re fine,” he said, helping you up.
“I’m calm, Lewis.”
“Yeah, I’m talking to myself.”
You laughed as you two got in the car and to the hospital. You still felt these jolts of pain, each contraction getting closer and closer from the one before. You were put in a bed to wait for the right moment for the baby to crown. Lewis never left your side, even to call his family and your parents to let them know, he stood by you.
When it was a little while before the time to labor, you couldn’t handle the pain anymore, opting for an epidural on the spot which made the pain bearable. Then finally came the time to push, and Lewis stayed there, holding your hand and whispering words of comfort when necessary, and words of strength when needed.
“You are doing great, love. Come on, on three you push with all you can yeah? Promise I’ll stay right here! Come on, no- no-” he held your face softly, “I know you’re tired but you can’t rest yet! Stay here, and we’re going to see Peanut soon! Come on, when the doctor calls three, you push!”
Your memory would be hazy but you’d never forget Lewis’ patience and strength dealing with you. His voice guiding you through every single hour, his eyes that were so kind and his hands on you.
“I can’t Lewis!” You cried, but he held your face, looking deep into your eyes.
“You can! You can because you’re the strongest person here! I love you so much. You can, I’m right here with you. One more push, Peanut is almost out.”
Then, there was the loud cry of the baby in the doctor's hands. Gasping, Lewis stared at the baby while the doctor cut the umbilical cord. You looked at Lewis, who was bawling, face sweaty but the complete adoration in his eyes said more than any words could ever.
“This is your baby girl, Mom and Dad!” The doctor handed you the baby curled on a blanket.
“Oh my god. Love, this is Luna, right?” Lewis leaned down, whispering and watching his baby’s face.
“Luna…” You whispered, looking at her perfect little face.
“Our Luna…” Lewis whispered.
-
You were making tea in the kitchen when you heard Luna starting to cry, progressively louder. You could hear Lewis trying to calm her down, and when you came back to the living room, he was softly nursing Luna, and she was still whining.
“Everything ok, Dada?” You asked him, saving him a mug with tea.
Chuckling, he held Luna against his naked chest, and she was getting calmer and calmer. You sat on the couch, watching them. But then Lewis started mumbling a song, softly like a lullaby, and after a few seconds he sang a bit louder so you could make up the lyrics.
But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life, I love you more
Funnily enough, Luna started to drift to sleep again, curled on her Dad’s chest. He put her on the little carrier, covering with the blanket then sat beside you, pulling you into his chest.
“Can you believe that? We made the most amazing bundle of love!” He said, kissing the top of your head, “Thank you so much for taking a chance on me, for letting me be part of this. I love you so much.”
“I love you too, honey.”
“I told you we were gonna make it.”
You felt like your heart was going to burst with so much love, for Lewis, for Luna and grateful for the second chance you took on this life and these dreams. You knew there was still a lot of work to put in, not only in raising your daughter but also in rebuilding your life with Lewis, but you were sure you'd have the rest of your lives to work on it.
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starkwlkr · 2 days
Text
mum said no | lewis hamilton
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an: i love hot ones <3 that’s all
After canceling many times, Lewis finally made his appearance on Hot Ones with Sean Evans. He was a big fan of the show so he was happy to finally get to be a guest. Not only was he a big fan, but so was his eleven year old daughter, Maeve, so naturally she accompanied him to the set.
Maeve Hamilton watched as her dad ate spicy wings and answered questions. When talking about Roscoe, Maeve payed close attention. She loved talking about Roscoe so much.
On the monitor, a picture of Roscoe and Maeve appeared. Maeve was wearing a black Lewis shirt that her mum had bought from an Etsy store while Roscoe licked her face. It was the British Grand Prix and Maeve, along with her sisters, was beyond excited.
“Look, Mavy, that’s you and Roscoe!” Lewis pointed to the screen. “That was taken last year. Do you remember?” Lewis asked his daughter.
Maeve looked at the picture and nodded. “Angela took it!”
“Is your family always at the races?” Sean asked.
“Most of the time during the summer, yeah. It’s always a great time when they’re in the garage, but when it’s school time, they stay home with their mum.” Lewis explained. “They don’t like that at all. But I always tell them education comes first.”
