#On Sundays She Picked Flowers

[commonplacejournals]

'BONE DEEP DREAD': YAH YAH SCHOLFIELD TALKS AFRO-GOTHIC FILM AND THEIR NEW NOVEL

[prisonhannibal]

Jude and Nemoira from On Sundays She Picked Flowers by @fluoresensitive! Jude made Nemoira that cute blouse and she made it with LOVE!!

If you've followed me for a while you might remember that I did the art for the hardcover version of the book in 2022 (!!! such an exciting and fun project to work on) This was one of the early concepts that we didn't end up using, but I found the sketch and decided to finish it for fun <3 If you still haven't read On Sundays go read it right now! You can buy it here

[luxurypartystuffpack]

judith and nemoira, from 'on sundays she picked flowers'

[r0sebutch]

id from alt text: the hardcover book "On Sundays, She Picked Flowers". the cover features a human silhouette between a dark, verdant forest and a warm, strange house. one of the windows has an enormous hand pressed to the glass, and two others feature eyes looking at the silhouette.

finally finished on sundays. everyone read this book immediately or else. i need to go take like four naps at the same time

[cakeyouareoh]

💕

[digitaldiseas3]

i’m sick of wasting fucking money holy shit. euros must be fuckin cursed for me or something because what the fuck

[vifilms]

firefighter!abby who comes in every sunday morning to your floral shop, tucked in a tiny corner downtown. you’re usually tucked away in the back, doing floral arrangements, calculating your inventory, organizing new shipments, or just avoiding others in general. an introverted nature is ingrained into your bones. so, dina takes over the front counter. she’s sweet, kind enough to engage in conversation. big brown eyes and welcoming smile always seeming to put the customer’s at ease, assessing their needs as they step foot in the door. 

firefighter!abby who comes in on the dot, half-past nine, right before her shift. her build, incredibly toned, clad in black cargos and her seattle fire department t-shirt tucked in. she greets dina with her blinding, pearly white smile. warming her up to the core as dina grabs the assortment that’s ordered every week. yellow roses, white lillies, and peach carnations make their way into the abby’s hands. she thanks dina, with the same somber look in her eyes before she exits with the same bouquet she always does. 

firefighter!abby who is out for the day, cup of coffee in her hand, ellie to her right telling her about the black-haired beauty she met at the local pub. swearing up and down there was a cute friend, supposedly, but it really just sounds like this is her only way in which her friend needs to enlist help from the hunky-blonde for assistance. 

“So, let me get this straight. You met this girl—” 

“Dina.” Abby pauses, blonde eyebrows quirk upwards. “Wait, does she work at a floral shop?” 

“Yes—” Ellie pauses, envy swirling in her emerald eyes immediately, “Fuck, Anderson, do not tell me you’ve fucked her!” 

Abby smirks, wanting to tease her spunky friend. “C’mon, are you fucking serious? No. Shit. Did you really fuck her?” Abby winks as she takes a sip of her black coffee, bicep flexing in the process. 

“Dude. How the hell am I supposed to compete with your greek god  fucking biceps?” Ellie lifts up the sleeve of her shirt, comparing her much smaller arms to Abby’s very toned and thick muscle. Even Abby’s veins are more prominent than hers. 

Abby giggles, “First off, you can’t but you don’t have to…this time. I just buy flowers from there and everyone kinda knows everyone. It’s Jackson.” 

“Oh, thank god. You had me worried there for a second. Jesus.” Ellie nudges her shoulder, picking at her naibeds anxiously. “So, will you come so you can meet her friend?” 

Abby thinks for a moment. How bad could it be? It’s just one night, right? 

firefighter!abby who comes to the flower shop on a saturday this time. the doorbell rings signaling her entrance, but she doesn’t find dina working the counter like she normally does. you’re someone new, someone she hasn’t seen before, someone beautiful. so much so, she feels as if her feet have been glued to the hardwood floors. dear god, she looks like a goddamn idiot. she’s thankful you’re helping someone as abby tries to break from her caulking spell. 

firefighter!abby who takes note of how attentive you are with the customers even if your body fidgets as you help them but then you smile, it makes her melt. anderson, get yourself together, you have a date tonight. it’s just one, incredibly beautiful girl. you’re fine. she’s fine. before her brain can make one more stupid thought, you’re walking up to her. 

You smell of lavender, it coats Abby’s senses as you make a beeline for her. It could be the shop or it could be you. She believes it’s you. 

“Afternoon, is there something I can help you with?” You ask, Abby reads the name tag on your chest and musters up somewhat of a coherent sentence. You start making the arrangement for her, it’s then she notices how familiar it is. 

It isn’t the flowers she typically chooses, the one she orders through the website of the shop, but the craftsmanship is identical. Down to the yellow ribbon to wrap it neatly, keeping the specially made bouquet in place. 

Abby’s blue eyes must light up with wonder because you smile, it's soft as it slips out of you, too quick for you to hide behind the wall you usually keep yourself within. 

“Um, you make all the arrangements here, right?” Anxiously, you dust your hands on the maroon apron tied around your waist. 

“Yeah, I would hope so. It’s my shop.” You’re not boastful about it, or snarky, it’s sweet. As if you’re proud and you should be. 

“Oh, sorry! I hope you don’t take it the wrong way. I just, um—” Speak blondie, you��re making a fool of yourself. “ I come here every week and have just never seen you before s’all. It’s nice to match the wonderful shop to the even prettier owner.” 

Abby wonders why she doesn’t ask for your number or even try to. She’s not exactly a stranger to beautiful women. When she knows what she wants, she’s like a dog with a bone. Never has she ever halted, or had someone stop her dead in her tracks without even trying. 

In her mind, she’s finding excuses. It’s the sun’s fault for letting the light hit your eyes perfectly, saturating the color even further. Or the way she obsesses over your curves, or the joy seeming to radiate every time you smile. 

It can’t be any of those little things. 

Abby fishes for the wallet in her jacket pocket, before handing you her card, you finalize the transaction before handing the silver card back to her. Calloused fingertips press against yours, much softer than Abby’s, but it excites the two of you. 

Not that either of you spoke a word of it. 

“You’re girlfriend’s a lucky girl. It’s a thoughtful gesture—” but your eyes build a fright in them, a horror that you can’t take back. “I’m sorry! Oh my god. I didn’t mean to just, fuck, assume you had a girlfriend or that you’re into girls. Jesus, I don’t know what came over me. God.” 

Abby bites down a smirk as you anxiously beat your nail on the countertop as if you ruined the interaction. Impatiently needing this to be over. 

“S’okay, really, you didn’t assume wrong.” Mischievous pools of blue look you up and down, pointed canines kissing her pink lips as they bite at the flesh. 

“I don’t have a girlfriend. Well—” Abby leans over placing her palm against yours, her fingertips linger on your skin, setting it ablaze. Releasing your grip of the bouquet and palming the wrapped flowers in her firm grasp.

“Not yet.” 

lmk what you think! hope you enjoyed it! ♡

[starryhyuck]

green gables. (m) — PREVIEW

pairing: e2l!jaemin x afab!reader

words: 22.9k+

summary: your search for a family lands you at green gables, where you learn to adapt to the new challenges that come your way.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: takes place in the late 19th century, mentions of death, mentions of bullying, bigdick!jaemin, creampies, fingering

release date: march 26, 2025

inspired by anne of green gables, anne of avonlea, anne of green gables (1985), anne of avonlea (1987), anne with an e

this fic is already released for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!

“You have to be the one. There’s no way I’m getting in that boat!”

“You’re such a coward, Soeun.”

“Then why don’t you try it, Sookyung?”

“You’re all ruining the vision,” you scold, gripping a handful of daisies. “We’re supposed to be girls who have been widowed by our one true love. We’ve succumbed to our tragedy, accepting our fate by floating out into the river, where the Earth will decide how to dispose of our bodies.”

Ever since Soeun’s uncle passed away shortly after the new year and the poem you’re reading for your book club discusses the fate of a widowed bride, you’ve all become obsessed with glamorizing death. In the poem, the girl sealed her devastating fate by climbing into a boat, holding a bouquet of flowers, and drifting away into the night. She was never heard from or seen again.

The girls insisted on recreating the moment, leading you to the lake. Hyojung borrowed a small canoe from her father and Sookyung picked the flowers from her mother’s yard. However, once you got to the final step, all of them chickened out of actually playing the role of the widow.

“I’ll be her,” you proclaim, and they exhale in relief. “But you must say the lines, and with fervor. It’s only right that we recreate the scene exactly. Wait for me at the other side of the river.”

With help from Hyojung, you step into the canoe, laying down as you rest your hands over your chest. You close your eyes when Soeun begins the rehearsed dialogue.

“Sister, farewell forever,” she murmurs, throwing dried flower petals over your form.

“Farewell, sweet sister.”

“And she lay as though she smiled,” Hyojung finishes, giving a small push to the canoe.

You start floating down the river, exactly like the poem describes. You marvel at the solitude, listening to the birds chirping in your ear. It’s all straight out of a novel if you’ve ever read it, but it’s abruptly disrupted by a stream of water soaking your dress.

You shriek, eyes popping wide open as you sit up. Water continues to fill the boat, progressing fast enough where you understand you won’t possibly make it to the other side. As you come up to the nearby bridge, you quickly grasp the foothold, holding onto it tightly as the canoe sinks.

You hear the girls begin to scream loudly when they don’t see you return. You ponder on if they’ll get help and save you from this uncomfortable experience, but another boat slowly comes up beside you.

Na Jaemin says your name with amusement. “I must say, I did not expect to find you here on my Sunday afternoon.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you going to just sit there or help me like a gentleman?”

He laughs before extending his hand. You take it gratefully, stepping into his boat. You sit across from him, drenched from head to toe. You cross your arms over your chest and don’t utter a single word to him.

“So you’re not going to explain-”

���No,” you gruffly reply. “But I am very much obliged to you.”

He sighs. “I don’t want you to feel obliged to me. Can’t we be friends already? You know I was only joking with you on your first day. I didn’t mean to mock you by calling you a princess, even if I think you look exactly like one. Let’s forgive and forget, please.”

You stare at his hopeful countenance, remembering how kind he was to you over the holidays. You also craved his cookies for weeks after, resisting the urge to walk over to his house and ask for another batch.

“Fine. Friends. And friends only.”

He beams at you, grinning widely. He begins to row the boat back to shore, and you avoid his inquisitive gaze. The girls are in hysterics when you arrive, pulling you out and hugging you tightly.

“We thought you had drowned and died,” Hyojung sobs into your shoulder. “It wasn’t romantic at all! Nothing like the poem.”

You assure them with gentle pats, and Jaemin anchors the boat to the dock. Soeun perks up when she sees him.

“Oh Jaemin, were you the one who saved her? A true knight in shining armor, indeed!”

He nods. “I’m happy to help.” The girls move to take you away and leave Jaemin and Soeun on their own, but he clears his throat to stop you. He addresses you by calling your name before questioning, “B-Before you go, I wanted to ask if you had any plans for Valentine’s Day.”

Hyojung and Sookyung’s jaws drop while Soeun acts as if someone just stabbed her in the back.

You stutter. “I- That’s- I’m not-”

“She’s going to my Aunt Nayoung’s annual Valentine’s party. You should come too, Jaemin. It’s at her big mansion in the city,” Hyojung invites.

You shoot her a bewildered look while he replies, “Are you sure? I wouldn’t be imposing?”

“Of course not. She would be happy to have you.”

He smirks. “Perfect. I’ll be there. Now if you ladies don’t mind, I have to get back to fishing.”

When he drifts away in his boat, Soeun stomps away from you, grumbling to herself. Sookyung throws you an apologetic look before following after her. You pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation.

“What was that?” You bark at your best friend. “How dare he ask me that in front of everyone like- like-”

“Like he likes you?” Hyojung finishes.

You glare at her, still soaked from the lake. “No. And how could you invite him to your aunt’s party? You know I haven’t even asked Ilkyung if I can go yet.”

“She’ll let you, come on,” Hyojung insists as she helps you trudge back to Green Gables. “If not, I’ll have my mother convince her. Plus, how can you not see how head over heels Jaemin is for you? That boy looks at you constantly and Christmas? Don’t even get me started. His house is miles from here, there was no other reason for him to stop by than to see you.”

“I won’t let you go on any longer. I have never harbored any affection for Na Jaemin and I never will. Have you forgotten about my dreams, Hyojung? I don’t want to be the wife and mother. I want to write and teach and earn enough income so that Ilkyung and Ilnam can retire comfortably.”

“Silly girl,” she murmurs as she nudges you playfully. “You can have all of that and Na Jaemin too.”

want to read the rest of this fic now? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!

[chrisevansonly]

Extra Special (Lando’s Poppy AU)

lando norris x female reader

summary: lando’s just won another grand prix and his baby girl couldn’t be more excited

warnings: none very cute and fluffy

a/n: i know i’ve been slacking but i hope you all enjoy this, it was requested and it’s a little small but i really wanted to get something out 😭🩷

You’d watched the race on the flatscreen in the living room with Poppy cuddled into your side, she loved watching her dad race on Sundays and seeing him pop up on the big screen during interviews.

They were racing in Saudi Arabia, and Lando had been having a brilliant race, after qualifying with pole position, he’d managed to win the race ahead of Max Verstappen, or uncle Max as he called himself.

“Poppy my love! Daddy won!”

The six month giggled and clapped her hands as she watched the screen, the perfect time for you to take your phone out, just as Lando arrived for his post race interview.

“Who’s that my love hmm? Is that Daddy?”

You panned the camera from the TV over to Poppy who was a smiley mess, within a few seconds she pointed at the screen

“Dada!”

The first thing that ran through you was shock, Poppy had just said her first word, and you’d caught it on camera.

“What did you say baby?!”

Picking her up and kissing her cheek she babbled again before patting your shoulder as her eyes moved back to stare at Lando

“Dada!!”

“Yeah baby! That’s dada!! Oh he’s going to be so sad he missed this!!”

Kissing her cheeks a few more times you sat back down with her and sent the video off to Lando. It wasn’t until a little while later that he facetimed you, his expression was priceless

“Tell me that video was real”

“It was real my love..”

Lando’s hand swiped over his face as you turned the phone to Poppy who smiled

“Hi petal, did you say your first word?!”

“Dada!!”

She squealed happily and you swore you could see his eyes start to shine with happy tears

“Holy shit..god-i don’t even know what to say”

You cooed as your husband shook his head before blinking a few times

“Well I don’t want to cry before the podium, but I’m coming home to you two right after this..and fuck I can’t wait to hear her say that in person…”

“We love you very much baby and are so so proud of you…get home safely”

Lando nodded before blowing both of you a kiss

“I love you both so much, i’ll be home soon.”

Poppy reached for the phone and tried to put the camera in her mouth, obviously trying to kiss her father goodbye, which earned a laugh from Lando before the facetime ended.

“My sweet Poppy you made daddy’s race extra special”

She might not have understood what you said, but you’d never miss the way her eyes lit up at the mention of Lando, she really was his little flower, the two of them having such an inseparable bond.