“But I get lots of good grades.” Maeve cut in.
“What’s your favorite subject?” Sean asked the girl.
“I like science.” Replied Maeve.
As the show went on, Maeve was seated next to the camera crew, laughing at her father. He was now taking bigger bites.
“You can do it!” Maeve cheered on.
“Thank you, baby. Love you.” Lewis chuckled and blew a kiss to the girl. “I can always count on my girls to cheer me on.”
“On the topic of family, is it possible that Formula One could get another Hamilton on the track? Or do they want to go into other careers?” Sean asked.
“At one point, they did say they wanted to, but now they’re discovering more careers that they’re interested in. I will support them in whatever choice they make.”
You and Lewis both knew that your daughters would never be Formula one drivers. You both talked about how hard it would be on them. He saw how fans were tough on Mick. He didn’t want his girls to go through that.
The wings got spicier and all Maeve could do was laugh at the faces Lewis was making. He drank milk but that barely helped. Tears were starting to come out his eyes. Maeve noticed and quickly went to her father’s side and used a clean napkin to clean the tears since she didn’t want him using his own hands that were covered in sauce.
“Thank you, baby.” Lewis said as Maeve cleaned up the tears.
“What kind of reaction do you get when somone pulls up alongside of you and then sees that it’s, you know, Lewis Hamilton behind the wheel next to them?” Sean questioned.
“Most people are just like ‘Holy Shit!’ um. . .” Lewis chuckled.
“They’re not revving their engine at you or anything?”
“I’ve had people, yeah traffic light that wanna race yeah.” He nodded. “Definitely when I was young, I felt like yeah. . . smoke this fool.” He laughed.
“This man wanted to race you yesterday!” Maeve spoke up. “Mum said no.”
“I got kids now!” Lewis laughed once again. “I got precious cargo, I can’t be fooling around.”
“And mum said no.” Maeve whispered to him.
“Yup, and mum said no.”
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btsvt-bar · 20 days
Text
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down bad
pairing ꩜ husband!mingyu x afab!reader
sequel to hurts so good, please read it first to understand their background/dynamics.
content/genre ꩜ haters to lovers, ceo/mean husband mingyu, smut (18+ mdni). they sort of have a fwb thing going on.
author's note ꩜
not proofread. comments are appreciated!
warnings under the cut!
warnings ꩜ smut, masturbation (m. and f. receiving), oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, corruption kink (it's not deeply explored), orgasm denial, creampie, dom-ish mingyu, dirty talk, cock warming, pet names (baby, dear husband/wife, my queen, pretty girl), mentions of threesome.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
You loved birthday parties, especially if they were children’s parties. It’s Saturday afternoon and you’re in the backyard of Wonwoo and Claire’s house to celebrate Yeji’s 4th birthday.
You’re sitting by the pool, your legs submerged to your knees. You see your husband playing around with his friends’ kids. He’s holding Minjoon—Seungcheol’s son—in his arms while he pretends to drink tea with Yeji and three of her school friends. Your heart skips a beat when he looks your way and smiles. It’s almost unfair how handsome he is, even dressed with pink fairy wings, a princess tiara and a pair of plastic earrings.
You sigh and turn your attention to the big form approaching. Joshua greets you with a smile. "Y/N, why are you here all alone?" he asks while sitting by your side.
"Just chilling." You offer a shy smile, a bit intimidated by his presence.
Joshua Hong is gorgeous. When you first met him, you were completely enamored with his face. And when you found out he was nice and friendly, you kinda developed a crush on him. Now, a few years later, you still feel intimidated whenever he’s around.
You take in his visuals, from his dark hair pushed back, featuring his perfect face, to the white button up shirt that allowed you to see a bit of his chest, to his light brown cargo shorts that showcased his legs perfectly. He carried an amused smile on his lips, as usual.
"I’m glad you joined me, though."
"Well, all of my friends are talking about parenting and I can’t listen to another minute of tips on how to change a diaper." Joshua states and you laugh lightly.
"I know the feeling very well." You throw him an empathetic look. "So… how was your trip to Paris? Mingyu mentioned you went there for a convention or something?"
Shua stares into the water, he’s watching your feet move around. "Yeah, for this Luxury Hotels thing. My dad’s trying to expand the franchise and I went to meet some European investors."