You couldn’t even be upset she didn’t say mama first, because Lando’s reaction was worth more than anything in the world.

[celaenaeiln]

JL: Nightwing! It’s a delight to see you! You should come by more often.

Nightwing: Thank you! I’m so sorry, work has been piling up on me but I’ll try to drop by the office party this Sunday.

JL: Ofcourse! Looking forward to seeing you there. By the way, is Batman coming late?

Nightwing: No, I’ll be filling in for him today.

JL: Did something happen?

Nightwing: Nothing much, he’s just grounded.

JL: ???

48 hours earlier

Dick: Bruce, I’m telling you now and we’ve had this conversation before but you need to build a better rapport with your children. They look up to you as a father figure and your actions influence their behavior.

Bruce: …hmrgh

Dick: And you might not be aware but you unconconscious behavior is damaging. Tim has picked up your terrible habit of constantly working in front of a screen-it’s going to strain his eyes. He’s always inside too, so you need to make him go outside more. I’m not always here, I have an entire city to run, the titans need me, I'm mentoring hundreds of heroes, the Justice League calls on me to help them, and I need to keep up with my social life. The people in Bludhaven where I teach and work also call me if I’m gone for a day-the point is-I can’t always be playing second parent here in Gotham.

Bruce: ……hmrgh

Dick: Damian always looks up to you

Bruce: *side eyes*

Dick: He does! See you don’t even realize it! He wants to make you proud and Jason gets mad when you don’t make time for him because he cares too. Stephanie doesn’t have a dad she can turn to and it would mean the world to her if you took her out to an amusement park or something. When was the last time you spent time with her.

Bruce: ….hmrgh

Dick: And-

1 hour later

Dick: -that’s why you need to stop working, go to them right now, and bond with them.

Bruce:

Dick:

Bruce: ……...hmrgh

Dick: I’m waiting.

Bruce: *dragging himself off the batcave chair and begrudgingly trudging upstairs under Dick’s watchful eye*

Bruce: *listening to the sounds of his kids in the living room and pumping himself up* Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. And Dick. Do it for him.

Bruce: *entering* *clearing his throat* Children. We will be going-

*The living room is in utter chaos. The cushions are strewn and ripped with stuffing coating the couches and floor which for some reason is stained yellow, the flower vase is shattered and so is the table it was sitting on, there’s string confetti on the chandelier, there’s spray paint and neon goo across the walls and in Tim’s hair, Jason has deep claw marks down his face as he wrestles with Damian who’s sporting massive bruise on his cheek and trying his hardest to bite him, Stephanie is dunking Tim’s face in a tub of soda which splashed everywhere while he’s ripping out Jason’s hair and also trying to kick Damian with his foot, the tv has massive spiderwebs and looping on tellatubies like a broken record machine, Titus is spitting out a feather while a random goose runs around honking while Alfred the cat chases after it at full speed, knocking down decades old paintings.*

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce: *rolling up his sleeves and stomping forward to join the fight* HMRGH.

[reidrum]

hi lil headcanon: can’t stop thinking about how Spence sees the worst of humanity and lots of violence for his job so when he comes home to you he is extra gentle and savors your goodness and cherishes doing mundane things with you- tidying up and listening to his music, going on walking dates, holding you close literally always- he is extra protective of his beacon of peace and hope in humanity :,)

this is so post prison spencer coded

(i yapped again im so sorry)

following his release spencer reid would struggle to return to normalcy for some time after his whole life was turned upside down for months but the pockets of peace he creates with you he finds are essential to his well being.

your spencer reid wakes up early on the rare saturday mornings he has off making sure you’re still sleeping and sneaks off to the kitchen to make breakfast that will soon wake you up in a few hours with the wafting smell of waffles and coffee. he dons a ‘kiss the chef’ apron you ironically got for him that he unironically treasures deeply as he finishes plating the spread on the tray and bringing it back to the room.

maybe on saturday mornings you always go to the farmers market and you always buy a fresh bouquet of flowers because having them on sunday makes for a good omen for the coming week. and even on the saturdays spencer reid can’t be there you send pictures of the bouquet you picked out that day and it makes his heart so so happy. his favorite thing is when he tells you the significance of different flowers and they show up in the bunch the week after. if one day you don’t go to the farmers market or there just isn’t a bouquet in the house that day spencer reid absolutely cannot have that and so he goes out on his own curating the perfect bouquet of flowers because he’ll be damned if you don’t have your flowers!

i think he would also encourage you to ramble as much as he does because he loves hearing you talk, even if he knows nothing about it or it doesn’t make sense. like for someone who loves info dumping and telling people cool facts, spencer reid is much quieter around you because hearing you talk especially about things you love is so so special to him. he would trade his voice like ariel in the little mermaid if it meant he could hear you talk on and on about anything and everything for the rest of his life.

and like, because this is spencer reid there will be a time that something happens to you because of what he does (alexa play peace), kinda similar to matt and kristy when she’s held hostage at her work or derek and savannah when she gets shot. hotch has to physically keep him away from the scene because he’d be so close to losing it and risking everything by going solo but who can blame him when you, the other half of him that the prophecies say you’d spend your whole lives searching for but he was fortunate and grateful enough to find you so soon, could get hurt. he would harbor the same guilt hotch feels dating anyone after haley because after maeve spencer reid refuses to let anything take you away from him, but here he is putting you in a situation he caused because an unsub he put away has a grievance to settle.

and eventually you’re safe and back in the apartment with spencer reid and he’s just. in crisis mode. because he genuinely is not sure if he can handle something like that happening to you again. but he’s not even sure how to prevent that from ever happening. and he’s so proud of you for how brave you’re trying to be but it’s breaking his heart entirely to watch you do that for him, and he’s so sure he does not deserve your grace at all. so it’s not even a hard decision when he decides to increase his university teaching hours and step away from the bau just to be with you more.

because now you and spencer reid have more time to make flower bouquets at the farmers market every week. he’s bucket listed every museum up and down the eastern coast and fully intends on finishing it before the year ends. he carries a little trial size vial of your perfume in his satchel whenever he misses you a little too much, even when you’re just in the other room. spencer reid wants nothing more than to live a simple life with you, and after the world has dealt him too many bad cards, he’s more than grateful to get to hold these little moments of you close to mend his bruised heart.

[pedroscurls]

HUGH JACKMAN MASTERLIST.

18+ only, mdni! you can find all of the hugh jackman characters i've written so far below the cut. please note that majority of the stories contain (or will eventually have) smut and all stories are fem!reader, no use of y/n.

🌶️ - smut ❤️‍🩹 - angst 🥰 - fluff

LOGAN HOWLETT

HUGH JACKMAN (real person fanfiction)

🌶️ ❤️‍🩹 🥰 training partners: you hire a new personal trainer to get you back on track, but you don't realize that she's also hugh jackman's trainer until you show up to the gym. ↳ pt 1. - pt 2. - pt. 3 - pt. 4 - pt. 5 - pt. 6 - pt. 7 - pt. 8 - pt. 9 - pt. 10 - pt. 11 - pt. 12 - pt. 13 - pt. 14 - pt. 15 - pt. 16 - pt. 17

requests:

🌶️ ❤️‍🩹 secret crushes: you've known hugh for years, having not only a personal friendship with him, but also a professional one. then, ryan decides to play matchmaker unbeknownst to you or hugh. ↳ pt. 1 (can be read as a standalone) - pt. 2 (which includes blake and ryan with reader!)

🌶️ sneak away with me: you sneak away with hugh during a party.