"Seems a bit boring." You blurt out and Joshua chuckles, agreeing promptly.
"It is. But it’s work so it’s not meant to be fun."
"True. But Paris is a great city with amazing food and museums."
"Maybe we should go together next time." Joshua comments and your movements freeze instantly. Realizing what he said, he adds "With everyone else, I mean! Like a group trip."
The mischievous gleam in his eyes makes you feel warm inside. Joshua’s flirting, you’re not dumb. And he’s not either, he knows the truth about your situationship with Mingyu.
"That would be nice." Your voice is soft and shaky. He barely said anything and you’re freaking out inside, which leads you to think that maybe you have a big crush on him.
"Hey! You two!" You hear Mingyu’s voice calling. "Let’s sing happy birthday and cut the cake."
Joshua gets up and extends his hands to help you. His palms feel soft under your fingertips, and you feel your insides twist. "C’mon, Y/N. Your husband’s waiting." He flashes a knowing smile and walks away, leaving you too stunned to follow.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
It’s been a year since you and Mingyu made peace and started being friends. You agreed to be friends with benefits and to be exclusive, since you couldn’t risk someone assuming one of you was cheating. So you two reaped the benefits like dates, physical touching and, of course, sex, but didn’t really work on getting romantically involved. Of course that doesn’t mean that both of you didn’t develop some feelings, because you did. But, for now, you played husband and wife and everything was good.
But now, thinking about the way Joshua flirted with you, you wished you could have him. And your brain, always being one to come up with naughty ideas, had the best solution to your problem.
"Gyu?" You call your husband softly. You’re both lying on your shared bed watching TV, his head on your chest and his big hand caressing your belly.
"Hm?" He responds without looking away from the big screen.
"Remember that one time we talked about having a threesome, and I said I didn’t have a guy option?" Your words sparked his interest, so the man got up on his elbows to look at you. "I have a name now…"
Mingyu looks curiously at you. He has an idea of who, but he wants you to say the name. "Who?"
You bite your lower lip, feeling a bit nervous. "Joshua."
Your husband smirks. He knew it. "You have the hots for Shua hyung, dear wife?"
"So what if I do?" You pout. "He’s single and he seems to know about us."
Mingyu scrunches his nose. "I accidentally told him last time we went out for a drink." He reveals with a sheepish smile. "He’s reliable, don’t worry."
"Well, one more reason to do it with him." You say excitedly, your mind already picturing the things you would to do Joshua.
"I don’t want to have a threesome anymore." Your husband states in a quiet voice.
When you look at him, he’s staring down at his hand that’s resting on your hips. He looks a bit annoyed. "What? Are you jealous?" You chuckle, fishing for an answer.
"Not at all." He lies, rolling his eyes to add to the dramatics. "It’s just not on my kink list."
His words make you realize that he’s never once told you about his kinks. In the past year, you’ve talked a few times about it. And Mingyu’s been really open to exploring them, always being so generous and giving you new mind blowing sex experiences each time.
"So what’s on your kink list?" You ask with a sly smile, liking the direction of the conversation.
Mingyu lets his body fall on the bed, hiding his face. He shakes his head, indicating he’s not talking.
"Tell me!" You insist, shaking his arms. "I told you all of mine, but you never told me yours. Besides angry sex, of course."
"Never mind. It’s stupid."
You grab his chin to make him look at you. His cheeks have a pink hue, and he’s scrunching his nose. "Please baby, tell me."
Mingyu sighs, giving in to your soft plead. "It’s not actually a kink, but maaaaybe I’ve been thinking about fucking you in a wedding dress. Since our wedding night never happened."
The air gets caught up in your lungs. The idea of Mingyu having his way with you in a sort of reenactment of your wedding day makes your core burn and your stomach twist and turn.
"I like that idea." You give him a quick kiss before letting go of his face. "What else?"
"I wanted to try corruption kink." He looks away, his face burning even more. It’s funny how cute he looks while revealing his sexual fantasies.
"We can totally try it too." You agree, even if he didn’t actually ask. "But only if you look at me and give me another kiss."
Mingyu chuckles and goes in for the kiss. You touch lips for a few seconds before pulling away.
"Let’s sleep, I’m beaten."
"Not easy being uncle of the year, huh?" You taunt him. "You looked cute dressed up as a fairy."
"The things I do for my goddaughter." He sighs. You both knew fully well he enjoyed playing with the kids, but you let his little lie slide. "Good night, dear wife."
"Good night, dear husband." You allow him to engulf you in a warm hug before slipping into unconsciousness.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
A couple weeks later, you and Mingyu go out to celebrate your 5th anniversary. It’s the first one you’re going to celebrate, now that you’re on good terms. For this reason, you prepared a little surprise for Mingyu, wanting to spice things up a bit.
After your conversation about his kinks, you decided you needed a special occasion to try them, and what’s more special than the first anniversary you celebrate?
So you went out with Gwen and she helped you pick out a nice wedding dress. You settled for a sparkly white satin rhinestone strap mini dress that really compliments your boobs and legs. You’re sure he’s going to lose it when he sees you.
Mingyu also planned a surprise: he made a reservation for an overnight stay in a luxurious hotel room, which had the biggest bed you’ve ever seen.
You arrive after having dinner at your favorite Italian restaurant. Mingyu has a goofy smile, maybe because you both had a couple drinks, maybe because he is excited for the night.
There’s a small table in your room with two flutes and a bottle of champagne waiting. Mingyu pops it open and you toast. You take a sip and decide it’s time to put on your dress.
"Wait here, I have a surprise."
While you rush to the big bathroom to get changed, Mingyu takes off his blazer. He’s wearing a deep purple shirt that compliments his skin, and perfectly tailored dress pants. His hands are shaking in anticipation, because he has another surprise for you before the night ends.
Meanwhile, you put on your dress pretty quickly—you chose one that you’re able to zip up yourself. You pull the white lace garter up your leg, adding a touch of sensuality. To finish off, you place the short veil on your head. Taking a quick glance in the mirror, you decide you look perfect. You slip back into your white heels and open the bathroom door.
Mingyu’s looking out the window, his champagne glass nearly empty. You approach him slowly and cover his eyes with your hands. "Guess who?"
"Hm… I have a feeling it’s my wife. Not sure though." He joined in with a laugh.
You place your hands on his shoulder and turn him around, revealing your new outfit. His jaw drops when he sees you.
"Y/N, what is this?" His breathing is quick and you can see he’s starting to malfunction.
"Well, I kept thinking about how we never had a wedding night." You bite your lower lip, inching closer to him. "And I figured tonight would be a good one to make up for lost time. Don’t you agree?"
Mingyu just stares, still in shock. He takes in your form, how your boobs look delicious in your dress, the way the fabric hugs your waist, and how you look fucking angelic while asking him to fuck you. "Shit, you can’t do this to me." He groans in a low, deep tone.
You can see he already has a tent in his pants. Mingyu looks flushed, and you haven’t even touched him yet.
"How about you lie down, dear husband?" You say in a provocative tone. "You look a little pale, let me take care of you."
The man nearly runs to the bed. He gets comfortable and you get on top of him. Your core is starting to grow hot, seeing how much he wants you.
Without giving it a second thought, pull out his pants along with his boxers. His cock stands hard and leaking pre cum, which makes your mouth water at the sight.
Before leaving the house, you decided you want to have a night to remember. And you hold on to that determination when you keep pushing Mingyu’s buttons.
"I want to help, but I don’t know how…" you take his cock in your hand and pump it slowly. He shudders at the stimulation. "Can you teach me how to do it, dear husband?" Your saccharine voice makes something twist inside of Mingyu. He takes in your doe eyes and semi innocent smile, quickly catching on what you’re doing. The man chuckles in pleasant disbelief, he knows he’s in for a treat.
"My pretty girl needs guidance?" His big hand starts to guide yours as you masturbate him. You’re sitting on his beefy thighs and you can feel him trembling as you increase the speed of your movements. Mingyu’s eyes are closed and his mouth slightly parted, allowing some sighs to fall off easily.
You feel him twitching under your palm and his hand holds your wrist to stop you. "That’s enough, baby." His voice is breathy and it makes you happy to see how much you affect him.
"Can you do something else for me?" Mingyu asks. You nod and bat your eyelashes at him. "I need you to put your mouth around it."