🌶️ welcome to broadway: it's the anniversary of oklahoma! and with it being your first broadway show, hugh takes you under his wing to show you the ropes. along the way, you realize that you've developed feelings for him.

🌶️ 🥰 baby, stay in bed: head over heels in love with hugh, you spend the night for the first time... and realize that hugh feels the same way.

🌶️ save a horse, ride a cowboy: hugh takes you to go flower picking, but all you can think about is taking him back to his car and riding him.

🥰 let the world know: you and hugh have been keeping your relationship a secret... until hugh accidentally lets millions of his followers know exactly who he's been dating.

🥰 cooking with hugh: hugh gets to see you in action... and he reaps the benefits too.

🥰 the first date: hugh takes you out for your first date.

🥰 sunday nights: sunday nights with hugh are your favorite -- movie night, cuddling, and finally some alone time with him.

🌶️ 🥰 romantic getaway: hugh takes you to greece for a romantic getaway after rumors of your relationship with him start to circulate the media... but there's no hiding it anymore.

🥰 first impressions: hugh meets your kids for the first time.

🥰 bad influence: already running late for work, hugh convinces you to call in sick.

🥰 mesmerized from afar: despite your relationship with hugh being out in the open, you both still do your best to keep it professional in the public eye... until hugh makes it very obvious during a hollywood event.

🌶️ 🥰 our little secret: ryan and blake try to set you and hugh up, but little do they know, you've already been secretly seeing each other.

🌶️ you put a spell on me: hugh attends a masquerade-themed party and you capture his attention the moment you step into the building.

🥰 seasons changing: hugh and reader get ready for fall in new york.

🌶️ late to the party: possibly already late to ryan and blake's party, hugh becomes just slightly annoyed when you can't decide what to wear... and when he realizes that you're doing it on purpose, he only knows one way to make sure you don't do it again.

❤️‍🩹 better together: after filming finishes with deadpool & wolverine, your relationship with hugh progresses... until he breaks things off with you. it isn't until ryan invites you to the press tour that you see him again and finally have a serious conversation with him.

❤️‍🩹 🥰 in the shadows: hugh's excited to see you at his premiere, but when he sees the look on your face when he's posing with one of his co-stars, he's confused because you decide to leave without a word.

[wosola]

French kisses .2 - Lucy Bronze x French!Reader

Summary: This is during Lucy Bronze’s time playing for Lyon, she's just gotten into a relationship with R, a 22-year-old student. For R it is the first time sleeping with someone.

Warnings: This is an 18+ fanfic with explicit content, so minors DNI.

Part 1 here.

It was only a few days ago, but Sunday felt like a lifetime away as you recalled how your parents had adored Lucy. You remembered how Lucy had picked you up that Sunday, looking stunning in an outfit you hadn't seen before. She had arrived a full ten minutes early, a small smile on her face as she told you that punctuality was key.

You re envisioned the way your mom’s eyes sparkled when Lucy walked in with a bouquet of flowers, the perfect way to win her over; your mom loved flowers. "Pour toi," Lucy had exclaimed with a warm smile, her accent adorably imperfect as she stumbled over a few words in French.

Your dad had been equally impressed when Lucy handed him a bottle of expensive whiskey, having confirmed with you just the day before if it was an appropriate gift to give him. “I heard this is your favorite,” she’d said, her voice unexpectedly confident as she raised the bottle.

You adored the way she’d won your parents over. You where glad your parents where this welcoming, that they just wanted to see you happy, because you knew it was often not as pleasant for people to bring a same-sex partner home.

It was clear Lucy had learned everything she wanted to say in French, she’d probably rehearsed every potential compliment and conversational quip, ready for the moment she needed it. It worked though and in some strange way it made you fall more in love with her.

You felt a swell of pride watching her engage with your parents, laughing and sharing stories that bridged the gap between her world and yours. It was so nice to finally been able to bring someone home. Maybe it would be the only person you would ever bring home to your parents, because she was the love of your life.

Safe to say it had been a great success and the next dinner had already been planned before the two of you had left.

-

Now it was Thursday; the day you’d been waiting for. It was the day.

Your apartment was cozy, located near the university and just the right size for you and your roommate. It was great you could live there, as your parents lived outside the city, in such a rural place that buses didn't even dare to go near there.

The living room was a mix of mismatched furniture; a well-loved couch, a small coffee table cluttered with textbooks and half-finished mugs of coffee and a tiny kitchen that smelled faintly of whatever you’d cooked that week.

Earlier this morning, your roommate had teased you mercilessly about Lucy. “You’re glowing! I swear, it’s like you’ve got stars in your eyes,” she had said with a playful smirk, knowing you hated that kind of soppy stuff. But beneath the teasing, you sensed her genuine happiness for you, knowing you had found someone you really really liked and who liked you equally as much.

As you came back after classes that day, your roommate had left, spending the night at her boyfriend’s place. Leaving the space feeling oddly quiet yet filled with the thrill of anticipation.

So you had thrown yourself into preparation mode. You changed the bed sheets. You scrubbed the countertops and vacuumed the floors, wanting everything to feel just right.

Then came the shower, you put yourself through an extensive cleansing ritual, lingering for way too long under the jets, letting the hot water cascade down your back like a soothing embrace. Because besides wanting to feel clean, you where also nervous quite nervous.

Deciding what to wear was another challenge in itself. You tried on three different outfits, each time pulling everything off again and tossing it aside in frustration. Finally, you settled on a simple yet elegant outfit that hugged your figure perfectly, something that made you feel confident and beautiful.

As you stood in front of the mirror, taking one last look at yourself, you couldn’t shake the excitement mixed with a touch of anxiety. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that it was just Lucy. The doorbell rang, pulling you from your thoughts and you knew the evening was about to begin.

Lucy showed up at your apartment with two bags in hand, insisting that you must not peek inside. “It’s a surprise amour,” she had declared, a mischievous twinkle in her eye that only made your heart race faster.

After exchanging a kiss, Lucy walked over to the kitchen and you stood there unsure of what to do. You watched as she moved things from one bag to another, a hint of excitement bubbling in your chest.

Finally, she spoke up, her voice cheerful. “Alright, love, if you want to unpack these things, it’s for dinner. I’ll just duck into your room for a bit and try to be quick, okay?”

She approached you again, planting another kiss on your lips and you smiled back at her, feeling warmth spread through you at her demeanor. “Don’t come peeking…” she joked, pulling you in for another kiss.

You broke the kiss and chuckled, “I wont,” waving her off as she disappeared down the hallway.

As you busied yourself in the kitchen, the anticipation of the night filled the air. You draped a dark red tablecloth over the coffee table, setting down all the different food Lucy had brought. You couldn’t believe your eyes as you uncovered the dishes. It was almost like a tapas table, but then all of your favorite things from different traiteurs. The logo from your favorite fromagerie was unmistakable on one of the little brown bags and your heart raced; you rarely treated yourself to these luxuries. Lucy had gone out of her way to buy all of it.

After placing down glasses and cutlery you only needed plates, so you walked back to the kitchen.

Lucy softly closed the bedroom door, as she was done setting things up and walked over to you. Coming up behind you, she placed a soft kiss on your neck.

You tensed momentarily but quickly relaxed into her touch. Your nerves were on high alert because of your nervousness. But you liked how she held you, her touch sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

“Ah, at the coffee table?” she asked, a surprised tone in her voice.

“Yeah,” you admitted sheepishly. “I thought it would feel.. less formal. We can change it if you want, but I thought… cozy?”

“It’s perfect,” Lucy assured you, her eyes gleaming with appreciation. “Perfectly us.”