You feign shock, widening your eyes and slightly gaping your mouth. Mingyu sits up a bit, and kisses you softly while kneading your thighs. "I'll help through it, pretty girl".
You slide down the bed and inch closer to his throbbing cock. "Open your mouth." Mingyu instructs and you play along.
His heavy hand grabs the back of your head and guides you to start sucking him off. He loves the wet and warm feeling of your tongue on his cock, it makes the fire in his abdomen burn hotter and hotter with each passing second.
Mingyu starts to feel hot and unbuttons his shirt, his hand leaving your to bob your head on your own for a few seconds. "You're so good at this, baby." He groans deeply and you feel arousal pool on your lace panties, his reactions turning you on even more.
When he feels he's about to cum, Mingyu pulls you away. You take a good look at your husband, taking in they way his toned chest glistened because of the thin layer of sweat. He takes off his shirt, laying bare beneath you. He looks beautiful and your heart races.
You sigh and move closer, needing to feel his lips on yours. You share a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing in sync. Mingyu guides your hips and you grind against him, his big hands giving occasional slaps on your ass.
By now, you're already soaking wet and desperate for his cock. You need Mingyu and you need him now. "Gyu, I need you".
"Need me to do what, baby?"
Of course he wasn't going to make it easy for you. You take his hand and guide it to your dripping cunt, acting shy. Mingyu runs his fingers on your lace panties and grunts when he feels just how wet you are.
Mingyu decides to play nice and slips his fingers in your panties. He glides his fingers easily, collecting your wetness while rubbing your lower lips. His middle finger settles in your clit and he circles it slowly, sending electric waves through your body.
Your head feels heavy with lust, so you let it fall on his shoulder. He keeps masturbating you until you feel on edge. When he senses you're about to cum, he stops his ministrations, earning a frustrated cry from you.
"I-I was so close" you complain with a pout. Mingyu laughs and pecks your puckered up lips.
"I promise I'm going to make you feel even better."
Mingyu reaches for the zipper on your back and undoes it in a way to expose your boobs. He grabs them and runs his thumbs on your nipples. "So perfect for me, they fit perfectly in my hands."
He attaches his lips to your right nipple and keep massaging the other. You go back to rutting each other like animals on heat. You pull his hair and let you head fall back, the familiar burning sensation running through your veins.
Mingyu decides he's had enough, so he manhandles you so you're on all fours. He stands tall behind you, admiring your exposed ass and covered cunt. Slowly, he slides your panties down your legs. You shake in anticipation.
"My beautiful wife..." he sighs. "You're going to be good to me, aren't you?" You agree quickly. "I can't wait to ruin you. To fill you up with my seed and get you pregnant." You both moan in unison.
Your heart is racing with his words. God, you'd let him do anything to you. Anything. "Please, do it."
Mingyu's cock throbs with your request. He aligns himself with your whole and sinks in slowly. You lose strength and bend your arms, exposing your ass even more. Mingyu grabs your waist to support you in place, even if his own legs were trembling with pent up desire.
He slides in and out of you, catching up speed until his unrelenting tempo makes the bed shake and hit the wall. His cock massages your inner walls in the most perfect way, hitting all the right places to put you in a lustful frenzy.
You're sure you're moaning and whining, but your heart pumps so loudly in your ears that you don't quite hear it. But Mingyu does, and it only spurs him on. He's lost in your heat, in the way you clench around him. Plus, you in that fucking wedding dress... every time his eyes glimpse at the sheer white fabric, he swears his cock gets even harder.
Mingyu slows down and pulls out of you. You let out a whimper at the loss, feeling really worked up and frustrated.
The man sits down again and pulls you on his lap, and you're so wet you sink down on him with ease. You start to ride him, your boobs bouncing deliciously for Mingyu to see.
His eyes focus on the place where you two connect. Your cunt swallows his big cock beautifully. "You're taking me so well, pretty girl".
You place your hands on his chest for support, your short nails sinking on his skin and leaving small crescent marks. "I'm close."
Mingyu snaps his hips up to meet yours, reaching even deeper within you. It only takes a few slides for you to cum.