You turned to face her, taking in the beauty of her features; her bright eyes, the gentle curve of her lips and the way her smile seemed to light up your kitchen. This was the face you had grown to love, the face you wanted to see first thing in the morning and the last thing before drifting off to sleep. You leaned in slowly, noticing how she tilted her head to meet you halfway, not taking the lead as she would usually do. The kiss was soft, filled with the promise you both felt lingering.

“Are you nervous?” Lucy asked quietly, pulling back slightly to gauge your expression.

“Uhm… I have nerves, but I’m mostly excited, I think,” you replied, your gaze dropping to where you absentmindedly played with her fingers, tracing their robust form.

“Well, I just wanted to say,” Lucy began, reaching up with her free hand to tilt your chin, ensuring you met her gaze. “If you want to stop at any time, you can always say so. I… uh, nothing will change between us if that happens, okay? For you, I would wait a hundred years if that’s what you need.”

You chuckled softly, your heart swelling at her words. Leaning in, you kissed her again, savoring the taste of her lips. “I love you.”

‘’I love you too,’’ with a smile on her face, Lucy gestured toward the food on the coffee table. “Okay, let’s eat then, I have searched all of your favorites, maybe I missed some I don’t know, I hope not but I-.”

You interrupted her, smiling ‘’are you nervous?’’ You asked her, hearing her rambling.

She scratched her neck, biting her lip. ‘’I want this to be perfect, for you.’’

‘’It is Lucy, don’t worry,’’ you took her hand as you took two plates in your other hand and pulled her to the couch.

After setting the plates down you settled down on the couch.

Lucy followed, settling beside you, she leaned forward to open the bottle of rosé crémant. You’d once mentioned liking it better than champagne and it made you smile that she’d remembered. You knew she hadn’t chosen it because it was less expensive but because it was what you preferred. It was something you loved about her, Lucy wasn’t just listening; she cared.

After filling your glasses, she handed one to you and raised hers to clink. You watched her, catching the slight hesitation as she searched for the right words to toast.

You chuckled and stepped in to help, saying what felt like the obvious toast “to us.” Your gaze locked with hers, and you tapped your glass to hers.

"To us," she repeated softly, her eyes meeting yours with a smile before she took a sip.

After that, the two of you eagerly started digging in to the food.

Lucy stacked her plate and sat back on the couch “Mmm, this is amazing.´´ she said with her mouth full. ´´I love all the food you’ve introduced me to in France.”

You laughed. “I could give you a dried-out baguette and you’d still enjoy it.”

Lucy rolled her eyes, nudging you with her elbow. “Not true. I have taste. Great taste, even.”

“I know, I was just teasing you.” You leaned in close, a playful glint in your eye. “Sorry,” you whispered, stopping just inches from her face.

She smiled, tilting her head even closer. “Hmm… I think you’ll have to make it up to me.”

You let your lips brush against hers, the anticipation crackling in the air. “And how exactly should I do that?” you said, taking the plate off of her and blindly put it back on the coffee table.  

“Maybe a kiss.” Her words were soft, lingering just against your lips before she captured them fully, her mouth warm and inviting. The kiss deepened, her hand slipping around your waist, drawing you in against her. You let go, sinking into the kiss, savoring the way her fingers grazed the small of your back. Shivering as her hands cupped your ass, fingers digging in, urging you even closer.

Without breaking away, you shifted onto her lap, you gasped softly as her hands found their way to your hips, holding you as she carefully flipped you both, positioning you between her and the couch. Your legs wrapped instinctively around her and you could feel her weight balanced on her forearms bracketing against you, her feet slipping on the smooth floor as she struggled to hold herself steady.

But none of that seemed to matter. The only thing that mattered was the feeling of her pressed against you, how her hips moving against yours, the barely restrained hunger in her touch. Her lips traced along your jaw, pressing against your neck in a way that sent chills across your skin. Each soft grind sent ripples of electricity through you, your breaths becoming shallow as you felt yourself getting unsteady.

Your fingers curled into her shirt as her lips moved softly along your neck, the sound of her low hum sending a rush of heat through you. Then, just as suddenly, Lucy seemed to become aware of something, pulling back to look at you, her gaze hazy and unfocused, like she’d just come back down to earth.

You smiled, biting your lip, your legs tightening around her, holding her close.

She gave you a breathless smile, leaning in to kiss you again, this time softer, a little more composed. "Uhm, we should continue eating, hm?" she murmured, her voice laced with both amusement and hesitation.

"Well.. I’m not that hungry anymore," you replied, eyes locked with hers. Your heart tutted loudly in your chest. Your cheeks felt burning hot and you ached for something. You didn´t know what for, but you where wanting.

Lucy´s cheeks tinged pink, but she managed to keep her gaze steady. "Okay," she breathed, though there was a flicker of unsteadiness there.

Noticing it, you chuckled, slowly loosening your legs from around her. "But we can eat, " you teased, ‘’if you are hungry…"

Lucy’s mouth curved into a mischievous grin. "Oh, I’m hungry,´´ she murmured in a low, playful growl, ´´but not for the food" sweeping you up into her arms.

You giggled, letting yourself melt into her hold as she carried you down the hall.

When you reached your bedroom, she set you back down just before the door, gesturing grandly. "After you."

Stepping inside, you smiled. Your bedroom was transformed; the curtains were closed, a soft glow of dozens of candles casting warm, flickering light everywhere, their soft glow enveloping you both. The bed was covered in rose petals, arranged in the shape of a heart.

"It’s beautiful, Luce," you murmured, touched. "You put so much effort into this."

She shook her head modestly, glancing away. "No, it’s really nothing, I just wanted to—"

You turned back to her with a chuckle. "The candles are fake, I hope?"

Lucy laughed, scratching the back of her neck as she joined you in the room. "Oh, yeah. I figured it was… safer… and you know, I could put them on already."

You nodded and closed the space between you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips, wordlessly letting her know just how much everything meant to you.

Lucy held your gaze for a moment, eyes soft before she took your hand, leading you gently toward the bed.

The room felt warm as you stepped inside, the soft glow of candles casting flickering shadows on the walls. You turned toward Lucy, feeling the quiet electricity in the air between you both.

There was a heartbeat of silence, a moment where the two of you just looked at each other, taking in this instant you’d both waited for.

Lucy broke the silence first, her fingers brushing over your cheek, down to your jaw and pausing there as her eyes searched yours. Her gaze was soft, maybe a little nervous but entirely steady, holding a depth of care that made you feel like you were the only thing in the world she could see. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered, her voice thick with quiet awe.

A shy smile tugged at your lips, and you stepped closer, letting your fingers find the hem of her shirt. “Can I…?” you asked softly, meeting her gaze, asking without words if this was all right.

Lucy nodded, her hands finding their way to your waist, fingers light as though she were both carefull and eager all at once. You began to lift the fabric, inching it upward, feeling a heady mixture of nerves and excitement that made your fingers tremble.

As her shirt lifted, more of her skin was revealed in the warm candlelight and you let out a soft, almost breathless laugh. “You’re… hmm,” you murmured, not able to hide the excitement in your voice.

She chuckled softly, helping you remove her shirt.

Once her shirt was off, you let your fingertips trail slowly along her arms, feeling the curve of her bicep, your touch reverent as if she were something precious, almost sacred. She stayed still, watching you with parted lips, her breathing just a bit heavier then usual.

Your hand continued down over her shoulder and chest, tracing lightly as you went, feeling the defined muscle under soft skin. Fingers sliding over the line of her collarbone, pausing briefly at her chest before continuing downward to her stomach. Your fingertips brushed over the lines of her abs, feeling the strength there. She shivered under your touch.

Her own hands found the buttons of your shirt in response, looking at you for approval and after you nodded she took a steadying breath before unbuttoning them, her eyes never leaving you as more of your skin was revealed. She was quiet, reverent almost, as though seeing you this way was something that left her breathless.

And there you stood, inches apart, taking each other in. The hunger was there, palpable, but so was the sweetness, the awe, as though you were both seeing something rare and precious—something you wanted to savor.

Her lips found yours again, the kiss deepening as she guided you backward, her hands brushing over your shoulders and sides. When you reached the edge of the bed, she swept the rose petals aside with a quick swipe. She lowered you carefully onto the bed and you tugged her down with you.

With a quiet breath, you reached back to unclip your bra, letting the straps slide down your shoulders. Lucy watched closely, her gaze warm and attentive. She gently slipped the bra off for you, tossing it aside without her eyes leaving your chest.

You whispered her name, wanting her attention, ‘’Luce’’.

She lifted her head, searching your eyes with a slight smile.

"Take yours off too?" you asked, almost shyly.

She nodded immediately. “Of course.” She sat up slightly and tugged off her own bra, letting it fall to the floor as well before leaning back over you, her bare chest now in your view. Your gaze lingered, appreciating every detail, your lips parting slightly as you took in the softness and beauty of her skin, her hardened nipples inviting your touch.

Seeing you captivated, Lucy gently took your hands in hers, smirking a little as she guided them to her chest. She laced her fingers through yours, encouraging you to cup her breasts, your palms brushing over the sensitive peaks. You gave a gentle squeeze, feeling the heat of her skin against your hands, still entranced by her body.

Lucy’s smile softened as she took in your focused expression. “Feels good?” she asked amused.

“Mhm,” you murmured, still in a bit of a daze before you blinked, meeting her eyes. “Yeah.”

..

part 3 next monday

[p0orbaby]

Spring

summary: the biggest challenge you and Alexia have had to face

warnings: child loss, grief

a/n: this is pretty fucking sad so I’m sorry in advance

word count: 2.4k

-

It was written in the stars, you thought.

Aligned with the season of fresh starts and soft breezes. Sunny evenings and cups of tea sipped on the back porch as the birds sing their morning chorus.

Aurelia, golden like the sun. Silvio, strong and steady.

Either would be fine. Either would be perfect. As long as they had Alexia’s eyes and her determination to make the world a better place, you’d be happy.

The days leading up to the birth were a blur of last-minute tasks and impatient preparations. Nights were spent lying in bed, imagining the future. First steps in the garden, lazy Sunday mornings filled with laughter, and the simple joy of watching your child grow. Each conversation was a step further into the dream you both held dear for so long.

One evening, as the sky blazed with the colors of sunset, you and Alexia sat together outside. Garden chairs close and knees touching. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sounds of the neighborhood settling into the evening. You felt the world around you slowing down, relaxing.

As though the earth was taking a break just for the two of you.

One last moment of peace.

-

It was that night that there was a shift.

One you’d been waiting for for nine months.

You woke with a start, a sharp pain cutting through the haze of sleep. Alexia was beside you in an instant, her eyes wide with concern and excitement both. The contractions had begun, each one marking the imminent arrival of your baby. The room seemed to hum with anticipation as the two of you prepared to leave for the hospital.

The hospital bag finally picked up from its spot by the front door.

The drive was surreal, the world outside passing in a blur. Alexia held your hand, her grip reassuring as she whispered calming words to quell your nerves. The hospital loomed ahead, a beacon of hope and anxiety. Inside, the staff moved with practiced efficiency, guiding you through the steps with gentle encouragement.

Hours stretched into a timeless void, filled with the ebb and flow of labor. The pain was intense, but Alexia’s presence grounded you. Her voice, her touch, her unwavering support carried you through the toughest moments. The delivery room fizzed with activity, the air thick with expectation.

And then, the moment arrived. The baby’s first cries filled the room, a sound so pure and full of life that it brought tears to your eyes. The nurse placed your baby in your arms, and you looked down at the tiny, perfect face. Alexia leaned over, her green eyes shining with tears you wished to bottle for eternity.

A miracle. A door is yet to be opened and here lies new life.

Strong and steady. The sycamore trees in the garden will keep watch.

For a brief, fleeting moment, the world was perfect. Your hearts swelled with joy, your minds filled with visions of a future that seemed bright and boundless and exciting. The exhaustion, the pain, all of it was worth it for this precious new life cradled in your arms.

The world stopped turning.

Your baby’s cries grew weaker, then stopped altogether. The nurse’s smiles faded as one gently took the baby from your arms. The room, once filled with warmth and life, grew cold and sterile. You watched in stunned silence as doctors and nurses rushed in, their movements urgent and efficient and practiced, you realised.

Alexia’s grip on your hand tightened painfully, her eyes wide with fear. No one answered your unspoken questions, the minutes stretching into forever, the silence broken only by the muffled sounds of medical equipment and hushed whispers. You felt a hollowness growing in your chest, a cold, creeping dread that settled deep in your tired bones.

Finally, a doctor turned to you, his face a mask of professional sorrow. He spoke softly, his words a death knell. The world shattered around you. Alexia’s sobs echoed in the emptiness, a sound of pure, unfiltered grief. And though you felt yourself slipping, it was those sounds, the raw stripped back emotion she kept hidden from eyes that weren’t yours that broke you completely.

Alexia Putellas has shown the world she is human.

The ground beneath you gave way to a chasm of despair. Your baby, your beautiful, perfect baby with your nose and your wife’s hair, was gone.

-

“It’s like you don’t even care!” Alexia’s voice is harsh, cutting through the oppressive silence that has settled over the house.

You look up, startled and defensive from where you’re sitting on the sofa. “What are you talking about? How can you even say that?”

Alexia’s face is flushed with anger, something you don’t see off the pitch often. “You sit there every day, doing nothing. You don’t talk to me, you don’t look at me. It’s like I’m living with a fucking shell of a person”

“I’m trying to cope, Alexia” you snap back. “We both are. Just because I’m not falling apart at the seams doesn’t mean I don’t care”

“Falling apart?” Alexia’s eyes widen, her voice rising. “You think this is falling apart? Our baby died, our son, and you’re acting like it’s just something we can just move on from!”

This all started because she caught you putting his clothes into boxes.

Caught is the wrong word. You weren’t hiding from her. But the day after everything happened she just sat in the rocking chair you picked out together and cried. Her nose buried in an unworn onesie. The label still attached.

You didn’t want that room to become a shrine to a boy you held only once.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, your voice shaking with fractured fury. “Don’t you dare tell me how to grieve. Everyone deals with things differently”

“And what, ignoring it is your way?” Your wife’s words are like daggers, each one hitting its mark. She always was a perfectionist. “Because that’s what you’re doing. You’re pretending everything’s fine when it’s not”

“You think I’m pretending?” you shout, finally standing up. “Do you think I don’t feel it every second of every day? The emptiness, the loss? It’s killing me too!”

“Then why don’t you show it?” she screams back, tears streaming down her face. “Why don’t you let me in? We’re supposed to be in this together, but you’ve shut me out completely”

“You don’t understand,” you mutter, turning away, unable to face her pain on top of your own.

The sycamores are casting shadows over the grass. How dare the sun shine so brightly.

“What don’t I understand?” Alexia demands, stepping closer, her voice trembling with desperation. “What do I not understand about losing our boy?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I can’t talk about it because it makes it real. Talking about it means accepting it, and I’m not ready to do that”

Her expression softens for a moment, as if she forgot she is supposed to be angry with you, then hardens again. “So what, you just shut me out? You leave me to deal with this alone because you’re too scared to face it?”