You feel your spirit being lifted from your body and you tremble, falling into Mingyu. He places two fingers on your clit and circles it to intensify your pleasure. You're so out of it you don't even notice when Mingyu flips you both over and starts to rail you missionary, chasing after his own high.
"Fill me up, dear husband" You sigh in his ear and Mingyu shivers. "Make my pussy full of your warm cum. Give me your babies".
That's enough for Mingyu to lose it and cum with a deep moan. He shivers and start to unload inside of you, his white milk covering your abused walls. His hips slow down and he stills inside of you.
Once again, he flips you both over, and you stay on top of him again, his cock still inside of you. You kiss his neck and rub your hands on his arms while you wait for him to come down. Mingyu grabs your ass, and you know he's partially recovered. So you sit up again, still cock warming him.
When he looks up at you, you can see the admiration in his eyes. Mingyu smiles beautifully, his canines showing up and his orbs shining with something else you can't quite identify.
"I have to ask you something" He says and you smile, indicating he can keep talking. "But I have to get something first... It pains me, but I need you to slip off".
Even full of his cum, you feel empty when Mingyu slides off. The dress you're wearing is all bunched up and wet, so you take it off and throw it on the floor.
"Can you grab my panties?" You ask your husband and he gets one from your bag. He also brings a wet towel from the bathroom and cleans you up before you slide in your fresh panties. When you're both semi-clean and with underwear on, you slide into the fresh Egyptian cotton sheets.
"What did you want to ask me?" You question, feeling a bit anxious.
Mingyu bites his lower lips. He's feeling shy and self-conscious, but he musters the courage to say what he wants. "Well, this night is about celebrating our wedding, right?" You agree. "This past year's been amazing, and I really liked getting to know you better".
"Me too, Gyu" You smile, your heart beating faster.
"I know we agreed to being friends with benefits, but I realized I can't keep going like that." You have a big question mark in your eyes and Mingyu can see it, so he hurries to complete his line of thought. "I can't be friends because I'm down bad. I love you, Y/N. I never expected this to happen, but I do."
You smile and jump him. Your heart's beating like crazy and you're completely at a loss for words. "I love you too, Gyu."
You both kiss in such a soft way, it makes your heart flutter.
Mingyu's smiling widely, once again showing his canines you adore so much. "Well, I think I can ask you what I wanted then".
He pulls a black box from under the pillow, one you didn't even see him placing there. He opens the box and there lies the most beautiful engagement ring. You never really got engaged, since you hated each other back then.
Mingyu takes the ring. "I kept thinking about how I never asked you to marry me. So, will you be my queen? Will you marry me, for real this time?"
"Yes! Yes, yes... God yes!" He places the ring on your finger and you kiss again, this time with more passion.
"My queen" He places a kiss on your cheek, sighing with a dreamy smile. "We're gonna be so happy, I promise".
"I know we will, baby. I'm gonna give my best for it to happen, too".
Then, Mingyu gets up and fills another glass of champagne for you to toast your engagement. You keep talking and exchanging kisses until late hours. You're down bad, but you're sure you don't want to get up.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・
© btsvt-bar, 2024
m.list ♡
885 notes · View notes
gh0stsp1d3r · 3 months
Note
Hiii!! I was wondering if you could do a Luke x f.reader who is a daughter of Hephaestus and basically she’s jealous of the the Aphrodite girls and how Luke seems to take a liking to one of them, and so f.reader tries to change herself a bit to get Luke to notice her but instead one of Apollo son’s does and luke gets jealous. 🫣👀
𝒴ℴ𝓊’𝓇ℯ 𝒷ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓃 𝒽ℯ𝓇
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
I made this longer than it had to be. 😭 so sorry.
Warnings: jealousy, some angst
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You watched him pass by. Your best friend, the boy you’ve had a crush on since you saw him at the camp years ago. When he was just a small, scared, confused little boy.
Usually, he would give you a smile and sit with you. Not today. He was talking with one of the other counselors, one of the Aphrodite girls.
The Aphrodite girls. Most of them were kind, loving. They were beautiful. And you were stuck forging swords, which you loved. But you felt a pang in your heart as you watched him sit down with her instead. She laughed with him about Gods know what.
You stared at them from afar, eating your food as your friends and siblings talked amongst themselves. You would get his attention again. You were determined to.
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You watched over the younger campers, watching them as they hammered and drilled. Your arms were folded, calling out some people and helping them, correcting them.
“It’s good. But it’s dull. Make it less curved , and sharper.” You spoke when one of them handed you a sword they had made. You smiled at them and they nodded, wiping the sweat from their forehead and going back to their station.
“Hey.” Someone said from behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder making you jump slightly. You whipped around, your eyes meeting those brown ones that you knew too well.
“Hi.” You replied, swallowing the lump in your throat and turning back to the kids, facing away from him. The Aphrodite girl.
“Are you alright..?” He asked you, noticing how you seemed off.
“I’m fine.” You said simply, his hand left your shoulder and he frowned.
“I was just wondering if tomorrow you wanted to go to that party at the lake with me. Like… 6?”
You smiled to yourself, covering your face so he couldn’t see and nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”
“I’ll see you later.” He said, a small smile on his own face as he walked away.
Your sibling came up to you, a smirk on her face. “If you don’t just ask him out already…”
“Shut up.” You playfully hit her in the arm, rolling your eyes at the girl.
After watching the kids, you took a shower, and sighed as you flopped down onto your bed, tired from the day. It was dark out, and late.
You fell asleep quickly, and woke up to your sibling shouting something in your face.
“What? What’s wrong?” You grumbled, turning to the side and shutting your eyes again.
“Wake up! You’re gonna be late.”
“Late for what?”
“You’re checking the cabins today, with Luke, remember?”
“Oh. Shit,” you mumbled, sitting up and stretching. You got up, put on some baggier clothes when you had a thought.
That Aphrodite girl.
You would be with Luke for about an hour, why not try to make yourself look presentable? You thought.
You did your hair, brushed your teeth, then grabbing some moisturizer and putting it on your face. You put mascara on, even grabbed a thing of lip gloss, putting it in on and then in your pocket.
You changed your clothes, taking off your hoodie and putting your camp half blood shirt, which you were supposed to have on while checking the rooms.
You looked through your closet, and ended up with a pair of flared jeans instead of the baggy cargos you usually wore when you were with the kids at the work station. You put on a pair of boots that matched and you looked at yourself in a dirty mirror.
You shrugged, and left the cabin. You would be able to show off more, at the party.
You grabbed your clipboard and paper, going up to Luke now.
“You’re late. I already checked mines and Athena’s.”
“Oh yeah? Did yours get a 4 again?” You joked.
“No… we got a 5.” He said. “Which still isn’t good but…”
“That’s shocking.”
He rolled his eyes and laughed. He noticed something different about you. He looked closely at your face as you both walked to the other cabin.
“Are you… wearing mascara?” He said after realizing it. Your pants were different too. He noticed it all.
“Yeah… why?”
“Nothing. Just never seen you do that.” Something was wrong, he knew it. Something in his chest says that something was wrong. You’d told him once you don’t wear that much because your face gets dirty anyways, after forging and even just watching over them.
You shrugged and you both acted like nothing was wrong. Then after a while of checking it was time to head to the Aphrodite ones, the last cabin.
You tensed, and of course, Luke being the most observant, noticed when he looked at you. He put a hand on your shoulder, not knowing what was wrong but trying to bring some comfort anyways.
“Okay.” He breathed out, knocking on the door. All the Aphrodite girls were on their beds, waiting patiently. It was perfect, nothing spilled or a clutter.
The girl you saw Luke with yesterday waved to him. He waved back, giving a small smile. You tried to ignore the tears that started welling in your eyes.
Why were you so jealous?
“It’s a 10.” You spoke up, voice cracking slightly.
He nodded in agreement. You just left the cabin in a rush, you ignored everyone around you as you headed to your cabin.
Why couldn’t he look at you instead?
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You took off your camp shirt, looking through your side in the closet once more. Nothing. There was nothing that could catch his attention in there. It was all dirtied, old, worn-out t-shirts. The party was soon.
"You need help?" Thank the Gods for your sisters.
They all got the best shirts they had. Crop tops, tank tops, baby tees, all of it. The boys ignored it, sitting on their beds and talking.
One that caught your eye was a pink cropped long sleeved shirt, it hugged your body when you put it on, showing your curves. The girls squealed when you came out, they all complimented you.