“It’s not that simple,” you reply, your voice barely audible to your own ears. “I’m doing the best I can”

“Well, your best isn’t good enough,” she shoots back, her voice breaking. “We’re falling apart, and you don’t even care”

“Don’t say that,” you plead, her words cutting deeper than you can bear.

“Then show me,” Alexia says, her voice softer but no less in pain. “Show me that you care, that you still want this, us”

You look at her, your heart breaking all over again. “I don’t know how”

-

The days after the argument with your wife feel like the twilight zone. Your home, once a sanctuary, now feels more like a prison, each room echoing with the whispers of what could have been. Friends and family, well-meaning and kind, flock to your side, but their presence often brings more discomfort than relief.

Salt in the wounds.

You're sitting on the couch, a half-drunk cup of tea cooling in your hands, as Alexia’s mother sits across from you. Her eyes are filled with sympathy you don’t want, her voice too gentle. "I can’t imagine what you’re going through," she says, her words meticulously planned out. "But we’re here for you, both of you”

You nod, forcing a smile. "Thank you," you reply, though the words feel empty. You appreciate their concern, but it does very little to fill the hollow ache inside you.

Eli reaches out, placing a hand on yours. "If there’s anything you need, anything at all..."

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings, and soon the house is filled with more people offering condolences, bringing food, and trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Teammates with lopsided smiles. Friends with tears and hugs and sticky words. Nothing helps these days, not even your wife.

None of it seems to work.

You move through the crowd like a scent on a breeze, your smiles and nods automatic, your mind elsewhere and nowhere all at once.

In the kitchen, you find Alexia talking to her sister. The sight of them together, their heads bent in quiet conversation, brings a fresh wave of sorrow. You miss her, miss the connection you once shared. Now, even in the same room, she feels like she’s miles apart.

"How are you holding up?" Alba asks as you join them, her eyes wet.

Should you be crying more?

"I’m managing," you say, the lie slipping out effortlessly. It’s easier than trying to explain the turmoil growing inside your chest. Your mind.

Alexia glances at you, her eyes searching your face. "We’re taking it one day at a time," she adds, her voice strained, composed. You can tell she’s just about holding it together for your guests.

The support from friends and family is constant, yet it feels like a barrier rather than a bridge. They don’t understand the depth of your grief, can’t comprehend the void that has opened up inside you. Their attempts to comfort you only highlight the isolation you feel.

You think Alexia feels abandoned. She reaches for you every time you cross paths in the house. She hates that you pull away, skin prickling at the thought of being held. You hate that you crave her touch just as much but can’t bring yourself to seek it out.

How can one feel so alone when they are surrounded by so many? The same way you’re can be lost at sea and getting swallowed by waves that won’t leave you to die in peace.

-

One afternoon, when the house has finally quieted down, you find yourself standing in a patch of sun in the garden. The warmth on your skin felt almost foreign, a stark contrast to the coldness that had settled in your heart. The sycamore trees stood tall and proud, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze—a painful reminder that not everything gets the chance to grow.

As you stand there, lost in thought, you hear the door open behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; you sense Alexia’s presence like a shadow that had become a part of you. She walks up beside you, her steps hesitant and heavy.

"They mean well," she says softly, coming to stand next to you.

"I know," you reply, your voice void of anything but impatience to finish the conversation. "But it doesn’t help”

Alexia sighs, her hand reaching for yours. "We’re surrounded by people, but I’ve never felt so alone”

You look at her, the weight of her words mirroring your own feelings. "Me too," you admit, pulling your hand away.

For a moment, the connection between you feels almost tangible. But the pain is still there, a barrier neither of you knew how to breach. The love that had once been your refuge now felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by loss and grief.

-

Nights are the hardest. The quiet hours stretch to the milky way and back, filled with the echoes of dreams that would never be. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of each day pressing down on you. Alexia’s presence beside you was both a comfort and a reminder of how far apart you have drifted.

Her snores keep you awake.

You slip out of bed and wander through the house. The nursery door stands ajar, a silent sentinel to your shattered life. You step inside, the faint scent of baby powder and fresh paint lingering in the air.

The cot stands in the corner, empty and pristine, a cruel reminder of what you had lost. You reach out, your fingers grazing the soft fabric of the blanket, and the tears you’d held back for so long finally break free.

The moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. Shadows dance on the walls, a silent audience to your sorrow. The room feels both alive and desolate, filled with the unspoken dreams and hopes you had cherished.

Their favourite colour will never be green.

You sink to the floor, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The silence is deafening, filled with the murmurs of laughter that will never be heard, the soft coos that will never come.

The final cry that haunts your mind.

You wonder how the world can continue to turn, how the universe can remain unchanged, while your life has been irreparably altered.

-

Spring is in full bloom, the world outside your window bursting with life and color. The garden is a riot of flowers, vibrant reds, yellows, and purples dancing in the gentle breeze. Birds sing their songs, and the air is filled with the sweet scent of blossoms. It is as if nature itself was mocking your grief, the beauty and renewal of the season a sharp contrast to the desolation you feel inside.

You stand at the window, watching as a pair of robins build a nest in the sycamore tree. Their industriousness, their instinctive drive to create and nurture new life, is a painful reminder of what you have lost.

Strong and steady, that’s what you need to be.

Though you're a leaf in the wind, ready to be carried away.

[fee224]

First date!!

Rafe Cameron x overlooked!reader

When rafe asked you on a fancy date over the phone you were as nervous as you were mind numbingly excited. You had only told your mother, but she told everybody on Sunday brunch and that’s how you ended up having five of your older sisters in your room controlling your entire date.

Lilah and pen were blending liquids and powders into your face as Mandy and Campbell thrown dresses around your walk in closet. Shilah laid across your bed bitching. All as you sat on the dressing table fighting some internal nerves.

“Gosh, y/n why wont your skin just absorb this fucking make up”

“Oh my g- RAFE JUST TEXTED Y/N!” shilah squeeled from the bed as you bit your lip nervously.

“What’s it say..” you looked at Shilah through the mirror as she smirked opening the phone.

“He’s just done with gym and……. He’ll be here in hour and half” she stares absentmindedly as she starts tying.

“What are you doing? Shilah don’t do that, give me my phone” you plead, not able to stand up with the girls above you pushing you down to stay still on the seat.

“Oh my god, what’d you say” Mandy giggles from the closet.

“Nothing! Just how excited little y/n is over here” she crawls off the bed, kissing your cheeks and dropping the phone in front of you on the desk.

Rafe: hey, just finished gym, I’ll be there in hour and half?

: that’s perfect, I’m so exciteddddd, cya soon cxxxx

Rafe: …

You wanted to crawl into the ground waiting for his response. You sounded so eager and you hated it. You felt nauseous at the thought of him laughing at your message with his friends.

Rafe: Yeah me too, see you xx

You bit down a smile, flipping your phone over before your sisters could read the text.

You stood in front of the mirror in a tiny dress, and a caked face of make up. Heels that made you four inches taller, nothing on the boy that was picking you up any minute.

Your sisters snickered by the window as you reapplied lip gloss nervously. You heard an engine dull, a door slam, and multiple girl screams as the pit in your stomach started to come up.

You rushed down the stairs and swung the door open before anyone could beat you to it.

His face lit up at the sight of you, and then did a once over to take you in while you were dolled up. He was dolled up too and your tummy turned.