"I have the best mini skirt for that." One of them said, you quirked an eyebrow.
She handed it to you, and you went back into the bathroom.
"It's adorable!" she said.
It wasn't you, though. It didn't feel right. You just put on a smile as you headed outside.
"I'll kill him if he does anything." One of your brothers mumbled under his breath.
"Stop being overprotective, Alex." One of your siblings rolled her eyes.
It felt odd walking out like that, but you held your head high. Luke was going to walk past, thinking you were just one of the aphrodite girls until he saw your face.
"Y/N?" he asked, he was shocked.
"The one and only." You stopped walking, he stood in front of you.
"You look..."
You were nervous to hear his next words.
"different."
You just nodded. "It's a party, Castellan.
"Sorry. Just not used to it. Shall we go, madam?" he asked, faking a posh accent at the last sentence, his arm extended.
"We shall." You said with the same accent, smile on your face, locking your arm with his as you both walked to the lake.
About an hour or two later you were standing by the lake, your feet dipping into the water as you stared out. He had been talking with the Aphrodite girl again.
Why not you?
You didn’t hear the Apollo kid behind you until he sat next to you, two drinks in his hand.
“Hey.” He said.
“Hi.” Not turning to look at him.
“I was just over there, and I thought you were really… gorgeous.” He said, looking you up and down. “Would you want this?” He asked, handing you a drink. You hesitated but took it.
But he’s not Luke.
You turned now to give him a small smile.
“Thank you.”
“What’s your name?”
You told him your name and he told you his.
“Oscar. After Oscar Wilde.” He said, a small laugh escaping him. You smiled and nodded.
“What are you doing out here alone?”
“I was with a friend but…” you shrugged.
It was soon that Luke had overheard a conversation with some of Oscar’s friends.
“Nah, he’s not here, he’s trying to take some girl to his cabin. Think her name is like, y/n? Some Hephaestus girl.”
Luke glanced over there when he heard that. You were talking with the boy. Oh he was going to kill this guy.
He walked over, fuming as he neared him.
“Luke?” You asked, furrowing an eyebrow as he walked over. Oscar turned around too now, his face flushed as he realized Luke was coming for him.
Luke grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, whispering something in his ear as you tried to get him off.
“Don’t ever come near her again.” Is what he said, dropping him onto the floor, he ran away and back to his friends. Everyone was watching you guys now.
“What?” Luke shouted to them. They quickly turned around.
“Luke, what the hell was that for?!”
“He was trying to…” he began to speak, his anger faded off once he saw the look on your face.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, not sure what else to say.
“Luke, what is wrong?” You asked him. “Did I do something?” Your voice cracked, your eyes welling up again. His own eyes were glossy now.
“No. You didn’t do anything.”
“Then why do you keep leaving me for that Aphrodite girl?”
The truth comes out. He stares at you, confused for a moment.
“Aphrodesia?”
You nodded.
“I… is that why you…?”
“Yes! Luke…”
“I was hanging out with her because I had no clue how to ask you out.” He said with his voice slightly raised, you stood there, feeling guilty.
“Oh.”
“She was telling me how to, giving me ideas. But now I see that I should have just asked.” His words were quiet now.
“I’m sorry.” You mumbled.
“I’m sorry. And the reason for.. that whole thing.” He motioned to the party. “Was that I got jealous. I got jealous, and then I overheard some of his friends saying how he was planning on taking you back to his cabin.”
“I guess we both got jealous.” You said with a small laugh, he smiled and nodded.
“Can I still go out with you?”
You nodded with a smile. “I’d like that.”
“You did look gorgeous tonight.” He told you as he walked you back to your cabin. “But I like you no matter what you wear. You’re gorgeous either way.”
“Thank you.” You said, laughing. “It did feel kind of weird. I don’t think I like it.” You were now in front of your cabin, holding his hand in yours.
You both gazed into each others eyes, when he suddenly spoke up.
“Can I kiss you?”
You were shocked by his question. You didn’t answer and he began to apologize before you cut him off, crashing your lips into his. His hands went straight to your waist.
“You wanna know something?” He asked once your lips left his, voice a whisper.
“Hmm..?” You whispered back.
“You’re better than any of the Aphrodite kids.”
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