He was in jeans and a black and grey polo. His hair was slightly wet and messy, in contrast to the rest of him which was neat and tidy. He was holding colourful flowers that you blushed as you accepted and let down on the coffee table inside the door.

“You look pretty” he stated, rolling off his tongue casually as you beamed up at him, not noticing you were staring, smiling a tad creepily, not that he minded.

“Thanks, you look pretty too” you said in between smiling. Not realising anything anything wrong with how you were talking to a nineteen year old boy. You thought pretty was a fitting word. His eyebrows raised smiling as they quickly flickered to multiple girls peeking around the door at the top of the stairs as his brows furrowed and turned his attention back to you, ignoring them.

“Right? You ready?” You nodded shutting the door quickly and turning back around to messily bump into his chest. “Oh! Sorry rafe” you moved back into the door. “S’my fault, let’s head” he let you know as he grabbed your hand and hauled you to the car, opening your door and closing it.

You watched the big houses pass, waving small at your elderly neighbour who you bake cupcakes for every Wednesday, mrs sherry.

Rafe was casually tapping on the wheel to the beat of the music the radio station inside his car was playing. Every minute or two his vision would shift towards you, making sure of something you weren’t aware of.

You didn’t have a thought inside your head, and for the first time in your life that didn’t feel wrong or awkward.

In the past week, since meeting him at the country club, he had called you three time. He told you he wanted to call you more but he was busy, and you believed him. He seemed like he was someone who had a schedule, unlike you who drifted. Each call he was sweet and it somehow eased you slowly into sharing more with him.

You had found out he was working for his father, ward Cameron. He was set to take over things within the next few years when ward retires. He told you he has two sisters, Sarah and wheezie. His favourite colour was blue. He had a trip planned in two weeks to New York City for business with two other men. He listened to music you suggested and would always wait a few seconds after you finished talking, just to ensure he didn’t interrupt you because he was desperate for all the small sentences he could get. Every little thing he told you and, what you observed, you lapped up. You wanted to know all the small things, and all the big things. You had never been so curious. Anything else you could simply study in a book, not an actual boy though. Rafe cameron you had to be in his presence to learn things. which was becoming your preferred method of study. Because no books could make you feel the way he was making you right now.

Your eyes met once again as he pulled into the beach car park and he unclipped his seatbelt as you smiled, mirroring him. He was around the car opening your door before you could pick up your handbag from the floor. Which you usually wouldn’t leave on the car floor, but rafes car was clean.

When you stepped out of the car, the smell of the salty sea hit you. Rafes hand was immediately clasped in yours as he attempted to walk at your stoll pace down the docks. “You got us a reservation at Logies?” You blink up at him giggling, swinging his hand. Logies was the best restaurant on the docks. It had the majority of everything on the menu.

He squeezed your hand smiling, “you like Logies?” You nodded quickly as you turned the corner, entering the restaurant.

“Cameron” he replied to the woman at front desk. “Alrighty, follow me” as she lead you to an outside table, tucked in the corner. Rafe tucked your seat in behind you, and you thought you might drop dead with how sweet he was being.

When it came time to order, you panicked and said “same!” And were now stuck with steak, you liked steak but you wanted pasta.

When the dinners arrived, you didn’t care about your steak because rafe was in front of you talking about midsummers and how his family was hosting this years. You gushed about your dress, and how your fitting was in three days. You didn’t fail to blush when he said you’d look beautiful.

After a minute of wrestling with your dinner, rafe wordlessly snatched your cutlery and cut your steak for you while not cutting the conversation about colours of ties and his friends being bossed by their dates.

You didn’t have a date, and you hoped rafe would still be interested in you by midsummers.

After dinner and a double dozen of flushed cheeks, the evening was setting and rafe paid for dinner. You felt half bad because you only had your phone, a rhode lip gloss and a mini Gucci perfume in your purse. After dinner you didn’t want to go home, not even a tiny bit.

“Ice cream?” You followed rafes eyesight to the ice cream van on the promenade. You nodded eagerly “mhm sure” and without a second of processing, he was dragging you by your hand, and it seemed to be a habit of his.

A half an hour later and you were sat on the docks, licking your ice cream as rafe sat next to you, watching the sea distracted. There was some music in the background coming from a tourist gift shop. Rafe had you tucked under his beefy arm and the sight to anyone else was a long lasting couple, you hoped that was what you would become but instead you were seeing him, and somehow that was enough, for now.

You hummed to the music as you finally got to the cone. You lifted the cone to rafes lips as he bit down and you giggled softly.

“I better take you home, I don’t want them thinking I kidnapped you”

“they won’t care” you muttered sounding way too desperate.

“Still.. getting late”

“fine, let’s go” you mumbled, standing up and brushing your dress down as you began to walk, just to be pulled back by the hand “I don’t want to bring you home, but I have to, okay? If I could, I’d keep you with my all day” you’re face grew red hot by the admission.

“S’okay rafe, I know” your head bent down as he grabbed your hand again and began to walk.

As his car pulled up slowly on the long drive, your head started to spin. You didn’t want to leave this car or this boy.

“Bye rafe, thank you for tonight it was really…” you racked your head, regretting not prescribing on the way home “good” you whispered.

He smiled, watching you as you talked. “Yeah? Do it again then pretty?” You’re face smiled with your mouth parted in numb shock of everything that was happening. You realised you hadn’t replied and nodded rapidly as he just smiled at your cuteness.

You leant in to kiss his cheek lightly and unlocking the door. You stood on the concrete ground

“Bye rafe”

“Bye y/n”

- fee xxx

[2handsslan]

carlos sainz // cs55 fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

one shots

to be loved - @monzamash

“i can take care of you. you won't need anyone but me.”

farewell, rosso corsa- @goldsainz

“carlos’ journey at ferrari has come to an end, you’re not sure you’re ready to deal with the aftermath”

can i go where you go? - @goldsainz

“carlos leaving ferrari means you do too”

the world can wait - @pucksandpower

“no matter whether he’s wearing ferrari red or williams blue, standing on the top step of podiums or fighting for points, you’ll love carlos through it all”

oh, simple thing - @formulaforza

"“It’s dead,” you said, took it from him and tossed it aside. “It’s not nice to pick flowers, Carlito. It kills them.” He burst into tears and your mother scolded you the rest of the way home, even though it was her who always told you to leave the wildflowers wild. After some time and consideration (a plate of dinosaur nuggets, half of Cinderella, and a bedtime story) you’d decided maybe Carlos was right to cry about the dead flower."

madrid dreamscapes - @cashmeremars

“you’re moving to madrid to be closer to carlos and on the day he picks you up from the airport, he has a suprise for you”

camera roll series: dating carlos sainz - @cashmeremars

“photos you've taken of your boyfriend carlos”

series

love in mallorca - @sunny44

“y/n goes to mallorca intending to leave her life behind, at least for a while. then she meets a mysterious guy who makes this trip, to say the least, unforgettable”

it’s always been you - @neferaskingdom

“after a painful breakup, y/n receives an unexpected drunk phone call from carlos following the mexican grand prix, igniting a whirlwind of emotions as he grapples with his feelings for her”

smau

close to you - @afterglowsainz

“after your boyfriend starts hanging out more with his future teammate, your start catching feelings for him, not knowing that he also seems to be interested in him”

mr. big - @monzabee

“the one where there he was, wearing armani on a sunday, your boyfriend, carlos”

three is company - @goldsainz

“carlando hard launch”

brother’s rival - @sainzzreputaticn

“your brother’s rival texts you after a race and you find yourself falling for him”

*these are part of my fic rec masterlist, please note none of these are written by me and the author of each story had been tagged! check out my f1 fic rec masterlist for other drivers!*